A/N: Well, hi there! Please enjoy this offering, I love reading your comments, so feel free to drop one for me. Thanks for reading x

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: hmmm....none really?

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty four: Perfect Timing 

“Run that by me one more time?” If the whiskey Frankie was drinking hadn’t cost so much, she would've spat it out after hearing those words form Bernadette’s mouth. 

“Don’t be weird about it. Joe and I are just going for a walk or something. I’m only telling you so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped, okay?” 

“Uh huh….’walk’… sure. Have fun.” Francesca smirked, she did not for one second believe Birdie and Joe were going to end the night with a simple walk.

Birdie waved off her friend, rolling her eyes at the insinuation. The woman made her way back to Liebgott, who was waiting for her right where she left him.  

“Everything good?” He spoke when he saw Birdie approaching. 

“Yeah…” The pair began heading for the door, “So, where are you taking me, Joseph.” They hit the cool outside air and Birdie wondered which direction they should start walking. Was is presumptuous of her to head back to the barracks? Joe turned to the right, so she followed.

“There’s this place down the road, real nice for dancing… I figured you'd enjoy a proper spin and not whatever that guy was doing…” He joked, chuckling before letting his mirth slip, becoming somewhat serious, “You can call me Joe, ya know?” 

“I know… but Joe is Joe.” She was referring to Toye, it was eerie calling them both the same name, especially after realizing she had feelings for one of the men, while the other was like family.

“Well, only my mother calls me Joseph.” Spoken matter of factly. Hearing the formal version of his name after not hearing it for so long was bizarre. 

“Then you can beee….” Birdie thought for a moment, finger on her chin, “Joey.”

“No. No way. No one calls me Joey, that’s stupid.” Lieb looked over at the girl, her bottom lip pushed out comically as she puppy dog eyed him. It took two seconds for him to cave, “Fine, you can call me Joey. But if any of the guys start up that nickname, I’ll get you.” His threat was a joke, he wouldn’t actually do anything. Maybe he just wanted something special between them.  

“Ooo I’m so scared, Joey.” Bernadette taunted, a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Yeah, you should be.” He watched her grinning at him and felt lightheaded, he mirrored her dopey look before abruptly stopping in his tracks. 

“Here, this is the place.” He looked up at the name marked above the door, just to be sure. He had been to this pub a few weeks before with Tipper, Floyd and Grant, who had instantly found women to fling around the dancefloor, while Joe sat at the bar wishing she was here. 

And tonight, she was.  

“Fancy.” Birdie deadpanned. The place didn't look like much, dim and dusty. The entryway was not well kept and while Birdie didn’t typically mind, she enjoyed banter with the man who brought her here and wanted to poke fun at him a little. He understood her jest and smiled at her, 

“Hey, don’t judge a book by its cover and all that.” Joe swung open the door and the muted chatter livened up. As Birdie stepped inside, she heard the swing music more clearly and grinned. She loved to dance, with the right partner, of course. 

“Come on, I’ll get you a drink.” Joe steered her towards the bar, they were both nervous, a drink would help ease them into the situation neither of them ever thought they would be in. 

“Whiskey?” Joe queried, even though he knew the answer. He noticed the southerner would accept most beverages, she wasn't really picky, but if she had a choice, the lady would always go for a whiskey. 

“Neat.” She confirmed, somewhat stunned, how did he know her ‘go to’ drink? “Here.” She offered him some folded up bills to cover her drink and some, but he shook his head.

“You're kidding, right?” Eyebrows raised, “Put it away. I’m not taking your money, doll.” The nickname made her breath hitch. She had not expected that from him, yet it sounded familiar, like it was an everyday occurrence. 

“Doll?” It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. 

“Well, if you're gonna call me Joey, I gotta have a nickname for you.” She didn't argue, the warmth in her cheeks and dizzy feeling in her stomach wouldn't allow it. She could accept the pet name; doll, but only from him.

After sipping away and finishing their liquid courage, Joe extended his hand to her, “Dance with me?” 

She paused for a moment, trying not to seem too eager, before accepting his invitation. 

The music that played was fast and upbeat, Birdie was sweating by the end of the first song, though she enjoyed it more than her previous dance. Joe knew what he was doing on the dancefloor, the steps came naturally to him, like he was born for this.  

Both soldiers were glowing, this place had really brought out a euphoric feeling and it showed. Smiles never left their faces as they spun around each other, stepping quickly and holding hands the entire time. 

Joey and Birdie had sat at the bar having danced through several songs and eventually growing tired. They didn't even order another drink, they just sat and chatted, sharing their pasts, presents and futures. 

Birdie learnt his five siblings' names: Mary, Elizabeth, Anna, Barbara and Stephen. She found out he had worked with his father (also Joseph) at a barber shop and then drove cabs after getting his license, he told her that's what he wanted to do when he got back to the states, driving wasn't just a job for him. Joe really enjoyed it, seeing the streets he grew up on and meeting all sorts of unique people. She knew he lived in San Francisco and was beginning to fall in love with his depiction of the city; she wanted to see it for herself. 

Joe had asked her about her family, which she gladly yapped on about. He understood the closeness she held with her relatives and he found himself wishing he could meet them all one day. Bernadette proudly spoke of her new goddaughter; Gracie and Joe’s heart warmed at the thought of Birdie cradling a newborn. She went on to tell him about her childhood on the ranch, being raised with real live animals in her care gave her a great sense of responsibility. 

It was well past midnight when the barkeep called for the last drink, the music was cut off and patrons started trickling out of the building, swaying their way home. 

Their talk was cut short when the barkeep all but shoved them out, shaking his head at the pair before shutting the door in their faces, muttering about young couples.

Birdie checked her watch, it couldn't have been that late, they had only been there…. Five hours?! How had that happened? It was just past 4AM and neither of them had slept yet. Plus she and Joey had up and left all their friends and disappeared, there were bound to be some invasive questions. Birdie did not look forward to Toye and Guarnere’s reactions nor any of the ladies, especially Frankie. 

“Joey…” She sounded out softly, gaining his attention. He turned to look at her and froze, the only light came from a nearby street lamp and the moon. The silvery glow did wonders for her. Joe wished he had a camera so he could document the events of this night, the dancing, the chatting and now her standing in the middle of a barely lit street with the moonlight reflecting in her eyes; he never wanted to forget it. 

“It’s really late.” She spoke quietly, the world around them was asleep and she didn't want to risk waking it. 

He could kiss her. It was the perfect moment, they had just shared an amazing evening, growing closer. And now, he was looking at her and she was looking at him and all he wanted to do was lean down and kiss her. Feel how soft her lips were, taste her and allow her to do the same. 

He glanced down at her lips and back to her eyes, watching for recognition, did she feel it too? 

Birdie saw his silent inquiry and her eyes widened, pupils dilated. She, too, flicked her gaze to his lips and back up, telling him to proceed.

It was the perfect moment and as Joe moved to lower himself to her, she let her heels raise, ever so slightly, onto her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

“Heeyyyyy. I know y-you guys- two. Both of you two. I know yoooou.” They broke apart, the trance worn out at the interruption, fading into embarrassment. 

Nixon stumbled toward them, missing entirely and toppling over into a heap in the middle of the road. 

Immediately, Bernadette was by his side, picking him up off the floor and attempting to balance the inebriated man. Nixon babbled incoherent nonsense, only one or two words could be understood. Joe would have laughed at the lieutenant but he was still processing the almost kiss. 

She had leaned in, hadn’t she? Did he imagine that, surely not. No, she definitely would’ve kissed him back if only they had a few more seconds. 

“Little help here, Joey?” Her voice called to him. Shaking his thoughts away, he joined her on the other side of Nixon, ducking under his arm and hoisting him up. 

“Where are we taking you, lieutenant?” The question wasn’t answered as Nixon flopped over, unable to give the directions to the house he was billeted to. 

“I know where we can take him. It’s not far.” Birdie told her Joey, and they set off down the road with the drunk held between them, pretending nothing had changed. 

Except everything had. It was all either of them could think about, the almost kiss. 

Birdie was lost in her own world. Should she have allowed it to get that far? They had both been drinking, surely the ability to think clearly had been blurred somewhat. Had he really wanted to kiss her or was he just tipsy and lonely? Did she really want to kiss him or was she just convinced she had a crush on the man? Was everything going to be weird with them now? Had this night messed up their friendship?

The house she was looking for came into view, she pointed it out to Joe and they brought the semi unconscious man to the doorstep, before she stepped forward, leaving Lewis to be held up by Joe and raised a hand to knock. 

“Wait.” Joe whispered, “what if we wake someone?" Birdie gave him a pointed look and knocked at the door thrice. 

“That’s kinda the point, Joey.” He just smiled at her use of the new nickname, that was a good sign. He hadn’t told her to stop using it or started to pushed her away, so maybe whatever was happening between them was still salvageable.

The front door swung open and revealed Richard Winters, he was bleary eyed and in his pajamas. 

“Birdie? What are you doing here? It’s…” He checked his watch, “0440!” He then seemed to notice the two men behind her, one slumped over the other and sighed. 

“Bring him in.” 

A/N: ooo okay things are getting interesting! What do y'all think? Do you like the nicknames? I'm still not sure how I feel about them...

I guess Nixon has some perfect timing... Joe and Birdie- not so much

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty five: A sleepover

Update: I haven’t been writing for a few days, I will be starting up again soon though so don’t think I’ve abandoned this story! Just having a little break, love y’all!

All right, lets talk about Pyramid Scheme! Because why not.

So the episode starts with Cleo being as pompous as ever (don't get me wrong, I love that about her) while talking to her diary-eyeball thing about the school play. She wants to audition for the role of Cleopatra, and we get to see her practice in front of Clawdeen and Frankie. And can I just say, I love her personality this gen, because it even shows in how she's practicing her lines: "I have immortal longing! In meee. And then some- other words!"

It's great. Frankie looks so happy to be there, they even stood up while clapping for her. We all see you Frankie.

Clawdeen does not seem quite as impressed ("Wow Cleo! That was... Uhm. Anyway."). They're looking for the mummy talisman, and I'm exited to see that storyline continue. But Cleo has other priorities.

It isn't in her jewlery box, so she stopped looking. Yeah that seems about right for her.

She outright says that she was named after Cleopatra, which made me really exited on my first watch. Because we all knew that's why she was originally named that, but it's cool that it's canon.

Nefera was studying abroad in Scaris, and I really hope we one day get some kind of special or something where they all go there, cause that seems fun. Apparently, they both have an interest in acting, but their parents only ever supported Nefera in that regard, while Cleo got to be... The tree.

Ouch. No wonder she doesn't want to see her sister, if she can only associate her presence with getting sidelined.

Before she arrives, Cleo talks to her heart: "Cleo + Cleo's heart forever!" Which is stronger, Frankie's feelings for Cleo, or Cleo's love for herself? Does Frankie have a shot?

Jokes aside, I do think Cleo's behaviour is a symptom of her self doubt, and it'd be cool to see that explored some more. Definitely shows how parents not showing enough pride for one of their kids can effect them.

Frankie's manner of fact speaking once again shines through: "Do you have another sister? (...) Cause you said Nefera's in Scaris, but that girl behind you looks a lot like you. But even more royal." Damn.

Nefera makes her entrance, very exited to see her little sister. Cleo does not share the sentiment. She was invited to audition for Cleopatra as well, and Cloe is desperate to find a way to get the role.

Aside from that, we get to see her room for the first time! Neat.

"We all know what makes you royal! Jewles." I think you might have gotten the wrong message there.

She thinks she can get the role by dazzling everyone with Cleopatras necklace, which is why she wants to sneak into her families tomb. The passageway is a small pyramid, and once again, Frankie has the best comments: "Should we tell her that's a paperweight?"

Nefera barges in before they can leave, and asks if Cleo "...Join(ed) the track team, cause you ran out of there like you wanted to set a new record!" Girl, either you're oblivious, or in De Nile. Hah.

Cleo and Frankie rush off to the tomb, leaving Clawdeen to come up with an excuse: "Urgent snack break." Based.

Followed by Frankie's iconic line: "Anything for you Cleo." Right before dematerializing. Okay, so they just get sent back to Cleo's room, but it's still amusing. To give Cloe some credit, she does look concerned.

Cleo takes the necklace and it all goes wrong, because it has to be replaced by something of equal value, a.k.a. not the random rock she picked. The tomb starts falling apart, and Nefera, Clawdeen and Frankie go after her, because they know Cleo is putting herself in danger. But then Nefera is the one who falls down.

Something interesting, Cloe looks to her for what to do. I think she does look up to her, to an extend, and would like her a lot more if she didn't get so overshadowed by her.

Their conversation after that is interesting too. Cleo admits to taking Cleopatra's necklace, and Nefera asks: "Why do you have to do things like that? If you're just-" Things like what?

Cleo says she knows, she'll never reach her high bar, but she's trying. Seems like Nefera had some expectations of her she couldn't meet? I'd really like the context to that.

We find out that the necklace is the heart of Cleopatra, so if you want to replace it with something equal... It has to be a heart. Cleo is about to put it back, but doesn't. Because the mummy palisman is on it, and helping Clawdeen get her mom back is more important to her. She throws it to her, and Frankie does not know the right time to simp. "Impressive throw Cleo!" jhgfdkj

Cleo puts her own heart there to stop the tomb from falling apart on them all, effectively dooming herself to being emotionless and cold forever. Gotta show you her monologue: "Goodbye heart! It was super cool that you let me feel emotions all these years. I'll miss that! If missing is something I can do without you nearby."

The destruction stops and they all get Nefera out of the pit of doom. Cute little scene, she helps Cleo fix her bandages.

Of course, Frankie can't let Cleo go heartless, so they, uhm. Bite a rock into the shape of a heart.

Are their teeth made of steel or something? Gotta love what they say before that though: "Gonna try something. Sorry if it traps us all in here forever." They're so nonchalant about it. Still, it works and they announce it as their own heart. I don't know what kind of passion they put into making that thing for the tomb to recognise it as equal to an actual heart, but I'm sure the Francleo shippers have their theories (I say, as if I don't ship them too).

The talisman ends up showing that Cleo is the mummy representative, because her sacrificing her heart was so selfless. Which makes me think, it seems like the other amulets match with the main cast, right? So maybe they all find their respective amulets, and have to do something selfless so they can be the representatives when they all open the portal again. Just a thought, I haven't looked at the episode summaries, so I don't actually know.

Also; "No ones ever chosen me over you." That is so sad. Frankie you better pick her right now >:(

And try not to kill your friends.

So yeah, fun episode, I liked it a lot. Also big thanks to bluebelleisabelle for sharing all the episodes on her pinned post, we all really appreciate it.

more thoughts on a soc &j au (beware spoilers for both!!)

ok so.

juliet and romeo as nina and matthias. i really feel as though nina is simply a more mature juliet; they share a very similar charm and wit. plus nina being a heartrender i feel like gives 'oops i did it again' vibes even though that is not what a heart render does lmao. i just feel there is a symbolism to be found between juliet as a lover and hearts + exerting control over them (this takes me back to year 9 writing r&j essays, were they in control of their romance or was it fate, that kind of idea).

matthias and romeo are not very similar characters in terms of personality - what with romeo being kinda airheaded and Matthias being a more stoic character. BUT. matthias is raised druskelle, who hunt and kill grisha (what nina is), which is about as close as you can get to a capulet-montague metaphor, i reckon. plus, (SPOILERS) his death at the end of crooked kingdom, IN NINAS ARMS MIGHT I MENTION, is very r&j, and very the start of &j, as nina does not also kill herself. both pairs follow a classic forbidden lovers arc, while not created, was popularised to some extent by r&j, so i feel like the doomed romance creates some glaring parallels.

NOW.

frankie as wylan. wylan, in both show and books, is mousy, a talented musician, lacking in confidence. remind you of anyone? he's also neurodivergent-coded, and so is frankie. they both share an overbearing father and an absent mother figure (please note: this is not me equating lance to van eck. lance misunderstands his son, van eck is straight up abusive.) wylan has a beautiful arc of sort of discovering part of himself, and a certain level of self-confidence, through his love for jesper and the support he receives in return, that i think lines up in a really neat way with frankie's overall arc in the show of finding himself, and finding confidence, due in part to finding may.

speaking of! may as jesper. physical characteristics aside, jesper is the fashionable smooth-talker of the crows, in a way that reminds me of the may we see before 'domino' and again before 'i kissed a girl'. jesper also faces similar challenges to may, but where may struggles with their gender identity, (SPOILERS) jesper represses his own grisha powers. and before you say "fen! that's not the same thing at all, you doof!" both aspects of the characters are painted as integral to each of them respectively. may has (presumably, as it's not outright stated, only inferred) dealt with years of misgendering and confusion, and hides that part of themself up until 'i'm not a girl', and jesper actively works to hide the powers that, as part of his culture (zemini), "should be celebrated" because of a bad experience in the past (not gonna spoil that one). also, jesper wears a skirt for like. several episodes of shadow and bone, and to me personally, it's giving genderfluid vibes, but that's neither here nor there.

overall, please watch this scene, look me in the eyes, and tell me it's not maycois.

PS. not sure who i would put as kaz and inej? maybe anne and william? however it works more in the sense of their strained relationship in &j than it does in terms of the actual characters. hmm.

Frankie Morales x ND!reader

A little drabble about Frankie taking care of anxious ND reader at Christmas.

TW: anxiety, negative self talk, Christmas.

Frankie hovered in the kitchen, making his hands appear busy as he watched you on the couch. He knew something wasn't right, beyond the illness that had been draining you for a week. Your smile didn't quite reach your eyes anymore, save for a few times when you looked at him with all the love you had, he swears he can see it shine from your eyes, your soul, just as clear as he can see the lights shine on the Christmas tree.

He knows your sleep has been fitful, he feels you stirs, knows that it's been taking longer for you to drift off. At first he put it down to the almost forty-eight of sleep you had at the start of this flu. No, this wasn't the flu any more. This was your first Christmas together and your first anniversary the following week. Frankie wanted everything to be perfect for you. Just like you were perfect for him.

"You're staring, Frankie." You commented with a smile, without even turning your head from your book. Even though you both know you haven't been really reading it.

It only takes his long legs a few steps to cross over to you before sittingon the edge of the sofa next to you. "I know something is wrong. I didn't want to push you but you know you can tell me anything."

He doesn't miss the way you outwardly cringe behind the mask of your pages. Taking a breath you compose yourself behind it's safety before putting it down to talk to him. "You're right. I should have know I couldn't hid from you." A soft smile graces your lips as you take his hand in yours. "I'm sorry. It's just this time of year. I'm out of routine. There's so much to do, yet not enough to do. It sets off my anxiety. Then my anxiety takes over. I can't seem to keep myself present, I'm either upset over the past, over those that should be her with me or terrified over the future. Christmas is just hard being sick on top of it had just worn me down."

"Mi Amor, why didn't you say anything?" His warm eyes shone with concern, his pout was drawn down. You already wanted to kiss the look of sadness away.

"My anxiety is because I was born messed up. You have actual reasons to have anxiety." You avoid his eyes as you speak.

A moment later you find yourself crushed to his chest. "You and I both know you weren't born messed up. You wouldn't say that about anyone else in your shoes so don't say it about yourself. Besides that one of the neat things about anxiety, it will go after anyone." He pressed a kiss to your head. "So Christmas is a trigger for you?" You only nod against him. You let him hold you until the anxiety swells in your stomach and you have to use the bathroom. Frankie appears at the door when you are done. "Hey, why don't you take a bath? They warmth will help with your stomach. When you come down we can try to get a little toast or something in you. OK?" His care caused an ache inside you. Why couldn't your stupid body accept that you had it pretty good and just calm down?

"Hey." Frankie moved to catch your eyes. "Wherever you just went, don't go there again. I love you."

"Love you, too." And you did even when your felt like you didn't feel your feelings the way you should, you always loved Frankie. Even back when you were just friends before Benny's New Year's Eve party.

The bath helped you stomach a little. It didn't help your thoughts as much. Grabbing some fresh clothes from your bedroom you didn't notice some things had been moved. Walking into the living room, you definitely noticed. "Frankie...?"

The Christmas tree was gone. The few ornaments were gone. The presents under the tree were gone but there was pile of stuff in their place. A book, a video game, what looked like comfortable clothes. While you were taking it all in Frankie come in through the front door.

"Frankie? What did you do?" You tilted your head at him.

"I thought we could just have our own holiday. None of that stuff or expectations. I drew up us a new routine." He gestured to the counter behind you. On a note pad he had drawn up a timetable, including all your favourite ways to pass the time. He even drawn a cute winky face next to a section labeled 'Playtime'. "I unwrapped your present. You can look at them whenever. I was just grabbing the recipients from my glove box. You can return anything you don't want. No pressure." He handed you all his receipts, well all except the one for your engage ring. That was now hidden, along with the ring itself. Waiting for a day where you were more yourself.

"Frankie...I..." Tears pricked your eyes. You knew none of this would magically erase your anxiety. Your body would just have to process this illness before you could take all the steps necessary to handle this time of year but for the first time in days, you could see passed it. There was hope. That you weren't going to feel this way forever. That even if you got better this time you wouldn't just be treading water until the next bout. That you weren't broken. All the things you kept trying to remind yourself now felt a little bit more real, thanks to Frankie.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

not exactly sure if it was thriller bark sticking the landing after dragging for a while or if there was a second wind the instant it ended

its like they remembered they could have more than one (1) scene per episode and like. actually have Stuff Happen! amazing!

(apparently this is my thriller bark ramble post sorry)

like. ok. im not someone who instantly rejects filler (unless its like “literally just replaying past episodes” filler), i love "unneeded" episodes of character bonding and shenanigans

but there were sooooooooooooooo many instances of dumb padding with scenes going on way longer than needed. like they couldnt figure out how to fill the entire runtime so they just have people yell for a long time or pant for like 40 seconds straight (or the uh, attempted marriage kiss gag)

really reminded me why i've been enjoying shorter (~12-24ep) anime as of recent. Things Happen!!!!!! you get full entire experiences with each episode! you have to make each episode count! like of course not every anime can or should be fit into such a small scale but this arc did NOT need ~40 episodes

im still also kinda reeling from That Part™ of ep 341. it was just. a way different tone/intensity from the rest of the series that i wasnt prepared for and it was REALLLLLLL hard to just go back to the normal swing of a haha funee episode after that :''''D

the fanservice in general this arc was. a bit grating. thankfully it wasnt that bad the whole way through but yeesh (also sanji went down a few flights of stairs on my character respect list jkfdlafjkldas)

for things i enjoyed........music was great, and i'm so happy they're continuing to introduce new tracks, it helps so much keeping up the intensity and emotion (there was one midway through 373 that was SO GOOD)

i also really like this take on zombies, normally im not a huge fan of them but this concept was super neat + refreshing; i also really love the concept of zombies that still have full speech capabilities, it was great

and thats...about...it? (at least, only considering up until oars/moria is defeated and not the following episodes since i liked a lot about them actually) uhhhh. i liked some of the crew bonding moments, especially with franky + brook since i'm still not very familiar with them yet and how they fit into the crew, but i'm overall really enjoying them so far, especially franky <3

im still a bit disappointed the Vibe™ wasnt what i was expecting when the arc started, but i only have myself to blame for those expectations haha

4. Date

The final installment of my short series "The Dance". You finally make it to Frankie's place for your movie date. Fluffy stuff ensues. Seriously, so much fluff.

WARNINGS: lots of makin' out, y'all. Nothing too spicy here, but it gets heated. Lemme know if there should be more warnings.

18+ blog, no kiddos allowed. Yeet, skeedaddle, shoo. It's for your protection and mine.

So, I don't have anything formal, but if y'all wanna be put on some kind of taglist, shoot me a DM or leave me a comment wherever. I've had a couple of requests, and I'm happy to do it...but y'all, I'm new here. Be patient with old person Ro while I figure out the tumblrs, ok? 🤣

My lovely wife beta'd this for me, so any mistakes are ours. Lemme know if there's anything glaring. lol

Triple Frontier fanfiction:

Frankie MoralesxPlusSizeF!reader

✨✨Reader in this fic can visibly blush, and I was informed that not everyone can do that. I want everyone to feel welcome here! I just wanted my readers to be aware, and I want y'all to know I will be more mindful of this in the future.✨✨

If there's anything else I can improve on to make everyone comfortable, please feel free to send me a dm! 💗

-----------------------------------------------------

Comfortable.

You kicked your chucks off and scooted them into the corner where all of Frankie's shoes sat. His work boots utterly dwarfed your own beat up sneakers. It made you smile.

You followed Frankie through his living room, padding with socked feet into his neat kitchen and deposited the pizza boxes on the countertop. You looked up at him and beamed.

"Your place is gorgeous. It all feels very you."

He ran his fingers through his hair and chuckled.

"I'm glad you like it. It's my safe haven, my own little corner of the world I can crawl into when I'm tired."

Your heart softened for him even more, if that was possible. He was looking around at the place he'd built up for himself, and then back down at you through his nearly-dry curls. You sigh and let your head fall and land on his arm. You feel him stiffen slightly before relaxing and slinging that arm around your shoulders for a side squeeze. He hesitated for a split second before planting a kiss on the crown of your head and encouraging you to dig in.

Paper plates overflowing with pizza and breadsticks, beer and sweet tea brought out, you settled into the big, squishy couch in the living room. Frankie dug the remote out of the cushions and started looking through various streaming platforms for something to watch. Once you'd settled on some drama film, you dug into the food in comfortable silence, enraptured by sweeping vistas flitting across the screen.

Once you'd both eaten enough to make bellies poke out, and pants a bit tighter, you spread on the couch a bit and leaned back into Frankie's chest. You tried to pay more attention to the movie, truly. The story was easy enough to follow in the very beginning, however, the warm body wrapped around you was incredibly distracting.

Frankie smelled so nice, and his heartbeat was comfortingly thump thumping your ear. He was messing with a loose string on your sleeve, and you'd been fidgeting with the zipper on his hoodie, when Frankie sucked in a breath. Your eyes widened a bit before you let out a squealing giggle.

Since you hadn't been paying attention to the movie, and apparently, neither had Frankie, the love scene seemed to pop up out of the blue. You could feel him begin to utterly radiate heat as he flushed at the sounds coming from the tv. Moaning, a squeaking bed and little uh uh uhs. He squirmed a bit and chuckled awkwardly.

"What's the matter Frankiiiie? We're both grown ass adults! Why are you blushing?"

His big hand covered his face as he mumbled something. You cackled and picked up a few of his fingers to uncover an eye. The crinkles around it showed how much he was smiling, and you had the sudden urge to kiss the happy little lines surrounding that twinkling orb.

So you did.

The laughter ended abruptly, it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. Your heart was beating hard enough to make your chest ache, you could see that Frankie's breathing had really sped up. He still had his hand partially covering his face, but seemed frozen like a deer in the headlights. He uncovered his eyes, reached forward slowly, tucking the little piece of hair that never wanted to behave behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your cheek enough to make you shiver.

His gaze darted to your lips and back up to your eyes. On instinct, you traced your bottom lip with your tongue and in an instant, Frankie had closed the gap between you. His hand drifted to the back of your neck, cradling your head, gently pressing the two of you together. The kiss was closed lips, chaste, soft. You parted with a light smick sound. He sighed and rubbed tiny circles into your scalp, his forehead pressed to yours.

"Baby, I-"

You didn't let him finish. You surged forward, grabbed his face in both of your hands and really kissed him. He shivered and grabbed you around the waist to haul you closer. You grunted as you shifted to a more comfortable position, never breaking the kiss. He sucked in a breath, groaned, and licked the seam of your lips. You parted for him eagerly and granted him entry with a whimper.

Tongues met, and he licked at you hungrily. He tasted of bread, sweet tea, and something that was simply, deliciously, Frankie. Experimentally, you used your teeth very lightly on his plush bottom lip; he hissed and further deepened the kiss. Smushing his nose against your cheek, his hot tongue probed deep, licking into you with a ferver, frantically grasping at your plush body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined into his mouth, one of his hands sliding under your shirt to grip the bare skin of your waist.

You explored, licked, sucked, and sighed together till you had to surface for air.

He looked more than a little bit wrecked once you finally parted. Curls were sticking out everywhere, the masterful artwork of your greedy fingers, his plump lips swollen and a deep shade of pink, all shiny with your combined spit. Those dark, heavy lidded eyes looked down into your own lust blown ones. Chest heaving a little as he tried to catch his breath, his irises caught the kitchen light, making it look like they were glowing. A big, lopsided grin stretched itself over his beautiful features.

He patted his lap and you took the invitation, straddling his legs and pressing your chest to his. He ran his hands down your back and let them land on your hips. Pressing his forehead to yours, he closed his eyes as you encircled his neck with your arms. You sat for a while like that, cozy in each other’s presence.

The credits had rolled by, and all you could hear was the soft sound of Frankie breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the slowing thump thump of your own heartbeat. With eyes still closed, you feel Frankie lean forward and ever so gently brush his lips across every inch of your face, your forehead, each of your eyelids, your cheeks, down to your lips. The kisses were slow, languid, and unrushed. You savored his softness, the velvety heat of his tongue dancing with yours. You felt warm. Physically, yes, but also deep down. Fuzzy. Like things had finally clicked for you and all was right in the world.

***********************************

You must have eventually dozed off for a bit, a little puddle of drool had gathered under your face and you grimaced. Your eyes shot open, realizing with a small jolt that you were still straddling Frankie. He was snoring lightly in your ear and had his hands resting on your thighs. He'd draped the big fluffy blanket over your shoulders so as to cover you and him. You smiled.

Sweet man.

You never wanted to move, he was so toasty and...perfect. You sighed deep in your chest, drowsily delighting in the feel of him, solid yet soft, beneath you. The thought drifted lazily through your brain that you wouldn't mind snoozing on top of this teddy bear of a man forever. You buried your head into his warm neck and inhaled him in. He really did smell so fucking good. You'd have to sneak into the shower and see what soaps he uses.

Cracking open an eye, you stilled your breathing momentarily. What was that sound? Your brows scrunched up in concentration as you listened harder, trying to pinpoint what the hell that was. It was getting really loud; smacking against the metal chimney cover on the roof. Frankie stirred, and started to stretch beneath you. He sucked in a long breath, one eye open, arms and legs extended while you still sat in his lap.

"Do you want me to move for a better stretch, sleepyhead?"

He grunted out an uuh uhhh while still extending himself out in a big X beneath you. His shirt rode up to expose his tummy a little, so you grazed your fingertips over the fuzzy hairs there, just barely touching the skin. He giggled and it broke the stretch entirely, making him fold his whole body back inward, smacking your backside with his knees, his head thumping right into the crook of your neck.

"Oh-HO! You ticklish, Morales?"

Before he could squeak out a no, you'd shoved your hands under his shirt and dug your fingers into his ribs, gently pressing around a bit, till he was absolutely howling from deep down in his chest. He thrashed under you for a minute or so, bucking his hips up trying to wiggle away, finally catching your wrists in his big hands and holding them aloft. You were both wheezing from laughing so damn hard, and red-faced when you heard the weird sound again. Frankie moved you off his lap with a muttered,

"Aw, shit."

He ran over to the back yard window and opened the blinds.

"Welp, little sugarbee, you may be stuck for a bit."

You stood with the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders, shuffled over to the window to peer out, and sighed. Heavy sleet. Frankie knew your car would slip and slide around on the ice. You knew he wouldn't wanna risk it in his geriatric truck.

"I could try to get you home if we go right now."

He really hoped you'd say no. It wasn't that he wanted to see you naked, well, it wasn't that he only wanted to see you naked. On top of having a car old enough to legally drink alcohol, your apartment building was ancient and had a hard enough time keeping the electricity from shutting down during light spring showers much less a deluge of slushy ice.

"You're welcome to stay though. I have loads of firewood, a camp stove, and plenty of canned and dried food if we lose power."

He risked a peek at you, and you were gazing at him with something he could only pin down as bemusement in your eyes.

You glanced at the clock, the oven read 4:15am. Your stomach lurched a bit thinking about getting to work in the morning in this mess. Right on cue, both of your phones dinged with messages at the same time. It was from your manager.

Jerry: Power out at the store. ETA on getting it back up is something ridiculous, like 3 days. Closed till icy shit clears up and we have electricity. Enjoy the rest everyone.

You chuffed out a small hm and peeked up at Frankie, only to find him shyly peeking at you too, the unspoken question in his eyes.

Stay with me?

"If you're ok with it, yeah. I'm not up to driving in this." He did a giddy little happy dance, curls bouncing everywhere.

You stop him in his tracks by grasping a fistful of his shirt to pull him down for a searing kiss, only to break it as he attempted to slip his tongue between your lips. You whispered seductively in his ear before gently biting his earlobe,

"Race you for the last breadstick."

You were off before he could recover from the obvious diversion you'd created to get a head start. He could hear you cackling in triumph as you rustled around in the paper bag for the semi-stale bread log. His face split into a wicked grin as he howled like a wolf and came barreling your way. You squealed and giggled when he caught you round the waist and dove for the breadstick. You licked it bottom to top and claimed it was yours now, ha ha.

"Pfft, like your spit would deter me."

You raised an eyebrow and made a huh sound as you offered him a bite. He leaned forward slowly as if he were going to be polite about it, and promptly stuffed half the length in his mouth and chomped.

You yelped and squealed in mock anger, crumbs flying as he laughed at your loud protests, choking a little when you started playfully pinching his sides. He gulped dryly, the lump of bread going down his craw with a struggle.

"Uncle, unclllleeeee. You're bruising my tender baby skin sugarbeeheh-hee-heeheeeeOW!"

One more pinch right in the soft tender meat of his armpit sends him off at a clumsy run, slipping a little with socked feet on the hard kitchen floor. He floundered in place for a stride or two before gaining traction, eventually run-shuffling off to vault over the couch and disappear on the opposite side. You heard him land on the cushions with a grunt.

You stumbled over, coughing between loud wheezes, your windpipe raw from the boisterous laughter. You used your sleeve to wipe tears from your eyes and plopped back down on the plush pillows next to your sweet Frankie. He wrapped a big arm around your back, his other dipping under your knees to scoop you up, transplanting you to his lap. Laying your head on his chest, you kissed his neck, and sighed in contentment.

You chose another movie together, something quiet to have on in the background. You gazed up at him with a sleepy smile. He peeked down at you and zoomed down to peck your nose with a tiny kiss before turning back to the screen. You felt your heart swell up, like it was going to expand and burst out of your chest.

This was a perfect ending to a perfect day. Listening to some octopus documentary, all wrapped up in this comfortably warm cocoon of affection with your favorite person. You promptly began drifting, Frankie steadily stroking your arm, humming a low tune into your hair.

You distantly felt him press a kiss to your forehead before settling into a warm, restful, sleep.

@rosellacwrites

lullaby

rating: 18+ only!

pairing: frankie morales x afab/fem!reader

summary: two love birds fucking to sleep.

word count: 2.2k+

content: fingering, brief intercrural sex, piv sex, biting, praise, choking (if you really, really squint)

a/n: ahhh. ignoring all the day’s responsibilities to write frankie smut. you know how it is.

It’s that usual slump of the rainy afternoon, your brain fogging over at the same rate that your eyelids grow heavy, blurry bursts of attention dwindling down to a steady and constant disinterest. Caffeine would do little to help, you think, clicking the pen in your hand— the only thing that keeps you alert. Incessant, slow snaps of noise against your thumb.

Resting your chin in your palm, you look over the same string of words that have flown through your vision three times, always forgotten once your sight leaves them. A break would help, should help, but you can’t pull yourself up from the chair. Instead, your arms become a pillow underneath your head, crossed and slightly uncomfortable for your neck as you scoot the chair outwards and lean against the desk.

Half-conscious, you hear the door crack open, then listen to the way it squeaks further as Frankie carefully pokes his head in. You hum in acknowledgement of his presence, but it’s the most you can manage, turning your head to rest the other cheek over your forearms, pushing the work back in the process.

His chuckle follows, warm and cheery sounds filling your ears until his large hand rests firm on your shoulder, fingertips applying light pressure in a too-gentle attempt at pulling you upright.

“Baby...” he whispers, lowering his head until his lips are just shy of your ear, “that doesn’t look very comfortable.” There’s a concerned tone lurking underneath the sweet edge of his voice as he begins to rub his fingers into both shoulders, working into the knots and tension. “Time for a nap?”

He presses a little harder into the spaces beside your neck and you raise your head with a sigh, leaning into his calming touch. 

“Looks like it,” he continues, bending to leave a soft kiss on your neck. “Come on, sweetheart. Up.” He places his hands under your arms and lifts, raising you a fraction of the way until you hold yourself up for him, standing on your feet and then lazily falling into the support of his strong arms.

“Hi,” you smile into his chest, all woodsy and warm with the essence of campfire.

“Been working real hard, huh?” he smiles back, gingerly leading you to bed, minding the steps you take.

At the foot of the bed, he sits you down and kneels at your feet, deft fingers working at the button of your jeans. His tongue pokes out in his focus, sliding across his upper lip.

“What’re you doing, baby?” you question, brushing a curl off his forehead with a single finger.

“Tell me if I’m wrong, but jeans aren’t comfortable to sleep in,” he laughs, his head chasing that subtle touch of yours. His fingers hook at the waistband and tug, you lifting your hips for him to aid in the process. The denim bunches at your feet and he pulls off each pant leg, dropping a kiss to each knee.

You thank him as he stands once more, planting his palms on either side of you as he leans in for a long, simple kiss to your lips. “You know I’m always available if you need to be undressed,” he says into your mouth and you giggle back into his. He urges you to lay down after ridding himself of his own pants, pulling you up with him on the mattress.

He’s a warm, solid comfort behind you as he tucks his smooth legs into the backs of yours, a heavy arm draping over your waist and bringing you ever closer to himself. His nose tickles the back of your neck as he uses it to move your hair, getting it out of the way for his lips to leave kisses there.

“Frankie,” you laugh, light and airy, squirming in his gentle grip while his kisses gain firmness and you feel the unmistakable yet lightning quick swipe of his tongue. His movements slow, an arm sneaking under your shirt and a thumb seeking out your nipple. He brushes over it languidly, hooking his chin over your shoulder to watch you and hear the way your breathing quickens. 

“Frankie...” This time, you sigh his name instead of laughing it out and you can feel him rapidly hardening against you, his hips beginning an unhurried roll.

“What kind of man would I be...” his breaths are shallow in your ear and he punctuates his words with a rough grind, “if I didn’t fuck my girl to sleep?”

“Oh, God, baby...” Breathless, you match and mirror each roll of his hips, listening to the low groans falling out of him. He brings his thumb up to your mouth and waits for you to take it in and wet it; you swirl your tongue before he withdraws it and brings it back to your nipple, massaging its wetness into the sensitive skin. 

“Is this okay?” He moans the question, reaching his hand down the front of your underwear and whimpering when he feels how slick you are for him, how physical your neediness has become.

“Fuck, always, Frankie, keep going,” you splutter, earning a pleased chuckle, his fingers spreading your wetness and circling your clit softly. Your head falls back into his shoulder and your body rocks with each thrust of his, sheets rustling beneath the both of you.

“Shit, you’re wet, baby.” His voice teeters on the edge of trembling as he slides two thick fingers in to stretch you out, fucking you with them in time with his grinding. Your own hand is quick to grasp at his wrist, nails digging, your moans filling the room in high and breathy, desperate and desirous noise. He curls the fingers inside you, pressing them tight to that spot he knows you can barely handle and keeps them there, rubbing it, massaging it. 

“Fuck, I need to fuck you, have to... have to have you,” he grunts, rubbing a few more circles before slipping his hand away, leaving you whining at the loss. “Shhh, baby,” he soothes, reaching down and tugging your underwear off. You kick them from your feet and attempt to turn and help him out of his but are powerless against the strength of him pinning you on your side. “No, I want you like this,” he tells you— warns you, sliding an arm under your neck and bending it to hold you still, squeezing you between his bicep and forearm. 

Taking his cock out, you feel it hard on your skin with the slight dampness of precum dripping. For a moment, he slides it between your thighs, your arousal allowing it to slip easy and thoroughly through your folds. At another whine of his name, he notches it at your entrance and before stretching you on it, he hooks a hand under your knee and raises your leg.

He gives you the first few inches and pauses to let you adjust, though his restrain is steadily running out. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he lunges forward to the hilt and his grip tightens on your neck, your leg, and the sound that leaves him is wrecked; a serrated and low hiss causing you to wet his cock even more.

“Jesus, fuck— you feel perfect like this,” Frankie babbles, lips catching on your ear lobe. You tilt your head to leave a free space for him and he takes it, open mouthed nips pulling at your skin, but not lasting— he turns to simple mouthing at your neck when he pulls out and pushes back in, the ability to place proper kisses diminishing, replaced by his pleasure.

He’s so thick, even more so at this angle, filling you to the point you feel complete with him nestled into you like this. The scruff of his cheek scratches on your neck, your hand reaching back to keep him there, fingers threading through what used to be a neat head of hair, now a mess of curls.

“M— more, please,” you beg, wishing you could turn your head enough to kiss him. Frankie notices the strain of your need, leaning his face as close to yours as he can, capturing your lips in a messy, sloppy kiss; it’s a desperate joining of mouths. His thrusts grow more urgent when he feels your slick dripping out onto the rest of him, sharing his breath with you; his groans to your lighter sighs.

“Yeah baby? You want some more?”

Lifting your leg even higher, deepening the crease in your hip, he fucks into you faster, harder, hitting something profound inside you and he tells you how fucking good you feel, how pretty you are, how gorgeous you sound. 

Mewling, you tug roughly on his hair, jolting with every push. His teeth scrape your shoulder, trailing until he bites down on it with a loud grunt, grinding his cock deep instead of fucking you in and out, keeping it inside you with each small but hefty shove.

He surrounds you; his flannel-covered chest and soft belly flush to your back, his wet, desperate mouthing, his cock filling you up so well. He lets your leg free, dropping that hand to your clit, running the tip of his middle finger over its slippery surface.

“That’s right, baby, just let me fuck you,” he coos, nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder, “just let me take— fuck— take care of you.”

“Frankie, you feel so good, baby, I can’t—”

“S’okay, I’ve got you.”

Another moan breaking from your throat forces him to start moving again, hard enough to make those sharp slapping noises of his pelvis against your ass, though not as loud as his harsh breaths in your ear, his strained praise. He picks up the pace of his fingers, swiping petal soft patterns on your clit, your sensitivity allowing that gentleness to be wholly pleasurable.

“I’ve needed you like this for so fucking long,” Frankie confesses, a deep furrow in his brow, his teeth catching his bottom lip. “Thought about fucking you from behind, making you cum on my cock, hearing you moan just for me...” 

“Francisco!” You cry, his fingers working you up almost too fast, and paired with the sensation of his intense pushes, there isn’t much time left to brace yourself for the way you’re about to cum, for the way it’s swiftly building up strong and relentless.

“Come on, baby, cum on me, I wanna feel it.”

You can faintly hear him urging you to take a deep breath right as it washes over you, the tingling, fiery release spreading from your head to your toes, all while Frankie fucks you through it. His cock brushes every inner part of you, his finger on your clit stopping just to apply pressure that sings from your core.

“Good girl,” he rasps those sweet words, your throat turning sore at the endless panting and use of your voice, your leg falling limp to the mattress after holding it up so long for him. From the corner of your vision you can see him fisting the pillow underneath you, the veins of his hand prominent, the muscles of his forearm tensing.

“Can I—”

“Yes, please, baby, cum inside,” you whimper, his cock pushing in even smoother with the added slick of your orgasm and he mewls at those words, getting a few more rhythmic thrusts in before they turn ragged and he spills into you with a soft shout. His nose burrows into your neck as he tries and fails to catch his breath; you, letting him hold you close as he comes down.

He resumes those featherlight kisses, a line leading up to that spot just behind your ear— warm presses of his lips with no other intention than to feel you.

“Okay?” He manages to ask, so quiet and bashful, even, as he feels his cum trickle out of you and onto his lap.

“Mhm,” you smile, finally able to turn in his hold, and the sight of him makes you want to do it all over again; his flushed face, his wide, dark eyes looking back at you in admiration, the disheveled state of his button up. The sleeves pushed up to his elbows are all crinkled, and you let your thumb run over the edge of the fabric before feeling your way up his arm. He smiles, a sleepy state of contentment taking over him and he pulls you onto his chest, keeping you safe, a hand on the back of your head.

The patterns of your breathing match, in and out, slowing down, his heartbeat losing speed under your ear.

He makes a happy noise when you place a chaste kiss on his collarbone, the rain picking up outside, washing down the window behind the see-through curtains. He taps the small of your back three times, and you know this is him telling you he loves you, a tap for each word; so you kiss him three more times, two kisses on those smooth spaces where hair refuses to grow, and once on his lips which he returns gratefully.

Drawing the comforter up over your shoulders, he ensures it’s snug over the two of you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “you deserve it.”

+ taglist: @filthybookworm​ @frannyzooey​ @omgreally​ @kjim16 @anatanotegami​ @redkenobi​ @yeliahk @acrabbybish​​ @battletales​​ @catsnkooks​​ @mitchi-c​​ @xcertaindarkthingsx​​ @ihavenoaesthetic​ @belleropho-n​​ @i-love-marble-hornets​​ @trollsarenotwelcome​​ @tossacoin2yourwitcher​​ @lycheemi​​ ​ @jennacide02 @astroboots​​ @wigwitch​​ @buckypascal​​ @altarsw​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @agent-catfish-kenobi​ @leonieb​ @sleep-tight1​

Ohhh ok something that partially happened while I was working at a garage. Mechanic frankie catching you after you trip when coming to look at your car. He apologises for getting your clothes dirty but of course he is forgiven as how could you not when he offers you dinner to make up for it

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

Warnings: I mentioned that mechanic!frankie is a widower and he talks about his wife briefly here.

A/N: I’m writing this as a continuation to this.

“What seems to be the problem today, ma’am?” Frankie asked playfully as you got out of your car. You thought for a moment then smiled at him.

“Oil change?” You shrugged.

“Are you asking or telling me?” he teased, chuckling when you made a face. “You know, I think this is the third time you’ve brought your car in for an oil change,” he joked.

“Frankie...”

“I know, I know.” He smiled and watched as you walked toward him. Suddenly his smile fell when you took a wrong step and went falling. He caught you just in time--his arms wrapped around you and his hands pressed to your back.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “Some meet-cute, huh?” You hoped he never let go, but he had to. He made a face as you stood up straight again. “What?”

“Shit...I’m sorry.” He gestured to your shirt which was now smudged with the motor oil and whatever else from the front of his coveralls. “I’ll, uh, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

“Frankie, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a shirt. I didn’t exactly dress for tripping and falling into your arms today,” you said with a smile.

“Well, if you won’t let me do that for you at least let me make you dinner.” As he expected, you looked at him, shocked. “Yes, I can cook. And don’t worry, I make sure my hands are clean first.” He held up his greasy hands and you laughed.

“Tonight?” you asked and he nodded. “So...does this count as that date we’re supposed to go on?”

“If you want it to.”

“More than anything,” you said in a breathy tone that you quickly covered up by clearing your throat. 

“Okay great,” he said happily and you stared at him. “Uh...”

“I need your address.”

“Oh! Right. You can follow me over here.” He looked back, “Just watch your step.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.”

He wrote down his address and passed you the piece of paper. “That’s me. What time is good for you?” he asked.

“Whatever time is good for you. I know you need time to get home and cook and stuff so you tell me.”

“7:30 good?” he suggested.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you then.” You turned and started to walk away.

“I promise your shirt will stay clean unless you’re a messy eater or something,” he called behind you.

You stopped and turned to him again. “You’re full of jokes today, aren’t you? Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself.” He nodded as you waved goodbye and got into your car. One of his workers cleared his throat and when Frankie turned to him, he was grinning. “All right. Get back to work.” He threw a rag at him and went into his office.

You sat in the car in front of his house for a few minutes before getting out and walking to his door. When he opened it, his smile grew and so did his dimple--something you found completely endearing.

“You’re here,” he said, welcoming you inside.

“Did you think I wouldn’t show?” you asked as you looked around.

“I don’t know but I’m happy you’re here.” He stood there for a moment. “I would offer to take your coat, but you don’t have one.” You sensed what was wrong right away.

“When’s the last time you had someone come over for dinner?” you asked.

“Uh...long time. Obvious, huh?” He laughed awkwardly.

You put your hands on his arms. “It’s okay, Frankie.”

“Yeah...yeah, you’re right. Can I get you anything? I have whiskey, wine, and beer...unless you just want some water or soda.”

“I’m fine for now.” You took a deep breath. “Whatever you’re making smells delicious.”

“Thanks. Still got about ten minutes. Is that okay? You don’t mind waiting?”

“Not at all.” You finally took your hands from his arms.

“Make yourself comfortable. Shout if you need anything.” He walked to the kitchen and you began walking around the living room. It was very simple and neat and he obviously had a dog judging by the box of toys in the corner. You walked over to the small fireplace and looked at the pictures on the mantle. You giggled at the one of him when he was young, smiling brightly, with the same dimple present.

“You were in the military?” you asked loudly enough for him to hear as you picked up the photo of him in his BDU.

“Yup, army,” he responded.

You replaced a photo and looked at the next one--it was of a beautiful woman with a lovely smile.

“She died,” Frankie said and you turned to face him. “My wife. Three years ago now.”

“I’m sorry, Frankie.” You turned to put the photo back then touched it gently. “She was beautiful.”

“Yeah...dinner’s served,” he said with a small smile. You walked over and touched his arm. He led you into the kitchen and pulled a chair out for you.

“Thank you.”

“Drink?” He waited for your answer.

“I’ll take a beer,” you said and he nodded. Little by little, you were making your way into his heart--a heart he had guarded for three years. He placed the bottle in front of you and you thanked him. “Now, are you gonna tell me what we’re having?”

“It’s Chilean Ajiaco,” he said as he sat down. “Tell me what you think.”

“Okay...” You picked up your spoon then looked back up only to see Frankie watching you. “You’re really gonna watch me do this, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Fine.” You ate a spoonful, closing your eyes at the taste. “Okay...wow!” The serious look on Frankie’s face changed to a smile.

“Good?” he asked and you nodded. “Ha!”

“Excuse my language but this is fucking delicious, Frankie.” You took another spoonful and he chuckled.

“I’m glad you think so.”

Over dinner, you two talked about everything from your childhood to his time in the military. You found out he was a helicopter pilot and was an only child. When he began cleaning up, you found yourself looking at him and enjoying the way he looked without his coveralls...again. He nearly caught you looking a few times.

“Need some help?” you asked.

“I’ll wash ‘em later. Want another beer? We can continue our conversation in the living room...if you want.”

“Sure.”

He grabbed two more beers and walked into the living room with you, sitting on the large sofa. You joined him there as he opened your beer for you.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this,” you confessed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. You wanna know something else?” you asked and he lifted his eyebrows. “This is probably the best first date I’ve ever had.”

He scoffed. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it. The food was delicious, the company was...great. Thank you for this.” You lifted your beer and he carefully tapped his bottle against yours.

When it came time for you to leave, you both lingered at the door. You stood outside while he casually leaned against the doorframe.

“You good to drive?” he asked.

“I only had two beers, Frankie,” you reminded him.

“I’m still allowed to worry,” he said.

“Thanks again. I had so much fun.” You hesitated for a minute. “Maybe next time I can cook for you.”

“Next time? You...wanna do this again?” He pointed between the two of you.

“I do.” You stood there for a moment before moving closer and hugging him. “I really do.”

“Oh...” When he hugged back, you had never felt safer in your life. You pulled back a little and looked at him before moving in slowly and kissing the corner of his lips.

“Goodnight Frankie.”

“Goodnight,” he said quietly. He waited until you drove away to go inside, touching the corner of his mouth gently and smiling excitedly. 

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow--3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug @pascalpanic

permanent taglist: @magicsuperheroes @feelmyroarrrr @the-dazzling-urbanite @phoenixhalliwell @liveloudwriteloud @tumblogbykarapaloma @jaime1110 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @pascal-isaac @dazedrhapsody @pascalisthepunkest @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @tiffdawg @freak-of-nature2002 @kingpascals @saltywintersoldat @theocatkov @mandilflorian @cyaredindjarin @themarcusmoreno @the-feckless-wonder @loki-098 @arabellathorne @dindisneydjarin @punkpascal @opheliaelysia @takens-world @huliabitch @stardelic @kandomeresbitch @havenforafrazzledmind @thisis-theway @stardust-galaxies @mrsparknuts @jedi-mando @frankiemorales @edencherries @lilkermit14 @virtualxjournality @thirstworldproblemss @emesispo @heresathreebee @tangledlove27 @marvgrrl @hayley-the-comet @insoucianttt @witchyavenger @coaaster @starless-eyes-remain @wanderlustmags @wonderfulfluffer @lv7867 @pedropasscals @pedroepascal @wigwitch @seasonschange-butpeopledont @theoria850 @roxypeanut @autumnleaves1991-blog @kenedyybrooklin @artsymaddie @dindjareen @silverfish-kingdom @heyitmelexie @gredandfeorgesgirl @mandaloriandindjarin @moonlight-prose @rosiefridayrogersunday @ssppoorrkk @amalie-buch @lucifer- @mstgsmy @randomness501 @darthadeline @youarenewformetoo @thehippiequilter @whovian-gurl @neverlandlibrarian @chibi-liz05 @dragons-of-the-usa @over300books @borderlinedindjarin @mudhornchronicles @cosmoschick @linkpk88 @lovingramsey @djvrins @escapedthesarlacc @coni-martina @pedrospunk @burrshottfirstt @jitterbugs927 @xserenax-13 @anatanotegami @doin-stuff @djarinsruni @aerolanya @icanbeyourjedi @bison-writes @strangelittlenobody @dinsbeskar @sarahjkl82-blog @neontiiger @houseofthirst @intu-witch-tion @ennuiandthebourgeoisie @littlebopper96 @boxdyeblonde @empressamidala @myheart-pedro @mtjoi @purplepascal042 @goalkeepernerd @rebelliouscat @leaiorganas @eternallyvenus @mandocrest @kellyozz @the-wishmonger @maythxthirstbxwithyou @andiebell2023 @moonlightburned @videogamesandpoorlifechoices @leonieb @freeshavocadoooo @auroraariza @kalimont83 @notabotiswear @martellthemandalor @beesting77 @medeasmiles @diaryofkali @mando-amando @venusdjarin @mystical-934 @blackmarketmummy @hauntedmama @mamacitapascal @insomniamamma

i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

tuesday again 8/24/21

stumbling ever closer to the end of the summer

listening two song week bc i took a break for most of the summer and my brain will not be happy unless we end up with fifty two songs in the playlist at the end of the year

Frankie Valli and the Four Season’s “Beggin” this has inexplicably gotten popular again mostly bc of a fairly uninspired remix (not the good maneskin one a weird club one)? i prefer the original bc i am secretly my grandmother

Ghost Quartet’s “Any Kind Of Dead Person” here let me just drop some lyrics in here they’re impeccable

If you could be a bird/What kind of bird would you be?

A robin

If you could be a cat/ What kind of cat would you be?

A lion

If you could be a part of breakfast/What part of breakfast would you be?

The piece of toast

And if you could be a dead guy/What kind of dead guy would you be?

I'd

be

a

ghost

reading: i have a really odd tendency to self-censor when i’m journaling, certain that one day when i’m dead and can’t defend myself someone will decipher my messy scrawl and find out…i don’t know…i held deeply unflattering opinions of many people and things??? in my private uncensored journals??? anyway whenever i think “ugh i liked this but i can’t talk about it on the tuesdaypost bc it’s not Perfect and i don’t want to deal with Discourse” that usually means i should double down and talk about it. this is usually followed by the urge to provide a list of everything that i think it doesn’t do well in order to…again, idk… provide some sort of fair and balanced review in this free blog post about what i happened to do this week. anyway, this is all very stupid.

i am terribly fond of the works of brandon graham. they have the kind of background detail and pleasingly blobby shapes that you can luxuriate in and he knows how to draw a hot lady real good. machinery abstracted just enough, sprawling cityscapes, and good maps also. catnip for me. “rain like hammers: sky cradle” (256p, published by image this year) is mr graham space-opera-ifiying going through some shit. it is extremely difficult to explain what the fuck this thing is about or really give much detail. there is a lovely quiet first issue that (you realize much later) does a fuckton of legwork setting up everything. here have two of the more abstract pages that delight my very soul

watching: gently chugging through star w/ars rebels. i think the ep with the prototype b-wing is pretty neat bc i’m a sucker for a weird goddamn airfoil. LOOK at this thing. the pilot’s cockpit is GYROSCOPIC. the rest of the damn craft just whips around it

playing: trying to do a new “no gaming on the weekends” thing in order to have a better work-life boundary but also i’ve just been fuckin busy

making: continually unpacking 🙃 whacked together one out of three bookcases and realized i need to replace the other two which is deeply irritating

War makes thieves, and peace hangs them (pt1)

Summary: When Santi needs people for a mission he knows just who to call. But it quickly becomes apparent they’re short one key role - a thief. Preferably one with nice breasts who makes friends easily.

Told from POV of Triple Frontier characters and while it’s an OFC she is never described. Her "name" is a radio handle. 

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2319. Read it on AO3.

Author’s note: Look, I’ve been itching to write something hella raunchy and while I love my other fics they’re full of soft people being dorks and falling love. This is not that. This is filthy smut basically from the go. The plot (what of it there is) exists solely to allow these people to have sex. Also, Fuck Tom. He’s in this fic for like 90 seconds before I summarily get rid of him.

Rating: R swearing. objectification. drugs (mentioned, not used). gendered slurs. no sex in this chapter.

"It’s a five man job," Santi was saying it for the third time that night but Benny just kept shaking his head at him. Across from Benny, Frankie pushes his ball cap off, tossing his arm over his chair and letting it dangle from two fingers.

"C’mon you guys," Frankie starts to say but is cut off.

"Maybe, but not this five," Will points out.

"You had no right to call in someone else without talking to me," Santi can feel the edge to his voice.

"Am I wrong?"

The question deflates the irritation out of Santi. No, he wasn’t. That was the shitty part. The more they found out about this job the more he realized they were going to need someone with a different skillset than the five of them. "Fine, who is he? How do you know him?"

"We ran into each other in South Africa. Ended up on the same job, different sides," Benny taps a finger against his beer bottle. "A few other, less than legal, follow-ups. They’re the best I know of Santi."

"Yeah," Santi picks his bottle up, draining the last of it. "But all things considered I’m not sure that means much."

Benny rolls his eyes. "Whatever man, they’ll be here tonight. I’ll introduce you and you can make your own decision. Fair?"

Santi nods once and watches as Benny gets up. "I’ll get the next round." The other men waggle their beers and Benny doesn’t even bother counting before heading off the empty outside patio and back into the bar.

It was a quiet night, at a quiet out of the way bar. From their vantage on the patio over the water they can see people as they arrive, but also are surrounded on three sides by water, minimizing eavesdroppers.

"I don’t like it," Tom grumbles and Santi turns to him.

"I feel like we’ve covered that," he points out.

"Some new guy we don’t know? Fuck Pope, this whole thing is already too dangerous," Tom continues.

"What do you want me to do," he hisses. "I’ve come too fucking far to back out-"

He pauses when he hears the door to the patio open, a waitress coming through with a tray of beers. He’d clocked her from the corner of his eye, about eight miles of the longest legs he’s ever seen in his life, bare from tiny denim shorts down to a pair of unlaced combat boots.

Those were odd. Not necessarily what he would have expected. He studies her a bit more closely as she sets the tray of beers down, squatting next to the table to transfer the tray from her shoulder to the table. Tom had already fallen face first into the girl’s cleavage - which was either ample or benefitting greatly from being on display in a bright orange halter top that started somewhere around her rib cage. She returned Tom’s lascivious stare with a wink, brushing her body against the man’s as she stood back up and passed one of the bottles to him.

Santi reached for one but was blocked by her body as she leaned across the table, sliding a bottle to Frankie who rubbed a hand over his mouth and tried in vain to make eye contact with something other than her breasts. Will was silent on receiving his, a half smile on his face as he watched her stretch a bottle to him. Finally she turns to Santi, placing the last beer in front of him and flipping the tray up under her arm.

"Tu amigo pagó," she smiles, gesturing with her chin inside. He glances that way and sees Benny nodding back from the bar, tucking bills into his wallet. "Tienes algo…" she starts to say and he turns back to see her pluck a bit of fuzz off the collar of his shirt. Smiling, she pinches it between her fingers and flicks it over his shoulder. "De nada."

"Gracias," he winks at her and she winks back before flouncing off the patio and back into the bar. Both Frankie and Tom turn around fully in their chairs to watch her - but Santi was perfectly positioned to watch the sway of her ass as she went back inside.

"Hot damn," Tom gives a low whistle.

Santi rolls his eyes, focusing on the beer in front of him. To his left, Frankie is fiddling with a coaster before he suddenly jerks and looks at his hand with suspicion.

"What the fuck?" Frankie snaps. "Where the fuck is my hat?"

"What?" Will asks.

"My hat. My fucking hat." Frankie holds up the coaster and glares at it, then at Santi. "Where is my fucking hat?"

"Did you set it-" Santi starts but Frankie cuts him off.

"I was holding it in my goddamn hand. And now I’m not." Frankie pushes himself back from the table, peering under it.

"What’s got Fish riled up?" Benny asks, sliding into a chair on the other side of the table.

"He’s throwing a fit about his hat," Will fills him in.

"Fuck you, I liked that hat," Frankie grouses, eyes still scanning the floor.

Ben laughs and Frankie shoots him a dirty look. "Ah, I see you’ve met our thief then," Benny says with a satisfied smirk.

"What?" Frankie jerks forward, the legs of his chair hitting the wood of the deck with a thunk.

Santi cocks his head, "You set up a little audition did you?" When Benny nods Santi grins. "The waitress?" Will nods again and gestures to someone inside. A minute later, the woman pulls up a chair next to Ben - wearing Frankie’s hat. He had to admit, she looked cute. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her face before, a little preoccupied with other parts of her, but she was quite stunning.

"You should give Frankie his hat back," Santi tells her in a low voice.

"Nah," Frankie quickly interjects, a little slack-jawed. "You can uh… you can keep it. For a bit." She grins at Frankie and judging from the look on his friend’s face, Santi had an idea of what mental image Frankie would be jerking off to later that night.

"Boys, this is Wildcat," Ben wraps an arm over the woman’s shoulders, "the best thief I’ve ever met. And ours for this mission."

"Neat trick with the hat," Tom says to her breasts.

"Not to burst your bubble Benny," she turns to him, "but I can’t take the job."

"What? Why not?"

She reaches into her top and while Santi would have sworn that you couldn’t fit so much as a tic-tac in there she manages to pull out a small baggie of off-white crystal powder. A flick of her wrist and it lands in the middle of the table. "I don’t deal with this kind of shit."

Santi reaches for it, getting there just before Tom who mutters 'bitch' under his breath. Holding it up for a moment he studies it before hiding it under his palm on the table. "Who’d you take it from?"

"Me," Tom sounds defeated.

"Yeah, like I said, I don’t deal with this kind of shit." She turns to Benny and shrugs, "Sorry babe, you’ll have to find someone else." She gets up, leaning over the table and placing the ball cap back on Frankie’s head and giving it a flirtatious tap. From his angle, Santi can see practically the same view as Frankie, as well as the line of her back and the curve of her ass as she leans over.

She kisses the top of Ben’s head when she stands up, giving Tom a wide berth and going around the table. Santi doesn’t watch her past that, eyes on Tom.

"What the fu-" but he’s interrupted by something shiny dropping onto the table.

"Sorry," her voice was right next to his ear, "forgot this."

It takes Santi a full five seconds to process what he’s seeing. One of his dog tags. He pulls his chain out of his shirt quickly, sees the primary one… and the loose shorter chain hanging empty.

"Son of a-" he turns but she’s at the door already, winking and blowing him a kiss before leaving.

"Pope let me-" Tom starts but Santi turns on him.

"Fucking meth, man? What’s wrong with you?"

"Hey, it’s just a bit to help me keep going," Tom raises his hands, "don’t fucking act like it’s the end of the fucking world."

"You’re out," Santi says it with finality.

"What?"

"Anyone have a problem with that?" Santi looks at the other three men but they all shake their heads.

"Fuck you," Tom spits, "fucking Fish has a coke problem and I don’t see any of you-"

"Hey," Frankie leans forward, pointing a finger at Tom, "you can go fuck yourself."

"Not if I-"

But Santi is on his feet, hands in Tom’s shirt as he walks the man backwards a few steps and shoves him against the low railing on the patio. "I love you man, but I can’t have this shit. It’s too important. Go back to the hotel."

Tom deflates. "It’s just to help man. Just to help."

"I know," he pats Tom on the shoulder. "I know. But you’re gonna have to sit this one out." Santi watches the other man leave. "Go get her back," he tells Ben.

Will swipes the baggie from the table, raising an eyebrow in question and Santi nods. Will quickly turns and tosses it into the lake beyond.

She slid into Tom’s chair without so much as a twitch of her eyebrow that the other man is gone. "Are we trying again?"

Santi sits down to her left. "First tell me how you got my dog tags."

"And my hat," Frankie asks.

"Quick fingers," she says, "two distractions."

"Two?" Frankie asks and she winks at him.

"One. Two." She shrugs each shoulder, making her breasts jiggle with the motion. Frankie blushes and reaches up to cover his face with one hand, pretending to scratch his beard.

"Seriously," Santi grabs her attention again, "how’d you do it?"

She shrugs again, "People don’t watch for the things they should be watching for. You guys… you’re perceptive. Situationally aware. You could probably tell me every weapon within sixty feet of this table." She smiles, "You’ve noticed my hand on your arm, and you’ve noticed my foot against your ankle." He had, was enjoying the feel of her fingers against his skin and her toes rubbing along his sock. "But where is my other hand?"

Santi startles, looking down. Her other hand comes into his line of sight and he sees she’s holding a watch.

"Wait that’s-" Will splutters.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters and hears Ben laugh. He turns on Will, "What were you watching?"

She answers for him, "He’s been watching my mouth." Will coughs but doesn’t deny it. She grins at them both before leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, waggling her fingers. "Figure out where someone wants their attention to go and you can make them concentrate on anything."

Santi bites his lip before he looks over at Benny. "You trust her?" Ben nods. "Then she’ll do."

"Oh goodie," she snarks, "a dream come true. So what’s the job?"

Santi lowers his voice as he outlines the next few days. She asks good questions and the five of them roughly map out their plans. When they finish, Santi leans back in his chair. "So, we’ll meet in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning, 0600?" Everyone around him nods except for Ben who just curses.

"Fucking hell Pope, you know I hate mornings."

Will rolls his eyes, smacking his brother in the arm, "How the hell did you get through Airborne with an attitude like that?"

"By being a damned good Ranger," Ben grouses back.

"And cheating on the written shit," Frankie mumbles into his beer. Ben shoots him a glower but Frankie just smiles to himself, ignoring the other man.

"Well, if you boys are done," Cat breaks in, "I have a date." For just a split second Santi thought she was looking at him, but he follows her gaze over his shoulder and sees a petite brunette wearing a leather mini-skirt and white tank top crooking a finger their way. Cat winks back at her and rises gracefully from the table, palms flat against it. He couldn’t help but notice her long fingers.

When she gets to the other woman she wraps a hand behind her neck, pulling the brunette into a kiss. Even in heels, the woman was a good three inches shorter than her. The brunette breaks the kiss and leans into her, whispering into her ear. Santi sees her eyebrow go up, a half smile, and then she was looking back at their table and those beautiful legs were coming their way.

"Ben?"

"Yes Cat?" the man answers with a raised eyebrow.

"Can you vouch for your friends?"

Benny doesn’t hesitate before answering, "With my life."

"That’s good to hear," she grins. "Frankie?"

The man’s head whips around. "Yeah?"

"Would you like to come with us?"

Frankie blinks and Santi almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

"Wha-?"

"Teresa would like for you to come along. And I’m not opposed. So…?"

Frankie’s moment of confusion passes in a heartbeat and then he is shoving his chair back and scrambling to his feet. "Fuck yes."

She laughs, leading him back to the brunette who is grinning. The brunette wraps one arm around Frankie’s waist and the other around Cat’s as they leave. The three men left at the table watch them go in varying stages of disbelief.

"Lucky son of a bitch," Will mutters and Santi can’t help but nod.

"Some thief you found us Ben," Santi says into his beer as he leans back in his chair.

"She’s the best," Ben grins back. Part2

London playlist

London - since 43 AD it has to be one of the more fascinating cities on Earth. Such a rich history. From Shakespeare Theatre to the music from there today. I just had to put a London playlist together. From Soho to Brixton, from Highgate to Clapham  what a collection of songs! It’s over 350 songs and it could easily expand to 400. **I have a separate England & Wales playlist coming, so, stay tuned for that**.

To play the songs, hit the link right here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_ntP663JhZl-hvn9EwFp9L

ENGLAND & WALES playlist is coming soon! What songs have I left out? Let me know! Add your own songs! Cheers. Pip pip, tally ho!

LONDON 001 Generation X -  Day By Day 002 The Clash - London Calling 003 Austin Powers  - theme song (Soul Bossa? Nova ) 004 The Kinks - Dedicated Follower Of Fashion 005 Killing Joke - Empire Song 006 Black Sabbath - Wicked World 007 The Who - Welcome 008 The Damned - Neat, neat, neat 009 GIRLSCHOOL - LONDON 010 007 theme song 011 Motorhead - Motorhead 012 Wire - Ex Lion Tamer 013 David Bowie - Maid of Bond Street 014 The Misfits - London Dungeon 015 Rolling Stones - 016 The Adverts - Bored Teenagers 017 Siouxsie & The Banshees -  Spellbound 018 Penny Dreadful - Soundtrack - Main Theme 019 Eurythmics - Love Is A Stranger 020 The Cure - Subway Song 021 Adam And The Ants -  Puss 'n' Boots 022 Iron Maiden - 22 Acacia Avenue 023 COIL - Fire of the mind 024 Public Image Ltd - One Drop. 025 LUSH - Breeze 026 Bliss Signal - Surge 027 The Pogues - Misty Morning, Albert Bridge 028 PhD - Won't Let You Down 029 Birthday Party - Hats On Wrong 030 Eddy Grant - Electric Avenue 031 Help Yourself - Reaffirmation 032 Grave Miasma - Gnosis of the summon 033 Roy Ayers - We Live In London Baby 034 Led Zeppelin - The Rover 035 Gang of Four - What we all want 036 Pet Shop Boys - West End Girl                 037 Sleaford Mods - 6 Horsemen (The Brixtons) 038 Paul Young - Love of the Common People 039 The Saint (original) - Theme 040 The Human League - Dont You Want Me 041 Sex Pistols - God Save The Queen 042 The Beatles - A Day In The Life 043 Def Leppard -  Love bites 044 The Stranglers - Another Camden Afternoon 045 The Kinks  - See My Friends 046 Elton John - Bennie and the Jets 047 Suede - Moving 048 Queen - Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy 049 Cliff Richard & the Shadows - She's Gone 050 The Rolling Stones - Start Me Up 051 Loop - Fade Out 052 Jah Wobble's Invaders Of The Heart - A13 053 The Magnetic Fields - All the Umbrellas in London 054 Wendy Carlos - Title Music From A Clockwork Orange (From Purcell's Music For The Funeral Of Queen Mary) 055 The Police - Every Little Thing she does it Magic 056 Cockney Rejects - The Greatest Cockney Rip Off 057 Spandau Ballet - Spandau Ballet Chant No.1 058 The Pretenders - Middle of the Road 059 The Who - Dogs 060 The Jam - London Girl 061 Cradle of Filth - Hurt and Virtue 062 Joy Division - Isolation 063 Nick Drake - At the Chime of a City Clock 064 Sham 69 - Cockney Kids Are Innocent 065 Deep Purple - Mandrake Root 066 Throbbing Gristle - Hit by a rock 067 David Bowie - Rubber Band 068 Roxy Music  - Do The Strand 069 Slaves - Cheer Up London 070 T. Rex - London Boys 071 Kirsty MacColl - Autumngirlsoup 072 New Model Army - Archway Towers 073 Scorpions - Lovedrive 074 Isaac Hayes - Doesnt Rain In London 075 Peter Tosh - Buk-In-Hamm Palace 076 The Slits - Typical Girls 077 Pharaoh Sanders - Midnight In Berkeley Square (Instrumental) 078 Blue Cheer - Girl From London 079 Sex Pistols - Satellite 080 Judas Priest - (The Hellion ) Electric Eye 081 UFO -  Lights Out 082 Joy Division - Digital 083 Muse - Uprising 084 George Harrison - All Things Must Pass 085 Robert Palmer - Addicted To Love 086 Fine Young Cannibals - Blue 087 New Order - Blue Monday 088 Würzel - Midnight In London 089 Rod Stewart - Gasoline Alley 090 The Wildhearts - Down On London 091 Supertramp - Nothing To Show 092 Motörhead - Metropolis 093 Current 93 - Lucifer Over London 094 The Pogues - Dark Streets of London 095 The Cult - All Souls Avenue 096 The Jam - In The City 097 The Undertones - Teenage Kicks 098 Iggy Pop -  Play It Safe 099 Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Jack the Ripper 100 The Cure  - Lets Go To Bed 101 Suede - Animal Nitrate 102 Wire - field day for the sundays 103 Black Books  TV Show - Opening Theme 104 Paul McCartney & Wings - London Town 105 Madness - Primrose Hill 106 The Troggs  - No. 10 Downing Street 107 Iron Maiden -  Gangland 108 PJ Harvey - The Last Living Rose 109 The Rollers - Soho 110 Electric Wizard - Lucifer's Slaves 111 The Buzzcocks -  Just Lust 112 Doctor Who Theme Tune 1980 113 Cathedral - Fountain Of Innocence 114 Pretenders - Swinging London 115 Hanoi Rocks - Tooting Bec Wreck 116 Es - 'Chemical 117 Bee Gees  - Trafalgar 118 The Peddlers    - Under London Lights 119 Cliff Richard - The Young Ones 120 Big Audio Dynamite - Sightsee M.C   121 ABC - Tower of London 122 Accept - London Leatherboys 123 Pitchshifter - Please Sir 124 Portishead -  We Carry On 125 John Lennon - Whatever Gets You Thru The Night 126 The Lurkers - Ain't Got a Clue 127 Iron Maiden - Die with your boots on 128 Siouxsie and the Banshees - Kiss Them For Me 129 Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - From Her to Eternity 130 The Jam - London Traffic 131 The Cranberries - Waiting In Walthamstow 132 The Kinks - Victoria 133 Heads Hands & Feet - Pete Might Spook The Horses 134 Whitesnake -  Long Way From Home 135 Queensryche - London 136 Concrete Blonde - Walking in London 137 Deep Purple - Fireball 138 The Ruts - dope for guns 139 Wham! - Bad Boys 140 Generation X - One Hundred Punks 141 Joe Jackson - Down To London 142 Anti-Nowhere League - Streets of London 143 The Wildhearts - Shandy Bang 144 David Bowie - The London Boys 145 The Human League - Human 146 Cockney Rejects - East end 147 Dire Straits - Eastbound Train 148 Ian Drury - Hit Me With Your Rhythm Stick 149 Sepultura -  Filthy rot 150 The Jam - Down In The Tube Station At Midnight 151 Fine Young Cannibals - She Drives Me Crazy 152 Purson -  Electric Landlady 153 Black Sabbath -  Tomorrow's Dream 154 The Clash - Guns of Brixton 155 Blood Ceremony - Lord Of Misrule 156 Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life - Penis Song 157 Gentlemans Pistols -  Hustler's Row 158 Frankie Goes To Hollywood - Relax 159 Jethro Tull - Cross Eyed Mary 160 The Yobs - The Ballad of the Warrington 161 Cradle of Filth - Principle Of Evil Made Flesh 162 Bruce Hornsby - The Black Rats Of London 163 Inspiral Carpets - How It Should Be 164 The Jimi Hendrix Experience - Foxy Lady 165 PETULA CLARK - WINCHESTER CATHEDRAL 166 Lush - Olympia 167 Hunters & Collectors - Blind Eye 168 Thompson Twins - Hold Me Now 169 David Bowie - The Man Who Sold the World 170 UK Subs - C.I.D. 171 Queen - Dont Stop Me Now 172 Bruce Dickinson - Accident of Birth 173 the clash - capital radio one 174 UB40 - Here I Am (Come And Take Me) 175 The Meads Of Asphodel - Guts For Sale 176 Horrible Histories: Savage Songs - Boudicca 177 Swallow the Sun - Labyrinth Of London (Horror Pt. IV) 178 Mad Professor  - Ben Gone Wrong 179 Howard Jones - Things Can Only Get Better 180 Genesis - The Battle Of Epping Forest 181 The Damned -  problem child 182 Squeeze  - Cool For Cats 183 Manfred Mann - Belgravia 184 The Bee Gees - Walking Back to Waterloo 185 Pink Floyd - Waiting For The Worms 186 Madness - Victoria Gardens 187 Paradise Lost - Soul Courageons 188 YES  - Roundabout 189 PJ Harvey - This Is Love 190 The Horrors - Jack The Ripper 191 King Crimson - Red 192 The Smiths - How Soon Is Now 193 Level 42 - Heathrow 194 Intaferon - Get Out Of London 195 Burt Bacharach - Bond street 196 David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust 197 The Clash - Londons Burning 198 Killing Joke - Follow The Leaders 199 Saxon - The Court of the Crimson King 200 Buzzcocks - Harmony in My Head 201 Fairport Convention - Fiddlesticks (Peel Session) 202 Napalm Death - Errors In The Signals 203 Empire  - Hot Seat 204 Anathema - Shroud of Frost 205 Pitchshifter - Condescension 206 The Beatles - Hey Jude 207 Affinity - Highgate 208 KLF - 3 A.M. Eternal (Pure Trance) 209 Warren Zevon - Werewolves of London 210 David Axelrod - London 211 The Wombles - Wellington Goes To Waterloo 212 EastEnders Theme 213 Cathedral - Hypnos 164 214 Tom Jones - It's Not Unusual 215 Alan Moore with Tim Perkins - The Highbury Working A Beat Seance 216 Transvision Vamp - Sex Kick 217 Elton John - Tell Me When The Whistle Blows 218 Firebird - Bow bells 219 The Jam - A' Bomb In Wardour Street 220 Caravan  - Waterloo Lily 221 Lord Sutch & Heavy Friends - Flashing Lights 222 David Bowie - Oh! You Pretty Things 223 Hot Chocolate - West End of Park Lane 224 Thames television ident 1984 225 Newtown Neurotics - Living With Unemployment 226 Peter Murphy - Cuts You Up 227 Suede - Metal Mickey 228 Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer 229 Killing Joke - The Gathering 230 Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want 231 Kate Bush - Babooshka 232 Iron Maiden - The Prophecy 233 The Cure - Disintegration 234 The Damned - I Just Can't Be Happy Today 235 WIRE - Silk Skin Paws 236 Brian Eno - Here Come The Warm Jets 237 Souixee & the Banshees - Cascade 238 Jethro Tull - Jeffrey Goes to Leicester Square 239 AC/DC -  Rising Power 240 Alternative TV - Life After Life 241 Napalm Death - Deceiver (Peel Sessions) 242 Electric Light Orchestra - Last Train To London 243 Bucks Fizz - London Town 244 The Sweet - Blockbuster! 245 999 - Bent Cross 246 The Groundhogs - Split, Pt. 1 247 Bow Wow Wow - Go Wild in the Country 248 Blood Ceremony -  Half Moon Street 249 Ming Tea feat. Austin Powers - BBC One 250 Led Zeppelin - Immigrant Song 251 Big Audio Dynamite - EMC2 252 Crass - Banned from the Roxy 253 Sleaford Mods - Chaos Down In SoHo 254 Big Ben Chimes of Westminster, London 255 PJ Harvey - A Place Called Home 256 The Ruts - Staring at the rude boys 257 The Times - Whatever Happened To Thames Beat 258 Quincy Jones - London Derriere 259 Lush - Hypocrite 260 PIL - Reggie Song 261 The Style Council - You're The Best Thing 262 UK Subs - Dirty Girls 263 COIL - Slur 264 Frank Zappa - Dead girls of London 265 Iron Maiden - Prowler 266 The Slits - Difficult Fun 267 Killing Joke -  Kings and Queens 268 Simple Minds - Chelsea Girl 269 Motorhead - Bomber 270 XTC - Towers Of London 271 Blitzkrieg  - Hell to pay 272 Gryphon - Opening Move 273 The Challengers - The Streets of London 274 Peggy March - In Der Carnaby Street 275 The Damned - Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde 276 The Pogues - London You're a Lady 277 The Lords Of The New Church - Portobello 278 Rolling Stones - Hot Stuff 279 Joe Jackson - The Evil Eye 280 The Deviants - Garbage 281 Benny Hill Show  - Wild Women 282 Suzi Quatro - Crash 283 Madness - day on the town 284 SHAKESPEAR'S SISTER -  I Don't Care 285 Whitesnake - Wine Women An Song 286 Pink Floyd - Astronomy Domine 287 Rick Astley - Whenever You Need Somebody 288 Bauhaus - In the flat field 289 Dead Can Dance - In Power We Entrust The Love Advocated 290 Paul McCartney -  Old Siam, Sir 291 Lush - De-Luxe 292 AC/DC - let's get it up 293 Sophia Loren & Peter Sellers - Bangers and mash 294 Black Sabbath - Childfren of the grave 295 Psychic TV - The orchids 296 Miracle - The Strife Of Love In A Dream 297 Carter USM - Lean On Me I Won't Fall Over 298 Screaming Lord Sutch - Jack the Ripper 299 WIRE - the 15th 300 Mott the Hoople - Honaloochie Boogie 301 Soft Machine - The Camden Tandem 302 Are You Being Served Theme 303 CATHEDRAL - Serpent Eve 304 Booker T. & The MG's - Carnaby Street 305 Culture Club - It's A Miracle 306 Motorhead - Nothing Up My Sleeve 307 Killing Joke - Money is not our God 308 Bronski Beat - Smalltown Boy 309 WIRE - Please take 310 Bananarama - Hey young London 311 The Jam - Carnaby Street 312 Catapilla - Charing Cross   313 The Shadows - Chelsea Boot 314 Ride - Chelsea Girl 315 The Damned  - Grimly Fiendish 316 Marillion - Chelsea Monday 317 Slowdive - Celia's Dream 318 The Clash - Gates of the west 319 Thin Lizzy - Half Caste 320 David Bowie -  I dig everything 321  VUUR - Days Go By - London 322 Elvis Costello - [I Don't Want To Go To] Chelsea 323 Uriah Heep - Walking in your shadow 324 Genesis - Invisible Touch 325 Amy Winehouse - Me & Mr Jones 326 Curve - Fait Accompli   327 Silverfish ‎- Crazy 328 Iron Maiden - Killers 329 Killing Joke -  Ghost Of Ladbroke Grove 330 Sex Pistols - Anarchy In The UK 331 Paradise lost - remembrance 332 The Fall - Leave the Capitol 333 The Kinks - Waterloo Sunset 334 WIRE - Keep exhaling 335 The Peddlers - raining in London 336 Motorhead - damage case 337 10cc - Shock On The Tube (Don't Want Love) 338 Swervedriver - Rave Down 339 Spike Milligan - Tower Bridge 340 Phil Lynott - Solo In Soho 341 Adam and the Ants - Plastic Surgery 342 The Who - Pinball wizard 343 Pulp - Mile end 344 Generation X - Running with the Boss Sound 345 OMD - If You Leave 346 PiL - Public Image 347 Monty Python's Flying Circus TV show - theme song 348 Hall & Oates - London, Luck & Love 349 The Horrors - Three decades 350 Cathedral - Midnight Mountain 351 Killing Joke - glitch 352 Judas Priest - The Ripper 353 Air Raid Siren London Blitz 354 Dragonforce - Fury and the storm 355 Elastica - Connection 356 the Psychedelic Furs - Dumb waiters 357 Samantha Fox - Touch me 358 Wang Chung - Dance hall days 359 Kim Wilde - Water on glass 360 Siouxsie and the Banshees - Overground 361 Atomic Rooster - Tomorrow night 362 Fleetwood Mac - My Heart Beat Like a Hammer 363 Rainbow - Self Portrait 364 Billy Ocean - Love really hurts without you 365 Art of Noise - Beat box (division one) 366 Eurythmics - Never Gonna Cry Again 367 Samson - Grime Crime 368 Go West - we close our eyes 369 Ultravox - Saturday Night In The City Of The Dead 370 King Crimson - 21st Century Schizoid Man 371 Visage - Visage 372 Sandy Denny - Let's Jump The Broomstick 373 Brian Eno - Burning Airlines Give You So Much More 374 Fields Of The Nephilim - Blue water 375 Leftfield - Open Up 376 Blancmange - I've Seen The Word 377 Thomas Dolby - Flying north 378 Sisters of Mercy - Temple of love 379 Royal Orchestra - Royal Entrance Queen Elizabeth II 380 Pink Floyd - Goodbye blue sky 666 David Bowie -  London Bye Ta - Ta 

Play the songs here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-iHPcxymC1_ntP663JhZl-hvn9EwFp9L

For Frankie and Alistair, shipping questions 3's for each category please uwu

@bluhawke laughing bc you guys sent these at the exact same time skdhjlshj, like literally the exact same time. I looked away and looked back to both notifications. Thank you both <3 <3

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Leliana definitely knew something was up and kept dropping hints that kind of didn't really help bc they're both a-spec and Leliana's jokes were along the lines of Alistair, hey? 😉😏 while Frankie was like yeah he's pretty neat huh :)

The others didn't necessarily want them to get together or not, they may have not even been fully aware how much they actually did like each other before they got together (especially bc neither Frankie or Alistair really realised either). And by the time it was obvious to the others, they weren't even sure if they were actually already together.

What was their first kiss like?

OK so currently their first kiss is following the Urn of Sacred Ashes! They become pretty close friends quite quickly and have a very friends to lovers feel to their relationship where there's never actually a specific moment they know they like each other, they just gradually realise its more than friends and they're both at that point here but they've never talked about it!

Afterwards they’re back at camp and the two of them wander off from the rest of the group and Frankie asks him about what the Guardian in the Gaunlet said and if he really believes that maybe things would be better if he had died instead of Duncan and Alistair is like maybe /: and she's like well I'm really glad you survived, the world is better with you in it <3 and they make eye contact and there's a Moment™ and then they kiss.

YES i have spent a lot of time thinking abt this and YES its one of the scenes that I'm like hm maybe I should just skip ahead and write this in the multiwarden AU

Who uses cheesy pick-up lines?

I mean it's Alistair, so is this even a real question tbh? 😂 He does it sometimes when he discovered the most ridiculous cheesy pick-up lines because he knows it'll make her laugh <3 this reminds me though I actually have a whole lil ficlet already written specifically about this lmao maybe I should finish editing + posting that

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

They don't have any kids :) they do both love doting on Endrin though (A+ aunt and uncle here!)

They do have two mabari though! Frankie is always disappointed that Dog liked Shayla better than her and is constantly trying to earn the dog's love more and one day at the end of the Blight, Dog marches in with a mabari puppy she's found from somewhere and drops it on Frankie's pillow and then comes back with another one for Alistair's bed <3

ship questions

Fanfiction Writer Appreciation Day

The loveliest people have been tagging me in these and I need to show some love, too!!

@ollypopp​: Hello, I’m a little bit in love with Olly. She’s such a great, intelligent person and she’s the one to go to if you want INCREDIBLY written Mando fics. She also writes for other Star Wars characters!!

@flightlessangelwings​: Jey is not only incredibly cool and gorgeous, but writes lots of Mando and Frankie, and there’s also Billy Russo in there if you are a fan of The Punisher/Ben Barnes!!

@thirsty-flygirl​: Laurie is kind and loving and she writes a really amazing Poe and Javi that NEED to be read, y’all!!

@woakiees​: Hadley knows things about me nobody else does and I love her for not outing me LMAO. She writes Poe, First!Order Poe, Santi, and more, and she writes like she belongs in 1864 but with a modern twist. Absolute poetry right there. Definitely read her fics.

@poeticandors​: Sweet, sweet Kami who always doubts herself despite writing amazing stories. Her Moulin Rouge AU with Poe is my F A V O R I T E and she wrote an amazing Cassian fic as well as a bunch of other fics! Kami is beautiful in every single way.

@damerondjarin​: Taylor may be in butt jail, but she’s such a kind, sweet person who writes so well. Your one stop shop for Oscar and Pedro characters!

@agentpike​: Bri is my little baby hoe and she writes with such talent and sweetness that you must read her fics. Marcus Pike would fall in love with her the moment he met her.

@yougottakeeponkeepinon​: Amanda, you are a better person than I could ever dream of being. You also write so many characters with such clear, in character distinction and I love that about you, please read her things!

@darksideofclarke​: LISTEN I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU WRITE SO MANY CHARACTERS BUT YOU DO AND IT’S AMAZING AND you are a hoe like me!!

@damndamer0n​: Looking at Ty is like looking at my own soul and it’s crazy because I never thought anyone could understand. Other than that, she writes smuts and even ordinary paragraphs with such beauty, and detail, and realness, and good characterization, I’m always amazed. I’m sure you all know Ty, but I need to talk about her anyway. Read her fics, please.

@mylifeliterally​: My opera baby!! I love you!! Please read her fics if you haven’t bc they are SO sexy and I need to read them all too!! Such a good writer.

@huliabitch​: Even though all of Julia’s subposts are about me, I still love her and need to read her fics bc her headcanons are FABULOUS. You all need to read and follow her.

@maxlordd​: Soybean 1 is a theatre kid with a gift for writing and you should probably read her fic. Also she’s funny sometimes I GUESS.

@perropascal​: Apparently I’m her fav hoe so I’m obligated to put her on here also she’s a good writer and also a hoe!! <3 Love ya.

@shadow-assassin-blix​: I don’t know how you come up with such great ideas all the time but you do and I think that’s neat. Follow her!!

@propertyofpoeandbucky​: Lani, you are what I read before I even joined Tumblr with this blog and even if your interests change, you are still amazing! Everyone probably follows her but please do so if you don’t!!

Very important mentions bc we’re not as close as I’d like to be but I think you’re all incredible writers and people:

@pedropasscals​ @beskars​ @qveenbvtch​ @cinewhore​ @rzrcrst​ @spacegayofficial​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @themandadlorian​ @starryeyedstories​ @writefightandflightclub​ @softpedropascal​ 

orphydice

two birds (regina spektor)

they’re both songbirds!! i just love the imagery. also the whole ‘one won’t follow the other’ thing is SO true of eurydice when she first meets orpheus - she doesn’t want to settle down, she doesn’t even want to be with him just for the summer at first, she does not want to let go of the wire

talk (hozier)

i mean. it’s literally got orpheus/eurydice imagery in it. but also the lyric “i'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how i'm imagining you” is like the whole ‘don’t come on too strong’/’come home with me?’ thing, so it definitely belongs on here

i really like you (carly rae jepsen)

orpheus wants to marry eurydice from the moment he sees her. i’m not sure there’s a song that (realistically) captures that feeling better than this

follow you (bring me the horizon)

“you could drag me through hell/if it meant i could hold your hand” the whole theme of bargaining for something, also they literally walk through hell together. isn’t that neat?

i will follow you into the dark (death cab for cutie)

orpheus literally does? king shit

i was an island (john-allison weiss)

eurydice!! she’s a lone wolf, she knows she’s better off making her way alone, but in orpheus she finds something she wants to stay and fight for. i’m soft

wolf (skott)

“i’m good when you are around” is like the whole “just walk beside me, love/any way the wind blows” thing

love like you (rebecca sugar)

“i always thought i might be bad/now i’m sure that it’s true/’cause i think you’re so good/and i’m nothing like you” vs. “who am i that i should get to hold you?”

the power of love (frankie goes to hollywood)

the kind of feeling of it being you and your love against the world? also “when the chips are down, i’ll be around”

licking an orchid (yves tumor)

"i can be the only girl for you/wanna hold you closer/can i take you home?/i wanna be the one to hold you closer/than no one has ever done before" and "baby, please come home/i swear i'll love you dearly/no one can hold you closer/please come home"

snowflake (kate bush)

this one is titled under ‘songs for eurydice to die to’. it just reminds me a lot of 'i'm gone, i'm gone'

love is a losing game (amy winehouse)

the feeling of powerlessness... that their love is doomed from the start, and that the circumstances that drive them apart are issues of pride with the gods. “it’s a tragedy/it’s a sad song/but we sing it anyway” sort of thing

summer girl (haim)

“the fears inside your heart as deep as gashes/you walk beside me, not behind me/feel my unconditional love”

the coroner’s gambit (the mountain goats)

“when death came calling today/i heard the gentle grace of his cadences”

“i couldn't say no/and i'm sorry i couldn't/do you know how badly i wanted to/didn't want, didn't want, didn't want/didn't want, didn't want to lose you/but his smile was dazzling/and his eyes were sparkling”

‘gone, i’m gone’ except it’s by the mountain goats

fanfic asks: G,U,I,L,T,Y

Okay first of all, your choice of word is hilarious lol Let’s dive in!

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

There is the odd time that I write a scene out of order, but 99.5% of the time, it’s fully in order. I know there’s nothing stopping my from writing whatever order I want, but I have such a hard time doing it. It’s like my brain is worried that I’ll add something into the earlier scene when I write it later, that should come up in the later scene I wrote earlier... it’s a mess in here lol

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@concussed-to-pieces is definitely one. Atlas’ worlds are just so developed, the stories are long enough to keep you invested for a good while, without getting bored or feeling like you’re there for too long. I read their stories back when I was in the wrestling fandom, and when I came into the Pedro fandom, I was so excited to follow their storytelling into this new fandom.

@scribbledghost who is the queen of Whiskey in my books. Also, the “invention” of the Marcus x Reader x Whiskey dynamic that just lives in my head rent free. The Multiverse series specifically is just so neat, and I’m super invested. Also, they have headcanons for just about anything, so if you’re feeling a certain way, check out the page and find something to suit your mood.

@frannyzooey between the brothel AU with Din and the Box Set series with Frankie... they’re just delivering that good good content lol Idk what else to say other than that.

And again, these are just 3 of the favorite - I love so, so many more!

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)?

I love reading “damsel in distress” fics. Like, a reader that is physically in peril and is saved by the hero. Unnnnf. I think that’s what I would consider my biggest “guilty” pleasure, cause I hate how much I love it lol Give me a kidnapped reader anyday of the week.

Also A/B/O is a huge guilty pleasure for me. I admit to liking it a bit... but like, it’s a tip of the iceberg thing for me. Like really, it’s almost a soulmate AU with more feral and horny undertones lol

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I try to read it over at least once before posting, just to make sure it flows or to catch any continuity errors. If it’s “important” (ie: a gift to someone, or a chapter of a longer fic) I may look over it a few times.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

Honestly, none come to mind off the top of my head. There’s lots of stuff that isn’t to my personal tastes, but not a lot that I can’t stand. Like Mpreg is kinda weird to me, but it is what it is and I just don’t read those, yunno?

Y: A character you want to protect.

There is so much angst that lives in my heart that the characters that I want to protect the most are also the ones I want to hurt the most! I’m evil, I know lol The closest I can think is Marcus Pike. I might give him a bit of angst, but I want that bby boy to thrive and get the love he deserves.

List of asks here!

Contingent

con·tin·gent (adj.) Dependent on; conditional.

There's only one thing Trafalgar Law is truly afraid of.

(Or: Bepo will be damned if he loses Law just when he got him back.)

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Nakamaship, Amber Lead Syndrome, Medical Inaccuracies, Childhood Trauma, Law whumps well and I have no excuse

Set between Zou and Wano. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

To say the Polar Tang is a tight fit is an accurate, if unfortunate, assessment.

Years ago, the shipwright they commissioned to make their submarine-turned-ship a reality had cautioned them about the limited capacity. Back in the North Blue, the logistics of cramming more than two dozen people into close quarters with high-pressure machinery seemed a far-away problem at best.

That was long before Jean Bart entered the picture, patient as their helmsman had been to accommodate the narrow spaces of his new home. The nightshift Uni and Clione had pulled to present him with a set of his very own Heart Pirates-branded overalls the next day probably had something to do with it, too.

And maybe it’s because they haven’t had guests in a while (or at least, none that were conscious enough to count), or that Law’s paranoia has rubbed off on Bepo more than he likes to admit… When their mismatched group of allies take the first step on deck, Bepo is watching them like a hawk.

The fact of the matter is: Bepo loves the Tang. They all do. She’s the one that carried them from the North’s frigid waters all the way into the New World. She’s the best. All they – pirates and samurai alike – give her are curious glances, though, neither overly positive nor notably negative as they follow Trafalgar Law into the bowels of his submarine.

Well, with exception of that Strawhat cyborg, Franky. The moment they’re inside he’s gone, fawning over metal walls and neatly-welded seams like they’re the delicate linework of an artist; all Ikkaku can do to prevent any damage to her baby is to run after him. Her harsh reminders to be careful grow fainter and fainter as the rest moves on.

Ikkaku was against this whole alliance thing and yet, Bepo assumes it’s only a matter of time until their chief engineer is charmed, too. It’s one of those inevitable things that tend to happen around the Strawhats.

In any case, Law doesn’t seem bothered and so Bepo isn’t, either. It’s not like the captain lets them dwell on it for long, anyways – he shuffles their guests into the galley like a goose herds its chicks and gives Penguin a handful of minutes to organize some snacks for everyone before the crew is called to the control room. In one big gulp, Bepo swallows the rest of his sandwich and off he goes.

He gets there just as Law emerges from the captain’s cabin in a fresh change of clothes and still-moist hair. “Ready?”, Law asks him, looking worn out still but sounding excited by his own standards, and Bepo nods with a fanged grin.

“Ready, Captain.”

The tanks are flooded and the engine purrs below their feet. From there, the Heart Pirates flit in and out and around Trafalgar Law like blood cells under a microscope and Bepo?

Bepo stands by Law’s side, one eye on the Log Pose and the other on the currents, and feels his pulse even out. There’s nothing like home.

The Tang quiets to a comforting hum once the course is set and optimal velocity is achieved, a background noise as familiar to Bepo as the cadence of Law’s voice. The residual heat from the engine room is making everyone but Bepo sweat in their suits, and he’d feel smug about it if his paws and nose weren’t wet with perspiration too–

It’s then that he remembers their allies, more specifically the only people without proper gear to be in a submerged submarine, and Bepo curses his own neglect under his breath for all of a second. By that point Bart is already letting go of the helm to pat Bepo's head, an automatic gesture of comfort.

“I told them to wait”, he says and shrugs a bit sheepishly because, as it turns out, the Strawhats actually listened. Bepo finds them lounging around one of the tables, just where they left them; the three from Wano Country are huddled in the corner a bit further away, heads stuck together to catch up. The Strawhats are in the middle of a round of some card game, it seems, even if their expressions are serious enough to make Bepo wonder if there’s more to it. He hovers in their periphery, hesitant to interrupt.

Suddenly, Nico Robin looks up and smiles. Usopp groans, throwing his hand away.

“I give up! You’re impossible, Robin. Impossible.”

“Bear”, Zoro greets him, gaze sliding lazily from his cards to Bepo. “You any good at Continental?”

“Uh”, Bepo replies intelligently. Conti-what? A glimpse at the cards Robin plays doesn’t reveal any epiphanies to him, either. “Sorry. I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a card game from the East Blue”, Robin explains while she holds out a patient hand for Zoro’s cards as well. It’s one summoned by her powers, not that Zoro seems to mind as he rolls his eye and relinquishes the (presumably bad) hand he had. “Nami is a real devil at it.”

Usopp leans far back in his chair. “Playing this without her to knock out Robin early on is hopeless”, he adds with a dramatic sigh.

Bepo’s ears twitch in interest. Nami, their navigator? “Ah. Perhaps you can show me–” The sentence crashes into the realization that he's letting himself be distracted, again. “Later! Show me later. You guys need suits, and a tour around the– Wait, where’s Franky?”

Robin chuckles rather fondly. “Don’t mind him”, she tells Bepo, “Franky is easily excitable by the prospect of a new ship to tinker with”, and before Bepo can feel put out by her just deciding that, she glances over Bepo’s shoulder. A pause, pensive.

“I can reel him in, though. Your ship, your rules, Mr. Traffy.”

A huff confirms Law’s presence behind him a moment before he puts a hand on Bepo’s elbow, undemanding. Out of habit, Bepo nudges their shoulders together to acknowledge his captain properly and Law’s fingers tighten, once.

“Better get it out of Franky's system now, I suppose. We’re still close enough to the surface that an explosion or two won’t kill us all.”

Law’s voice is utterly deadpan and it’s most certainly a joke – Robin is snickering good-naturedly, too – but Bepo still gives his captain a look. These are the Strawhats they’re talking about.

Law just shakes his head, a movement so subtle it might as well not exist at all. Bepo lets out a breath. No sudden deaths by drowning today, how nice.

“As Bepo said: You need suits and a tour. Wano people, you too. Zoro, you need a guide.”

“Oi.”

“Hey, why the suits?”

That last one comes from Usopp, and Bepo opens his mouth to offer a perfectly rational answer–

“So the Tang doesn’t boil you alive”, Law says and gives them a sweet smile. It drops off his lips immediately. “Any other questions? I’ll send Uni over for your measurements. He’s the guy with the bandana. Shachi will show you around. Bepo, a word?”

Bepo nods along and… Huh?

As first mate, tour duty should fall onto him – after all, it’s a good way for him to gauge who exactly they invited into their home – but something in Law’s tone makes Bepo’s instincts perk up and pay attention and oh, Law hasn’t let go of his elbow yet.

Bepo doesn’t have time to ask his captain what’s wrong before blue engulfs them both and the world shifts around them.

*

Shambles is a mixture of falling and being held; for Bepo, the unique feeling of Law’s powers is a long-kept comfort, simultaneously a vanguard and the last line of defense in every battle they have fought together.

When it fades, Bepo finds himself in the captain’s cabin – the sight of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls is a familiar one, the whirlwind of documents all across the desk not so much – and there’s no time to ponder on that before Law holds his hands inches from Bepo’s nose and tells him to look.

“Wha–?”

“Just– Humor me. What do you see?”

Bepo snaps his jaws shut because Law is serious, the air of snarky rudeness gone without a trace, and Bepo looks and sees... Well, nothing. There’s tan skin and fingernails kept obsessively neat; there are the precise lines of the tattoos that have been there for years.

Law’s hands are trembling.

“I don’t see anything, Captain”, Bepo says honestly. Gently, too, because anything that involves Law insisting like that is wrapped in caution tape and staked with warning signs, do not enter, all the way up to the ocean’s surface.

Law curses, then, shaking out his arms in an effort to stop the tremors and it’s wrong, for a surgeon’s hands to be that unsteady. He starts tugging at his clothes and Bepo watches, concern swelling bigger and bigger in his chest – Law’s hat falls to the ground unnoticed when he pulls his shirt over his head in one rough motion.

“Look”, he repeats, golden eyes gone cold and hard. His chest heaves with how heavy he’s panting, muscles taught under the strain; Law’s arm is the only thing left covered, bandaged all the way to his shoulder.

“Anything?”

Bepo does, expression carefully blank as he forces himself to look past the ink and all the things that make Law Law and directly at what’s hidden in plain sight: faded by time, he spots the outline of pale-white scars that have always been there, pre-dating even the fateful day they met.

Then, Bepo shakes his head. “Nothing. There’s nothing, Captain. It’s the same as always.”

“Honest?”

It’s a rushed breath, barely a question at all. It takes Bepo back a decade, the raw fear in it unchanged and belonging to a boy just scratching manhood, struggling to trust the one friend he has in the world. “Honest”, Bepo promises like he always has, and for all of his twenty-two years the ache in his heart feels ancient.

“Talk to me, Law. Please. You’re scaring me.”

Finally, Law inhales sharply and nods, fingers dragging through his hair the way he does after a close call, another life barely saved.

“Something’s not right. I didn’t notice with everything else going on but I’m tired and everything hurts? It’s like I’m about to pass out, fucking… faint like I used Room too much and things get fuzzy around the edges but I haven’t. All I’ve been doing is sleep and eat, I don’t– It makes no sense. And it’s not going away, Bepo.”

Bepo wants to hug him, the need to hold him close and tell him to breathe writhing inside him like a separate being. Law isn’t done yet and somehow it’s even worse to witness him trying to wrest himself into a semblance of control, to drag himself away from all-too-familiar devastation.

“Fatigue. That’s how it starts”, Law tells him, like he’s talking about a patient wholly unrelated to himself. He holds up his hand and counts down with his fingers, one at a time, utterly methodical. “Then pain in the limbs, difficulties concentrating for longer periods of time, discoloration of the skin and hair, high fever and–”

There are no more fingers left, all of them tucked against Law’s palm and exposing all five letters.

“–ultimately: death.”

Bepo can’t take it anymore. “Captain–”, he starts and again he’s interrupted.

“I must’ve missed something.”

Something flashes in Law’s eyes, something unstable and mad-looking and this is bad, Bepo thinks numbly. Very, very bad.

“I thought I cured it but I was a kid, Bepo. Nobody knows the long-term effects of surviving Amber Lead Syndrome, nobody lived long enough to tell. Just because there're no new spots doesn’t mean it’s gone. And what if there’s deposits on a molecular level? I couldn’t cut cells back then without Kikoku but I can now–”

“Law, stop! Shut up!”

Bepo hasn't shouted at Law and truly meant it in a long, long time. Law’s eyes go wide and the frantic rambling stops, and Bepo is done hesitating: He reaches through that gap and touches Law’s forehead, heat searing into the sensitive skin of his paw pads immediately. Shit.

“You’re burning up”, Bepo tells him and shakes his head, barrels through the acute panic in Law’s gaze before it can take proper hold. “Stop, okay? Listen to me.” His paws drop to Law’s shoulders, firm, careful where his fingers touch gauze. “Remember our promise on Swallow? You were delirious with pain and bleeding all over the place and you told me–”

Law whispers, “Promise to stop me”, almost as pale as he was when he said it the first time.

“Exactly. I promised to never let you operate without a clear head ever again ‘cause you’re only human, Captain, and you make mistakes like this. So this is me, stopping you. You’re unwell and you’re scared and you’re not gonna cut into your own cells looking for Amber Lead like this. Okay?”

“Okay”, Law says, the low rasp of his voice growing more solid, close to trusting. Bepo lets himself feel the rapid beat of his own heart for a moment and that, too, is calmer now if only marginally so.

“Okay. So: You’re tired, your body aches, you can’t focus. You have a fever and there’s like, a thousand reasons why that could be aside from– That. And there’s no new spots. What else causes those symptoms? Walk me through it.”

“The flu? Other viruses. Anemia. Iron deficiency in general. Uh–”

A few seconds pass where Law just thinks, brow furrowed and shining with sweat, and Bepo reaches blindly for the hoodie he knows he will find crumpled on Law’s desk chair. “Put this on”, he mutters and presses it against Law’s naked chest. Law does, even lets Bepo help when his injured arm catches on fabric and a pained hiss escapes his lips.

Then the scars are covered again, out of Bepo’s and – more importantly – Law’s sight for the most part. Law stops shivering as much and it's not much but it's still good, still progress. Bepo steers Law to the bed and makes him sit down; arms crossed on the back of the chair, Bepo sits directly across from him. Eyes soft, he nudges Law’s boot with his own.

“Captain. What else?”

“Bacterial infections, severe ones. Miningitis? Hmm... Lymphoma. Technically, most types of canc–”

“Whoa, that’s– Let’s stop there. See? Plenty of options. All of them suck, especially that… that last one.” Bepo pauses, can’t help but to ask: “It’s not that, right? You don’t have cancer.”

Law’s expression softens, the overall misery pushed aside for a moment as his lips twitch tiredly and he shakes his head. “No cancer.”

Bepo nods in relief, and his mind is already three steps ahead because they need a plan and Law is not the only Heart Pirate that has a knack for those. “What’s the prescription against fever? Painkillers and…?”

“Antipyretics.”

There’s not much finesse to Bepo searching the cabinet where Law keeps his private stash of medicine. The weight of Law’s eyes on him registers yet his captain says nothing, wordlessly watching Bepo as he reads labels and tries to place everything back where he finds it until– There!

“Got it. Take… uh, how many?”

“Two. And one from the red box. That one, yeah.”

Bepo gives him the pills and waits with crossed arms until Law obediently swallows all of them at once, wincing at– Wait. Water.

Scrambling to the adjacent bathroom, Bepo fills a glass and refills it right after his captain finishes the first, placing it on his nightstand. “My apologies.”

“It’s fine. You’re fussing.”

“You bet I am”, Bepo huffs, uncaring how petulant it makes him sound. “And I’m not done. Now, rest – and I mean rest, Captain, as in not moving from that bed or so help me – and I’ll get Shachi and Penguin to keep you company. You’ll be fine in no time.”

Pointedly, Law folds the covers over his legs, a wordless there, I’m in bed. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“And you?”

Blinking, Bepo tilts his head at Law. Law just raises an eyebrow and waits, looking vaguely worried and–

Bepo reminds himself that for all he’s a genius his captain is also an idiot.

“You just came back and you’re sick, what do you think I’m gonna do? Figure this out, of course! There’s no way I’m letting you anywhere near one of the Emperors like this, much less freaking Kaido. Also”, he takes a long breath, “I’m taking Kikoku with me and there’s nothing you can do–”

“Fine.”

“–to stop me! …Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, take it. You’re worried enough as is.” Law shrugs a little, like it’s no big deal he’s allowing Bepo to handle the sword he keeps close even in his sleep. “It’s cursed, though. Be careful.”

Bepo swallows, a little nervous despite himself. “I know. I will. And… we’ll get through this, okay? Just stay put. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Law leans back against the headrest and sighs, “Can't. The meds’ll knock me out in a few.” And perhaps he doesn’t look particularly happy about any of it but he still took the pills Bepo handed him, still decided in that moment to trust Bepo to come up with a solution while he’s down and out.

Determination sets into a tight-lipped smile on Bepo’s face. Law’s trust is all Bepo has ever needed, be it to wrestle ocean currents into submission or to help his best friend find the freedom he’s looking for, one cut string at a time.

“I'll tell 'em to hurry, then. Leave the rest to me, Captain.”

>>Chapter 2.