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macfrog · 9 months

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rack 'em

the girlies watched triple frontier last week and it was the single most inspiring thing i have ever seen so here’s a lil frankie fic to cleanse my mind. dedicated to my babies @gracieispunk (who put this concept in my head for the wee laddies), @hellishjoel & @strang3lov3 🤍

pairing: bbf!frankie morales x f!reader

summary: when your parents ask you to housesit for them, you take the opportunity to spend some quality time back in your hometown, hanging with your older brother and...getting reacquainted with his best friend

warnings: 18+ (minors dni!!!) reader is santiago's younger sister, she and frankie do not get along, teasing & touching, dubcon (reader is a little drunk, frankie is not), oral sex (f receiving), alcohol consumption, quick mention of dr*gs, cursing, frankie's a bit of a dick but reader gives as good as she gets

word count: 6.1k (cause apparently i don’t know how to write short fics 🤪)

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When you were four, a new family moved in across the street. Nobody knew them – your mom spent two straight days trying to scoop for information. Who they were, where they’d moved from, what was with the banged-up Ford pickup they drove. Nobody knew a thing.

You didn’t take much interest, being four years old – two months shy of your fifth birthday, by the way – and too invested in whatever politics a woman of your age finds herself wrapped up in, but you noticed one key thing about them.

The mom had tattoos.

Two full sleeves. Colorful ones, too. A bright red heart on her shoulder, a green snake wrapped around her forearm – among others. It was fucking cool, alright? No matter how much your mom whispered to Ms. Teller over the fence about them.

One night, when you were supposed to be in bed, you snuck out of your room and crossed the landing to your brother’s. Santiago and his friends were all staying at Tom’s, and you knew that in his desk he had permanent markers. You clicked the door open, as quiet as you could, and crept over his matted carpet to the drawer. You took one Sharpie, and spent the night adding snakes and hearts and whatever else came to mind to your Barbies’ arms, legs, faces, necks.

They looked fucking awesome. Just like that mom across the street.

But somehow or other – and I’m not blaming anyone – the next morning, a drawing appeared on the bathroom wall. In Sharpie. Your mom hit the roof.

As soon as Santi got home, she dragged him by the ear into the bathroom and pointed a trembling finger at the drawing. You forget what it was – it’s been years, and you were never much of an artist.

His plea of innocence helped him none; she knew he owned Sharpies, knew he sucked just as bad as you did at drawing, and he was grounded for three whole weeks. No soccer practice, no TV, no PlayStation. Which, at thirteen, is basically a stint in Rikers.

Your brother, though…he was always better than your mom at reading your mind. He saw the guilt on your face plain as the black marker behind the toilet tank. He cornered you in your bedroom as soon as she went back downstairs, and established three key rules going forward.

One: do not enter his room ever again.

Two: no touching his stuff.

And three: anytime he took the fall for you, you owed him. Big time.

You’ve followed the rules ever since. You barely knew what the inside of his room looked like, growing up. But it worked, ‘cause ever since the Sharpie incident of ’99, you two remained closer than most siblings with an eight-year age gap.

So, now, two days into a two-week stay back in your hometown to housesit while your parents head off on a cruise to celebrate their anniversary, you’re in the car with him. Listening to music, bitching about your mom, arguing over the best Cola flavor.

It’s like old times.

“She said, How’s my baby girl?” you yell over Stevie Nicks’s voice, reading from your phone.“And when I said I’m fine, she said, No, I meant the dog. Is she fucking serious?”

Santiago’s head tilts back with laughter, dark curls nudging against the headrest. He’s driving you to Lucky’s, a local sports bar he and his buddies frequent. He promised when he picked you up at the airport he’d take you out, get you drunk, and he was holding to it.

You pull your legs down off the dash as he turns into the parking lot, pulling in right under the white fluorescent sign, four-leaf clover flashing under it.

“She’s looking forward to seeing you when they get back,” he tells you, switching the engine off.

“Oh, yeah? That why she didn’t even hang around to see me before they left?”

He hands you a smug grin, shrugging his shoulders. “Can’t have it all, big shot. You move a thousand miles away, you forfeit your chance of being the favorite.”

You swing your door open and hop out, chasing him around the car to follow him inside. “You say that like I was ever in the fucking running.”

He snorts, pushing the door open, and a loud cheer roars through the bar. You blush as you follow your brother across the room to two tables full of familiar faces.

“Hey, baby.” Your best friend’s arms pull you in, her gold hoop earrings cold against your cheek. She smells like rose and cedarwood.

“Mal,” you hum, smiling as she pulls away.

“My mom said your parents only just made it on board,” she says, detaching strands of her long, black hair from the cuff of your jacket. “Said they had a flat tire and had to race to get to the boat.”

Your head jerks back. “She never told me any of that. Just asked how Ange was.”

Mal snorts.

“Hey, lil Santi!”

You glance over your shoulder to watch as Benny Miller stalks over, almost shoving some old guy off his feet, arms wide open, wide grin spread across his lips. His brother, Will, follows behind, and gives your shoulder a loving slap when Benny pulls you in for a hug.

“How’s Boston treatin’ ya?”

“Good,” you reply. “How’s…MMA treating you?”

“Good!” he echoes, eyebrows almost reaching his hairline.

It’s kinda part of the deal that your older brother’s friends become brothers in their own right to you, especially when you’re as young and easily-influenced as you were. They used to use you in their elaborate plans – send you in as a distraction while they filled their pockets with food at parties, or use your smaller stature to their advantage when attempting to break into places they shouldn’t.

By the time you were old enough to follow their orders, they were well into their teens. Which is basically grown-up, as far as six-year-old you was concerned. They were always allowed to do things you’re still not sure your mom would permit you to do at twenty-eight, like disappear all day without checking in, or come home black and blue after an organized street brawl with the boys from the other side of the neighborhood.

But there was no denying they cared about you. Will, Benny, and Tom, at least. They showed their affection by ruffling your hair as they passed, or sneaking you candy under the table even after your mom had told you you’d had enough. They’d christened you ‘lil Santi’, a name that – despite the embarrassment it always casts over you anytime you hear it – still sticks to this day.

Your brother’s friends were family to him, and, by extension, family to you.

Well. All but one.

Frankie Morales – nickname Catfish: long-time best buddy of your big brother, and long-time fucking asshole. There isn’t one thing on Earth that you two see eye to eye on, except for that very fact: he hates you almost as much as you hate him.

Always have, always will.

He’s in trouble almost regularly for drug-related stuff you don’t bother asking Santiago about. You don’t need to hear details to know he’s a pain in the ass. He’s been antagonizing you for as long as you’ve known him – where the others ruffled your hair, he’d shove into your shoulder as he passed, sending you – and whatever you were holding – flying. Any attempt you made at conversation with any one of them resulted in an argument between you and Frankie.

You hated him. Fucking hated him.

And tonight, you almost think yourself lucky. Almost go over to thank Santi for not inviting him, when you notice the silhouette of his baseball cap and that denim button up hunched over in a bar stool, and your eyes narrow.

You can’t help yourself. It’s been a years-long feud. And you’re old enough to take him on now. So, you stride over.

“You here to poison my drink?”

“What?” he asks, shaking his head. Already exasperated just by the sight of you.

“I bet you cheered the loudest when I walked in.”

He shrugs. “Cheered when your brother gave me fifty bucks to show face.”

Your upper lip curls. When the bartender notices you standing, elbows propped on the bar, he leans over.

“Beer, please.” Your smile twists into a grimace when you catch Frankie watching you. “What are you doing here? You have to be the person least excited to see me home.”

“I told you,” he says, lifting the bottle to his lips, “I’m bein’ paid.”

“Alright, so what do I gotta pay you to make you leave?”

Frankie scoffs, opens his mouth to answer what you’re sure is a comment laced with just as much venom, when Will’s strong arms slap down on each of your shoulders.

“We buyin’ our favorite veterinary nurse a drink, Francisco?”

You take your beer from Nick’s outstretched hand, sliding him the cash in return, and hold it up to Will in reply. “I’m good, thanks. Wouldn’t wanna eat into that fifty bucks, Catfish,” you mutter, turning to wander off.

You weave in and out of bodies, making your way to the opposite side of the bar where the pool tables sit. Doused in the warm strip light over the green felt, Santi chalks his cue ready to play against Mal, who’s already lining up her shot.

You hop up on a stool right next to the table, glancing back over to the bar where Frankie sits, now turned to face your direction. His elbow sits on the wooden surface, head turns from the football game showing behind the bar, over to you. And when he sees you looking, turns back to the TV screen, cool expression never changing.

“You done?” Mal asks Santiago, feeding the cue through her ring-decorated fingers.

He nods, tossing the chalk back over to you. “Better get your purse out, Bennett. Lotta sober people in here, all gonna want a free drink once you lose.”

“As if,” she breathes, and breaks the rack.

Somewhere throughout the game – a grueling and controversial one, by all accounts – Frankie makes his way over, following Will. You’re thankful when he plants himself on the other side of the table, one hand in his jeans pocket, the other around a bottle of beer. Though the light only comes up to his chest, right where the last button is done up, you notice him looking. Every fucking glance.

It pisses you off. Not the glancing. The way it makes you feel having him watch you. Wherever it comes from, you swallow it down with one big gulp of alcohol.

The game ends in a questionable loss. This side of the table swears the white skimmed off of Mal’s final solid when Santi hit it, right before it potted the black. The other side objected, claimed it was a clean shot ‘n you all know it. A winner wasn’t officially announced, but, being that Mallory Bennett is a force of nature where her competitive nature is concerned, Santiago was forced to buy the loser’s round.

She saunters up to you with her free whiskey in her hand, silver jewelry clinking off of the cold glass.

“Proud of yourself?” you ask, smirking.

She hands you your third beer of the night, sweeping her silky hair out of her face. “It hit it, alright? I saw it move.”

“Was that before or after you nudged the table?”

Mal holds a finger to her lips. You swat her hand away and the pair of you giggle, leaning into each other like schoolgirls whispering secrets in the playground.

“You know something,” Santiago materializes over Mal’s shoulder, shaking his head, “if you gotta cheat to beat me, I’ll give you the win.”

“Oh, get out,” you throw back. “Don’t blame her for your bad aim. Ms. Teller could’ve hit that shot and she’s got cataracts in both eyes.”

Your brother nods at you, tongue in his cheek. “Alright, smartass. Grab a cue.”

You scoff. Look around the room, shaking your head. The crowd has dispersed a little, folks have turned back to the TV screens, shifted focus back to the alcohol in their glasses. And then you look back to Santiago, holding his arms out.

“Alright. Fuck it.”

You hop down and snatch the second cue, wandering around the table while he racks the balls. He lifts the triangle, rolls the white over to you, and tells you to break.

The multicolored balls scatter in a fleet, two stripes tumble into pockets, and you stand back to survey your options. There’s a third stripe close to a pocket on the right, so you wander around to your left and turn.

“’scuse me,” you mutter, nudging Frankie’s stomach with the bottom of your cue.

He shoots you a dead-eyed stare, and takes one step back. And then his eyes drop, and you feel like you could slap him.

But you’re three – almost four – beers deep, and there are heads turning to watch how this plays out, and you can feel the bassline of the music rippling up from the soles of your feet all through your body, and you can feel the heat of his stare on the backs of your thighs, right where the hem of your dress sits.

Suddenly, slapping isn’t what you want to do to him.

Your head turns back to the pool table and you bend over, drawing the cue back between almost shaking fingers, and slam it into the white. It fires into the red striped ball, which hits the corner of the cushion, millimeters away from falling into the pocket.

You sigh, straightening up and waiting for your brother to begin his taunting, but it never comes. Instead, he fishes into his pocket for his phone, tapping the screen and holding it to his ear.

“Yep?” There’s a pause, Santiago’s face sours, and then he glances around the bar. “Right now? Really? No, it’s just…” He sighs. “Alright. I’ll be there. Just…I’m coming. I’m coming.”

He hangs up the phone and curses under his breath, then turns back to you, answering the question on your expression with: “One of our informants just got himself killed. I gotta go.”

“You haven’t even taken a shot yet,” you huff, taking his cue when he holds it out.

“I’ll make it up to you, hermana, promise. How are you gonna get home?”

You shrug. Mumble an, “I dunno.”

His eyes scan the room, passing over Will – already worse for wear, leaning shakily against a nearby table slurring to a group of strangers, then to Benny – stumbling out of the bar door with some girl on his arm, and finally land on the figure behind you, sliding a bowl of peanuts across the table to himself.

“Morales,” Santiago calls, and you throw the cues down on the felt.

“No, no way,” but your brother is already pushing past you to get to his friend. “Pope, no fucking w–”

Frankie turns, handful of nuts, cheek full and chewing.

“I gotta go, trouble at work. Can you do me a favor, man, ‘n make sure she gets home alright?”

“No,” you repeat. “He is not taking me home.”

“Baby,” Santi pleads, “just go with him, please?”

“I’ll walk. It’s, like, a twenty-minute walk.”

“No way. Mom would kill me.”

“Well, then, we just don’t tell her. Pope, please.”

He ignores you. “You are not walking home after dark. No.”

“Probably be safer than in the truck with him.”

Frankie’s head stops flitting between the two of you and his glare settles on yours. “Fuck you,” he spits, shaking his head.

“Right back at you,” you reply, insincere smile on your lips.

Santiago puts his palms together and holds them out to you. “Look, just – please. Just this once. I’ll owe you one.”

He doesn’t owe you one often. Makes a point of deliberately trying not to owe you one. This is an interesting offer. You sigh, and roll your eyes.

“Fine. You better fucking pay me back, though!”

“You got it,” he says, patting your shoulder. “Thanks, man,” he whispers to Frankie as he passes, slipping through the crowd toward the exit.

You and Frankie are left, two feet apart, filled with silence and resentment.

“You looking for someone else to hand your ass to you, lil Santi?” he asks, tossing another handful of peanuts into his mouth.

“You’re funny.” You hand him a smile, which drops the second he looks at it.

But when you turn back to the table and lift the cues, you hand one to him. Push it into his chest, shoot him a narrow-eyed glance.

“One game. And only ‘cause I need a sub.”

He dusts his hands together, shrugs. “Shouldn’t take me too long.”

You stalk back over to Mal, who’s giggling into her glass. “You two are unbelievable.”

“Don’t.” You hold your hand up, taking another swig of beer as Frankie lines up.

On his first shot, he pots that same red you were trying to hit before. His eyes lift only for a second, but you catch the cocky look he throws you and screw your face up.

“Fucking…ass,” you whisper.

Frankie’s shoulders jump, his teeth take his bottom lip. He’s laughing to himself when he takes his next shot, and pots another stripe. And then he stands up straight, holds his hands out.

“Just tell me when.”

“When what?”

“To start going easy on you.”

Fuck off. Fuck off, fuck you, fuck this. Fuck!

One more ball potted and finally, fucking finally, he misses a shot. It’s an impossible shot, anyway, there’s no way in hell he was gonna make it, but that’s not what matters. What matters is the way you twirl your cue in your fingers, then lift it and wander around the table, squeezing between Frankie and the wooden edge to get to your shot.

Your ass brushes past his jeans, and when you turn your head to whisper a sarcastic Sorry, he fucking growls. Low, almost inaudible. But just enough for you to notice, and enough for you to keep pissing him off.

The buzz you’re getting from antagonizing him this much must awaken some sort of billiards skillset you never knew you fucking had, because you pocket four balls in quick succession. Red, then green, then blue, and purple. There’s one ball between you when Frankie rounds the table, eyes scanning the felt for the next best shot he can take.

“Hurry the fuck up,” you mutter as he passes by you, on his third lap of the table.

He tsks. “Impatient,” he replies, shoulder brushing yours heavily. You feel the rough denim of his jeans graze your thighs, the weight of him against your backside for the second time. You push back, leaning into him as he moves past, then leans over, slinks his cue between his fingers, and takes his shot.

The yellow sails into the nearest pocket like there’s a magnet pulling it. The purple does the exact same – he barely has to tap it with the tip of the cue and it’s dropping in atop its predecessor.

Frankie turns, shimmying a little up the table, hip nudging yours out of the way. “Move,” he mumbles, shutting one eye to aim for the black. “Come on…” he breathes, and then shoots.

It bounces off of the opposite side of the table, thudding off of the cushion before it’s rolling toward the pocket and dropping in with a plunk.

He stands, fixing his baseball cap, and leans the cue against the table. “Good game, loser,” he says, ruffling your hair as he passes you.

“What age are you?” you sneer as he wanders back off to his beer, waiting for him on the table next to his bowl of peanuts.

Will wraps an unsteady arm around your shoulder as Frankie tips his bottle against his lips. He’s swaying, dragging you left and right with him as if you’re on a boat.

“He’s…he’s always been the best outta us all,” Will slurs, using his bottle to point at Frankie. “’s why he’s such a good pilot. Good aim.”

You sigh, pushing his heavy arm off yourself and slip back over to Mal, who hands you a sad smile and fixes your hair.

“It was a good attempt,” she says.

“Oh, shut up,” you reply, tossing your bottle up and draining the last of it onto your tongue. “I need another drink.”

You cross the room, suddenly less blurry and tilted, more boring and flat, and lean over the bar. “Nick,” you call, and he twists around, “grab me another–”

“It’s alright, Nick,” a voice yells over your shoulder, “I think she’s good.”

You spin around and it’s that stupid fucking baseball cap and the stupid denim button up again.

“What, I’m not allowed to drink now?”

Frankie’s head cocks. “You don’t think you’ve had enough?”

“I’ve had three. Three beers. The fuck is your problem?”

He tuts, glances left and right, and then back to you. “I think I should get you home.”

“I think you should mind your business.”

“Are you this fucking difficult with everyone when you’re drunk?”

“Nope,” you beam at him, “just you.”

He lets go of the grip he has on your arm and starts backing away. “I’m leaving, baby,” he tells you, nodding goodbye to Nick. “You’re either coming, or Pope’s gonna hear all about it.”

You ball your fists, watching the door swing closed behind him. Your feet stay rooted to the ground, eyes flitting from the parking lot over to Mal, who lifts her arms in a question. You shake your head in response, and her shoulders drop.

Sorry, you mouth, beginning to walk off in Frankie’s footsteps.

Mal blows you a kiss, winks once, and then salutes you goodbye. You shoulder out of the bar.

The ride back to your parents’ place is silent, except for the dull drone of whatever fucking music Frankie has choking out of his radio. You watch your hometown pass by, never taking your eyes off of the blurry streetlights or passing mailboxes, refusing to turn your head further than the middle of the windscreen at him.

He’s humming along to the song, jaw swinging as he chews on gum, arm hanging out of his open window. Everything he does is so fucking irritating, like a constant buzzing in your ear, an eyelash stuck in your eye, the feeling of stepping on a wet floor in socks.

So why, every time you do sneak a glance of him out of your peripheral, does the sight of those focused brown eyes, the strands of gray in his beard, the way his curls flick under the brim of his cap – why does it all stir something inside of you?

Frankie pulls up across the street from your house, white wood a milky blue in the moonlight. You unbuckle your seatbelt and let the strap whip off of your body, rattling against the interior of the truck. The most you’re willing to offer him is a nod of the head in thanks, which he returns, and your fingers hook around the door latch.

“Hey, mind if I come in ‘n use your bathroom?” he asks.

You pause. “Uh, yeah. I mind. No.”

“Come on, baby, I gotta piss like a racehorse.”

You scoff, ignoring him and slip down out of the truck. The door slams closed and you wander over to your parents’ drive, hearing a second slam as you cross the street.

“Uh, where do you think you’re going?”

“If your mom knew you weren’t letting me use her bathroom, she’d kill you, ‘n you know it.”

“My mom doesn’t know you like I know you, asshole,” you retort, but he’s still following you to the front door. “Just – alright. Do me a favor and disinfect it once you’re done. I don’t need them coming home to piss all over the floor.”

“You think my aim’s that bad? Just schooled you in a game of pool.”

You sigh, refusing to rise, and open the door. There’s the gentle scuffing of claws on the wooden flooring, trotting nearer and nearer in the dark hallway, and then the weight of your childhood dog shoves into your body.

“Hi, Angie. Hi, girl,” you whisper, scratching the dog’s white fur, her front paws against your tummy.

She jumps down when Frankie slips in behind you, wandering over with her tail swinging back and forth. He crouches down and holds his hand out, cooing, “Hi, baby,” as she nuzzles against his palm.

“She likes most folks who come by,” you utter, hanging your coat over the banister. “Don’t think you’re special.”

“She always loved me most,” he says, still fussing over the pup, “didn’t you, girl? Yeah, yeah you did.”

You roll your eyes and wander upstairs, leaving Frankie to find the bathroom, use it, and fuck off on his own.

It’s been almost eight years since you last lived here, but your room still looks oddly similar. Same bedframe, different sheets. Same wallpaper, only not covered in posters of your favorite bands. Same shelves, too, just that they hold stuff like vases and seashells and other random ornaments your mom’s picked up, rather than a collection of your favorite movies or framed photos of you and your friends.

You pull your dress over your shoulders and kick your boots off, grabbing a tee from your bag to sleep in. The Nirvana logo lies loose across your chest, the hem dancing along the line of your panties.

As you kneel on the mattress, tossing the million and one fucking pillows your mom has stacked down to the foot of the bed, you hear the door creak open.

“Damn,” Frankie mutters, glancing around the room, “haven’t been in here since I was, what, seventeen?”

“Weren’t welcome then, still not welcome now.”

“You still got that Black Eyed Peas poster rolled up somewhere?” He’s walking in, boots scuffing along the wooden floor.

“Are you lost?”

He looks over to you, stood by the bed, t-shirt barely reaching your thighs. “You know something, you ‘n your brother are so fucking different, it amazes me you’re related.”

“I imagine there’s a lot that amazes you, dumbass.”

He scoffs. There’s a hint of genuine humor in it. Like he’s impressed. And then his eyes scan down your body, lingering on the bare skin of your legs, shifting up to the pink cotton of your panties. They shoot back up when you speak again.

“Seriously, dude. What are you still doing here?”

Frankie turns to the dresser by the window, adorned with framed pictures of you and Santi as kids. “Making sure you get home alright, like Pope told me to.”

“Well,” you shrug, “I’m home, ‘n I’m alright. So…”

He picks up a silver frame; inside, faded by the sun and years that have passed, lives a photograph of you and your brother. He’s on his BMX bike, wide, toothless grin, and you’re behind him, standing on the pegs and gripping onto his t-shirt sleeves as you battle not to fall off.

Frankie laughs a little, turning the frame to show you. “You were always so fuckin’ annoying, you know that?” And then, with a shake of his head as he sets the frame back down, “Still are.”

You cock your head, throwing your hands up with an infuriated sigh. “If I’m so annoying, then why are you still here?”

The look he gives when he turns back around answers that question for you, in a way that his words never could. Never would, to be honest. He’d never admit the thoughts running through his head right now, same as you won’t admit that, likewise, they’re running through yours.

It’d be fucking weird. It’d be wrong, hooking up with his best friend’s little sister. Santi only asked him to get you home safe, not follow you inside, walk straight into your bedroom, look at you the way he’s looking at you right now, silhouetted by the streetlight shining through your still-open shades.

So then, why can’t he walk away?

You make to step forward, and Frankie’s already moving. He meets you halfway, stood on some fancy-looking rug your mom probably spent too much money on, his arms instantly finding your waist underneath your short tee.

“You fuckin’ piss me off, you know that?”

“I know,” you breathe, bottom lip brushing against his, “I know.”

He pushes you backward, sends you stumbling across the floor on your toes until the back of your calves hit the mattress and you fall, dragging him down on top of you. You knock the baseball cap from his head and run your hands through his brown curls, pulling him nearer as his hands begin to move north under the worn cotton of your shirt.

His rough hands cup your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples as his lips fall to your neck, sucking a bruise into your soft skin.

“Frankie,” you breathe, “what the fuck are we–?”

“Shut up,” he whispers back, teeth grazing over your collarbone. He’s moving down, kissing over your tee as he goes, until he’s kneeling on the floor, your legs dangling off the bed either side of his body.

You push yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he presses fleeting kisses to the insides of your thighs, making his way closer and closer to your center, covering ground painfully slow.

“Would you – just – fucking – get there?” you ask, head tilting back with a groan.

“Always so fucking impatient,” he mutters, pulling your legs further apart. “Makes sense, though,” he whispers, finger hooking around your underwear, “already so wet.”

“Dick,” you hiss, laying back flat on the bed.

Frankie holds the lace off of your core and then dips his jaw, lips lightly ghosting across your folds. You hum with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance, ready to buck your hips up to him if it’ll just make him move faster.

But you don’t have to wait a second longer. He licks one broad stripe up your center, pressing one chaste kiss to your clit before his tongue dips where you need him most. Your legs go to clamp shut, stopped by his shoulders.

“Fuck, Frankie,” you moan, hand coming down to knot your fingers in his hair.

He hums against your pussy, tongue lapping inside you, nose at the perfect angle for you to rut your clit against.

“Fuck…” you repeat, and he fucking laughs against you. “Quit it,” you hiss, and he lifts his head.

Your eyes shoot open, finding his. Alarmed meeting cool.

“Fine,” he says, smirking. “I’ll quit it.”

“Don’t you fucking– Frankie.”

“Your words, baby.” He shrugs, eyes flitting down to your cunt, soaked under his touch.

“I didn’t mean it,” you moan. “Why are you such a fucking asshole?”

He looks back up. The corners of his mouth pull his smirk into a grin. Some devilish grin, thick with arrogance.

“I’m an asshole,” he echoes, elastic of your panties shifting up to his knuckles.

He watches your cunt as he does it. Runs two fingers between your folds, coating them in your arousal, dipping them deeper until they’re at your entrance.

Your head hits the bed heavily, your body writhing over the white sheets as he pushes closer and closer. His free hand comes up and pushes down on your tummy, holding you steady to the mattress, then –

“I’m the asshole.”

He inserts his fingers, curled, thick, stretching you out over his hand as he pushes in deep. A gasp passes through your lips, exchanging itself for a throaty moan when Frankie begins fucking you on his hand, lowering his lips to your clit again.

His wrist pumps in and out, tongue swirling over the swollen bud, palm pushing harder into your stomach to keep you from upsetting his rhythm with how badly you want to move around.

Your fingers lock a vice grip around his hair, your hips the only part of your body he’ll let you move. You establish a pace of your own, fucking up to meet his fingers, grinding yourself on his wet tongue.

“I’m close,” you pant, Nirvana logo distorted in ruffles at the base of your neck. “So fucking close, Frankie.”

And he can feel it. Feel you tightening around his hand, feel the rhythm of your hips start to miss beats, move clockwise instead of up and down. He can hear as your mouth stops rounding the words, fading into slurs and breaths and moans instead of coherent language.

“F-Frankie,” you cry out, and it’s like music to his ears. “’m there, I’m–”

“On my mouth, baby,” he mutters, withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his lips again, tongue pushing inside you as you fall apart all over him.

Your back lifts from the bed, fists ball around his hair, pushing his face even harder against your cunt as you ride out your high. You’re moaning his name over and over, echoing off the walls of your little room, escaping out the door and swirling around the hallway.

If you could hear yourself, or cared enough to try, you’d feel fucking embarrassed at what you’re doing – coming apart under Frankie’s touch. It’s Frankie.

The same Frankie you started an argument with one Fourth of July over which was better: ketchup or mustard; the two of you spitting insults over the striped tablecloth, obscene hand gestures being thrown up over plates of burgers.

The same Frankie who’d found out it was you who drew on the wall, and from that day on used it as leverage anytime you set a foot out of line. Used it to shut you up, anytime you so much as thought about talking back, or ratting on the boys.

You’re supposed to hate him. Ask anyone – Santi, Mal, your parents. They’ll all say the same. Like cat and dog.

And yet, here you are. Begging him not to stop, keep his hands and his mouth on you; gasping for breath when he eventually lifts away from you and you collapse back into the bed.

You glance down from under heavy lids, watching as he kisses your thighs again, slowly bringing you back to the room. His chin’s glistening, covered in your cum, beard soaked in you.

You slowly sit up, holding yourself steady with two palms pushed into the mattress. Frankie readjusts your underwear and sits back on his heels, running a hand down his chin and wiping himself clean.

“That was…” you pant, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

He just nods, breathing heavy himself. “Yeah.”

“I gotta…I gotta let…Ange out,” you say, words swaddled by your breath.

Frankie nods again. “I should go.”

You stand at the same time, straightening up face to face. His right side is lit warmly by your bedside lamp, the brown of his eye reflecting a tiny yellow orb back at you; the left side is darker, flecks of hair lit in the pale light from the street, face dark and unreadable. Like he’s two different people, split down the middle now, a before and after.

You’re staring at one another, mapping every inch of the other’s face. Learning it, like it’s new. Like you’ve never really seen each other until right now.

And then he’s turning, picking his hat up from the floor in one swooping motion, and walking out of your bedroom. A deep sigh passes your lips as he goes, relief mixed with satisfaction. And then you follow.

Angie circles him when his boots thud down from the bottom step. He bends to give her more attention, waiting for you to softly pad down alongside him. The dog trots off toward the kitchen, and he turns to you.

He’s back to his unphased self, jaw circling around the gum that he’s still fucking chewing. “Two drinks you owe me, now, lil Santi.”

You cock your head. “Hm?”

“One for showing your ass at pool, ‘n another for that.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Morales.”

He snorts, wandering off down the hall. You spin on your heel and follow the sound of Ange scraping the back door, throwing a glance over your shoulder.

Frankie meets your eye, and like a reflex, the pair of you toss the finger to one another. He laughs, stepping out onto the porch.

“Anytime you feel like losing again, you know where I am, baby.”

----------

taglist: @serenaxpedro @bitchwitch1981 @brittmb115 @stormseyer @scarletthefierce @pattwtf @pascalpvnk @jediknightjana @mrsquill @uncassettodiricordi @gracieispunk @hellishjoel

(lmk if i’ve missed you out & check my taglist info for how to be added!)

#frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales smut #francisco morales #bbf!frankie #bbf!frankie morales #pedro pascal #pedro pascal frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #enemies to lovers #frankie morales enemies to lovers

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morallyinept · 8 months

Text

A list of all my favourite FRANCISCO MORALES Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 1

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

False God & Worship The Love - @swiftispunk Sub!Frankie

The Pilot & His Girl Series - @avastrasposts TLOU Crossover

Sex Worker Frankie Series - @prolix-yuy SexWorker!Frankie

K-Holes & Sticky Floors (Prequel To Rock Bottom) & Rock Bottom Series - @ghostofaboy Frankie x M!OFC's

My Girl - @foli-vora Featuring Dave York

Catalyst - @ezrasbirdie Featuring Joel Miller

Telltale Heart, More Sex, No Lies & Still A Video Tape - @astroboots

Just Focus On My Love - @javiscigarette

Sweet Thing - @psychedelic-ink StepBrother!Frankie

The Layover Series & Santa Fe Series - @goodwithcheese

Not A Day Too Soon & Blind Dates & One Night Stands - @criticallyacclaimedstranger

Douchebag!Frankie AU Series & F*ck You Frankie - @gracieispunk

Because Of You Series - @kteague OFC!Girasol

Frankie Series - @siriuslymooned

Rack 'Em - @macfrog BBF!Frankie

Touch Me Like You Never, Push Me Like You Never - @quinnnfabrgay-writes

Seven Minutes In Heaven & 102 - @tieronecrush

It's Always The Quiet Ones - @thot-of-khonshu

Old House & Gold Band - @moralesispunk

Fix You Series - @astoryisaloveaffair

Masterlist (Navigate to Frankie Morales Boxset) - @frannyzooey So much to choose from!

A Bumpy Road & Frankie Masterlist - @absurdthirst

The Book Of Love - @mvtthewmurdvck Bookshop AU

Morning Spice, Unwrap Me Now & The Day Frankie Came Home - @mvtthewmurdvck

Too Divine - @sageispunk

Riddles & Enigma - @wayfaringhoax

Distraction - @frenchiereading

Sing Fever To The Form - @thelightsandtheroses

Through The Scope Series - @ssuperficialspacecadett

Slow Shift - @hellishjoel LineCook!Frankie

The Fire Within Us - @flightlessangelwings Sex Pollen

Until The Sun Comes Up - @superhoeva

Bacon & Eggs - @noisynaia

Frankie Masterlist - @guess-my-next-obsession Couldn't choose just one!

Designated Person Series - @whatsnewalycat

These Hands Were Made For Worshipping You - @l0ngschl0ngking

Stood Up - @trulybetty

Feed Your Ego - @whatthefishh Featuring Santiago Garcia

Something Else Series - @pedrostylez

As Long As I Want - @fettuccin-e

Airport Pickup & Hideaway Featuring Santiago Garcia - @legendary-pink-dot

Heartbeat Part 1 & Part 2 - @floralpascal

At My Fingertips - @millerscoffee Throuple Featuring Featuring Santiago Garcia

The Run - @magpiepills Featuring Santiago Garcia

Pope The Meddler - @firsttimewriter92 Featuring Santiago Garcia

Everything I Know Leads Me Back To You Series - @peterhollandkait

Can't Shoot Whiskey - @strawhbrrries

Just A Number Series - @linzels-blog

#pedro pascal characters #fic recs #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction #pedro pascal character fics #perdo pascal character stories #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction

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pascalpvnk · 27 days

Text

march fic recs list

hello beautiful people! i’m sorry i’ve been absent recently, there’s been a lot going on behind the scenes and i haven’t had much time to be here :’) regardless, i hope everyone is well and enjoy the lineup we have for this month. fan art is now a part of the list and hopefully will expand in the months to come. thank you all for sharing your work!! and a very special happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend, pedro pascal xx (divider by @saradika-graphics)

this is also my contribution to @the-blind-assassin-12’s march fic madness 2024!! :)

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

heed all warnings according to each fic. if there's something on here that isn't your cup of tea and you don't want to read it, then scroll past. thank you!

fic rec masterlist // main masterlist // most recent fic

a * denotes smut (18+ MDNI!!)

drabbles

a little joel drabble* - @suzdin (pre/no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader) desperate old man (affectionate)* @bubble-tea-blossom (joel miller x younger!afab!reader) joel interrupting you while you're touching yourself* - @kiwisbell (joel miller x f!reader)

oneshots

Joel Miller

between two lungs* - @ozarkthedog (j.m. x afab reader x tess) amateur* - @ezrasbirdie (j.m. x f!reader) sweet days of summer* - @ozarkthedog (no-outbreak!j.m. x f!reader) i'm starving, darlin'* - @me-and-your-husband (j.m. x f!reader) wildflower and barely* - @yellowharrington (j.m. x f!afab!reader) rise - @sp00kymulderr (joel miller x afab!reader) lunch box* - @polaroidpascal (j.m. x f!reader) we shouldn't* - @alwaysmicado (fwb!j.m. x f!reader) bite my tongue* - @cherubispunk (j.m. x afab!reader) knuckles deep* - @ozarkthedog (j.m. x afab!reader) wet nights* - @shellshocklove (bfd!j.m. x f!reader)

Frankie Morales

object of my affection* - @mrsmando (bbf!f.m. x f!reader) imbued* - @morallyinept (f.m. x f!reader) dial drunk* - @schnarfer (young!f.m. x f!reader)

Javier Peña

some fools fool themselves* - @freelancearsonist (j.p. x f!reader) whatever my wife wants* - @javierpena-inatacvest (husband!j.p. x wife!reader)

Lucien Flores

this high of you & me - @kedsandtubesocks (l.f. x f!reader) like a moth to a flame - @ozarkthedog (l.f. x f!reader) mutual* - @luxurychristmaspudding (l.f. x f!reader) i was fixed on your hand of gold* - @freelancearsonist (l.f. x afab!reader)

Din Djarin

solace* - @endlessthxxghts (d.d. x afab!reader)

Arthur Morgan

some sweet ending* - @morning-star-joy (a.m. x f!reader) arthur teaches you how to ride him* - @angelltheninth (a.m. x f!reader)

series

declined* [part I*] [part II*] [part III*] - @alltheirdamn (mechanic!joel miller x afab!reader) like it's the last time* [part I*] [part II*] - @aurorawritestoescape (j.m. x afab!reader) the rite of movement* [drabble*] - @tightjeansjavi (pornstar!husband joel miller x f!pornstar!reader)

art

hypnosis - @immarocketman (javier peña) mando monday! - @knopes-waffles (din djarin)

#pascalpvnk fic recs #pascalpvnk art display #fic recs #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #frankie morales #javier peña #lucien flores #din djarin #arthur morgan

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cyborg-franky · 2 years

Note

Hello Franky! I hope your having a super day!

If I can since some of your requests and headconons are open, I was wondering about the reactions and out come of calling killer and kid (separately if you please) pet name on accident cause they were so excited to get off the boat for a but and say bye so fast that when they all realized what happen ran away and is extremely nervous coming back but is dragged by heat and wire (their bbfs and find this whole thing funny af) 🤣

Thank you for you time and keep up the great work!

I think I understood the request and I hope you enjoy it <3

Kid

Gods, it had been far too long since the ship had docked and you could feel the ground under your feet. You wanted to smell fresh unsalted air, you wanted to touch grass and sniff flowers.

You were very excited as the gangplank was lowered and you basically flew down the thing.

“Don’t fuckin’ get into trouble or some shit.” Kid barked as he watched you almost stumble in your haste for a day off the ship, wanting to eat something that wasn’t some sort of pasta combination and just enjoy the little island.

“I won't! I promise, Tulip!” the pet name had just slipped out but you didn’t even turn around to see if Kid had reacted, you could feel the killing intent as you run as fast as your legs could take you.

It had been Wire and Heat to get you to come back to the ship as the sunset. You lamented in your punishment of just calling your captain a pet name out of the blue.

He stood next to you as you gripped the rails and stared over the ocean, eyes wide as you heard him clear his throat.

“Tulip.” He began and you nodded your head, still avoiding eye contact.

“Y-yeah, sorry about that..” You said and take in a breath.

You're still alive? You haven’t been thrown off the side? You turn and face him now, there's a tinge of pink on his cheeks.

“I like that, better than shit like Spikey head, jaggy or bastard.” He said and folded his arms, you felt yourself smile.

KILLER UNDERCUT

Killer

You’d dropped everything you’d been working on when you heard the call that you’d reached land.

Dropping the plate back into the sink you’d been washing, your overwhelming urge and desire to be off this fucking boat had taken over all thinking and you just abandoned the chore.

“Where’s the rush?” Killer asked as he set down another dirty stack and you peeked your head back around the door. “I’ll finish it when I get back babycakes!” You called and ran down the hall.

The colour drained from your face when you realized what you’d just called him.

Heat and Wire had spent most of the night trying to find you, seeing you hiding in a tavern before dragging you back.

With your tail between your legs, you entered the kitchen and saw Killer sitting there reading through his recipe book Pasta and pasta adjacent dishes when he looked up at you.

“Okay, so sorry about running away from my chores.” You said and slowly pulled the chair across from him out.

“And sorry about the ah.. Pet name..” You said and itched your arm, it was hard to face him, literally, that helmet gave nothing away.

“It’s alright.” He replied and flipped another page. “So I got garlic while shopping today and was thinking it might be a nice addition tonight.”

“You, really aren’t mad?”

“Why would I? That was a cute name, I feel precious.” He said and gave a thumbs up.

You had no idea if he was fucking with you.

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ruinedbylanadelrey · 8 months

Text

Trying

bbf!Frankie Morales x F!Reader ficlet

playlist

masterlist

based off 'this is me trying' by taylor swift. summary: Family friend Frankie Morales coming home for good gets the news of the death of his childhood and military best friend. He sees how broken the girl who he always thought as a little sister and tries to bring her back to herself.

wc: 4.5K

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, brother's best friend, OC BROTHER, talk about addiction and suicide, mention of killing in the military, alcohol, drugs, survivor guilt!, sibling loss, grief, reader calls Frankie 'Frank' a lot, mutual pining, mention of disordered eating due to alcohol, vomit, a lot of crying, PTSD, angst if you squint, hurt/comfort, kissing, smut, mental health decline due to grief, frankie becoming a real man, parents, quiet love

The Morales family was your family's first friend when your parents moved out to the suburbs of Florida. You were just born and your big brother, Ethan was merely 3 years old. Frankie met his best friend at a young age. You were always around them, playing soldiers or playing on the gaming console. Frankie was always the one to make sure you were involved since it was just you and your brother. His kindness made you develop a crush on him.

Your parents thought it was cute that you had a crush on Frankie, it just showed how well his parents raised him. As you got older, the crush became something more but you would deny ever having a crush on him because he was another brother to you. Always so bad at lying.

You fell hard for Frankie when he showed up to your graduation with your brother since they had joined the military together.

"It wouldn't be fair if I didn't show up to yours since you showed up to mine, bebita" Frankie jokes while you sit in the backyard together looking at the stars hiding away from your family at your graduation party.

"I think I wouldn't be able to survive today if you weren't here, Frank," You laughed and rested your head on his shoulder.

"Can I ask you for a favor?" You ask, Frankie looks at you and nods.

"Keep Ethan alive and yourself too," Your words rattled in his brain every single day of deployment.

Frankie felt his heart try to crawl out of his chest when you looked at him that night. He had to keep his promise. He didn't want to let you down, he kept wondering why was he doing this. He kept such a big promise that could blow up in his face. He wanted nothing more than to keep you smiling and not worrying about what goes on when they leave the country again. When Frankie left your life once again.

You wrote letters to Ethan and Frankie, but letters stopped returning when your brother was medically discharged and Frankie was in the Delta force. You felt relieved that your brother was home but still filled with anxiety not ever hearing from Frankie. His parents seemed fine and content with hearing so little from Frankie. They knew that on a random Wednesday night, Frankie would call and ask to hear about home. Hearing about Ethan is once again in rehab in the psych ward. You graduated college and now working for a large marketing company and you still haven't found a husband. Always the dramatics with them.

A couple more years of radio silence gets interrupted when Ethan takes his life. You moved back home with your parents. Frankie comes home for the final time and he's there to stay. Your family and you shut out the world for months, trying to process the death of a son, of a brother. You were completely torn apart and had nothing left in you. Nearing 30 and having to be the adult while your parents grieve over the loss of their firstborn. Your emotions are being pushed aside.

The silence was officially over when you walked out of the liquor store with a bottle of whiskey and almost dropped it when you bumped into a man entering the store.

"I'm so sorry-Frank?" Your blood ran cold and your body froze when Frankie's gaze met yours. His hair is grown out, facial hair all over but patchy in some spots, the beard graying at his sideburns but his hair still a dark brown curling over his beloved cap.

"Bebita!" Frankie shakes his head and does a double-take.

"How are-"

"Ethan is dead,"

"you?" Your and Frankie's words overlap and both of you stop talking for a second.

Frankie felt the wind knocked out of him as he stared at you. Your eyes are just dead and not sparkling like they usually are. Your face breaking out from not caring about self-care, your hair thrown up in a ponytail, your cheeks a bit hallow, heavy under eye bags from crying and not sleeping. Grief has become you. You feel like you walk around with half of your identity gone. A part of you is dead.

"I-I'm sorry for your loss," Frankie comes to and could feel the tears threatening to escape his eyes. You saw how the news broke him, the change in his face, his eyes fell dull. You thought you drained the life out of him. Guilty. Plaguing everyone you talk to.

"Frank...don't shut down like that," You touch his arm, both of you still standing in the doorway.

"You lost him too," you sniffled not realizing you had been crying since the moment you looked into Frankie's eyes. He drops his head down and quickly wipes his tears with the sleeve of that tan jacket he's had forever.

"How did he?"

"Overdosed...purposely," You said it like it was so normal, always trying to stay strong even around those whom you can be vulnerable with.

A deep 'excuse me' comes up behind you, Frankie takes your hand and pulls out of the liquor store and to his truck. A swing of the passenger door and Frankie helps you into the cab of the truck. He quickly runs to the driver's side and gets in.

You could hear Frankie breathing heavily and deeply. You watched him fist the steering wheel and a sob breaks from his lips. You slide along the bench and softly rub his back.

"I should be the one comforting you, bebita," Frankie leans back and takes your hand off of him, intertwining your fingers with his. Your heart rate kicked up, something you haven't felt in years since the last time you saw Frankie.

"Frank, he's childhood best friend, a family friend, you grew up with him, don't minimize your relationship with him-"

"I failed you..."

Frankie cuts you off, your forehead scrunched in confusion and you look at him.

"I tried so hard to keep him from ever doing drugs...I tried so hard but what's fucked up is that he only started because he found my stash of coke...I tried!" Frankie wanted the earth to swallow him whole. You knew what was happening overseas Ethan didn't sugarcoat anything when he would tell you things.

You know of the people he's killed, that Frankie has killed, how drugs were quite accessible in other countries.

"Frank...his addiction was not your fault. Not his fault either." You never saw Ethan as his addiction, you always looked at him like the little boy you grew up with.

You were the only person who didn't blame his addiction for the way he led his life. You were always there to get him to help, going through the many detoxes, the many nights of him doped out and pissing himself, but it drained you, you can only help so much. That is the harsh truth, you can only help those who want the help to get clean and stay clean.

"I was stupid and in my 20s thinking, I could stop anytime...I did but he kept going..." Frankie continued to spit out whatever came to his mind. Not thinking about what came out of his mouth.

"You asked me to do one thing...to keep Ethan and myself alive..." Frankie could still your words from that night. You remembered what he was talking about, your heart fluttered at the fact that he did keep his word. Frankie did it just for you.

"That was selfish for me to ask...life doesn't like to play in anyone's favor," You laughed at how naive you used to be. How you painted Frankie as this strong and self-assured military man, your soldier, the knight in shining armor.

"It wasn't selfish," Frankie tucks the piece of hair that refused to join the ponytail. You wanted to melt into his touch, how his touch feels different. It was charged. Magnetic to your skin.

"You should hate me..." Frankie's voice cracks, You never thought you see the day that Frankie cries. He was always so stoic.

"I don't. No one does. Because it's not your fault." Your tone made Frankie tense up, your honeyed voice was turned to ice. You didn't want someone else to feel any guilt. You already take on so much of it, you might as well take it all on. Frankie cleared his throat and saw how your eyes were still soft.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Frank...come by the house tomorrow...I miss you," You softly whisper, you wrapped your arms around his right arm and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt his head nod in response. You sat up and kissed the tears staining Frankie's cheek. His body shudders when your lips graze his skin.

"Noon, I'll make us lunch and we can talk with my parents." You forced a smile while you gathered your purse and the whiskey bottle for the night.

You drove home and thought you were selfish for grieving in front of Frankie who just got the news about the person who truly knew who he was. You parked the car in the driveway that getting overcrowded by the weeds that Ethan has taken care of since your father has gotten older with you.

Another thing to add to the list of many things you have to do before moving back to the city, get a landscaper. You reached for the bottle and opened it. You bring the whiskey to your lips and let the burning amber liquid sit on your tongue before you open the door and spit it out on the asphalt then bile comes up and burns your throat. Your nose running from crying and vomiting all over the ground like you were 8 years old again and getting extreme motion sickness.

You walk into the tomb of your childhood and the living room TV playing some infomercial, your parents still having cable whilst having almost every streaming service. Your mom is asleep on the recliner seat of the couch, your father in his big recliner that was the perfect size for him,

You would always sit in it with Ethan on Saturday mornings watching cartoons and eating the bowl of Lucky Charms that opened poorly and you both know your mom is going scold for opening the box of cereal wrong. Working as a team to get the bowls down from the cabinets and helping to pour the milk so it doesn't spill all over the countertops.

You search for the remote and click off the TV then walk to your old bedroom that only had a full-size bed, walls decorated with movie posters, pictures of friends, and your old vanity mirror that had a Polaroid of you standing between Frankie and Ethan at your graduation. You picked the picture to study it again for the thousandth time.

Frankie and Ethan dressed in their ceremony uniforms, you remembered your breathing taken away seeing Frankie in uniform for the first time, thinking 'It's true, everyone loves a man in uniform'. You felt your face twitch noticing how you were smiling at how Frankie's clean-shaven look was the awkward stage he never went through as a teenager.

The smile on his face was everything, just a smirk curling up the left side of his face. You thought it was so boyish and charming. You sat the picture down and went to the bathroom to wash out your mouth before falling asleep. A dreamless sleep beside flashes of memories of you and Ethan as little kids. The flashbacks are always when you are both kids never as teenagers or young adults.

You wake up with your heart racing, shot up in bed with your hand on your chest panicking more over the fast heartbeat. You glanced at your phone and it was 6 am. You're wide awake and you can hear your father's snore downstairs. The door to your room is pushed wide open and your eyes land on the furball of a culprit.

Ethan's cat 'Prince', because Ethan said he is royalty and should be treated as such. The cat sits at the foot of your bed with a mouse made from an old army shirt that Ethan wore all the time you special ordered for the cat because of how sick he got when Ethan passed away. You thought if you could help a cat process grief you could forget about yours. Always running from it, but grief and love to loom around corners you don't turn down often.

The cat drops the mouse for you on the bed and walks out of the bedroom. He thinks you can't feed yourself. You laughed in your head but started to think about the last meal you ate that wasn't on a drunken binged that would puke out your guts an hour later. You stuff towels at the bottom of the door to muffle your cries and gags. Stuffing the towels at the bottom of the door that isn't to keep the smoke from weed you had in high school.

You get out of bed and go down to the kitchen to feed Prince. As you prepared his lavish breakfast your body and mind were instantly drained. You needed to shower and start to clean this house before Frankie arrived, that meant getting my parents up and about. You had no energy to do anything for yourself, if it's not for Ethan why even do it?

You sat in bed and stared at the ceiling for an hour before you started cleaning up the whole house as if Frankie was going to be in every single room. Your parents left for the store to buy lunch and dinner for the weekend at 10 AM meaning they won't be back until 11. Your sweat drips down your forehead and goes into your eyes making them sting. Your ears roar with blood rushing to your head, clenching your jaw and not breathing.

Your fingernails were bleeding while you scrubbed the bathroom sink. You yelp as the cleaning product gets between your nails, and you scold yourself for not putting on the rubber gloves. You started to cough when you took too deep of breath. Quickly turning on the water to wash away the cleaner from the sink and your skin. The tips of your fingers slightly burned, you could feel the tenderness.

A small fit of laughter came from the hallway, you wiped your hands on the sweats you had put on to clean in. You entered the living room and saw Frankie sitting with your parents in the dining room adjacent. You gazed at the clock on the cable box, at 12:15 p.m. Did you blackout while cleaning?

"Mama, Frankie is here..." Your mother sees you with bloodshot eyes and sweating all over your face and body. Frankie turns around in his chair and looks at the mess you become. You could feel your face get even hotter as he gave you his stupid smile but it was strained a bit maybe forced.

Frankie looked at you and saw how wrecked you were. His heart could feel tendrils of the beating muscle tear apart when he finally saw you completely exposed by emotion.

"I'll be back, I need to clean up," You mumbled wiping away the sweat mix with tears off your face and heading to the shower. Turning it all the way to icy cold water comes out, and chilling your entire body. You looked up at the running water practically washing your eyes out.

You pull yourself away from the shower and put yourself back together. You walked back downstairs in shorts and an oversized sweatshirt, your hair wet and pulled back into a ponytail. Frankie saw how fresh-faced you looked. He could still your baby face in your drained adult face. Your eyes are still always so wide and big making him swim in the chocolate waves. You took a seat across from Frankie while your parents rambled on about what they were making for lunch. You adverted your gaze from Frankie. You were embarrassed about how he's seen your grief.

"I showed up and no one answered the door, I went around back and saw that the backdoor was wide open and the cat was meowing. I was worried that something happened to you. I followed the damn cat and saw you heaving over the bathroom sink. I called your name several times. Your parents came home and they were happy to see me and I lied to them and said you let me in while you finished cleaning,"

Frankie whispers after he turns to look to see if your parents were out of earshot. Frankie reached across the table to hold your hand. But you flinched as your tender fingers touched his calloused hands. You winced while he examined your hand.

"I blackout too when I start a task. End up always overdoing it." Frankie says, softly holding your hand, trying to somehow heal you, skin to skin. You nodded not knowing what to say because you don't trust your voice to sound like you've been crying. "I'm trying to pick up everything and put it back together," You cleared your voice still laced with uneven breaths.

Lunch was served with a Long Island iced tea and talking about Ethan. Laughing with tears in your eyes. Your parents retire to their bedroom not hungry enough for dinner, just proud that they ate at least lunch. You and Frankie went to your bedroom, he loved how it was still set in the past with a mix of your office set up to work from home. "I never thought I would ever be allowed in here," Frankie said picking up a stack of CDs from the 90s and a mix of early 2000s.

You giggled thinking back on how the 'no boys allowed' sign made a big impression on Frankie.

"You are an exception," You continued to watch Frankie look at your room, he made note of the different movie posters and even an HBO show poster, 'Band of Brothers' Ethan's favorite show.

"Has that always been the case, Bebita?" Frankie smirks at you, moving the bed and sliding next to you. The tension in the air hit the air when you could feel Frankie's body heat radiating off his body. The sun was just setting and the natural light hit the light pink walls giving the room a romantic hue.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him.

"I know you used to have a crush on me,"

"Jesus Frank-"

"I thought it was adorable." Frankie chuckles, sitting up against the headboard to wrap his arms around you. The feeling of his sturdy body against yours made your skin hot and break out in goosebumps.

"I thought you were cute but you know best friend's sister is off limits," Frankie sighed, thinking about when you entered high school and he was just barely a junior. You grew up overnight to him. You started to really put time into your appearance. To Frankie, you just highlighted your beauty. But Ethan told Frankie when they started middle school that his sister was off limits.

But now here you are both adults, both have jobs, and both secretly in love with each other. Was the rule only when you were all horny teenagers?

"Are you saying you had a crush on me too, Frankie?" When his name fell off your lips it made him forget the looming grief over the both of you.

"Never stopped," Frankie was being bold, life is too short to not say anything after years of wasting time. You looked up at Frankie and couldn't believe anything he was saying. Was it just to make you feel better since you know your brother is dead?

"Nooo...that's not true Frank," Deny, deny, deny. How could he ever love you? There's nothing left in you anymore.

"Bebita, why do you think I stuck up for you when we were kids? Because I needed to protect you and care for you because I've loved you for a long time," Frankie cups your face, and his thumb runs across your bottom lip. You swear you were on cloud 9, the warmth of your love for him and his love for you radiating through the lightest touch.

"Frank I think that you have been feeling a lot of emotions the past day. I'll let you say whatever you want and not hold it against you." You wanted to believe him. You know he's being truthful.

"I meant what I said, I want us to try, try to be there for each other," Frankie rests his forehead against yours, his finger brushing through your hair. It was nice to be held. Especially with Frankie.

"I'm trying," You sobbed out, fisting Frankies t-shirt and pulling him closer to your body. His words opened the floodgates and you couldn't stop the tears overflowing from the waterline. Frankie lays down holds your head to his chest and lets you cry.

Frankie came to your house every single after that. He started to do yard work with your father, you would bring something to drink and eat. The funeral happened after months of arguing with the VA about where Ethan could lay to rest. Your parents wanted him at the family plot but the VA said he had to be buried at the fort, that it was clearly stated in his will when he joined the army, so everything would be simple and easy, and not anyone would spend a dime but the government it's money.

Your parents started to go back to their normal lives enjoying retirement. You and Frankie started to see each other every Friday night, going out for dinner and getting tipsy. You would go home with him and spend the weekend at his apartment, enjoying living without your parents walking around.

The first hookup was when he came over to work on the mow the lawn for your parents since they were going to be out of town. You had completely forgotten about Frankie coming over when you walked out the backdoor in just a thong and t-shirt letting the cat out for the day. He was opening the shed in the backyard when he heard you murmur 'Oh my god' and quickly turned on your heels and ran upstairs. Frankie blushed deeply not remembering what he was doing for a second.

You tried to pretend that Frankie didn't see you half-naked until he was at your bedroom door, rushing you and pinning you against the mattress. His lips hungrily locking with your soft lips. His mustache and beard rub against your soft skin. Tasting the lemonade you had made for him to go with his lunch.

"You're just too pretty, bebita," Frankie grunts as you bucked your hips to grind against his growing bulge. You loved how your clothed cunt rub against the denim jeans.

"Frankieeee, t-touch me, please," the sweetest whine left your lips, Frankie looks down your chest, he pushed the shirt up toward your collarbone to admire your plump perky breasts and how they swayed with each grind of your hips.

Frankie propped himself next to you and traced the outline of your body, not missing caressing your breast, and lightly tracing your nipples making them harden. You were whimpering at the teasing touch. Frankie pushes aside the thong and dips his finger down your folds to your entrance.

"So wet, is that all for me, sweetheart?" Frankie deepens his voice an octave. You nodded and bit your lips to stop yourself from moaning.

"Words, bebita" Frankie purs, you gasped as his fingers slide inside your cunt and curling them, hitting the sensitive spot that makes you see stars.

"F-fuck, yes Frankie! All for youu" You cry out as his thumb rolls your clit while fucking his finger into you, curling them every few thrusts. Your pussy clenches tightly around his digits.

"I-i'm closeee" you whimpered, Frankie lowers his head and takes in a nipple into his mouth, first licking it then sucking as hard as he could. His mouth on your body and his hands doing magic on your wet cunt.

You felt your release gush out of you and coat his hand. Your moans were coming out without any hesitation.

"Fuck me, Frankie," your hands undo his belt and going straight towards the zipper and doing the button very last. You dip under the waistband of his briefs. Your hand cups his hard cock and strokes him until he is fully hard.

Frankie rolls on top of you pushing down his jeans and underwear just enough to free himself then kicks off the rest of the jeans while you pull off his shirt. He pins your hands above your head as he thrusts into you in one go. You screamed out the pleasure that you got from the stinging stretch of his thick hard cock sliding along your velvet walls. Frankie moans in your ears as he drops his head in the crook of your neck, enjoying how wet and warm you feel around him. Taking him so perfectly.

"You feel so good, babyy," Frankie bottoms out and grinds into you, his cock hitting your cervix.

"So big, Frankie, fuck you feel so fucking good," You gritted through your teeth when Frankie bends you in half and drilling into your aching pussy.

"I-I need you! I need you!" Frankie chants, and you could see the tears falling down his face, and you couldn't help but cry yourself. You wanted Frankie to feel whole. He's always been the one. Took care of you when you hit rock bottom with grief. He helped bathe you and helped you brush your teeth and brushed your hair when you dried your hair. Getting you dressed every day.

You didn't put up a fight. You needed him. He needs you. You're falling in love.

"I'm yours! Ah-all yours, Frank," You grunted as his harsh thrust became harder when you proclaimed that you are his. You fell into the pillowy high of orgasm number 2.

"All mine, and I am yours, amor" Frankie moans as he flips you on your stomach, hiking your hips just enough for his cock to fuck your aching hole.

"I love you, Frankie!" You cry out as another wave of bliss warms your body down to your toes.

"I love you, bebita!" Frankie gives the same passion back, while he paints your walls with his load. Your eyes rolled back from being so full with his cock and his cum dripping out of you and making your thighs sticky.

You both lay there, touching each other, exploring each other bodies. Years of messing around to make up for. Allowing grief to bring you to your person. You can't be mad anymore because now to you life is worth living again. Frankie had the world around you make sense again.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fluff #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x f!reader #pedro pascal #frankie morales hurt

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360iris · 1 year

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Older brother!Santi and m/c abt BBF!Frankie shdhdh

#older brother!santi #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #triple frontier #brother’s best friend!frankie morales #frankie catfish morales

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trulybetty · 8 months

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Sunday | Week In Review III

Sunday Week In Review III.

What a week it has been - I’ve read some great updates to some really good fanfics this week (and some I still need to reblog to the dash) and I’ve been in my mother effing Joel Miller feels - but Frankie seems to be helping 😏

Hope everyone had a good week! I’d love to hear what you enjoyed this week and if you have your own week in review you want to share that I can link here!

Side note: who was writing, or planning to write, something involving ex-Frankie on the beach? It popped into my head this morning and has not left me and no search I've done has yielded anything to the point now I think I'm making it up lol.

Disclaimer: did not get into any of my TBR fics, everything I read this week were updates to established starters or one-shots.

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

Strings IV Mood board

Bookstore (Frankie x f!Reader)

Drip (Joel Miller x Reader) warning: hints at events of TLOU2

Hangar (Frankie x f!Reader)

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

The Locksmith Series by @oonajaeadira I wasn’t entirely sure what I was getting into reading a series based on the The Thief from the Casillero del Diablo adverts. But this was a whole lot more than I expected and was such a great read. I don’t want to spoil too much, but it has just the perfect combination of magic, romance, tension and plot. This was a very enjoyable lazy Sunday morning read.

Delta Landscaping - Chapter 2 + 3 by @rhoorl okay, chapter 2? Was not expecting to be getting so teary eyed in the first half and then snorting with laughter in the second. Then the bonus of a THIRD chapter before the week was out? Jess is spoiling us with the events of Mulefall Court 🫏. I don’t want to spoil chapter 3, but it is a riot and I am eagerly waiting to find out what happens next!

The Layover - Chapter 11 by @goodwithcheese I’m in denial that there’s one chapter and an epilogue left on this. However, trust me when I say this series will lend itself to a reread once it’s done! Frankie and Reader are in some feels in this chapter and have some stuff to work through. But as ever Jules BBF extraordinaire and “get you laid” fairy godmother comes in with some wise words ♥️

Hungry Hearts - Chapter 5 by @atinylittlepain This is a permanent entry on my fics read/recommended list forever - I could wax lyrical about how Joel Miller is Springsteen coded. However, things are coming to a head here both in the summer of 86’ and in present day for Cherry and Joel. I think we’re in for a bumpy ride with the next updates but I’m looking forward to seeing how it plays out! You won’t be disappointed.

Late Night Texts - Chapter 11 by @mvtthewmurdvck I had my worries about Javi & Reader as I made my way through this chapter and if this was a live action rom-com this would be the part where you shout at the TV because the happily ever after is just right there in sight only for it to be swiped away. But all is not lost because… I’m not going to give it away, go and read!

Bloom by @nothoughtsjustmeds I very much dislike flowers, each to their own, but I simply don’t get the appeal. I appreciate them at a distance and think they’re pretty, but that’s where it ends for me. However, give me a flower shop trope and I am all over it will devour them all! (don't know what this says about me, lol) This one is no different and was actually a re-read when it popped up on my dash! Joel Miller is late, it’s Mother’s Day and he’s showing up in Readers store two minutes to closing in need of help and the rest… well, I’ll let you read it because it’s such a delight.

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #11: Daniel Harper (Wing Pit) - A Kiss After Pain by @something-tofightfor Look. I’m not afraid to admit it, I’m feral for Daniel ‘Wing Pit’ Harper, and it’s because of @something-tofightfor’s fics. Go and read them and you’ll see what I mean. While you’re there go check out their Summer Kiss Prompt’s.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: All of You, All of Me by @wyn-n-tonic If you haven’t read the series this wraps up, I suggest you do! Like, I could word vomit on this fic for days. However, this one-shot gives Joel & reader a tender ending that while it doesn’t fix everything, it gives life to a future for them both without guilt of the origins of their relationship. This was an unexpected treat on my dash this week and I encourage you to take a moment to read this series of you haven’t.

Two Chances by @mrsquill A Joel Miller x Reader AU that has puppies, Joel and Sarah dynamics and did I mention puppies? It’s an adorable fluff piece that I hope we get to see a follow-up to!

Conversations With a Movie Star | Chapter 2 by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Hands down one of the best written Dieter's in my opinion and on top of that this is such an original idea of a story. Ava and Dieter play so well off one another and I can't wait to see how this is all going to play out. Also, I already love Desi and Lucy ❤️🦝

Fall Apart, Again | Chapter 3 by @wildemaven Okay, while on the topic of unique story ideas... this one right here! This, eurgh, I want to wrap this story in a blanket and give it a massive hug and tell it it'll be all okay. No secret I love me some good angsty fics, but there's a thin line you have to tread before it can dissolve into either a comedy of errors or just downright depressive verbage but Heidi, *chef's kiss* hits all the right notes with this story. Not going to get into much more as it is owed a reblog later today - but you cannot not get invested from the opening chapter.

March by @the-widow-miller I wasn't the only one this week in my Joel Miller feels - we both ended up posting our TLOU2 fics within days of one another and this one, eurgh, the whole thing cutting between present time and flashback and the ending? I'll let you get into this and get down deep in your Golfing feels.

Palomino | IX Warmblood by @fuckyeahdindjarin Going to admit it here, I am afraid of horses, I don't like them I think they're going to bite my hand off and yeah, so so pretty. But they frighten me. HOWEVER, this entire series has me wanting to go book a trek with the Statesmen, not only for my own Whiskey - but to witness the beautiful landscapes Cee has painted and weaved through this entire story. I also like how this ended, I'm not going to get into it because I don't want to spoil it - but if you've not read this series, you are in for a real treat!

Fics I’m Looking Forward to Reading…

Pulling from the gazillion tabs I have open that I need to move to a more formalized list that I’ll share next week if I get it done!

Shared Breaths by @frenchiereading So single dad Frankie is enrolling his daughter in your class and as the school year moves forward so does your relationship with Frankie…

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

This Dave York character analysis thread, some interesting takes on his character and how he’s portrayed in both the film and fandom.

@rhoorl's dive into the Vanity Plates of the Delta Boys, it had me howling! Also peep the post on what cars each of the boys drive while you're there too!

Things I’ve (NOT) Enjoyed This Week…

My great idea to watch a play through of the second TLOU game (not posting spoilers) and play it while I worked. I’m an idiot. A highly emotional idiot. Also going to take @gnpwdrnwhiskey's advice to re-read the first two chapters of @oonajaeadira's Leave off Your Wandering to satisfy the head-canon I have that TLOU2 is all about Joel going to live his best life on an alpaca farm.

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

All the lovely feedback I got on my dive into the Catfish pond with my Frankie fics that I was actually afraid to post, it's actually been a little overwhelming. Also the feedback on Drip, despite pulling everyone down onto the floor in my Joel Miller feels lol. Thank you all for your reblogs, comments & likes - it really means a lot ❤️

This Week’s Song…

This week it’s an album, Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska - @atinylittlepain mentioned this book, Deliver Me from Nowhere: The Making of Bruce Springsteen's Nebraska (which I can’t wait to get stuck into) and so I’ve been listening to this album on repeat since.

It’s one of those albums that sticks out at from a time when I was younger where I was figuring out what I liked and not being afraid of offending others with my choices or worrying that they weren't what everyone else liked.

Other Weeks in Review I Think You Should Check Out...

@rhoorl's Week In Review (8/27/23)

If you've made it this far! Feel free to share your own recommendations or favourite things that have happened this week or what you've enjoyed! 💕

#betty's sunday in review #Spotify

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rpmtrish · 11 months

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JUNE 2023 ISSUE OF RPM MAG RELEASED

Check out the Full June 2023 Issue of RPM Magazine TODAY! Subscribe to RPM Magazine to get the magazine monthly in your inbox! MAIN FEATURE YOUNG GUN - Frankie Doldo pilots this big cube, nitrous-injected 3rd-Gen Camaro. For Frankie Doldo, his interest started early and, given his bloodline, there was little doubt that it would grow and develop into driving a badass Outlaw 3rd Gen Camaro with just shy of 900 cubic inches and 4 stages of nitrous oxide! FEATURES BIRDKLR - When Mike Cataline runs, it isn’t your average pass, he likes to add a bit of show with his go and it’s not uncommon to see the Stang wheelstand on its way down the quarter mile. Mike is retired U.S. Navy and is also a diehard Ford guy, so you can bet there’s no LS swap here. The Coupe came to Mike equipped with a 306 small block backed by a C6 Trans which didn't stay in place for long. BBF - BIG BLOCK FUN - Shaun Martin’s 1966 Ford Mustang drag car is rare, not just because it is a 1965 OEM body that has somehow survived almost 60 years, but what makes it really rare is what it is not. It’s not a Fox Body, not a small block or LS and it’s not boosted. Instead, what we have here is a Ford big block powered, nitrous injected 1966 Mustang Musclecar that has more than enough muscle to get the job done. MACK DADDY is the name! Jeremy always thought of having a hood ornament on a truck but was never brave enough to do it. His wife Maegan surprised him with a real metal bulldog from a Mack truck dealership, and that’s how this Sierra got its name, fitting for a beast of such bulky proportions yet capable of inflicting some serious damage on opponents. TECH INSIDER ALUMINUM ALLOYS FOR RACING APPLICATIONS - Everything you want to know about Aluminum Alloys, but didn't know to ask. by Vince Roman - Burns Stainless Aluminum is widely used in racing to make everything from radiators to pistons to intake manifolds (However, we would never recommend aluminum for exhaust systems!). The properties of aluminum that make it so attractive to racers include light weight, strength, fabricability and corrosion resistance. Aluminum is approximately 1/3 the weight of steel, yet some aluminum alloys exhibit tensile strengths greater than some low carbon steels. HIDDEN GEMS STILL THE ONE - John Caruso's 1961 Corvette Convertible. Without a doubt, the gorgeous custom mixed House of Kolors Candy Purple paint job with pearl white, fuchsia, and grey graphics is one of the first things most folks notice about John Caruso’s ‘vette. (from July 2014) Read the full article

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jmsa1287 · 4 years

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'Grace and Frankie' Season 6 — Rinse, Recycle, Repeat

a new season of “Grace and Frankie” is here...yay?

"Grace and Frankie" is heading towards its finale with Netflix recently announcing that the beloved sitcom would end with its seventh season sometime next year. Since its 2015 debut, the series has been a showcase for its stars Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin, who play BBFs Grace and Frankie, respectively. With the end in sight, the comedy officially becomes Netflix's longest-running show with 94 episodes — but, as the sixth season proves, the streaming service should have ended "Grace and Frankie" a few seasons ago. Though Season 6, which is now on Netflix, is slightly more enjoyable and genuinely funny than its past seasons, "Grace and Frankie" has officially run out of steam. In the new 13-episode installment, the show recycles plots and family dynamics that we've seen before. After suddenly tying the knot with Nick (Peter Gallagher), Grace is moving out of the beach house she shared with Frankie these past few years, leaving both women to adjust to their new homes and new roles as friends with a buffer zone. With Grace now living with Nick, Frankie is left alone; this is slightly concerning considering it wasn't that long ago that the duo was placed in assisted living — that is until they broke out and demanded to live on their own despite their ailments. Those health issues pop up again in Season 6 with Grace's back problem and Frankie's loss of hearing; both playing pivotal moments in this season as Grace learns to live with her new husband and Frankie begins dating someone new, played by Michael McKean.

But the BFFs are determined to stick with each other and decide to invent a new product as an excuse to spend time together. With the success of their sex toys and lube for seniors, Grace and Frankie plan to stay to the same market, using Grace's difficulty with getting up off the toilet as their inspiration. The women, along with Joan-Margaret (Millicent Martin), create the Rise Up toilet — a commode that launches folks with back problems off itself, thanks to a spring-loaded seat. "Grace and Frankie" proves to be less interesting when it focuses on its other characters like ex-husbands-turned-lovers Rob (Martin Sheen) and Sol (Sam Waterston). This time around, the men aren't bickering about the local queer theatre company (at first...) but face a health scare. The show follows the men coming to terms with the news, bumping up against each other but ultimately coming together over a joint decision. Later on in the season, that pesky theatre causes yet again another rift in the husbands' relationship. For the adult children featured on the comedy, the only one worth mentioning is Brianna (played by June Diane Raphael, the only other actor besides Fonda and Tomlin too good for the show she's in). In Season 6, she and her longtime boyfriend Barry (Peter Cambor), have agreed to use his sperm so his friend and her partner can have a baby. It's one of the few genuinely funny plots in the history of series, which apexes at a hotel that happens to be hosting Comic-Con. Divulging more would take away from its hilarity.

Over the last five years, "Grace and Frankie" has turned out hours and hours of harmless entertainment that many have found enjoyable; there's a reason why it is set to become Netflix's longest-running TV show. But the comedy has always been a frustrating watch given the talent involved and its potential to take on interesting issues in the same way "The Golden Girls" did 30 years ago. Episodes of that sitcom, which is in syndication and can be streamed via Hulu, still resonates today. Fonda is making headlines in real life for her activism against climate change, getting arrested along with a number of celebrities, including her costars Sheen and Tomlin. The news stories of the stars are far more interesting than most of the storylines the writers of "Grace and Frankie" have turned out. Instead, we get tired dynamics that we've seen in the past on this show (not to mention other sitcoms) that are exhausting and forgettable. There is something promising that comes at the end of Season 6 that sets up an interesting final season. But that will not be spoiled here. Clearly, "Grace and Frankie" has found its audience and those have latched on to the show's message of friendship and the passage of time; getting older is hard but it is easier with a friend. There are worse ways to spend your TV time than watching "Grace and Frankie," but it remains a shame that the show continues again and again to take any sort of major risk.

#tv #netflix #grace and frankie #jane fonda #lily tomlin #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbt tv #Michael McKean #June Diane Raphael

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banditasdelamor · 7 years

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Srta. Trueno Negro:

Es una banda de La Plata, son cinco chicxs (Natalia Trueno Negro, La Flaquita,Tio Peta, BBF y Iván) tienen cuatro discos (Srta. Trueno Negro, En vivo en la Hoguera Polenta, Sonido Donosti y Directo) y dos ep (¿Qué quieras que te diga? y Misterios de la Plata) con canciones muy hermosas y bailables.

Frankie Cosmos:

Es una banda de dos chicas (Greta Kline y Lauren Martin) y dos pibes (David Maine y Luke Pyenson) de Nueva York. Tiene varios discos, el último material que saco es Close It Quitly con canciones hermosas.

Valeria del Mar:

Es un dúo de dos chicas (Valeria Soler y Ana Alvarez) de Mar del Plata. Tienen un disco, Plástico con canciones muy relax ideal para escuchar mientras miras el mar.

Plástico by Valeria del Mar

#banditasdelamor #srta.truenonegro #laplata #frankiecosmos #newyork #valeriadelmar #mardelplata #music

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macfrog · 7 months

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im begging for more details on “rack em” i cant stop re-reading it. i hope there’s more you’ll share 🫶🏼

oh hiiii one of my lil frankie babies i love u guys so much

rack 'em was so much fun to write and i have so many little ideas for follow-up chapters jotted down. bbf!frankie's return is inevitable, but the question of when is a little harder to pinpoint

simply put: between life stuff + fic stuff, i am just a little swamped and haven't gotten around to frankie for a bit. but i promise he'll be back! he is a lot of fun to write. i am a big fan of writing enemies to lovers, and he's great respite from the angst that joel fuckin miller puts me thru every time i write him (lovingly)

thank u so much for reading and i'm sorry it's taking a bit of time 💙

#chats w max #anon #bbf!frankie

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morallyinept · 6 months

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A list of all my favourite FRANCISCO MORALES Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.

PART 4

Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤

⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.

Bitter Ends Turn Sweet In Time - @littlemisspascal

Frankie Masterlist - @say-al0e Includes the TF Boys

Home - @burntheedges

Hungry - @criticallyacclaimedstranger

It's The Sniffles - @undercoverpena

Hideaway - @legendary-pink-dot Featuring Santiago Garcia

Heaven And Back - @joelmillers-whore

Flying High Series - @amanitacowboy

Things He'd Say To You - @beabliss

First Date - @daddy-dins-girl

Unusual Love(ers) - @toomanystoriessolittletime

Push & Shove - @ozarkthedog Featuring Santiago Garcia

A Soft Place To Land - @guess-my-next-obsession

Hinterland - @legendary-pink-dot

This Charming Man - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin Dark!Frankie

Three's Company Part 1 & Part 2 - @wardenparker Cowritten with @absurdthirst Featuring Joel Miller

Into The Beat Of The Night Series - @perotovar NonBinary AFAB Reader

Six & A Half Minutes Frankie's Version - @avastrasposts

Sub!Frankie & Bondage - @swiftispunk

Get On The Floor - @lovesbiggerthanpride

Homecoming - @mrsmando

Sweet, Sweet Fantasy Series - @quinnnfabrgay-writes

Euclidean Geometry - @leslie-lyman Featuring Pero Tovar & Agent Whiskey

Breaking Free - @theewokingdead PlusSize!Reader

That Time Frankie Morales Was Your Cookie Bitch - @connectioneverywhere

Shared Breaths Series - @frenchiereading

Smutsgiving 2023 - Mashed Potatoes - @something-tofightfor Featuring Santiago Garcia

My Way - @goodwithcheese

Nothing That I Didn't Know Series - @for-a-longlongtime Featuring Santiago Garcia MMF

Sweet Treat - @mrsmando PlusSizeF!Reader

Object Of My Affection - @mrsmando BBF!Frankie

Thanksgiving With Frankie Morales - @pedroshotwifey

Good For You - @onmysluttyknees

Cravings - @pedge-page

Are We Out Of The Woods Series - @jksprincess10

Candy Cane - @cerridwen007

Best Friend's Dad Series - thisishellfire (deactivated - found through a reblog) DBF!Frankie

Let's Get Lost Series - @thelightsandtheroses

Via-a-Vis - @hier--soir

Tender Is The Night - @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

Cold, biting - @undercoverpena

Coming Under The Christmas Tree - @undercoverpena

Dancing Is A Dangerous Game - @noxturnalpascal Stripper!Reader

Two Minutes - @agentmarcuspike Dominatrix!Reader

On The Waterfront Series - @beefrobeefcal Dark!Frankie

Sky Drabbles Series - @frenchiereading

Tonight You Belong To Me Series - @intheorangebedroom

Frankie's Barber Shop - @themand0lorian

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decanting-cerebral · 7 years

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200 + 1: The Music Of 2016

Africaine 808, Basar [Golf Channel Recordings] Africans With Mainframes [Heiroglyphic Being + Noleian Reusse], K.M.T. [Soul Jazz] Afro-Haitian Experimental Orchestra, Afro-Haitian Experimental Orchestra [Glitterbeat] Alpha 606, Afro-Cuban Electronics [Interdimensional Transmissions] Oren Ambarchi, Hubris [Editions Mego] Darcy James Argue’s Secret Society, Real Enemies [New Amsterdam] A$AP Ferg, Always Strive And Prosper [RCA] Asda, The Abyss [NoCorner] Atlantis Jazz Ensemble, Oceanic Suite [Marlow Records] Audacity, Hyper Vessels [Suicide Squeeze] Babyfeather, “BBF” Hosted By DJ Escrow [Hyperdub] Azealia Banks, Slay-Z [self-released] Kenny Barron Trio, Book Of Intuition [Impulse!] Beekman, Beekman Vol. 2 [Ropeadope] Bent Shapes, Wolves Of Want [Slumberland] Beyoncé, Lemonade [Parkwood Entertainment] Big Ups, Before A Million Universes [Exploding In Sound] BJ The Chicago Kid, In My Mind [Motown/UMG] Black Bombaim & Peter Brotzmann [Shhpuma] Black Milk & Nat Turner, The Rebellion Sessions [Computer Ugly] Carla Bley/Andy Sheppard/Steve Swallow, Andando El Tiempo [ECM] Jane Ira Bloom, Early Americans [Outline] Bombino, Azel [Partisan Records] Brookzill!, Throwback To The Future [Tommy Boy]

Danny Brown, Atrocity Exhibition [Warp] Jaimeo Brown Transcendence, Work Songs [Motema Music] Taylor Ho Bynum, Enter The PlusTet [Firehouse 12] Uri Caine Trio, Calibrated Thickness [816 Music] Will Calhoun, Celebrating Elvin Jones [Motema] Car Seat Headrest, Teens Of Denial [Matador] Causa Sui, Return to Sky [El Paraiso] Cavern of Anti-Matter, void beats/invocation trex [Duophonic] Chance The Rapper, Coloring Book [self-released] The Chicago Plan, The Chicago Plan, [Clean Feed] Chimurenga Renaissance, Girlz With Gunz [Glitterbeat] Brandy Clark, Big Day In A Small Town [Warner Bros.] The Coathangers, Nosebleed Weekend [Suicide Squeeze] Avishai Cohen, Into The Silence [ECM] Leonard Cohen, You Want It Darker [Sony] Kweku Collins, Nat Love [Closed Sessions] Frankie Cosmos, Next Thing [Bayonet Records] Andrew Cyrille Quartet, The Declaration Of Musical Independence [ECM] Damana (Dag Magnus Narvesen Octet), Cornua Copiae [Clean Feed] The Dead C, Trouble [Ba Da Bing!] Deap Vally, Femejism [Nevado Music] Death Grips, Bottomless Pit [Third Worlds] Debo Band, Ere Gobez [FPE Records] Jack DeJohnette, In Movement [ECM] Olegario Diaz, Aleph In Chromatic [SteepleChase]

Whit Dickey / Kirk Knuffke, Fierce Silence [Clean Feed] DJ Rude One, ONEderful [2RBR] Pierre Dorge & New Jungle Orchestra, Ubi Zaa [SteepleChase] Dave Douglas, Dada People [Greenleaf] Dre Hocevar, Transcendental Within The Sphere Of Indivisible Remainder [Clean Feed] Mark Dresser Seven, Sedimental You [Clean Feed] Dressy Bessy, Kingsized [Yep Roc Records] Drive-By Truckers, American Band [ATO Records] Earprint, Earprint [Endectomorph] Harris Eisenstadt, Old Growth Forest [Clean Feed] Eskimeaux, Year Of The Rabbit [Double Double Whammy] Family Atlantica, Cosmic Unity [Soundway] The Field, The Follower [Kompakt] Fire!, She Sleeps She Sleeps [Rune Grammofon] Flatbush Zombies, 3001: A Laced Odyssey [Glorious Dead Recordings] Zélia Fonseca, O Terceiro Olho da Abelha 9Yellowbird] Michael Formanek / Ensemble Kolossus, The Distance [ECM] Daniel Freedman, Imagine That [Anzic Records] Free Nelson MandoomJazz, The Organ Grinder [RareNoise] Fruit Bats, Absolute Loser [Easy Sound Recording Company] Robbie Fulks, Upland Stories [Bloodshot] Ras G, The El-Aylien Tapes [Leaving Records] Gambari Band, Kokuma [Membran Media] Giant Peach, Tarantula [Don Giovanni Records] Bob Gluck [etc], Infinite Spirit: Revisiting Music Of The Mwandishi Band [self-released]

GoGo Penguin, Man Made Object [Decca Records France] Brian Groder Trio, R Train On The D Line [Latham Records] Los Hacheros, Bambulaye [Jacob Plasse] Charlie Haden/Liberation Music Orchestra, Time/Life [Impulse!] Mary Halvorson Octet, Away With You [Firehouse 12] Handsome Family, Unseen [Loose Music] PJ Harvey, The Hope Six Demolition Project [Island] Alexander Hawkins & Evan Parker, Leaps In Leicester [Clean Feed] The Heliocentrics, From The Deep [Now-Again Records] The Fred Hersch Trio, Sunday Night At The Vanguard [Palmetto] Hinds, Leave Me Alone [Mom + Pop] Anna Högberg Attack, Anna Högberg Attack [Omlott] Homeboy Sandman, Kindness For Weakness [Stones Throw] HXLT, HXLT [Def Jam] The I Don’t Cares, Wild Stab [Dry Wood Music] Ethan Iverson, The Purity Of The Turf [Criss Cross] Jigmastas, Resurgence Resurgence [BBE] Julie Ruin, Hit Reset [Hardly Art] Ka, Honor Killed The Samurai [Iron Works] Matthew Shipp/Bobby Kapp, Cactus [Northern Spy] Kaytranada, 99.9% [XL] Allan Kingdom, Northern Lights [So Cold Records] Aly Keïta, Kalo-Yele [Intakt Records] Kel Assouf, Tikounen [Igloo Records] Alicia Keys, Here [RCA]

The Knocks, 55 [Big Beat Records] Kirk Knuffke [& Jesse Stacken], Satie [SteepleChase] Konono No. 1, Konono No. 1 Meets Batida [Crammed Discs] Kool A.D., Official [self-released] Glenn Kotche / So Percussion, Drumkit Quartets [Cantaloupe Music] Krakauer’s Ancestral Groove, Checkpoint [Table Pounding Records] Julian Lage, Arclight [Mack Avenue] La Sera, Music For Listening To Music To [Polyvinyl Record Co.] Lady Gaga, Joanne [Interscope] Kendrick Lamar, untitled unmastered [Aftermath/Interscope] Law Holt, City [Soulpunk] Okkyung Lee / Christian Marclay, Amalgam [Northern Spy] Steve Lehman/Sélébéyone, Sélébéyone [Pi] Jinx Lennon, Past Pupils Stay Sane [Septic Tiger] Jinx Lennon, Magic Bullets Of Madness To Uplift Grief Magnets [Septic Tiger] James Brandon Lewis Trio, No Filter [BNS] L’Orange & Mr Lif, Life & Death Of Scenery [Mello Music] Baaba Maal, Traveller [Knitting Factory] Luísa Maita, Fio da Memória [Cumbancha] Mantra Percussion / Michael Gordon: Timber Remixed [Cantaloupe Music] Milton Marsh, The Music Of Milton Marsh Revisited Vol. 1 [Alankara Records] Leyla McCalla, A Day For The Hunter, A Day For The Prey [JazzVillage] Lori McKenna, The Bird & The Rifle [CN Records] Allison Miller’s Boom Tic Boom, Otis Was A Polar Bear [Royal Potato Family] Nick Millevoi, Desertion [Shhpuma Records]

Mr Fingers, Outer Acid EP [Alleviated] Mr. Lif, Don’t Look Down [Mello Music Group] Moksha, Beauty Of An Arbitrary Moment [Jazzland] Heraldo do Monte, Heraldo do Monte [Biscoito Fino] Moodymann, DJ-Kicks [!K7 Records] Clara Moreno, Samba Esquema Novo De Novo [Far Out] Maren Morris, Hero [Sony] Murray, Allen & Carrrington Power Trio, Perfection [Motema] Roy Nathanson & Friends, Nearness And You: Duets And Improvisations [Clean Feed] Willie Nelson, Summertime: Willie Nelson Sings Gershwin [Sony] Nisennenmondai, #N/A, [On-U Sound] No Em Pingo D’Agua, Sambatologia [Biscoito Fino] Nots, Cosmetic [Goner] NxWorries, Yes Lawd! [Stones Throw] Frank Ocean, Blond [Boys Don’t Cry] Aruan Ortiz Trio, Hidden Voices [Intakt Records] Anderson .Paak, Malibu [Steel Wool / OBE] Jeff Parker, New Breed [International Anthem] Aaron Parks, Groovements [Sundance] Parquet Courts, Human Performance [Rough Trade] Florian Pellissier Quintet, Cap De Bonne Esperance [Heavenly Sweetness] Luis Perdomo, Spirits & Warriors [Criss Cross Jazz] Pet Shop Boys, Super [x2 Recordings] Ralph Peterson, Triangular III [Onyx/Truth Revolution] Richard Poole / Marilyn Crispell / Gary Peacock, In Motion [Intakt]

Margo Price, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter [Third Man Records] Psychic TV, Alienist [Dais Records] Punkt3, Ordnung Herrscht [Clean Feed] Quantic Presents Flowering Inferno, 1000 Watts [Tru Thoughts] Isaiah Rashad, The Sun’s Tirade [Top Dawg] Joshua Redman & Brad Mehldau, Nearness [Nonesuch] Renegades Of Jazz, Moyo Wangu [Agogo] Eric Revis Trio [w/ Kris Davis and Gerald Cleaver], Crowded Solitudes [Clean Feed] Rhythm Future Quartet, Travels [Rhythm Future Quartet] Rihanna, Anti [Westbury Road Entertainment] Jim Rotondi, Dark Blue [Smoke Sessions] Rudy Royston, Rise Of Origin [Greenleaf] Roswell Rudd, Jamie Saft, Trevor Dunn, Balázs Pándi, Strength & Power [RareNoise] Wanda Sá, Cá entre nós [Fina Flor] Sao Paulo Underground, Cantos Invisiveis [Cuneiform] Savages, Adore Life [Matador] Scarcity Of Tanks, Ringleader Lies [Total Life] Mikael Seifu, Zelalem [RVNG Intl.] Noura Mint Seymali, Arbina [Glitterbeat] Shabaka & The Elders, Wisdom Of Ancestors [Brownswood] Paul Simon, Stranger To Stranger [Concord] Sleigh Bells, Jessica Rabbit [Torn Clean] Wadada Leo Smith, America’s National Parks [Cuneiform] Sneaks, Gymnastics [Merge] Snowboy & The Latin Section, New York Afternoon [Mark Cotgrove]

Elza Soares, The Woman at the End of the World [Mais Um Discos] Solange, A Seat At The Table [Columbia] Sonzeira, Tam Tam Tam Reimagined [Brownswood] So Pitted, neo [Sub Pop] Vince Staples, Prima Donna [Def Jam] Robert Stillman, Rainbow [self-released] Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor’s Guide To Earth [Atlantic] Sun Ra / Merzbow, Strange City [Cold Spring] Swet Shop Boys, Cashmere [Customs] Tegan And Sara, Love You To Death [Warner Bros] The Thermals, We Disappear [Saddle Creek] Thug Entrancer, Arcology [Kemado/Mexican Summer] A Tribe Called Quest, We got it from Here...Thank You 4 Your service [Epic] Trio Da Paz [Lubambo/Matta/Fonseca], 30 [Zoho Music] Ukandanz, Awo [Atypeek Music] Caetano Veloso & Gilberto Gil, Dois Amigos, Um Seculo De Musica David Virelles, Antenna EP [ECM] Dan Weiss, Sixteen: Drummers Suite [Pi Recordings] Kanye West, The Life Of Pablo [self-released] Waco Brothers, Going Down In History [Bloodshot] Greg Ward, Touch My Beloved’s Thought [Greenleaf Music] Warehouse, super low [Bayonet] White Lung, Paradise [Domino Recording Co] Wussy, Forever Sounds [Shake It Records] Eri Yamamoto Trio, Life [AUM Fidelity] La Yegros, Magnetismo [Soundway] Yoni & Getti, Testarossa [Joyful Noise]

-- jazz, pop, avant: a jumping off point for explorations.

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