La Belle Et La Bete

yall better be just as outraged about this as you were about notre dame

So, India is dying.

Look, I know a good number of you are from the US and things aren't amazing there either, but my country is literally on the brink of collapse. So I'd love it if we could talk about that for a minute.

If you can't do anything else, please just read and reblog.

A second COVID wave has taken out the healthcare system. There are no more hospital beds. There's an oxygen shortage. There's a critical vaccine shortage. The Central Government has thrown its hands up and is passing the baton to the State Governments to do what they can.

There are over 16 million covid cases. A record 330,000 new cases reported yesterday - comparable to the US at its peak. 187,000 dead as of today.

There is no plan.

Mass cremations are taking place. The cremation grounds are running day and night and they are short on wood. People are watching their loved ones die while waiting for a hospital bed, and then they're unable to give them the proper burial rights.

Hospitals are overwhelmed. Patients are being confined, two to a bed. They're the lucky ones.

We are on the verge of people dying in the streets.

This is the second-most populous country in the world. The largest democracy. A country that encapsulates over 15,000 years of recorded human history and has endured everything from famine to invasion to colonisation.

We might be at the end. This might be the thing that does us in.

People are dying.

People are dying.

People are dying and there is no plan.

More good news? Variants are popping up. A double mutation strain has shown up. It is resistant to current vaccines. This will not go away. This is the devastation they warned of when the anti-maskers were out protesting the minor inconvenience of covering their face in public.

My country is on the verge of an emergency state. Our government has failed us. This is as dire a situation as it ever could be.

Look. I don't do much with my life. I write fics, some of you have read them and that's pretty much it. I spend my days with my head in the clouds because that's where I like to be.

But two days ago, my grandmother tested positive, had to be taken to hospital and the ambulance caught fire.

She barely made it to the urgent care she needs.

So, here I am, using whatever meager platform I have to cobble this request together. Because I have to do something.

If you can, donate.

Or spread the word.

Help. Please.

Forever & Always// F.Morales

frankie x female reader (slightly no use of y/n or she/her pronouns just the word sister)

warnings: angst, language, tension, alcohol mention, mention of claustrophobia and slight description of anxiety, and language

summary: you moved away from your family and boyfriend at eighteen. when you come back home for your parents 50th anniversary you weren't expecting a rekindling moment with a certain pilot.

authors note: THE ENDING IS EVERYTHING AND IM SO PROUD OF THIS FIC! PLEASE LMK WHAT YALL THINK XOXO

masterlist

They say you’ll never forget your first. First crush, kiss, date, love and heartbreak. However for you, you could never seem to get rid of him. But you weren’t complaining. Francisco Morales was more than your first for everything, he was someone who held more than one could handle- he was your rock. Well that was until the day that “you” ruined everything.

Your parents were known as the sweethearts of your hometown. Marrying right after graduation, they settled in the same town and brought up you and your sister Em. Your parents were involved in everything, your mom being a teacher and your dad being a sheriff. It was hard to blend in to say the least. But there was an ongoing loop. Everyone graduated and stayed home. Your older sister, Em, even became a part of that treacherous loop. And you hated that loop. You always dreamed of big cities, fashion, traveling the world, but mostly just getting out of town. And you had promised yourself that nothing would hold you back from pursuing that. Sadly Frankie thought he could have kept you a little bit longer. But things change- actually a lot has changed since you’ve been back home for more than a weekend stay. Now you were traveling back home for your parent’s 50th anniversary extravaganza. And nothing could help prepare you for the next few days.

Your plane had landed around one in the afternoon. Grabbing your luggage you made your way over to the area where Em said she would pick you up. Looking around you didn;t see her red car. Dialing her number you were ready to direct her to your terminal.

“Hello?” Em said on the other line. She sounded groggy and as if she wasn't in the car.

“Terminal 47 remember.” You said angrily, Knowing she forgot.

“Shit.” She said, then another voice was heard.

“Babe what time is it?” You gasped at the sound of Pope's voice.

“Hold on, you first forgot your little sister's arrival at the airport, and you have Pope in your bed Em! When did he come back? What happened to independency?” You said rather loudly into the mic.

“Shut up. You're too damn loud.”

“It’s literally tourist season, getting a cab into town will cost me tripple Em.”

“Well don’t call the Millers, they went fishing this morning. You could call-” She said even more groggily. But you hung up the phone before she could finish her sentence.

You couldn’t take your sister right now. You love her most times but she would've killed you if you did this to her. You were gonna call the Millers but if they were busy there was only one person you could call. Hearing the phone ring you were ready to hang up. But then he answered.

“Hey, what's up.”

“Quick question: when did my sister get back with Pope?” You said rather too fast.

A small laugh left him, “That’s a long story.”

“Well I have another question for you.” You said getting nervous.

“Shoot.”

“Well Em, forgot that I was flying in today to surprise my parents and well I’m kind of stranded at the airport. Is there any way you can send someone-” Suddenly you were cut off.

“What terminal are you at?”

“Terminal 47.” You said softly while releasing the breath you were holding.

“It’ll be 20 minutes.” He said.

“Thank you Frankie.” You heard a small yeah and hung up the phone. And thinking to yourself. Yay reunion time.

✰✰✰

18 minutes later, that infamous truck he insists on always keeping, though it's as old as you, rolled up to the curb in front of you. He got out of the truck and damn does he look like the same senior in high school you were swooning over. I mean he’s aged, but not badly. He’s the same Francisco.

“I owe you one.” You said as he got closer.

“No worries, I feel bad about Em and Pope doing you like that.” He said giving you a side hug and grabbing your suitcase. He quickly opened your door, still never letting you touch the door handles in his truck. You slid in and felt a wave of nerves wash over you. The last time you were alone with Frankie was years ago when you guys broke up as he dropped you off at the airport. But you remembered time has passed and everything should be decent now. Well that’s what you hope for. Frankie had finally made it into the truck. He took a breath and looked at you.

“Hey.” He said softly.

“Hi.” You said matching his level,

“So um how long are you staying?” He asked cutting to the chase.

“That's a long story. I’m not sure to be honest.” You said, Frankie nodded and began driving. Fuck the tension just grew higher.

“So um Pope and Em what happened there?” You said wanting to clear the silence.

“Well after Benny’s championship fight, there were lots of beers and then all of a sudden it was like prom all over again with them. Running away for a week and then committing to another relationship. Except this time it seems permanent.” He said constantly looking over to see you in the passenger seat like it was prom night again.

“Dear god, no wonder she didn’t update me on the fight at all. She was with him and didn't want me to find out.” You said chuckling.

Em and Pope were like your parents except they had more problems than a math textbook. They had gotten together in high school and that’s how your friend group formed. You being the younger sister of Em always having to tag along with her fr town events and football games. None of the boys minded but it was the classic my sister's boyfriend's best friend is the one for me. You became Frankie’s date for every outing, and soon you put a label on you both. But when it was your turn to leave for college Frankie and you split. Heartbroken ever since that day. Because you had to stay loyal to him when he left but he couldn’t take the fact that you wanted to leave your small town for good.

“You could get ready at my place and we could go to your parents together. That's only if you're ok with it?” He said.

“Yeah that sounds great. Thank you again Frankie.”

✰✰✰

Frankie’s house was exactly how you imagined it. Pictures and memorabilia everywhere, the smell of fresh wood and sunflowers. He had a small vegetable garden on the side of his house, and he used to always dream of having a house with a pool, so it wasn’t a surprise that you saw a good size one in the backyard.

You walked in more and saw a bunch of pictures on a wall. Glazing over them you saw some with you, and most of them were of him in the army. You walked over to the couches where there were more pictures. In a frame there was a picture of you two on your graduation day. Frankie wore your cap as you kissed his cheek. You smiled at that memory. It was the day after he came back from bootcamp, with him surprising you, both of you worried he wasn't gonna make it.

Frankie had shown you his bathroom. Where you got ready. Leaving the bathroom you walked out to see Frankie waiting for you.

“Wow you look amazing.” He said in a breathy tone.

“Thank you.” You said as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“No seriously, you look great.” He said to reassure you. You walked up and offered your hand.

“Francisco Morales, will you be a gentleman and join me tonight?”

“When have I ever said no to you?” He asked as he took your hand.

“I can think of a few times.” You laughed as you both walked to his truck.

For  once in a long time you felt as if Frankie and you were good. Good as in being together again. But only fools dream like that. Right?

✰✰✰

At your parents' anniversary party everyone and anyone was there. Your parents and friends were surprised to say the least and you enjoyed every minute of it. Your group was sitting around the table enjoying drinks and memories, it felt like you never left. Frankie was sitting by your side, and every so often it looked as if he wanted to be closer to you so you took the initiative to slowly move closer. When his arm was behind you, you were finally content, and based on his smile so was he.

“Care to dance?” You asked Frankie.

“Do I have to remind you how horrible we are at dancing?” He said laughing through his response.

“You owe me one dance, remember?” You said smiling knowing Frankie can’t say no now.

Standing up he offered you his arm and you both made your way over to the dance floor.

Moving to the beat, you were both entangled in limbs, but a bright smile displayed on everyone as they watched you and Frankie become those kids who pined for each other for all those years.

“It’s sad.” Em said to the table.

“On what?” Benny asked cluelessly.

“Pendejo. He promised her that he would only dance with her one more time at their wedding. They were supposed to be the next couple to celebrate fifty years together in this town.” Santiago said, looking at his best friend and you.

Frankie and you were laughing and talking but as a slow song came on you both stayed on the dance floor. Unknowing of the conversation that was going on with your group.

“I missed you.” Frankie said.

“There's not even a way to describe the feeling of how much I missed you.” You said, placing your head on his chest. Frankies grip tightened around you, as if he was scared that he was going to lose you. Again.

“I’m sorry.” You said softly.

“No. No apologies. Just be with me. Right here in this moment. Not the past or the future.”

“Frankie?” You asked, to which he hummed to be his response.

“Promise me this won’t be our last dance?” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“Promise me you won’t be gone as long as you have been.” He spoke softly, as almost he was about to break. You nodded, not being able to form words. A small kiss was placed on your head from him. This was the way you used to seal promises.

It wasn’t until speeches and cake till your night was ruined. Everyone gathered around where your parents were. Your parents holding a microphone and giving thanks.

“Since we were kids this town has done nothing but helped us. We found true love in this zip code and we raised our wonderful kids here. Our oldest is striving to become a wonderful teacher like her mom and our youngest has been working her heart out since she was handed a highschool diploma. We thank all of you for your support and well wishes towards us and our family.” Your dad spoke as everyone clapped to his thoughtfulness.

“Though we are here celebrating our wonderful fifty years together. We are beyond grateful to have both of our children here tonight with us.” Your Mom spoke and pointed towards you and Em. Will and Benny both hollered and squeezed us together. Small laughter erupted.

“I have been blessed with such an amazing neighborhood, life, and soulmate but I am even more blessed that our youngest was offered a position in London while our oldest will be taking my place the next school year. Thank you all again and enjoy.”

Suddenly it felt claustrophobic. Everyone turned to say congratulations to you. You were surrounded and all you needed was an escape. But everyone was hugging and asking you questions.

While your own thoughts were running wild. How did your mom know about London? You didn’t take the job. Where’s Frankie? Oh my god where’s Frankie? The one that stuck out the most was you had to clear this up with your parents and especially Frankie. Em grabbed you and dragged you away.

“London?” She screamed and questioned. You began shaking your head.

“No, no, no!” You yelled back at her. Your mom had come up to you both and intervened.

“Mijas, what's wrong?” She asked.

“Mom, how did you know about London?” You asked, growing impatient.

“You buttdialed me in one of your meetings. ‘M sorry honey if you had a whole idea to tell us and if I ruined it-”

“Mom, I didn’t take the London job. I took the position of being media manager. A job where I could live here. Be here with, ugh fuck!” You screamed the last part feeling all the emotions rush through you. Benny, Will and Santiago walked over towards you. You wanted to burst out crying knowing Frankie had left. Again.

“Where is he?” You ran up to Benny. Benny shook his head and began to speak.

“He um, he left. We don’t know where too though. Maybe the creek?”

You looked towards Pope and he had a sorry gaze towards you. No you're not taking apologies. You need to make this right.

“Give me keys.” You raised your hand outward. Pope placed his keys and you din;t even say thank you. You just ran towards the cars.

You drove past the creek, school, and finally you saw the truck in his driveway. You parked quickly and ran towards the door. Tears already welling up your eyes. When you knocked and there was no answer to the door your heart began to speed up. Pope had to have keys to his place. And luckily you found the fit. Opening the door you searched for him, but he was sitting on the couch ushering a whiskey.

“Frankie please let me explain.” You said as you rounded the corner.

“Explain what?” He said moving towards the kitchen, that's when you saw his tear stained cheek.

“Explain how you're gonna move to London, how you’re gonna be able to do what you always wanted to do. You already left once, why do it twice?”

“Frankie.”

“Do you know how much joy I have when you call or text me. Or when you even fucking show up for your weekend here once a year. Do you know how much I yearn to gain a little more from you?”

“Frankie please.”

“No, please go ahead and break me one more time.” He said.

“Frankie, I didn’t take the job.” You had lost your temper and began to lose your control over your voice.

“What?”

“Do you know how much I yearned for you to call me and tell me to come back home? Do you know how lonely I was? I cried every night for two months, every holiday, birthday. I know I could live without you but fuck Frankie I didn’t want too.” Frankie had now moved back from behind the kitchen counter to be in front of you.

“Frankie, I was scared. I was a kid and I was so in love with you. I made myself board that airplane and I regretted it the instant I buckled my seatbelt. I wanted to see the world, but the only thing I truly wanted was to see the world with you.” At this point tears were both falling freely between the two of you.

“I only came back home to make sure this is what I wanted. To make sure that I would hate London. I came back to see if I could fix my mistakes.”

“Where are you working?” Frankie had now asked.

“I took the media manager position. I can work wherever I want.” You said now quietly. Frankie nodded trying to comprehend everything. Twenty minutes ago he thought he had lost you again, but now here you were in his house, confessing to him that you were too in love with him, that you cried everyday just like he had.

“Frankie please say something.”

“You’re not leaving?” He asked another question which drove you past patience.

“Frankie I will leave right now if you don’t-” Suddenly you were embraced by his lips. Before you could withdraw your mind from its far places, his arms were around you. You felt that rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left you limp. Just like he did all those times before. He kissed you, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made you cling to him. His insistent mouth was parting your shaking lips, sending wild waves along your nerves, evoking from your sensations you had never known you would be capable of feeling again. And before a swimming giddiness spun you round and round, you knew that you were kissing him back.

You pull away slowly. But then you both were kissing again. It shows you that every other kiss you’ve had without Frankie has been wrong. Both of you are kissing like crazy. Like your lives depend on it. Frankie’s tongue slips inside your mouth, gentle but demanding, and it’s nothing like you've ever experienced with him before. Your fingers wrap around his hat and pull it off, and move to grip his hair, pulling him even closer. He pushes you backward and you’re up against the kitchen table. The weight of his body on top of yours is extraordinary. You feel him—all of him—pressed against you. His face has his signature stubble and it rubs your skin but you don’t care, you don’t care at all. He feels wonderful. His hands are everywhere, and it doesn’t matter that his mouth is already on top of yours, you want him closer but he pulls away.

“You promised me forever and always. Is it forever now?” He asked with a certain amount of need in his voice. You nodded quite ferociously and pulled him in to seal the deal.

“Forever and always Francisco. You will have me forever and I will always love you.”

Leaning forward he sealed the deal, and for a long time it won't be the last seal the deal kiss.

Words Unspoken

Mando x reader

Summary: y/n and mando has been friends for two years, a bond between them Unspoken...until the mandalorian sees the way y/n's childhood friend flirts with her. (Sum mando jealousy here hehehehe)

Warnings: jealous mando, language. Maybe violence and fluff.

Also happy late birthday pedro BABY!!!!!

Also this is trash (;

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The mandalorian watches with crossed arms as y/n worked on the rezar crest, trying to repair some internal wiring that was shot earlier that day....by said mandalorian. Y/n had a amused smile on her face along with sweat and oil, the reason as to why she was fixing this nearly making her laugh.

It all started when mando was cleaning his beloved blaster, just mindlessly wiping down every crevice of the thing. But he heard her enter the room, her boots echoing throughout the near silent ship. That of course grabbed the intention of the mandalorian causing him to look up from his blaster and spotting the woman.

And she was absolutely stunning, her beautiful y/e/c eyes harvesting that beautiful sparkle no one else could ever have. her light brown button up shirt stained with oil along with her tight long dark brown pants, the first few buttons on her shirt missing showing off her soft skin there. Her hair was down and natural just the way he always thought was beautiful, it made her look purely angelic. He didn't even know what happened as his mind was in a trance over her beauty, but he accidentally pulled the trigger of his blaster he was cleaning and shot straight through the wall of his beloved ship....messing up the lighting in that particular area. But luckily his companion was a mechanic.

Leading them to this moment, she removed the penal he shot through and was rewiring what he destroyed. Her amusement at the situation making his cheeks burn red beneath his helmet.

" I almost have it...just a few more and-"

She shrieked as sparks flies out causing her to jump back and cradle her hand to her chest. The mandalorian jumped to her side in a flash, holding her as he quickly looked her over to see if she had any injuries. But she was okay other then a small little burn on her hand.

" are you okay? Are you hurt? " he asks, his voice modulator slightly masking his concern, but she heard and smiles up at him reassuringly.

" I'm fine...but I can't say the same for the rezar crest's wiring. It's gonna have to be replaced." She tells mando, who sighs and looks away from the woman and back to the wiring that sparks every few seconds.

" what do we need to replace? " he asks, his eyes looking back down at her. Her gaze was fully focused on the damage.

" you'll need more wiring, and probably a new penal considering that one has a hole in it. That's about it " she explained as she looks up at mando, who was still holding her. Realizing this he let's her go with pink cheeks. Although he wished more then anything to hold her for eternity.

" where can we find that? " his modulated voice asks, walking over and inspecting the damaged he had done. She watches as he stares on at the damage, the feeling of where his arms was once around her feeling cold at the loss of contact. She walks over and leans her forearm against the ship's wall, looking up at the beskar clad man.

" I know of a place we can get all the stuff we need for free...but it's a rough place, especially with the child with us. " she tells mando. He looks at her then turns around looking at the child who sat down in his bobble like carrier, watching the two with a small smile.

" we could go and you could always stay here and watch him while I retrieve the stuff. " He said, but y/n shook her head and fixed her gaze on the shining helmet, looking at where she believed his eyes would be.

" if you went alone then you wouldn't be getting the wires and panel free, you should stay and watch the child while I get it....I can handle myself y'know. " she explained as she crosses her arms. He looks at her questioningly. Although his face was hidden under the helmet she could read his body language like a book.

And she was right, he knew damn well she could handle herself. The first time they met was when he strolled into a cantina, he was just stealthy looking for his latest bounty at the time but the sight of her caught his gaze. She was arm wrestling a rather large and muscular man, someone even he would have a time fighting against. But she somehow won the wrestling match and the man was not pleased, that's when said large man decided to start a fight with the small and delicate looking woman. But she managed to kick the man's ass and that's when the mandalorian just knew he had to get to know her, and so he did. She helped him repair his ship that was heavily damaged at the time. But she made it look good as new, and the payment was that she stayed with him, that way she actually had a bed to sleep in and a roof over her head. The only thing she needed to do was sometimes watch the child and repair any damage.

" trust me I know you can...but why would you be able to get the parts free and I wouldn't? " he asks, she smiles a small smile and looks away from him.

" because the person we would be getting these parts from would be an old friend of mine, he is a little hostile towards strangers but a decent person with friends " she says, her voice soft and making his heart flutter at the sound. But the fluttering stops as his mind registers the fact she said he and old friend.

The mandalorian looks at her and nods, they need the parts, " okay...wheres this friend of yours at? " he speaks, voice coming out void of emotion as always as he begins walking towards the cockpit. Y/n scoops the child up into her arms as she settles into the co-pilot seat strapping herself in as the mandalorian does so himself. The woman explains the destination coordinates as starts up the rezar crest. And off they go in search of the parts to fix what mando destroyed.

___________________________________________

" This place is a dump..." the mandalorian spoke as he held the child closely to him, watching as different species of all kinds walked by, some thieving off others, and others beating the shit out of some. It was a rough place....but then again most wastelands was.

" hey pal this dump so happened to be home! " y/n said, her voice low as her eyes bounced around the sandy desert full of thugs, outlaws and murderers.

Mando looks at her the around the place, " that explains why you're so tough " he muttered. She chuckles and leads the way towards the dark cave looking building. The child whines at the sight of the aliens and people in this wasteland, snuggling up into the mandalorian for safety.

He smiles under the helmet as reassuringly rubs the childs back.

The woman comes to a stop at the cave like building, hand resting on her concealed blaster as she smiles up at two guards.

" is gunner still around or did he finally get himself killed? " she asks with a little smirk. The guards look to each other and back down at the woman.

" whose asking? " one asks, his voice gruff and low. The mandalorian stood more close behind her as his protectiveness kicked in.

" y/n...an old friend who he owes. " she spoke up, smirk still playing at her lips. The guards step aside and allow her entry without anymore question. She gives them a little nod in gratitude and steps through, glad to be out of the burning sun. But she stops dead in her tracks when the guards block mando off.

" their with me " she says, looking at them with a serious face, they sigh and let him in as he nods at them. He walks closer to y/n as she leads them through the dimly lit building.

After a few minutes of silence they come to a room with a round table in the middle, four men sitting at it while two women hang of two of the men's shoulders, they was gambling. And it didn't take long for the man the woman was looking for spotted her, he stood up from his chair and smiles.

" well if it isn't y/n! " gunner spoke with a joyous tune, causing y/n to smile widely. The men at the table stop their gambling as the hostess attention was purely on her. " it's been a long time since I've last saw you, yet your still the beauty I grew up with! " he exclaimed as he looked her up and down. She giggles and shakes her head, her cheeks slightly pink at the man's words.

The mandalorian stood there with the child watching everything go down, a feeling of pure anger washing over him as he shifted on his feet...who the hell did this man thank he was speaking to her like that?....those words was running through his head repeatedly.

" oh shut up gunner, I didn't come her for you're compliments, but rather some parts for a ship " she tells the man who nods with a grin. He turns back to the other men in the room.

" continue the game while I excuse myself for a moment..." gunner said, motioning y/n and mando to follow him. They both do so as he leads them through a dark hallway and into a grey more brightly lit room full of metal and ship parts. " what is it your looking for? " he asks.

" wiring and a panel " the mandalorian spoke before y/n could, his modulated voice feeling the room. The woman looks at him with a slight lifted brow, she could hear the anger seeping through his voice.

" well...y/n you know where to find it. " gunner said, side eyeing the mandalorian, He picked up on the anger rolling off him.

" of course! " she said, walking towards gunner and searching through the wall of multiple wires behind him.

She was confused as to why mando was angry, but shrugged it off. He was probably irritated by the heat from this wasteland and hostile territory, especially when the child was being held in such a place.

As she searched she found it, the wires she needed and smiles victoriously. " okay I got the wires but now I need the panel..." her voice trailed off as she turned around and looked around the room seeing if she could see it.

" follow me, I'll take ya to the panel's Darling " gunner chuckles as he rests a hand on her lower back.

That made the mandalorian's blood boil, his eyes shooting daggers through the man's head as he clinched his jaw. How dare he put his filthy hands on her....

Y/n nods in appreciation at gunner and his kindness as he leads her towards the panel section of his ship parts collection.

" here they are..." he said with a little smile and he kept his hand on her...mando appearing beside the two as the woman walked off to search for the right panel.

" so....gunner. how did you and y/n meet? " venom dripping from his words, gunner looks at him with a little grin.

" we grew up together, she had an abandoned ship we would both play in when we we're children " gunner tells the man. He nods and looks back to y/n. Gunner smiles at the mandalorian and chuckles quietly.

" you like her? " he asks, causing the mandalorian's head to snap in his direction. His cheeks going red under the helmet.

" wh-i...yes...you could say that " he stuttered as his heart started pounding. He felt...afraid to think of his feelings for y/n. The fact that he loved her making him scared, he wanted to tell her...but was afraid of ruining everything they had together. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her...she was everything to him.

Gunner nods, the grin still plastered on his face as he watches y/n while she finally finds the right panel and make her way back to the two men and child.

" okay! I have everything we need " y/n announced as she holds the wires and panel up with a smile. Mando nods with a sigh of relief, now maybe they can leave this place. But of course luck wasn't on his side and the woman who captured the mandalorian's heart directs her attention on the man beside him.

" thanks gunner, I knew you'd have everything we need " she smiles gratefully at her old friend, who gives her a tight hug.

The mandalorian can't help but tense up, he hates seeing the way y/n smiles at the man, her eyes practically glued to the suave man who kept throwing compliments at her....although he hated to admit it...he was jealous.

" great now we can go " mando spoke, holding the child closer as he watches the way gunners arm was still wrapped around y/n even though the hug was broke.

Y/n looks at the mandalorian confused, he wasn't even trying to hide the anger now...did she do something to anger him?

" oh come on, no need to be I'm such a rush. Why don't you both stay for dinner? " Gunner suggests with a kind smile. Y/n's eyes light up with excitement as she smiles at the suggestion, looking to mando for permission. That's something she always does, that's one of many reasons he likes her. She always makes sure he is comfortable with something before she agrees or does something.

The mandalorian looks at her and knows she really wants to stay...her excitement making his heart skip a beat, she was so adorable. And he sometimes hated how her beauty and adorableness had such a grip on him.

With a sigh he nods, " sure, why not..." he muttered with attitude. Y/n's smile widens as she thanks the mandalorian for agreeing and they all start walking to the dining hall in gunners building. Even though he wished to just sit in his ship and enjoy listening to y/n talk about random things while playing with the child....like always.

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Y/N's laugh rang throughout the building as the mandalorian sat at the table with crossed arms, he couldn't eat considering he couldn't take his helmet off. And he didn't want to leave the two alone together because he was afraid of that thought.

The child sat beside the mandalorian as it eats the soup, its wide eyes looking up at mando with curiosity.

" do you remember that time you pissed off those Jawa's and I had to talk them out of stealing you're whole ship? " y/n laughed, tears threatening to spill because of how hard she laughed. Gunner laughs with her as he nods.

" how couldn't I? It was the most terrifying moment of my life! " he said through laughter, his hand landing on hers, they both sat beside each other while the mandalorian and child sat in front of them. Mando watched as gunner squeezes her hand as their laughter continues, never has he seen y/n so happy before....it left him feeling angry yet sad the same time.

" I'm heading out, watch the child. " he growls as he stood up, chair scratching against the floor making the laughter die down some. Without another word he leaves.

Y/n watches as her smile filters, worry settling into the pit of her stomach. Her mind wondering what has made him so angry. She looks to gunner and gives him a apologetic smile.

" please excuse me while I see what's bothering him " she says, standing up and dusting her pants. She looks to the child, " stay here and be safe " she tells the green little creature, who nods and smiles. She then walks out of the dining hall in search of her mando...

Although she would never admit it, she harvested very strong feelings for the mandalorian. And she thought that in her actions and words towards him showed him just how much she cared about him. She didn't say out loud that she loved him because she knew he would most likely reject her, say that she was only a friend and mechanic for him, and she couldn't take the rejection so she showed him her love for him in the way she took care of him, hoping one day he would see it. But obviously he hasn't.

She sighs in relief upon seeing him stood by a open window in the building, the sun had set long ago the moon taking its place. The light of the moon shining on his beskar making him look absolutely stunning in her eyes. She walks towards him slowly, her boots hitting the hard metal floors echoing, breaking the silence.

" what are you doing in here? I thought I told you to watch the child?! " he barks at her harshly. He keeps his gaze out the window as he watches the people outside.

" the child is in good hands with gunner " she reassures the mandalorian as she stood in front of him, leaning on the window seal.

" oh so now we're trusting him with the childs well being? " he scoffs, causing her to stare at him with shock. His harshness hurting her in a way he would never intend.

" I'd trust him with my life din, he isn't like any other person in this wasteland! He's nice, caring and wanted nothing more then to leave this place when we was younger. But he couldn't because he was a slave! " she angrily tells him, her cheeks red from said anger.

He finally turns his gaze on her, eyes soften slightly at the mention of his name, something he told her one night as they both couldn't find sleep. She only ever used his name when she was troubled or very very angry at him....

" then why are you here with me and not him? " he asks with a low tone, voice holding that of sadness. She looks at him as her anger slowly decapitated.

" because something is bothering you and I wanna know what it is din...you're never this distant with me? " she tells him, voice calmer as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder making him sigh and relax.

" i-i just don't like seeing the way he makes you feel...." he muttered, his voice modulator not masking the hurt in his voice. It made her heart clinch.

" din, I have no idea what you're talking about? " she said softly, clearly confused.

" I'm talking about all the-the complaints, and blushing and the way he touches you...I don't like how it makes me feel! " he exclaimed as his anger was building back up.

Y/n stood there shocked, her brain trying to wrap around what he just said...so he was jealous? She thought as a small smile tugs at her lips.

" so, what you're trying to tell me is that you're jealous? " she says while trying to fight off her smile. He shrugs her hand off his shoulder and crosses his arms, a frown on his face hidden by his helmet.

" I. Am. Not. jealous." He spat out, but now it was all clear to the woman that he was.

It made her feel over the moon knowing that he felt the same about her, otherwise why would he be jealous?

" then why do you hate when gunner compliments me? " she asks, the smile winning the battle as she smiles at him.

" because...i-i just don't! " he argues as he looks away from her. She giggles and walks closer to him, her chest nearly touching his making his breath hitch and heart pound.

" that's exactly what someone who is jealous would say " she tells him with a grin. He scoffs but doesn't look away from her. " you have nothing to be jealous over din, my eyes are set on only one man in this galaxy and if he wasn't so hard headed and stubborn he'd see that " she admits, her eyes looking up at him with such love and adoration that his heart swells.

It was that moment he knew she was talking about him, the smile on his face wide.

She leans her forehead against his helmet, wishing more then anything to be able to kiss the mandalorian.

" I love you din, nothing will ever change that and I hope you can see that " she says softly, the love dripping from her words making him sigh dreamily.

" I love you too. Ever since the moment I saw you " he tells her, causing a giggle to escape her lips, she pulls her head back and rests her hands on his armored chest. His hands falling to her waist.

They both stood there in a comfortable silence until they heard the child walk inside the room, it's big eyes droopy and a yawn escaped from the little creature. Y/n smiles and looks up at mando who hesitates to pull away from the comfort of the womans touch. He walks over and scoops the child up and turns around to look at y/n.

" ready to go now? " he asks, she nods and walks towards him, both of them walking down the hallway.

" yeah, I suppose I should fix what you broke the other day, y'know checking me out and all " she jokes. His cheeks turn red and he chuckles.

" well maybe you shouldn't be strolling by when you look like you did that day." He says, a little smirk on his face beneath his helmet.

" looking like what? " She questions, he stops walking and looks down on her short self.

" stunningly beautiful " was all he said as he walks ahead of her. She blushes with a wide smile as she finally starts walking again.

She was absolutely happy, her heart felt like it was about to explode with happiness knowing that the mandalorian felt the same.

But the mandalorian was beyond happy, the smile would probably never leave his face as he thought about how she said she loved him, those three simple little words meant the whole universe to him. and now that he knew he had her...he felt like he had the whole universe.

Because know that he had her, he did.

just the rushing wind on a rolling mind

pairing; frankie morales x reader summary; just some meet-cute fluff with frankie. you work up in a restaurant near where frankie likes to go backpacking. over a few months of talking, you start to catch feelings. rating; g warnings; a little bit of light angst? which is resolved pretty quickly.  word count; 4.3k

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The way people just dont have Shang-Chi in their radar is beginning to concern me a bit.

Like, I go, "Shang-Chi this and that."

And then its like, "I'm sorry what?"

"The new Marvel movie that's coming out."

"Spiderman?"

Like, I heard Marvel is doing its absolute best NOT to promote the movie, and its just weird and sus to me. This is a marvel asian led movie, it should be everywhere, its important. For a corporation, it would make sense to promote it, if the social motivation is not enough. But its not happening. And its one of the few movies of this phase which actually interests me.

PopBuzz

Marvel fans criticise Disney for not promoting Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

Marvel fans criticise Disney for not promoting Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. 

My Side of the Fence

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader (no Y/N) Word Count: 6685 Warnings: Swearing, fluff, a small touch of angst, brief mention of death, brief mention of a terminal illness, drinking. Summary: When you move in next door to help take care of your ailing aunt, you and Frankie form a budding friendship as you live out your lives on opposite sides of the fence line, that maybe could be something more. A/N: Unbeta’d. Also, any Spanish is courtesy of Google Translate, so I profusely apologize to any native speakers if something is incorrect. This series has a Spotify playlist that you can find on the Series Masterlist. Some suggested listening for this chapter would be: Forever’s Gotta Start Somewhere by Chad Brownlee, Unbreakable Heart by JJ Heller, and Shallow by Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper.

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

Next

It’s a quiet Saturday afternoon. The baby is down for her nap. Santiago is inside getting the two of them drinks. Will and Benny, as always, are late to arrive. It’s game day; the Marlins versus the Phillies. The countertops of his kitchen bogged down in an array of chips, dips, and other snacks. Frankie could be inside, relaxing in the coolness of the air conditioning instead of the buzzing heat of a Florida summer. But he’s not.

For the last fifteen minutes or so, he’s been sitting on a patio chair under the shade of his front porch. Watching you. As you hoist cardboard boxes from the dark green Chevy Trailblazer parked haphazardly in front of the house next door. The front passenger tire is rolled up over the curb, the guts of it stacked ceiling-high with moving boxes, baskets of laundry, and totes of random kitsch. A rickety trailer filled with mismatched bedroom furniture is hitched behind it.

He’s been watching, partly out of curiosity, while he’s been fumbling to string together the right words in his head. Words that would entice you to accept his offer of help without him coming off as some creepy old man. They taunt him, glued at the tip of his tongue, while he sits and broods over his continued silence.

“Your new neighbor is kinda cute, Fish,” Santiago comments offhandedly as he pops out of the front door, gawking over the top of the fence at you. He’s got two longneck beers fisted in one hand, the condensation dripping down the brown glass in thick beads while he stares. He diverts his attention back to Frankie, letting the screen door shut with a squeak-thunk as he strolls over. He drops into one of the wicker patio chairs beside him, holding out one of the beers.

Frankie grabs it as Santi takes a long swig from his, watching as you bound back towards your vehicle.

Santiago quirks an eyebrow and points towards the neighbor’s house with the mouth of his bottle, “What happened to the sweet lady who lived there? I liked her.”

“She’s still around,” Frankie shrugs, sipping his beer. The lady in question, Miss Robin, has lived beside him since he moved in, right after he got out of the service. A little eccentric, she’d quickly earned herself the title of his favorite neighbor. She’d cemented the sentiment further when she’d staunchly supported him after the spectacular failure of his marriage. They’ve had so many conversations he’s lost track of most of them.

She’s old school. Classic. Kooky, but fun.

He’s never seen her go a day without donning ruby red lipstick, an ornate flower crown in her hair, and cat-eye glasses attached to a chain around her neck. She and her wife, Virginia, used to throw the wackiest themed parties for their friends that carried on until the cops came out to shut them down. And every Christmas or birthday, she mails him a handwritten card, even though there’s, at best, ten yards between their houses.

Of course, the parties stopped when Ginny passed away from heart complications just before his daughter Viviana was born. The cards are shorter now, the penmanship less clear. Miss Robin’s health hasn't been doing so great lately. She used to greet him at the fence line when he’d get home from work. Give Vivi a smooch on her chubby baby cheek. A bright red lip print left behind. Matching giggles floating between them as they babbled together.

These days he’s lucky if they get a wave from the picture window out front. She’s gotten frail. Lipstick sloppy and flower crown askew from her shaky hands. She can’t go anywhere these days without a tank of oxygen. It was a shit hand she’d been dealt and he hated watching as her exuberance faded.

She didn’t have any kids of her own, but she had siblings and nieces and nephews aplenty. As her illness progressed, it was getting too hard for her to manage the dishes, laundry, yard work, and other chores by herself. He’d done what he could for her: mow the lawn, bring up her mail, haul her trash bins back and forth from the curb. It was kind, but in the long run, he knew there was no way he could manage both his side of the fence and hers. That’s why you were there.

She’d told him you were her favorite niece as he brought a bundle of bills and junk mail to her door one day. She’d ushered him and Vivi into her flower-laden backyard to explain the new face that would be arriving soon. She knew he would worry about a stranger flitting around her house every day. She’d sat with him on the back patio, sipping ice tea and soaking in the late afternoon sun. Vivi chased butterflies and bugs on her wobbly toddler legs while she told him near everything about you. By the time she was done, the pitcher of tea was empty, the sun was dipping below the horizon, and his daughter was dozing off in his lap. He’d left that day feeling like he knew you almost as well as she did.

That was part of the reason he felt like such a dick right now, watching you fumble with a too-large box as you twisted to fit it through the front door. He eyes the furniture in the trailer critically, wondering how you planned to get it inside by yourself.

“Where the hell are Ironhead and Benny?” Santi questions, checking his watch and glancing both ways down the block, “First pitch is in twenty minutes and-” he trails off when he realizes Frankie isn’t paying attention. He stares between his best friend and you, observing how Frankie’s eyes follow you with each trip you take from the car to the house.

He hums to himself thoughtfully and then chugs the rest of his beer. Smacking his lips with a satisfied “Aah,” before leaping to his feet with a clap of his hands. Frankie watches, dumbstruck, as he saunters to the fence line, leaning against the chain-link as he calls out to you, “Hey gorgeous! You need some help? I promise we don’t bite.”

You’re half-in, half-out of the backseat, reaching for a laundry basket of clean clothes when you hear him and turn his way. He’s handsome with his sharp jaw, dark wavy hair with streaks of silver, and five o’clock shadow. He’s got an almost cocky smile broad on his face while he waits for your answer.

You throw back a grin at him, “Uh, sure. Thanks!”

Aunt Robin has mentioned her neighbors to you. To give you the lay of the land, so to speak. Most were ho-hum, but there were some compelling characters mixed in. There was the nosy biddy three houses down, who eked out her old age gawking at everyone from her windows and reporting “persons of interest” to the neighborhood watch. Then there was the middle-aged couple across the street with two mischievous teenage sons. The boys like to swipe lawn ornaments and set them up in wildly inappropriate scenes across the neighborhood. Lastly, and Aunt Robin’s most-loved neighbor, was the divorced father who lived just next door. He always looked out for her, his daughter was sweet, and she found his friends to be such interesting young men.

You’ve heard a lot about him, actually. More so than any of the others. If this is him, though, he’s different from how you pictured. Cheekier and less reserved than what had been described to you.

“Catfish!” Santiago turns to shout at Frankie, “Let’s help the lady out!”

Leave it to Santi to throw around his swagger and resolve the issue he’d been mulling over for too long.

Unlike his friend, Frankie abandons the barely drank beer in his hands on the deck of the porch. Broad hands swiping the silent baby monitor from the railing beside him as he shuffles down the steps. He’s still clipping it to a belt loop as Santiago is rounding the fence, swinging around the end post into the next yard.

“Pendejo,” Frankie mutters, lifting his well-worn hat off his head to card through his hair, and replacing it before he follows after. He loiters a few paces behind Santi, as you hand his friend one of the boxes from the backseat of the SUV.

He shifts it so he can hold it one-handed, flashing a charming smile as he extends a palm out to you in introduction, “Santiago Garcia.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, offering him your name in return and then glancing over his shoulder. The man behind Santiago is handsome too. He’s a bit taller and more broad than his friend, with coffee-brown hair that winds up around the edges of his ball cap in soft-looking curlicues. You can see a thin silver-white scar just under his left eye that stands out against his tanned skin. He’s got rugged salt and pepper scruff and a matching mustache that twitches along with his upper lip as his eyes meet yours. They are a warm, rich brown and they roam over you, examining your features the same way you did his. Between the two, you think he’s the more attractive one.

Santi follows your line of sight to Frankie, a little amused at being so utterly forgotten, “Fish, stop lurking back there and say hi.”

With that, he readjusts the box in his arms and heads towards the front door, not even asking where that particular parcel belongs. Frankie takes a reluctant step forward, scratching nervously at the nape of his neck. You’re damn pretty. He already knew that, sort of. Miss Robin had shared a few old photos with him, but boy, were they poor comparison to the real thing before him now. It sure as fuck made him more jittery as he reached to shake your hand, too.

You notice how your whole hand is engulfed by his palm and the curves of his fingers. Rough and work calloused, his hand seems a perfect match to the man before you. Beat-up ball cap, red t-shirt stretched out at the neckline from wear and washed out jeans. He has all the appearance of a hardworking, easy-going man. And you like that.

“So...Fish, was it?” you question, raising your eyebrows in unison when he remains silent.

It’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you are.

“It’s Francisco,” he replies, clearing his throat and finally speaking, “or, uh, Frankie. Morales,” then he points to the house behind him with a jerk of his thumb, hoping you don’t notice the weeds in the flowerbeds or the porch rails with their chipping paint, “I live next door.”

As if that wasn’t fucking obvious. He mentally groans at his own stupidity, but you don’t notice as you hit him with a million-watt smile that shoots right to his heart.

“So, you’re the neighbor!” you say excitedly, pulling him into an unexpected hug that leaves him reeling as you continue, “Aunt Robin told me about how wonderful you’ve been to her since she got sick. You have no idea how worried we’ve all been about her being in the house by herself.”

“U-uh,” Frankie stumbles for a reply before one catches on his tongue, “I-It’s no problem. Neighbors are supposed to look out for each other.”

“Well, I really appreciate it,” you beam, pulling back to look him earnestly in the face, “Not enough people feel that way these days.”

Admittedly, he probably has an outdated view of urban Americana and maybe it might be suitable if he lived anywhere else. The neighborhood he lives in isn’t the greatest. Thirty or so years ago it was the ideal with its cookie-cutter houses and tree-lined streets. Nowadays too many families have been pulling out of the city for suburbia and the country. The houses ended up sitting vacant or converted to rentals, leased to sketchy college students looking for cheap rent off-campus. The ones that stayed behind were either too attached to their homes, like Miss Robin, or couldn’t afford to move, like him.

He offers you a lopsided grin that pulls a dimple into his right cheek as he motions to the back of your vehicle, “What should I grab?”

“Anything is fine,” you say, sweeping up the basket of clothes you had set down when Santiago had called out to you. Frankie pops open the tailgate to grab one of the larger boxes stacked back there and follows after you up the front walk.

The house is a quaint single-story two-bedroom affair, the outside a muted pastel blue with white trim and a dark gray roof. The age of its owner is more evident inside, with retro scalloped wallpaper, wood paneling, worn shag carpeting, and faded linoleum. A bright mix of tangerine, canary yellow, and walnut that would have been in vogue when the home was purchased.

Your aunt is seated in a plush velvet lounge chair across the room. Santiago kneels beside her, leaning on the armrest as she pats his cheek affectionately. He whispers something to her that makes her eyes go wide before she bursts into laughter. You give them both a wave as you and Frankie pass through the living room and take a left into a short hallway.

The first door on the right is ajar, the room lit by an outdated ceiling fan that swirls lazily overhead. You step inside, wiggle an elbow towards a pile of boxes in the far corner, and tell him, “Over there is fine,” as you plunk the basket in your arms into the bottom of the closet on the other side of the room. He stacks his armload with the others before the two of you retreat back through the house.

“Francisco,” Miss Robin coos at him as he passes, waving him over with her hands, “You come over here and give me a hug real quick.”

You linger at the doorway, watching as he crosses the room without hesitation, wrapping her petite frame in the broadness of his own. He’s careful of the tubing and nosepiece for her oxygen as he embraces her and you can’t help the grin that spreads ear-to-ear as you brush past Santiago as he’s heading in with another load.

“How’s our Vivi?” she asks Frankie in a soft voice as he pulls away again, “I miss her sweet face.”

He tells her all about how big his daughter is getting. Tall for her age. Her features seem less baby-like every day he picks her up from daycare. Growing into a miniature version of him, as his friends would tell it. Then there are the new words and colors and songs she’s learned.

Aunt Robin smiles softly, watching as his eyes flick up to look at you each time you cross the room with another load.

“The two of you will have to come have dinner with us sometime,” She pats the back of his hand excitedly, “My girl is a good cook. She’ll take care of us,” and then a sly grin pulls at her lips, “I hope you’ll look out for her like you have for me.”

“Of course I will,” he promises, pecking her on the cheek as he stands again, “I should get back to helping before Pope accuses me of slacking.”

With three of you put to the task, it’s quick work emptying out the back of the Trailblazer. A few small totes and a crate of bathroom essentials are all that remain, which are easy enough for you to get later. Frankie and Santiago make the decision to start hauling in the bedroom furniture next, unloading your dresser from the back of the trailer as a souped-up truck rolls into Frankie’s driveway.

All three of you shoot looks over the fence as Will and Benny hop out of the cab. They’re bickering about something as the doors slam behind them. As you watch them you wonder if your new neighbor and his friends have cornered the market on good looks.

“Pope! Fish!” the younger of the two shouts, holding up a six-pack of fruity beer, “What are you boys doing?!” before he motions dramatically towards Frankie’s house, “The game’s already started.”

“More of your friends?” you question Frankie, as he and Santi gently set down the dresser on the walkway. The older one has already jogged over to where the three of you are standing, relieving you of the empty dresser drawer you were carrying.

“Will Miller,” Frankie introduces you to the man in front of you, “and that’s his brother Benny.”

Benny is still standing in his driveway, passing belligerent looks between all of you before his brother barks, “Get over here and help Benjamin!” and he heaves an annoyed sigh before setting his beer on the truck’s hood and hustling over.

You are a little taken aback by all of the unexpected help, as the four of them manage to unload your entire bedroom setup into the spare room in no time flat. Aunt Robin is thrilled over all of the extra visitors, who all greet her with kindness and familiarity. You glance at Frankie, who is laughing as your aunt pinches Benny's cheeks, and are overwhelmingly grateful for the fact that he has clearly done more than just check-in on her every so often.

You’re walking the four of them back to the fence line when a navy blue Kia slips into the driveway behind you, your best friend behind the wheel.

“Turns out I didn’t need you after all Liv!” you crow as she exits the vehicle, taking an appreciative look at your newfound company before nearly being barrelled over by your large Goldendoodle as he charges towards you in excitement.

She lets out an exasperated noise as he trots away, “I’d have been here an hour ago if your furry friend here would have gotten his ass into the damn car when I told him to.”

“My Gatsby?” you fuss, leaning over to scritch him as he prances circles around you before he skirts past you to investigate your neighbor and his friends with inquisitive snuffles at their legs, “Sounds about right for you, you hairy monstrosity.”

Liv takes a few moments to get through some introductions while you try to wrangle in your canine companion.

Gatsby decides that out of the four of them, Frankie is the most interesting subject. His two large paws scrambling up onto his chest, so he can sniff at Frankie’s scruff and slobber at his chin. You tug at his collar with an authoritative, “Get down!” but your neighbor takes it all in an easy stride, rubbing Gatsby down with both hands.

“I probably smell like my dog,” Frankie says aloud, talking to your dog and not you, “Little shit is going to be jealous if he finds out I’ve been petting you.”

As if on cue, a brown and black foxhound pops up into one of the front windows next door, a boisterous yowl sounding through the baby monitor at Frankie’s hip. You hear him groan moments before a shrill cry of “Papa!” carries over the sound of the dog. He nudges Gatsby back down onto all fours and waits for you to get a hold of him before he locks eyes with you, “That’s my baby girl. I gotta go.”

“No, of course,” you tell him, “Thank you so much for the help. I owe you.”

“It’s no trouble,” he smiles at you one last time, before retreating with his friends towards the house.

There are dishes in the sink that need washing. Laundry in the dryer, growing wrinkled and cold. The counters need to be wiped down and the floors swept. But you are in the backyard instead, enticed by the beauty of the day. It’s temperate and bright, dappled sunlight glimmering through the leaves of the maples, oaks, and cypress that spackle the neighborhood. The air is rich with the heady sweet florals of Aunt Robin’s garden and the resonating sounds of joy that drift over the fence.

Frankie’s back deck has been invaded by his friends. They take turns cracking jokes, choosing songs from a classic rock playlist, and rolling in the grass with his beautiful daughter. It’s heartwarming, watching these burly grown men love on that tiny, sweet girl. Which is part of the reason that you’re out here, planting blush pink chrysanthemums in the already overcrowded beds and letting the housework wait. You’ve been drawn in by your neighbor and his friends from the moment that you met them.

You’ve gleaned a lot, observing them from the quiet corners of your yard. Sometimes getting details straight from Frankie. Or through sly comments made by your aunt, who delivers them in breathy whispers against your ear when she catches your lingering looks when they turn up next door.

There’s straight-laced Will, with his clean-cut, all-American appeal. He’s tall and laid-back, with a no-nonsense take on life. Steady and cool no matter what chaos breaks out. His brother, Benny, is cut from a similar cloth, though his personality skews into goofiness. You get the idea he likes to be the loudest person in the room, dropping wise-ass remarks or instigating tickle wars with Vivi until she’s red-faced and lost in a giggling fit. Santiago, well, you could tell from the get-go that he fancies himself as some suave casanova. Full of honeyed words and cheeky grins, strutting around like a peacock looking to mate. He likes to crow to you over the fence, dropping saucy flirtations that always fail to bait you. Then there’s Frankie. He’s warm, smart, and uncommonly kind with a quiet, soft-spoken charm. In the last few months, he and Viviana have managed to stitch themselves into your life as if sewn in by an expert seamstress. It’s a delightfully unexpected symbiosis.

It started small. He’d bring up the bins on trash day if you got home late. Casually remind you as he leaned on the fencepost that you should park in the driveway at night not the street, otherwise the cops will ticket you. You would sneak Alamo, his hound dog, treats threaded between the gaps in the chain-link. Sit out on the back patio with your Bluetooth speaker blasting Disney songs, so you and Vivi could serenade each other while she blew bubbles or splashed in her kiddie pool.

It grew, with him offering to continue to mow the lawn when Aunt Robin’s ancient contraption refused to start. In exchange, you took his daughter on adventures to the neighborhood park where she would burn off most of her excess energy. Afterward, he’d sit at the back patio with you, downing an icy beer while you and Vivi sipped pink lemonade, watching the dogs sprint through their respective yards. You once spent an afternoon clearing his flower beds of weeds and coaxing his dying coreopsis and zinnias back to life. Carefully pruning and watering them over weeks until they bloomed in bursts of gold and garnet and magenta. He canceled a night out with the boys to sort out your washer when the drum refused to spin and it puddled water down the hallway. Sending you next door to use his, watching cartoons with Viviana while the clothes went through the wash.

It evolved into Monday movie nights at his. Some PG thing playing on the flat screen while his daughter wedged herself between the two of you. Gorging on popcorn and pretzels and soda. Then Wednesday night dinners at yours. You’d cook, he’d set the table. Vivi would read stories with Aunt Robin while you both cleaned up. She’d fall asleep on Gatsby's wispy haunches while Frankie waltzed with your aunt in the living room as Eric Clapton and Barry White played on her old 45s. You’d snap pictures of it all with a vintage polaroid camera you found gathering dust in the back of a closet. You’d walk them to the fence, twisting Vivi’s curls around your finger while you kissed her sleepy head goodbye.

There was hardly a day that went by that you didn’t spend at least a few minutes in each other's company. Conversation between the two of you seemed easy, passed back and forth as you went about the routine of your days. It wasn’t hard to see why Aunt Robin was so fond of him. He was the best sort of neighbor to have and an ideal kind of man: respectful, honest, and hardworking. An EMS helicopter pilot for one of the local hospitals, who talked proudly about his job without being arrogant. A devoted father and friend. It was no great wonder that you were hiding a hopeless crush on him.

For all the time the two of you spent together, it felt like there was still a barrier between you, like the fence that separated your yards. Something unbreachable that kept you firmly apart from the realm that encompassed him and his friends. It was likely that Frankie was just doing the neighborly thing, looking out for you as he had your aunt and nothing more. Which only made you feel ridiculous when you imagined being invited into their inner circle. Instead, you would simply pretend you belonged as you eavesdropped on his life from here.

Across the fence, Alamo has been making a pest of himself, stealing snacks from Vivi’s tiny fingers and begging for handouts from the grill. Santi shoos him away with a stern, “¡Vete!” and a clack of the tongs in his hands until the dog retreats. He makes another round of the deck, nearly tripping Joanna, Benny’s fiancé, as he nudges against the back of her knees seeking to be pet. Then trying to scramble into Laura’s lap as she drops to sit beside her husband, until Will pushes the pooch down and playful swats at his hindquarters as he sulks away.

Thoroughly deflected by everyone in the nearby vicinity he skitters down from the deck and trots to the fence line. He plants himself inches from it, yowling dejectedly in your direction until you turn to acknowledge him.

“What’s the matter, pup?” you coo, setting aside your trowel and packing soil around the roots of your freshly planted chrysanthemums. You spread out a new layer of mulch around the stems before giving him a sympathetic look, “Are you being ignored?”

Frankie spots you as he’s returning from the kitchen, a Capri Sun in hand to soothe away his daughter’s tears since his furry troublemaker had gobbled up the last of her goldfish crackers. He watches you toss aside your gardening gloves and scoot up to the chain link to dote on the offending beast, sliding the patio door shut behind him. You beam him a radiant, pearly smile as his gaze lingers and catches your notice as he crosses the deck towards Viviana. You only break it when Alamo summons your attention back to him with a throaty whinge.

Still, he can’t look away as he passes the drink pouch to his daughter’s waiting hands, dropping into a deck chair. You let out a laugh as the dog licks at your fingers through the gaps in the fence. It’s a bright, tinkling sound that makes a tightness pull in his chest. To say that he’s infatuated by you is an understatement. You’ve engraved yourself into his quiet life. Though you may have come along to care for your ailing aunt, he’s found himself and his daughter often the equal recipients of your adoration and kindness.

There’s always a small part of him that feels unworthy of it. Despite regular visits with his therapist, he struggles to accept that he deserves the life he has, with his beautiful daughter, his strong friendship with the boys, and this newfound connection to you. He’s haunted by the demons of his past and a gnawing sense of inadequacy. Still, he tries to remind himself to be grateful. Especially where Vivi is concerned; his baby girl thriving with how you devote your free hours to her. It’s a tempered joy that makes his heart ache when he realizes how much she’s needed more than just his presence in her life.

He thinks about the way you teach her the names of the flowers in his yard, leading her slowly around the perimeter as her tiny hands brush across petals and fern fronds while she repeats them back in her soft toddler stammer. Or how you sit on the front porch with him in the cool hours of early morning as he takes groggy sips of black coffee. Pulling Vivi’s hair up into fancy ponytails, french braids, and poofy buns before he carts her off to daycare, while he listens half-awake to your instructions on how it’s done. You’ve even taken up your aunt’s place at the fence, waiting for them to get home in the evenings so you can smooch her cheek and tell them both goodnight.

It feels so perfect and natural at times that he’s constantly looking for more ways to be near you. To take a stroll around the block with him at sunset, take a day with him and Vivi at the beach, or to have you join in when the boys and their ladies come for a weekend barbecue. But just like the day you moved in, he’s hopelessly tongue-tied and unable to parse out the words, worried it will come out wrong or that his feelings will be on full display when he’d rather keep them close to the chest for now. His divorce has left him with a residual vulnerability that’s made him averse to emotional displays for fear of censure.

“Okay, I’ve got to get back to it, buddy,” you tell Alamo as you rise to your feet, wiping his slobber onto your jeans. He pouts and begins to pace in front of you, stopping to gaze expectantly at your back door and make small whimpers. You know he’s looking for Gatsby to keep him entertained, now that you have to leave him. The two of them like to run each other ragged, sprinting up and down the fence line together with reckless abandon for hours.

Normally your canine would already be out here with you, but he has a penchant for rolling in freshly tilled dirt, so you’ve kept him inside under Aunt Robin’s supervision while you did your planting. The hound dog seems disgruntled by this fact, continuing to pace and making a series of upset sounds at you. You murmur a “Sorry pup,” as you gather up your tools and move on to another section of the garden where you’d spotted some weeds poking up through the mocha brown mulch. He’ll just have to get over his disappointment.

You turn your back, plucking at the offending weeds as his pouting cries go quiet. You assume he’s gone back to being a nuisance to the people in his own yard until a loud bark shatters the quiet hum of insects and softly spoken chatter from Frankie’s deck. A cacophony of voices rise in alarm as you swivel back just in time to see Alamo take a flying leap over the chain link, paws nearly grazing the top as he crests to the other side. His body makes a soft whump as he lands in the grass.

“Jesus!” you shout at the sight of it before the dog is bearing down on you, his wet nose snuffling at your ankles as you try to grab a hold of him. He skirts from your grasp, backing away a few feet before leaning into a bow, rump raised playfully in the air as his tail swishes furiously behind him. You crouch and try to summon him to you, “What’s gotten into you, hm?”

Frankie stares, dumbfounded, for only a moment before he’s jogging in your direction to help. When the dog refuses to come to you, you step towards him instead, but he bolts at your approach. Meanwhile, your neighbor scrambles over the fence and into your yard much less gracefully than his pet. His brows furrow in irritation as he tries to sneak up on him, but the dog turns at the last second, spotting him and darting away as Frankie curses, “Alamo! ¡Maldito perro! Get your ass over here!”

The hound likes this game of cat and mouse since it means the both of you are now giving him your full attention as you pursue him through the grass. Baiting you in by letting you get mere inches from him before he zips off at the last second.

“Mo!” you holler and he turns his head back at the use of his nickname but doesn’t slow down as you continue to follow him, “This is my side of the fence, not yours. Get over here!”

He’s unfettered by your statement, slipping through Frankie’s fingers as he loops back around the yard, stopping briefly to jump on your back door and paw at the glass. The excitement of it all has drawn Frankie’s company from the deck for a closer look and your aunt to the door to watch it unfold. You see Gatsby from the corner of your eye, fogging up the glass as his snotty nose presses against it. You can hear him whine, displeased that you’re out there having fun without him.

“Honey?” Aunt Robin asks through the screen of the door, “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine, Auntie,” you reply with a breathless huff, side-eying Frankie as he dives unsuccessfully towards his dog again, “Alamo just...came for a visit.”

He moves beside you, leaning onto his knees to recover from the chase, as Alamo pauses several feet from the two of you, grumbling an apology, “Sorry about this.”

“Not your fault he’s a pain in the ass,” you smirk, trying to form some kind of game plan to lure him in, “We could try to bribe him?”

Frankie gives you a nod as you quick-step towards the house. You keep treats on a shelf just inside the door as a reward for Gatsby when he does his business and doesn’t destroy any of Aunt Robin’s flowers. The pup in question is still watching you through the glass, alone now that your aunt has confirmed nothing is amiss, and returned to the other room.

“Back up Gats,” you warn, cracking the door open just enough to reach into the box without giving the Goldendoodle space to escape. Alamo hasn’t missed out on this though, yapping at him in an effort to incite his friend to join him in terrorizing you and Frankie. Which successfully spurs Gatsby on. He wedges himself against your legs, pushing with his full weight until you are stumbling back and he is barging out the door. You let out a sigh as you walk back to Frankie’s side, “And now there’s two.”

The both of them are running laps through your yard, letting out barks and yips and playful growls as they zip by at breakneck speed. Frankie takes a lunge towards Alamo as he passes by, but his reflexes aren’t a match for the canine. The hound easily avoids him at the last second, but Gatsby doesn’t pick up on his friend’s detour soon enough to do the same, trying to zip between Frankie’s slightly splayed legs and knocking him off balance. He throws his arms out for stability and you instinctively reach for him, but it only ends up in throwing him further off-kilter as his weight pulls you both down.

Frankie lets out an aggravated groan as his back slams into the ground, having tried to twist in a way that his body ends up as a buffer between you and the dirt. He takes the brunt of the fall, as you end up half across his chest, your head knocking hard into his chin. He tilts his head to look you over as you sit up, rubbing softly at the crown of your skull, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, brushing your hair out of your face. He watches as it cascades over your shoulder, dogs forgotten, as he’s struck by the thought of how easy it might be from this position to curl his fingers in the strands at the nape of your neck and pull you down to kiss him. Curious about what your skin might taste like if he were to pepper kisses down your jaw and lave at the pulse point of your neck.

His eyes bore into yours, rich orbs of hickory blazed with amber flecks as the sun catches in the iris. He smells of spicy cologne, charcoal smoke, and sweat. You give him the softest smile as you glimpse briefly at his lips and wonder if they’re as warm and soft as they look. Then up to his mop of curls that have come loose from underneath his cap in the fall. You briefly consider trying to twist them into ringlets like you’ve done with his daughter's hair, just as someone nearby clears their throat loudly. You both look up to see Benny leaning on one of the fence posts, a cheesy grin scrawled across his face.

“Fish!” He prods at his friend, “If you wanted to sweep her off of her feet, there are better ways to do it.”

“Fuck you, Benjamin,” Frankie spits as he flips him the bird, rolling onto his side before standing, his back and knees complaining at the effort. His other friends, at least, had the decency to keep their teasing comments to themselves. He leans down and offers you a hand up before scooping his hat off the ground and replacing it on his head. The dogs are still completely caught up in their game, tearing playfully through your backyard. He doesn’t want to impose on you, but after that last disastrous attempt, he doesn’t want to try and wrangle Alamo again until the furry beast has gotten this burst of energy out of his system. He pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance as he glances back to you, “Can he just, I dunno, stay over here until he gets bored? I’m too old to be chasing him all over hell and back. I’ll come back for him after he wears himself out.”

“I don’t think Aunt Robin will mind,” you agree with a small shrug of your shoulder, just as resigned to let them entertain themselves as he is. You’ll just have to go back to weeding the garden and gazing longingly into his yard. You try not to let your disappointment read on your face, plastering on a teasing smile as you motion towards the fence, “Are you planning on hopping back over that way, or do you want to go the long way this time?”

“I’ll go around please,” Frankie chuckles quietly, “My back can’t take any more abuse.”

Leaving the dogs to their own devices, you walk side-by-side with him towards the back door. You lead him through the house and out the front, a silent wave to your aunt as the two of you pass by. Just out of the front door he turns to you suddenly. He stumbles on the words for a moment, pink tongue peeking out between his lips before he speaks, “Listen, do you, maybe, want to come over for a bit? I at least owe you a drink for putting up with my menace of a dog. I promise the company isn’t terrible either. Benny’s a pain but the rest of them are decent enough.”

You beam him one of your million-watt smiles at the offer, “I’d love that! Let me just pop back in to let my aunt know.”

His eyes follow you as you disappear back inside, heart fit to burst. He’s not sure what this is between the two of you or where it might go, but this seems as good a first step as any.

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Next

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FRANKIE TAGLIST: @thegreenkid

MSOTF TAGLIST: @javierpinme @frankie-catfish-morales

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Too little too late (2/?)

Plot: Steve arrives in the future but he was off by a few years. After finding out where the reader lived, Steve sets on his way to win you back.

A/n I know these are short chapters but I promise it’ll get better. In the next chapter you’re going to find out how the reader and Marcus got together.

Part one

Keep reading

Reblog if you love Chris Evans

I mean

How could you not

Love this man?

What happens once you kill yourself? Because I'm ready to go.

You wanna know what happens once you kill yourself? Your mother comes home from work and finds her baby dead and she screams and runs over to you and tries to get you to wake up but you won’t and she keeps screaming and shaking you and her tears are dripping onto your face and your dad hears all the screaming and runs into the room and he can’t even speak because the child that he loved and the child that he watched grow up is gone forever and finally your little sister runs into the room to see what all the fuss is about and she sees you dead. The person she looked up to and loved. The person she bragged about to  her friends, the person she wanted to be just like when she grew up, the person that made her feel safe. But she’s never really going to get to grow up and smile and laugh and love because she’ll always be consumed with this feeling of missing you. And now there’s something missing from your family and they can barely look at each other anymore because everything reminds them of you but you’re gone and hurts more than anything. and you think that your mom never cared because she was always busy and yelling at you to finish your homework and clean your room and forgot to say I love you sometimes but really, she loved you more than anything and she doesn’t leave the house anymore, she can’t even get out of bed and she’s getting thinner and thinner because it’s too hard to eat. Your father had to quit his job and he doesn’t sleep anymore, every time he closes his eyes he sees his baby dead, and the image never goes away no matter how much alcohol he drinks. And at school your best friend sees that your seat is empty and she gets this sick feeling in her stomach and that’s when she hears the announcement. You killed yourself. And suddenly she’s screaming and crying in the middle of class and no one even bothers comforting because they’re all  busy sitting there staring at your empty seat with tears dripping down their cheeks and all she wants is for you to hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay like you always did, but this time, you’re not there to do it, everything is dark now that you’re gone and her grades are slipping, she barely goes to school anymore and she ended up in hospital after taking too many pills because she wanted to see you again. the girls who used to make fun of the way you dressed feel their throats get tight, they don’t talk to each other anymore, they don’t talk to anyone, they’re all in therapy trying so hard not to blame themselves but nothing works. and your teacher who always gave you a hard time stares blankly at the wall, she quits her job a few days later. And then your boyfriend hears the news and he can’t breathe, he still calls you a lot just to hear your voice and he talks to you on facebook but you never message him back, he can’t fall in love again because every girl he meets reminds him of you, he’s never going to get over you, he loved you and he cries himself to sleep every night, hating himself and slicing his skin because he couldn’t save you and he’s never going to hold you in his arms or hear you laugh again. Now everyone who knew you, whether they were a big part of your life or someone you passed in the hallway a few times a week, they carry this aching feeling around inside them because you’re gone, and they miss you, and they don’t know why you left but it must’ve been their fault and they should’ve stopped you and they should’ve told you they loved you more and that feeling is never going to go away. And so you killed yourself

but you killed everyone else around you too.