#Ill always wait for you

[musings-of-a-rose]

I'll Always Wait For You - Chapter 16

Pairing: Frankie Morales OR Santiago Garcia???x f!reader

Word Count: 5900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m sorry this took so long to get to. In my defense, I birthed a human and then had to care for it so Frankie kindly waited for me to be at a point where I could really focus on him and his story. Plus, y’all made me rethink a lot of things so it took some time!

A huge thank you to @vanemando15 for reading and listening and bouncing ideas off of. @astoryisaloveaffair and @mermaidxatxheart, ya'll really helped me too!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

I'll Always Wait For You Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

<<Chapter 15

—----

"Frankie.. ::sigh::  if you're looking for me, you can stop. I can't be around you right now. I need time away to think clearly. You've put me through so much shit these last months and I just..can't. I can't keep wondering what you're not telling me. I can't keep being 2nd place. 

::whimper and a sob::

Do you want the drugs or me? Do you want to be with…Elizabeth.. or me? I can't keep listening to you defend her or hide your addiction. Not anymore. I can't so please… ::sob:: think about it."

Frankie played the voicemail from you over and over, tears silently flowing down his face every time he hears your words and how you break down crying. 

I did this. I fucked this up. And for what?

Nothing was going on between him and Elizabeth, not since they were married. She divorced him while he was in a coma and just made his life a living hell. Why would he want that back?

Events of that night flashed before his eyes and he runs his hands across his face. Elizabeth had nearly given him a hand job and he didn't even notice. He was too involved in his conversation to notice. And honestly, probably too high and drunk to notice. Or care.

But he did care. Frankie didn't want it. Any of it. Once you took off, he'd come back yelling at Elizabeth and telling her off. 

He went back inside Flyboyz, commanding Rick to give him the keys to his SUV. He just had to find Hermosa and everything would be ok. He’d explain what happened and she’d understand. It would all work out, right?

He takes off, driving first to his house. Seeing no one there and no evidence someone had been, he heads to Hermosa’s place in the next town over. It makes sense she wouldn’t have been at his house - he wouldn’t have gone there either. She’s most likely at home.

When knocking on her door brings no answer, Frankie finds the hide-a-key and shoves it in the lock, all but flinging open the door and yelling her name. No answer. He walks the apartment and finds no one here. It’s when he sits on the couch to think about where she might have gone that he notices it - the blanket she always kept on the back of the couch is missing. The only time it’s not there is when she travels because she takes it with her. Jumping up, he runs to her closet and notices a few things astray. When he can’t find her suitcase, he mumbles to himself “No no no no!”, rushing to the bathroom and yanking open the cabinets to see bare shelves, a few nearly empty containers left behind. The final clue that she had packed a bag and left were her missing plants, which Frankie would later find on her neighbor’s doormat. 

Where the fuck is she?

—----

Santi couldn’t believe it. She came with him. To Colombia. He’d always dreamed she would be with him, but he never thought she would actually do it.

In the beginning, he gave her space, wanted her to process what happened and know that he was there for her. She did just that, coming to him a few weeks later, softly kissing his lips while he stood in the kitchen, an empty coffee mug in his hand ready for his morning cup. 

Santi went to work with a pep in his step and a smile on his face, his men teasing him at first about him getting laid. One day, Hermosa came into work and brought him lunch, and his men’s teasing turned into praises and asking for advice on how to land someone like that. 

“It takes time. I’ve waited for her for years.”

When Santi comes home from work, she is there waiting for him, usually with some sort of meal. He tells her he doesn’t need it, that she doesn’t have to put herself out, but she just smiles and kisses him, telling him she wants to take care of him, especially since he’s taken care of her all these years. 

Santi wakes one morning, the sun streaming in through the crack in the curtains and splaying across Hermosa’s bare back in front of him. He reaches out, gently running his hand across her skin, smiling at the goosebumps that raise in his wake. She doesn’t stir until he presses his lips to her shoulder, sliding his hand around her front and pulling her close to him.

“Mmmm…” she groans, turning her head and reaching back to pull his face to hers, gently kissing him. 

Santi gently rolls her onto her back, slotting his body between her legs, neither of them having bothered to put clothes on after last night’s escapades. She wraps her legs around him, her hands cupping his face as he starts to slide himself through her. She breaks the kiss with a whine, Santi lifting his head high enough to stare into her eyes as he pushes in, loving the way she slams her eyes shut, mouth hanging open as he bottoms out. 

“You feel fucking amazing, Hermosa. So wet.”

“Just for you, Santi.” She whines out his name as he pulls out, gently pushing back in with an added roll of his hips, angling himself to rub against that spot inide of her that curls her toes.

His hands ghost across her skin as she grips his arms, feeling him sliding in and out as they make love. When she comes she calls his name, a steady chant of “oh God oh God!” behind it. He smiles, pushing into her a few more times before it’s his turn, filling her up with every sporadic thrust of his hips. He looks down at her fucked out expression and smiles, his finger tips brushing at her face.

“I love you, Hermosa.”

“I love yo-”

BANG BANG BANG!

Loud knocking interrupts the moment and Santi jolts awake, sitting bolt upright, covered in sweat and, he looks down, other stuff as the person knocking continues to demand he open the door. Santi swears, pulling on his robe as he crosses his apartment, grabbing his gun on the way over. When he looks through the peephole, he sighs, taking a breath before opening the door.

“Where is she?”

Santi raises his eyebrows. “Nice to see you too, Frankie.”

Frankie rolls his eyes. “I’m serious, Santi. Where the fuck is she? Is she here?”

Santi yawns. “Who?”

Frankie pushes past him into the apartment, eyes scanning the room for any sign of a second occupant. 

“She’s not here, Fish.”

Frankie turns to him, eyes wide and wild. “She has to be here. You guys are best friends.”

Santi gestures around. “Well, as you can see, she isn’t here.”

Frankie grunts and turns back, stomping off down the hallway. He pulls open one door to find an empty bathroom and the next one the bedroom, which is also empty. No signs of anyone else living here, aside from Santi. Frankie walks back into the living room and sits on the couch, putting his head in his hands.

“I fucked up, Santi.”

Santi chuckles. “Yeah, man. You did.”

Frankie’s eyes meet Santi’s. “I love her, Pope. I love her more than I love myself. I would never… I just need to see her. To explain…do you know where she is?”

Santi shakes his head. “She never came with me, Fish. I did ask her to but she said no. Needed time by herself.”

Frankie swallows hard, choking back tears. “H-how long ago was that?”

“Couple days.”

Frankie nods. “And you promise she’s not here?”

“Have you seen anything to suggest she has?”

Frankie glances around again as if he’d find something of hers laying around. “No.”

“Sorry you wasted a trip. You could’ve just called.”

“I had to see for myself.”

“Fair enough.”

A few moments pass before Frankie speaks. “Can I crash on your couch tonight? I can book a flight but the next one out isn’t until tomorrow.”

“Sure, man.”

“Thanks. And Santi?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you need to apologize to.”

—----

2 days after Frankie get’s back from Colombia, he figures it out. A conversation he’d had with you years ago, about where you’d live if money wasn’t an issue. That has to be where she went!

The next day, Frankie steps off the ferry after it docks in Friday Harbor, Washington, a small island in the San Juan Islands. This is where you wanted to live, at least for a long while, loving the scenery, the people, and the whales. You had to be here. 

Frankie had had no luck calling around to hotels. Either you used a different name or they were reluctant to give out guest information. He can’t blame them, but it still pissed him off. Frankie walks past the community center and sees a flyer in the window for a farmer’s market that day. He figured he would start there, maybe ask some of the vendors if they’d seen you.

He walks the first isle, pausing to take a look around. It’s fairly large for a small island, a few rows of vendors selling wares and produce, even fresh flowers. As he scans the area, he notices a woman in a sundress with a wide brimmed hat, standing at the opposite end of the isle from him. He knew it was Hermosa before she turns slightly, smiling at the vendor while nodding, picking up more produce. 

It was the sad look on her face that made Frankie pause mid step. He knows he’s the reason it’s there. He watches her for another minute before turning, heading back to the ferry. 

I have to get my shit together, get clean, before I talk to her. She deserves that. Aurelia deserves that. I’m such a fucking idiot. I just hope she’ll talk to me when I’m clean.

What Frankie doesn’t see is you, glancing up at the place where Frankie had been standing, telling yourself that you had imagined seeing a man in a dark blue hat with curls poking out from under it.

—----

8 months later…

You hadn’t meant to stay this long, but when you stepped off the ferry and felt the cool, misty air on your face, saw the jagged cliffs leading down into the cold waters that you loved, you just couldn’t tear yourself away. 

It was really hard at first, being here alone. Without Frankie. You cried. A lot. It felt like you’d lost him all over again. You knew you’d have to face him eventually and have a hard conversation, but for now, you would focus on you. 

You’d only meant to stay a few weeks. But then you met an older couple that ran a little b&b who needed help with their social media and you stayed, offering to do it for free in exchange for a room. They happened to have a second property, a small studio above a coffee shop just a couple blocks from the harbor where the ferry docked. It was the perfect size for you, even had a full kitchen and bathroom. You adjusted to the ferry horns and bustling people quickly, just happy to be here. 

Until you remembered why you were here. 

Even all these months later, it would catch you off guard, creep up on you whenever you weren’t thinking about it. About him. You knew you’d have to talk to him soon. But what would you say? What would he say? Did he even try to find you? Did you want him to?

You continue to stare out of the coffee shop window at the harbor, eyes glazed over in thought as you absent mindedly sip from your cup. Weather seems nice. I think I’ll go for a hike toda-

“Hey.”

Goosebumps erupt across your skin, your stomach immediately starts churning, and your heart starts to race. You’d know that voice anywhere. You blink a few times, slowly turning your head to look up into the eyes of the man who broke your heart and somehow still held it. You stare up at him, saying nothing but taking in his appearance.

Frankie shifts nervously under your gaze. “It’s uh…it’s been a while.”

He looks…good. Like he actually got sleep. He’s not rubbing at his nose, not even a sniffle. His cheeks have filled in a bit and his eyes don’t have that look to them anymore. You scan down his body and it’s then you notice he doesn’t have his cane. 

“You don’t have your cane.” All these months, so much to talk about and you settle on this? UGH.

Frankie smiles, shaking his leg. “Nope. Just got rid of it a couple of weeks ago. Doctor said I still need to take it easy and to take breaks if I need it. But I’m healed enough to not need the cane. I mean, I won’t be walking Disney World anytime soon without it but…”

“That’s…good, Frankie. Really.”

“It is.”

An awkward silence passes between you. When did it get this hard to talk to him? 

You knew when. 

“How did you find-”

“Can we talk-”

You’d both spoken at the same time. Chuckling, the first layer of tension pops and you gesture to Frankie to go first. 

“Can we go somewhere to…to talk?”

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes and see hope there and it breaks you.

“Yeah. Yeah, ok.”

Frankie smiles wide, trying to hide his excitement at your positive response. “Great! Do you uh..do you have a place in mind or?”

Standing, you grab your cup and toss it in the trash bin. “Yeah. I live just upstairs.”

“Oh.”

You turn to look at him. “Is that a problem?”

“Not..not for me but…is that ok? With you?”

“I suggested it, Frankie.”

You notice some tears welling in his eyes when you say his name, but he quickly coughs, rubbing at his face to clear them. 

“Then uh, lead the way.”

Frankie follows you upstairs and into your apartment, looking around as he kicks off his boots at the door. Walking into your kitchen area, you pour both of you a glass of lemonade, walking back to hand him his. He takes a sip, smacking his lips as he does and you hide your smile behind your glass at this gesture, memories of all the times he’d done it before flooding your brain. He looks around the room and spots the loveseat under the window, sitting when you gesture to it. It dawns on you now that you have no idea how to navigate this. Were you still together? Had he found someone else? You hadn’t, but it had been 7 months. 

You sit on the couch next to him, leaving as much space as you could between you both. Setting your glass down on the side table, you shift your body towards him and wait.

Frankie clears his throat, fishing something from his pocket. “I’m 7 months clean.” He reaches out, turning his palm up, showing off his 7 months sober coin from Narcotics Anonymous. 

“Oh, Frankie! That’s amazing! I’m so pr-”

Frankie holds up a hand. “Please. Let me finish. Or I’m afraid I’ll chicken out.” He chuckles nervously and you pretend to lock your lips and stick the pretend key in your pocket.

“That night was…was rock bottom for me. I have no excuses for any of it. I fell back into old habits with the…with the coke and I knew exactly what I was doing. I guess my body did a detox when I was in the coma but my brain didn’t get the memo.”

He pauses to take a sip of lemonade, clearing his throat as he sets the glass back on the table, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Going back to Flyboyz…I knew where it might end up. Rick was my dealer. I told him I was over that part of my life but..one day he offered it to me and I-I caved. I became worried that you would find out, that anyone would find out that I was back on the drug that caused the crash that nearly killed me, and so..I would lash out. I am so sorry for yelling at you or accusing you of things I know you weren’t doing. You didn’t deserve that.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming his nerves to continue. 

“I knew I was in too deep but I just couldn’t bring myself out of it. I told myself in the beginning it would just be to celebrate big occasions, then it was just when I had a hard week, then a rough day, then every day. I would even get high just before coming home to you-”

“Oh that’s why you seemed extra…enthusiastic some days?”

Frankie nods, still not quite meeting your eyes. “Yes. And I’m so sorry. I had told myself I wouldn’t bring it home, but then there I was, high as shit and fucking you and I hated myself. But then I’d do it all over again. I guess maybe I thought I couldn’t get caught? Or maybe I hoped I would get caught? I’m not sure that makes sense.”

He pauses again to take another drink, his hands shaking slightly as he picks up the glass and sets it back down. 

“And then Elizabeth. I heard your concerns but I thought you were the one being worried for nothing. I feel nothing for her and I couldn’t understand why you didn’t see that. Why you couldn’t see that I love you with all that I am. I ignored the fact that Elizabeth had been the one to encourage the drugs when we were married and she definitely didn’t stop them now. Her and Rick are friends,” Frankie answers your questioning look. “Yeah, I know. So many red fucking flags, right?”

He sighs, rubbing his large hand across his face. “But that night, at Flyboyz? When I told you that Rick and I were celebrating my license being reinstated? I knew there would be drugs and drinking. I didn’t expect Elizabeth to be there but Rick had invited her. When I asked her why she’d even want to be there, she said something about supporting the father of her child or some shit. I was so focused on my next high, I didn’t even question it. And then I got out my kit and Rick started talking about some new repair method for the helios and I was so involved, I just tossed my kit on the table. I had no clue what was happening. I didn’t even realize Elizabeth was sitting next to me until…”

Silence passes between you for a few moments. 

“...until you said my name. I-I really thought you had caught me getting high, that I was finally outed, but then I saw your eyes not on the table but next to me and that’s…that’s when I felt…and then you were running away, and I was shoving Elizabeth away and trying to catch up to you. Cutting my new tires was definitely a move I didn’t expect from you.”

“I didn’t want you catching up to me.” You say it so quiet but to Frankie, it’s like you yelled it.

“I-I wouldn’t have wanted me either. I went back inside and got into it with Elizabeth. Rick eventually let me borrow his keys and I went all over town looking for you. When I saw your things gone, I figured you had gone with Santi so I flew to Colombia-”

“You flew to Colombia??”

Frankie nods. “I thought, for a moment, that you had gone with Santi. Actually with Santi.”

When you say nothing, Frankie looks up at you. “It…was offered. And to be honest Frankie, I thought about it. But then I realized I was just hurt and I would be acting out of anger and hurt and that wasn’t fair to Santi or myself.”

“That’s basically what he told me. I…I wouldn’t have blamed you had you gone with him.” the last part he speaks quietly, nearing whispering it into his glass he picked up before taking another sip. You say nothing. 

“But…when I got back, I remembered a conversation we’d had about places we’d like to live and I remembered you’d said Friday Harbor.. So I hopped on a plane. I had no clue where to look outside of the island, and no hotel is going to give me guest information. So I was walking around and I saw a flyer for a farmer’s market. Figured I’d try there.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. You were at that farmer’s market and you had sworn you’d seen him that day, but in the end thought it was just your emotions making you see things.

“I turned a corner and there you were, in that sundress I love? With a big hat? You had some carrots in your hand.”

Tears start falling from your eyes as you realize Frankie had remembered all of these small details about you, flew not just to Colombia but also here just to talk to you. But then he didn’t.

“Why..why didn’t you talk to me?”

Frankie smiles sadly. “Would you have wanted to talk to me?”

“No. I suppose not.”

“I-I also realized then that you deserved so much more. And Aurelia too. So I vowed to get my shit together. When I got home, I lined everything up for me being gone a bit and checked myself into rehab. I got out after a few months but I needed to stand on my own 2 feet before I even tried to talk to you. Fuck, I’d hurt you so bad and I just…” He sighs. “I don’t expect you to believe me about Elizabeth, so here.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a flashdrive, handing it to you. Hesitating for a moment, you take it, your fingers brushing against his warm hand for a brief moment, making your stomach flutter. 

“What is this?”

“Security camera footage. The main camera was disabled by Rick but he didn’t know the owners had put in new cameras because some animal had kept breaking in and making nests. I was too wrapped up in getting high to remember to turn it off too, but that worked out in my favor I guess.”

You look down at the flash drive and turn it in your hand. “What animal was it?”

Frankie smiles softly. “Racoons.”

He reaches for you but then stops, unsure if he has a right to touch you anymore. “Anyway, just watch, Hermosa. I don’t expect you to forgive me, or even want to talk to me beyond this. But you deserve an explanation, no matter how bad it makes me look. I’ll…I’ll leave you be.”

He stands, stretching a little before giving you a small smile. “I really am sorry, Hermosa. I am…I’m sorry.” He walks to the front door, closing it quietly behind him.

The room is filled with the sounds from the harbor a couple blocks away, the smell of coffee wafting up as it does every once in a while from the shop below. Taking a deep breath, you sit at the little kitchen island you’d made a small desk and pop the flash drive into your laptop. There’s only one file on it so you hover over it, hesitating before you double click to open it. 

It’s definitely camera footage. You can see the days work, Frankie helping out customers and then leaving to come back in. The setup of the party and Rick setting out the drinks and drugs, some other people coming in along with Elizabeth. Your blood boils seeing her but already you can see Frankie annoyed with her, his body language showing that he didn’t want her there or around him. The evening progresses and you swallow hard, seeing Frankie take lines off the table, sitting back and rubbing his finger along his gums. That’s why his mouth tasted weird. 

Frankie turns slightly, talking to Rick. That’s when you notice Elizabeth come and sit next to Frankie, slowly scooting closer and closer to him. Her hand starts to twirl the hair sticking out from under his cap and Frankie sort of shrugs, but doesn’t really make a move, too involved in the conversation he’s having. You watch, bile rising in your stomach as Elizabeth’s other hand starts to move up his thigh and slowly over to palm him, Frankie shifting only slightly, the only indication that he noticed anything was happening, but that was just an automatic reflex.

“Frankie?” 

You hear your own voice on the camera, Frankie’s head snapping in your direction and looking down at the table with fear in his eyes. A second later and he turns his head to the side, a look of sheer surprise and outrage on his face as he sees Elizabeth, shoving her hand away. He yells at her and jumps up, presumably following you out of the door. He comes back in a minute later, body language showing his anger, yelling at Elizabeth, telling her she had no right to touch him, to even be there, that he wanted to never see her outside of dropping Aurelia off and picking her up. That he would ask for supervised drop offs. That she’s only to contact him via a special co-parenting app unless it’s an emergency. That she ruined their relationship and then divorced him while in a coma, pawning his daughter off on his best friend. That she can fuck right off. Rick hands him his keys a short bit later and he’s gone, Elizabeth finally looking defeated.

He was right. He had been telling the truth when he said he didn’t know what Elizabeth was doing. You had thought he was telling the truth but couldn’t be sure, that seed of doubt having been planted there by Elizabeth herself, showing up to the house and staying with them, falling asleep on his couch, all of it. She was still trying to drive a wedge between you but this time it seemed because she finally realized what she had lost.

And then he flew to an entirely different country only to find out you weren’t there. He remembered a conversation you must have had when you were what, 23? About how much you’d love to live in Friday Harbor? And then he shows up, finds you, but then realizes he needs to get his shit together before he can ever hope to talk to you? And he does. He’s clean, his appearance verifies that. And then he gives you proof that he had not been doing anything with Elizabeth, that she was the bitch you always knew she was. 

You’re not sure what to do with all of this information, but you don’t want Frankie to leave. Something has to be said. You throw on your boots, grabbing your keys and throwing open the door, not entirely sure where to go. He’d mentioned just coming in off the ferry, so it’s possible he doesn’t have a car. 

Heading into all the shops in the vicinity, you still haven’t found Frankie. None of the closest hotels have seen a man fitting the description of Frankie, so you head towards the closest cafe, thinking he maybe stopped in for an early dinner. Glancing towards the docks, you see the little covered ticket office for the ferry and something tells you to check there. Crossing the street, you walk up to the office and peek inside, seeing no one. Remembering there was open seating around the back, you walk that direction and turn the corner, a pair of brown eyes snapping up to meet yours. 

“Hermosa?”

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide. “You have?”

“Yeah- wait. Why are you waiting here? You know the last ferry left like an hour ago, right?”

Frankie shrugs, glancing down before looking back up at you. “I meant to be on it.”

“You were going to just drop all that on me and leave?”

“No no not like that! I just…I didn’t want to invade your space any longer than I needed to.”

You nod, looking at him and realizing that he only had a small backpack with him. You’d assumed he had a suitcase somewhere but he meant it when he said he didn’t intend to stay. 

“Are you seeing someone else?” You blurted out, unable to hold back that question any longer.

“I- what? No. No, I’m…I’m not. Are…are you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Ok. G-good.”

You take another few seconds to think about what you wanted to do next. 

“Come on.” You jerk your head back towards the town. “Let’s go.”

Frankie’s eyes are wide like a puppy. “Wh-what?”

“Frankie, I’m not going to let you sit in the ferry station all night.”

“Oh. No, I mean, I can go get a room-”

“This is a small town, Frankie. Most of the front desks are closed by now. Especially since it’s off season.”

“Oh. I-I can stay here. It’s ok-”

“Come on, Frankie. It gets cold at night. I’m not letting you freeze out here.”

“I don’t want to put you out.”

Sighing, you walk over to him, slowly extending your hand towards him. He looks up at you, eyes wide and round, and he slowly puts his hand in yours. The moment he touches you, your body relaxes, like the tension that had been there for the last several months just left your body. If Frankie feels it too he doesn’t let on, and you think maybe you’ve overstepped. So you drop his hand and gesture towards the direction of your place. A look passes over Frankie’s face but then it’s gone and he’s following you. Once you get inside, Frankie kicks off his boots and hangs his jacket on a hook on the wall, setting his backpack down on the floor. 

“Hungry?” You ask. 

“Yeah, actually. I meant to get something to eat but I was trying to make the ferry.”

“I’ll make us something. And don’t say you don’t want to put me out, I’m hungry too.”

Tossing together a quick charcuterie board, you hand him a glass of sweet tea, sliding the board across the breakfast bar. Frankie and you settle into polite conversation, each trying not to overstep the other. 

Why is this so hard?

After dinner, you disappear into the bathroom, putting on your pajamas and getting ready for bed. When you come out, Frankie is sitting on the loveseat, nervously tapping his foot on the ground. Crossing the room, you sit on the bed, swinging your legs over to lay on top of the sheets, your upper half leaning against the headboard. 

“Why are you way over there?” You ask.

“I uh…I’ll just sleep on the couch.”

You roll your eyes. “Frankie, I can’t even lay on that couch and I’m shorter than you. Come on, you can have this side.” You pat the bed next to you and watch as his eyes widen.

“I-no. Are…are you sure?”

“Of course. I don’t want you to hurt your hip. And plus, you can see the tv better.”

“Oh well, in that case.” Frankie chuckles, a nervous tone to it as he gets up, crossing the room to sit on the bed, pausing to start fiddling with his belt. He slides his jeans off, standing there in his boxers as he pulls off his outer flannel, revealing an undershirt. He notices you watching and asks:

“Is this ok?”

“I-y-yeah. It’s fine.”

Frankie sets his clothes down and sits on the bed, sliding his legs down and stretching out. 

“This bed is pretty comfy.”

“Yeah. I bought it. The mattress they had sucked.”

You turn on the TV, flipping through the channels and putting on some reality show that Frankie was secretly obsessed with. His arm lay next to him on the bed and you glance down at it, almost unconsciously moving your arm towards him. Your fingers are right next to his, your heart is beating through your chest and you swear he can hear it. Reaching your pinkie finger out, you gently touch it to his own, not daring to look at him, fully giving him time to move and pull away. But he doesn’t. Frankie’s pinkie finger slowly moves over yours and links with it, like you were making a silent pinkie promise. You stay like that for several minutes, your mind racing, not taking in a word of the show. 

After a few minutes, you feel Frankie start to unlink his finger from yours and your heart sinks a little, until you feel his fingers creeping across the top of your hand, lacing them with yours and squeezing your hand. His skin is warm, soft, despite the callouses he has from piloting the helicopters, but it’s familiar. It’s Frankie. 

Another several minutes passes and Frankie slowly picks up your hand, shifting his hand under yours, lacing your fingers together as he brings the back of your hand up to his lips, placing a very gentle kiss there. Goosebumps erupt across your skin, your chest heaving from holding back, when he speaks, soft and low. 

“There was never anyone else.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you, eyes heavy with love and admiration, but also hesitation and worry, like he’s afraid he’s overstepping. 

“It’s always been you Frankie.”

He gently pulls you to him, holding your face close to his but pausing to take a look at you. His eyes roam over your face, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he gently brushes some hair from your face.

“I am so sorry, Hermosa. We’ve missed out on so much time because of me-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, feeling a few tears fall down your face at finally kissing the man you’ve been in love with since you were 19. He kisses you back, softly parting your lips with his own, sliding his tongue into your mouth. He cradles the back of your head in one large hand, holding you to him as you gently make out. Soft moans and a whimper escapes Frankie and he breaks the kiss, pressing your forehead to his.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“For a moment, I thought I’d lost you too.”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you continue to make out for several minutes before you pull back, kissing the top of his nose as you lay down, cuddling into him, Frankie wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close to him. You fall asleep like that and wake up the next day still entangled in each others arms. Frankie is already awake when you stir, tracing little circles on your skin. 

“Hey Frankie?”

“Mmm?”

“Let’s go home.”

—----

 @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional  @marvelousmermaid  @hauntedmama  @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi  @wretchedmo  @sunnshineeexoxo  @livingmydreams13  @adventures-of-a-noodle  @sara-alonso  @theewokingdead  @punkerthanpascal  @giggly-otter  @f0rever15elf  @phandoz  @dirtytissuebox  @gallowsjoker  @lovesbiggerthanpride  @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat  @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear  @charlispersonallyhell  @xoxabs88xox  @amneris21  @gooddaykate  @alindeluce @avengers-fixation  @paintballkid711  @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri  @marrianena  @practicalghost  @withakindheartx  @batdarkladyvampir  @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart  @alexxavicry  @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics  @frankie-catfish-morales

Chapter 17>>

[fitrahgolden]

[todayisafridaynight]

[0xeyedaisy]

Random stuff

[holysheithyall]

GREGORY!!!!!!! MY SON!!!!!!!!!! and tony ig.. but i domnt like him (lie). i would go to WAR for my baby.

my test for people is just asking them if they like gregory if they answer wrong i make them walk the plank.

[m00ngbin]

ITS TFS TUESDAY.

Chapter 26!!!! The last chapter in act two!!!! (ARUAGJRRGAJEH)

Oh the original thing the 2nd image is from is the Tome (reigen) manga where ONE is advertising the mp100 stageplay btw

One of the top contenders for my favorite page and it's not even canon to the story or anything

[voidcat]

characters: you/imaushi wakasa, sano shinichiro...

a/n: angst lol. strangers to friends. themes of fwb but nothing explicit. switch of perspective. mcd obviously,,

as i said in this post the loose explanatio/beginning of an idea i had that i liked ALOT but couldnt write due to various reasons (esp lck of time) (open post for a lil further stuff for reader x wakasa ig,,,)

attending the same classes as shinichiro sano... you've heard of him alright but that's about it. a nice face to look at perhaps but a little odd. not someone you'd interact with occasionally, nor someone you'd remember in particular-

until you're paired with him for an assignment. it'll help build bonds between the lot of you! the teacher announces and everyone groans in unision

you shoot your new partner to be a look from where you stand and turn back to your notebook. the ring bells but by the time you can get up adn gather your stuff, sano is nowhere to be seen

it takes you hours to find him. and at possibily one of the worst times too.

you heard of the rumors about fights and deliquents but you didn't expect yourself to run into one. youre careful, you live a peaceful life, you avoid trouble, always keep a clean name and all-

the people around all battered and beaten up, covered in bruises, cuts and maybe blood, looking hungry, unsatisfied, maddened– and you're in the center of it all.

footsteps approach you, strong, stern, taking their time and all- you hold it in you to not turn for a look. wait for them to show their face at your feet, dont give them the satisfaction nor even the slightest sign of weakness.

a man with blond hair and a pretty face, long lashes and all, stands before you, looking almost a little amused. "what's a pretty little thing doin' here all by themselv-" "where's sano" you cut him midsentence.

the man looks baffled, a little offensed even. soon joined by a second figure a lot taller than him, they both look at you with hostility and a hint of curiosity.

who cares, you scoff internally, whatever intimidation they're going for, you won't fall for it.

the other man raises a brow at the way you've mentioned sano. shit, you do hope this was not the wrong place, or whatever fight went down there, they must've won... right?

"and who is asking?" the blond speaks up again, sounding a little annoyed now. "you know, we don't allow passes to every pretty thi-" "eeeew" you drag the word and scretch like a gum, making sure to put on a face. "none of your business actually." you add on, placing your hand against a hip.

"why, you-" before he can follow up with whatever's on his tongue, a jolly greeting from behind interrupts him, cutting through the air. you can notice how the idle folks around suddenly tense up, and for the two man before you, shoulders dropped, bodies relaxing...

soon sano emerges, with his hair put up and stylized, nothing like the man in your class, a deliquent out of a shitty teen's magazine you'd say so.

exhanging greets with the two men and doing a special handshake for only them to know, he looks in the mood, just his face a little bruised up and some blood on his clothes.

so that's probably why he skips school some days, you muse.

he notices you a little later.

"oh!" mouth formed into an 'o' shape, you can see his surprise written all over but he is quick to disperse all that." greeting you with your surname formally, he reaches out a hand, then brings it up upon noticing the splatters of blood and takes it back with a sheepish smile.

"what brings you there?" he asks, never losing a bit of his joy that contradicts the entire atmosphere.

"our assignment." you say curtly and receive another sound of surprise from him. he looks apolegitic at the very least, you think.

"well.. uh-" he scratches the back of his head, casting a glance around, you wait to see where the stammering will go.

"how would you wanna do it then?" he asks more for you than himself, to ease you probably, you can only assume.

another joins their little group, keeping silent and watching what's going on. you relly, really should get going, you decide after giving a quick look around. "we can go over the details at an appropirate time later."

"alright then!" he says, never missing a beat from his energy. it's unbelievable, you think. "should we... ah-" he pauses, "exchange numbers to keep in touch then?" he asks, and he means well, you can tell just from the way he looks and talks, but the rest? you're not exactly dying to say out loud your contact information. especially not with that blond anywhere within a 20 meter radius.

"here." you say, reaching out your hand to reveal your phone. "i'm not announcing my number for a bunch of weirdo, self proclaimed deliquents to hear."

your words take him by shock but he breaks into a snort right after. the two men exchange a glance and a thug at their lips as well. the blond however does not look once pleased with your words.

or you at all.

you begin to come and go to their place often, the assignment builds up slow but steady and the guys seem reasonable enough after actually sitting down and hearing each other out. shin looks happy with the development too, says you have brought a change but you'd disagree. he is the light and sun and the beating heart of this place and wherever he goes, they follow, absolute devotion and belief in him, as a person, for his mind and for his heart.

you can see why, you can feel it too. once you begin to spend your time with shinichiro sano, all the rumors and speculations you've heard up until then are gone. assignment be damned, you can tell when a friendship begins to bloom and with shin- it happens at such a pace, you find yourself a little afraid.

the assignment ends, presentation and all, with flying colors you pass and decide to celebrate it out, with the rest joining as well.

a karaoke bar is all fun and games until night rolls out. it has gotten late but shin offers to walk you home; keizo and takeumi dragging a very drunk and messed up wakasa. everyone bids one another goodbye- save for wakasa... and you almost believe youhave seen a hint of sadness in their eyes as they bump their fists against yours. if you didn't know any better, you'd ever go as far as to say they'll miss you around.

a day passes, another and another... much to their relief and encouragement, you stick around.

not within the vicinity on the days big fights go around but definitely dropping by to hang out, fool around and whatnot. it's now your laughter mixed with shin's that fills the air, and everyone seems joyful and happy most of the time- save for imaushi wakasa.

for reasons unbeknowst to you, he remains hostile, rude, and on and up about sending your way stupid lines like he did the first time. most of the time you ignore him, which annoys him further– the scene alone brings a smile to your lips, the smirk of a vixen, you even overhear him once, yelling to keizo about you are, sounding very much frustrated.

despite this is how the things begin and roll out, neither of you expect to grow close- closer than you'd have imagined.

yes, you and shin might be the sunshines, but you and wakasa? the two of you become inseperable. you even hear some people mumble how they fear the two of you looking down at them, gazes that burn holes through their skulls, see into their souls... the two of you could make a power couple- if you were one at all.

there is the heat, there is the tension. you comb through his hair with a gentle touch that has wakasa melting in your hold, yet the second someone dares to imply anything more, you shoot them a glance so heavy, it'd crash their lungs.

wakasa hopes, in the end, that perhaps there is an end to it that is happy, that is hopeful. he knows there is no making up for the way he treated you but you were not the kindest toward him either, so it makes you equals, no?

so he sings sappy songs at karaoke whilst tipsy, so any accusation he can brush off as the effect of the booze, but hopes you caught how he looked at you. so he touches you as soft as you do him, trying to mimic your kindness, an attempt at how love, in the physical, in action should be.

he doesn't know any better, why should he? why should anyone to begin with?

it scares him how natural it is for shin and you. some days he finds himself envying the two of you even, would things be any different were you to attend the same school as the two of you? oh what wouldn't he do to be graced with your smiles and giggles all day every day, having you look at him as you rest your cheek against your palm–

he aches for something a tad normal sometimes, at the very least with you. would the two of you ever cross paths were it not for shin? the thought scares him and he feels like an asshole for envying his friend like this, desperate for anything that would come from your hands.

but at the end of the day, it is himself you seek out. his arms that you allow around your person, his lips on you, devoring you, it's wakasa that consumes you wholly and the thought brings a wave of comfort at the very least.

then the entire world collapses down in the span of 24 hours.

shinichiro dies.

almost 24 hours have passed since his death and wakasa still cannot find it in him to return to reality yet.

then like an angel amidst the chaos, you reemerge from the fog, from smoke. it doesn't take a genius to figure out something is wrong.

"waka," you call out to him, sound laced with something he cannot quite pinpoint. shutting his eyes completely, he sits in the same spot for a moment, all the doubts, every single negative, twisted and fucked up thng he has been holding at bay til now so close to breaking out.

you speak, but he does not hear the words.

not pass the 'i am leaving'

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

DUDE, HOLD UP. IT'S ONLY 12-ISH DAYS UNTIL THE NEXT WELCOME HOME UPDATE.

[bonefall]

yeah no it's entirely the "x-phobia is ok as long as its towards an acceptable victim!!!". I imagine these are the same people who misgender trans ppl they don't like and harass mspec lesbians bc they're "lesbophobic". they're still bullies just with a superiority complex

I got a terf in my inbox today btw, like, incredible that I spoke out about how it's wrong to mock disabled people and victims of incest and coincidentally that summoned the first frothing-at-the-mouth transphobic ask I've received in a few months.

[woolying]

I LOVE U FANGANS !!! I LOVE U DR OCS !!!

just a few i enjoy <3 yay sooo cool ooough

dr mira : @gooseagain8 drsg : @danganronpasurvivorsguilt dr50th : @okthatsgreat drdw : @sir-sunny

the stupid idiot is mine teehee

[musings-of-a-rose]

I Will Always Wait For You - Chapter 15

Pairing: Francisco "Frankie/Catfish" Morales x F!reader

Word Count: 5200+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’M SORRY

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

<&lt;Chapter 14

I'll Always Wait For You Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You manage a quick text to Santi, letting him know you were at your place and if Frankie calls looking for you, to tell him to fuck off. You don’t give any more details and Santi respects that - he never prys or asks, aside from asking if you’re ok. And honestly, you’re not sure.

Frankie obviously felt very defensive when it came to the drug issue, so him accusing you of sleeping with Benny probably came from a place of frustration with that. Or was it deflection? He had been acting strangely lately. Could he be back on whatever drugs had caused his wreck? Or something worse?

You stomp around your home for a bit, deep in thought and anger at the audacity of Frankie to even contemplate that. Deciding to take a shower to cool off, you do just that. And the waters helps - a bit anyway. When you step out, you’re still upset, but the edge is gone, replaced with exhaustion. Although you’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep. 

Just then, your phone rings and you glance down at it on your nightstand to see Frankie’s picture light up the screen. Flipping off the screen, you slide the red button and turn your phone off. Santi already knows where you are and you can’t deal with Frankie right now. 

As you slide into bed, your thoughts linger on that asshole, wondering how he was going to try and dig himself out of the hole he had been burying himself in for weeks.

--------

Sun rays hit your face, making your skin pleasantly warm as you blink awake. Somehow, you’d managed to fall and stay asleep, no doubt due to mental exhaustion. And physical exhaustion, considering how Frankie had pounced on you the moment he walked in the door-

No. None of that. You’re mad.

Stretching, you sit up and glance at your phone, remembering you had turned it off before bed. Holding the power button, the logo pops up on the screen and you head into the bathroom to wash your face and such. Multiple notification sounds go off on your phone and you wish you had hit silent before letting it boot up. 

Moisturizer in place, you sigh, heading back to the bed and sitting on it, grabbing your phone and looking at the screen. A handful of texts from Santi just making sure you’re ok and asking if you wanted to meet for breakfast to chat. You know he has to be super busy with the upcoming move, so you shoot him a text back saying you’ll be fine and he should use that time for himself.

A few more texts were from Benny, also checking on you because Frankie had apparently called him as well. Another quick text off to him and Will, who had also texted you, letting them know you were fine, before you stopped at Frankie’s name. There were more than a few texts and missed calls from him, all saying virtually the same thing.

“Hermosa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just tired.”

“I was just jealous of the time you two spend together. I know you wouldn’t do anything.”

“Ben is like my brother too. I’m so sorry.”

“Please Hermosa. Just let me know you’re ok.”

“Santi told me you’re at your place. I’ll come by in the morning and hope you’ll let me in.”

“I love you, so much. Please just…I love you.”

Tears fall and you let them, a few dropping onto the phone but then you hear knocking at your front door. Furiously wiping at your face, you glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable before walking to the door, opening it to find Frankie, holding a bag from your favorite bakery in one hand with his cane and a drink caddy with 2 coffees in it in the other. His brown eyes are wide, apologetic and sorry, just like a puppy who got caught doing something he shouldn’t. How does he do that with his eyes?

“Hermosa. I- I didn’t think you’d answer.”

Taking a few moments to respond, you finally decide to speak to him. “Almost didn’t.”

He nods, glancing down at the ground before looking back up at you. “I brought you some breakfast. Your favorites from that coffee shop on Main.”

“Why do you think I opened the door?” 

“I was hoping they would-”

You step back and open the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside.

“I can come inside?” He asks, hopefully.

“You usually do.”

It slips out before you can help it and you find yourself trying to fight back a smirk, Frankie trying to do the same as he takes in your expression.

“Can’t disagree there.”

Frankie steps past you, his scent filling your nose, mixing pleasantly with the food as he heads towards the kitchen, setting the bag and drinks on the table, moving to pull everything out and set it up. You lock the door and follow him, watching as he moves around, placing breakfast sandwiches and your favorite pastry down on a plate, checking the coffee label to make sure it’s the right one before setting that down too. He pulls the chair out and gestures to it. 

“Come sit? Please?”

Sighing, you take a seat, allowing Frankie to scoot your chair in before he sits himself, setting his cane off to the side. It’s quiet as you both eat, not sure of what to say or who should start. 

“Hermosa…I am so sorry.”

Frankie first, then.

He swallows hard, setting down his coffee as his eyes lock onto yours.

“I didn’t mean anything I said. I don’t think you’re sleeping with Ben. You’d never do that, espeically after…after our history.”

“Then why say those things? All of those hurtful things? Like I don’t know you?”

He nods, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I really have no excuse. I was tired, and honestly in a fair amount of pain and I just…I guess I got a little jealous and it just slipped out in anger. I didn’t mean any of it. I love you, Hermosa.”

“Jealousy is not a great color on you, Frankie.”

“I thought you said I looked good in every color.”

He smiles, but when you don’t, he coughs, dropping the smile from his face.

“I know. I’m so sorry. I called Ben last night to see if you had gone there and he told me off for pissing you off. Just like a brother would. Actually, I think he had a girl there-”

“Yeah. He had a date with Olivia. He met her at a fight.”

“Really? He hasn’t brought her around.”

“Wasn’t sure if it would stick.”

“You’ve met her?”

“Yeah she’s been there the last time or 2 that I was helping Ben. She joined us and we all had a fuck party.”

“....ok I deserve that.”

“You do. But we’re not here to talk about Benny’s love life, or lack thereof.”

“You’re right. What can I do to make it up to you, Hermosa?”

That was the million dollar question.

“I’m not sure, Frankie. How about…therapy? You’ve been through so much, with the accident and Aurelia and everything. It would probably be helpful.”

He lets out a soft chuckle, pulling out his phone. He brings up a screen and slides it across the table towards you. On it, was an appointment confirmation with a therapist. 

“I had the same idea.”

Love overwhelms and quells the anger inside of you. Standing, you take a step towards him, leaning over and grabbing his cane, handing it to him as you straighten up. Frankie’s eyes are wide and concerned, like he thinks you’re going to kick him out. 

“What, uh…what’s happening?”

Leaning down again, you place each of your hands on his thighs, gripping them slightly as you get close to his face. 

“I do believe I asked you to come inside. Are you going to make good on that?”

Immediately his eyes darken, lust consuming him as he fidgets in his chair. He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he nods frantically. 

“Absolutely.”

-------

Frankie starts therapy just as he said he would and he seems to be getting better. Or maybe better at hiding something? You hate the way this thought creeps into your mind, unwelcome and at the most inopportune times. But there was so much going on, with Santi leaving soon and Aurelia all but demanding you be at Frankie’s to play with as well, you didn’t really have time to think about it. 

One day, you drop off lunch to Frankie at work, a day without Aurelia and Elizabeth there. He’s so close to getting his license reinstated - just a couple more flying hours before his practical exam. He’s trying to hide his nerves, but you can see it in his eyes, the way he taps his fingers, like he always has to keep moving. 

Rick walks in and you catch Frankie stiffen at his friend’s arrival. What’s that about?

“Hey Frank! Ready to finish up those hours tonight?”

Frankie meets the gaze of his friend and it takes him a moment to reply. “I uh…I don’t know.”

Rick laughs, clapping Frankie on the shoulder. “You’re doing great, Frank. You’ve got this in the bag. Besides, we always have fun, don’t we?”

Rick smiles and Frankie chuckles nervously, his eyes shifting between you and Rick. Why is he acting so weird around Rick? Ok, weirder than normal?

Rick says hi to you and speaks to Frankie as he heads towards the back door. “See you in 20.”

“Yeah.”

The door closes and Frankie visibly relaxes, his shoulders relaxing back into their normal position. He grabs the rest of his sandwich and starts to eat, a little faster than before Rick had appeared. 

“You ok, Frankie?”

“What?” Crumbs fly out of his mouth as he speaks and he quickly grabs a napkin to cover his mouth.

“You look…I don’t know. Nervous?”

He swallows the bite and takes a sip of his drink. “Well..yeah. I mean, after these couple of hours, I have the practical exam next week.”

Waving your hand, you shake your head. “Not the test. You’ll nail that. But…has Rick said something to upset you? I mean, you always look slightly nervous around him but today it’s…different.”

A look you can't determine flashes across Frankie’s face before a gentle smile settles. “No. Just jitters about the test. I’m fine, Hermosa.”

You study him for a moment longer before reaching out and caressing his cheek, the patchy stubble rubbing against your skin. Frankie moans quietly into the touch, placing his large, warm hand over yours. 

“Better?” You ask.

He nods. “Always better when I’m with you.”

His hand comes to the back of your head and pulls you to him, placing a soft kiss to your lips. His tongue starts to explore your mouth when the back door flies open, Rick yelling to Frankie.

“Let’s g- oh! Sorry I’ll give you a minute.”

Chuckling, Rick closes the door behind him. Frankie sighs, the kiss having been interrupted.

“I gotta get out there, Hermosa. He may literally drag me from the room if I don’t.”

You laugh. “I understand. We’ll continue this later?”

His eyes darken a few shades. “Of course. I have much more to say.”

-------

The weekend passes quickly, Frankie looking increasingly more nervous as the exam gets closer. You try to help him relax as much as you could, cooking him is favorite meals, baths, bedroom, telling him how brilliant he is at flying, all of it. And while it helps, you know he’s still doubting himself.

Exam day comes and you drive Frankie to Flyboyz. The test administrator would meet Frankie at the strip and test him there. Frankie made sure to arrive early, starting a small makeout session in his truck before hopping out when he sees an unfamiliar car making its way towards the main building. 

“You got this, Frankie! I love you!”

“Love you too!”

The test would take a few hours as they had to do pre-flight and post flight checks, as well as the actual flying. So you drove into town, making sure you had all the ingredients for his favorite meal. Frankie would find out immediately following the exam whether he passed or he’d have to retake it. 

As if the stress of the exam wasn’t enough, Santi would be leaving for Colombia in a few days, having postponed his departure a couple of times due to paperwork taking longer than expected. You meet up with him for a quick bite to eat before heading back to wait for Frankie.

“You’re gonna miss me when I’m in Colombia.”

Laughing, you look at Santi. “I love how that was a statement and not a question.”

He smiles, his eyes twinkling at you. “I know my worth.”

A few hugs later and you depart, parking Frankie’s truck in the lot and heading inside to wait for him. Glancing out of the back door window, you see Frankie and the test administrator doing post flight checks. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but it seems like Frankie has extra pep in his step, even with the cane. You give them their space, sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting area and flipping through your emails. Eventually, they walk in the back door, both laughing at some joke the administrator made.

“Alright. Well it was very nice to meet you, Mr. Morales. And again, congratulations.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The man leaves and the second the door closes, your head snaps to Frankie, a questioning look in your eyes. A smile stretches wide across his face as he starts nodding.

“I GOT IT! I’M LICENSED AGAIN!”

Jumping up, you whoop, running over to him and throwing your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss.

“I knew you could do it!”

His hands settle on your hips, gripping them tightly. “I’m glad one of us had confidence in me.”

Kissing him again, you grind your hips slightly against him, feeling him half hard in his jeans already as he groans.

“Hermosa, we can’t. Rick is around and the camera is on.”

You huff, sticking out your lip in a pout. “Fine…do you have to finish your workday?”

“I-”

The backdoor opens and Rick walks in. “Frank?”

You pull back from Frankie so he could turn halfway towards Rick, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. “I’m licensed!”

A giant laugh erupts from Rick and he walks to Frankie, clapping him on the back. “I knew you could do it!” He looks over Frankie’s shoulder and sees you standing there. He gives you a wink before looking back at Frankie. “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go home and celebrate with your girl.”

“Really? You sure you can handle things?”

“Frank, I was doing this before you got here. I’ll be fine.”

“Ok…uh thanks, Rick.”

Hopping in the truck a few moments later, Frankie pulls out of the drive and starts to head towards the house. But a minute later, you place your hand on his thigh.

“Can you pull off onto that access road?”

“Sure. Everything ok?” Frankie asks as he turns down a small road that has one small curve that hides the electric boxes behind some bushes and small trees. 

As soon as he shifts into park, you unbuckle your belt, practically launching yourself across the bench seat at him. He makes a noise of surprise as you pull him to you, lips crashing into his, but then he rallies, pulling you even closer as his tongue pushes your lips open. Your hand slides down his chest, cupping him over the bulge in his pants and he breaks the kiss to gasp. You pull him to you again, your hand now undoing his button and zipper, sliding in to grip him.

“Fuck, Hermosa..” Frankie pants into your mouth as you finally manage to free him, hard cock springing out of his pants.

Without a word, you fling you leg over his lap, sliding your panties over, his fingers gripping your hips to run himself through your increasingly wet folds. Heavy breaths and moans fill the cab of the truck before he finally pushes into you with a little more force than normal, causing you to cry out his name.

“Shit, are you ok?”

Nodding, you put both of your hands on either side of his face, kissing him gently on the lips before slightly pulling back, your hips starting to rock over him. Frankie’s grip on you tightens, fingers digging into you as he matches your increasing pace, thrusting up into you and smiling faintly between his own pants and moans. It’s not long before you come, fingers gripping the hair at the back of his neck as his name spills from your lips.You’re barely down from you release when Frankie shifts his hips and yours, punching up into you to chase his own high. A few thrusts later, his head flies back, fingernails digging into your hips, your name on his lips as he spills inside of you. Several moments pass as you both try to catch your breath, the windows already fogging up. Gently, you put your hands on either side of his face and pull him up, staring into his deep brown eyes.

“I am so proud of you, Frankie. So proud.”

He smiles and it lights up the car, his eyes twinkling and he pulls you to him for a gentle kiss. 

“Thank you.”

Eventually, you climb off of him and dab yourself clean with some wipes from his glovebox, noticing the lust in his eyes when Frankie realizes you’ve left him mostly inside of you. Walking up to his house, Frankie puts his arm around your shoulder and holds you close to him. 

“I love you, Hermosa.”

“I love you too Frankie.”

He unlocks the door, looking back at you with a mixture of that love and lust when-

“CONGRATULATIONS!!”

Frankie’s head snaps around, looking at the faces of all of his friends and his parents, everyone whooping and congratulating him. A small but mighty slam into his legs and he sees Aurelia there, smiling up at her dad.

“You fly again?”

He kneels to her level and hugs her tight, her little hands trying to reach around his massive shoulders but not even close to succeeding. 

“I am! I’m so glad you’re here, Aurelia!”

He looks back up at you, the smile on your face a little guilty.

“You! You planned this, didn’t you?” He tries to look upset, but he can’t hold back his smile.

“Maaaybe. Were you surprised?”

Frankie nods and releases Aurelia, standing up and rubbing his legs. He leans in to kiss the side of your cheek and speaks low in your ear.

“Is that why we took a detour?”

“Did you expect me to wait?”

He smirks, kissing you on the lips this time, Benny whooping in the background. 

“Come on, Frankie. Let’s go celebrate you!”

--------

A few nights after Frankie’s party, he calls you from work to tell you he’s celebrating with Rick, as well as thanking him for all he’s done to help with getting his flying hours finished. 

“Sounds good, Frankie. Have fun, be safe, and I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Deciding to stay at his house for the night rather than make the trek back to your place, you clean up a bit, knowing Frankie would grumble something about being able to do it himself. Making extra for dinner, you boxed up a portion of food for him in case he got hungry when he got home. Expecting a later night, you got ready for bed and crawled in, turning on the tv to some random rom com and falling asleep rather quickly. 

Startling awake, the room was dark, the tv having turned off with the sleep timer. Patting the bed next to you, all you feel are cold sheets. Pausing to listen, you hear no other sounds in the house indicating that anyone was home. How long have I been out?

Glancing at the nightstand, you see 3am stamped across it and frown. You knew it would be late but this is…don’t bars typically close at 2am around here? Thinking he may have left a text or a voicemail, you grab your phone off the nightstand and see nothing - no new text or missed calls, nothing to indicate Frankie had tried to get ahold of you. Navigating to his name, you call him…to no answer. Maybe he’s asleep? Or it’s loud?

You try again a few more times with no success, so you leave a voicemail, following it up with a few texts sent over the course of several minutes. Worry sets in and you get up, using the bathroom before coming back to check your phone - nothing. It’s too late and, with nothing from him, you decide to make the calls. 

Benny answers and hasn’t seen him, neither has Will, Santi, or Tom, who told you to fuck off for calling so late and that Frankie is probably passed out in his truck somewhere. Trying to contact Frankie again with still no response, you throw on some clothes and grab your keys and bag, hopping in your car and driving down the road. You have no clue if he’d gone to a bar or restaurant, or even to Rick’s house. Wherever that was. Thinking Flyboyz might have answers, even if someone’s vehicle was left there, you drive in that direction, pulling into a parking lot that wasn’t empty, lights clearly on in the main office building.

It was hard to see through the front windows clearly, even in the daytime, but the lights and the faint sound of music told you there were people inside. Frankie’s truck was parked in the lot, his typical spot he parked in when he came into work. A quick glance inside told you he wasn’t sleeping in it, so you turn and head towards the building and around the back, hoping to come in through the back entrance. The door opens for you, not locked because who would be here at 3am? Pushing it open, the sound of music grows louder, but not so loud that you’d have to scream. It’s a little foggy in the hall leading towards the main space, smelling of cigars and pot. Waving your hand in front of your face, you stop as the hall ends and it opens up into the main space, where people typically wait for flights and where Frankie’s desk is…or was. You’re not sure how that works anymore now that he’s flying. 

No one has heard you, or at least no one has indicated they’d heard you or seen you, as no one turns to look at your sudden appearance, all absorbed in whatever they were doing. Rick was lounging against Frankie’s desk, taking a drag from a cigar and talking to another guy that you’d seen around Flyboyz, one of the mechanics. Your eyes scan the room and see liquor bottles with varying degrees of liquid inside of them, some completely empty and some untouched. On the coffee table in front of the row of chairs where people wait, you saw a small mirror, a random credit card or debit card, a rolled up dollar bill, and several small, empty, clear baggies scattered around the table, obviously having been opened and used. 

But none of that sticks in your head because your eyes land on Frankie’s jeans and travel up to him, sitting in one of the chairs, body slightly turned towards Rick and the mechanic. He says something to them in response, obviously deeply involved in the conversation, but all you hear is the ringing in your head as you see Elizabeth sitting next to Frankie, one of her hands behind his neck, twirling his curls around her fingers. And her other hand? On his upper thigh, moving slowly as she makes her way over and starts to rub his dick over his jeans. For a moment, you’re too stunned to say anything - until she reaches for his zipper. 

“Frankie?”

You spoke quietly, but it’s as if you yelled. Everyone snaps their heads to you comically, and you might have laughed if it wasn’t for the bile quickly rising up the back of your throat. Frankie’s eyes meet yours, his blown wide with fear and something else. He seems to register the look of horror or whatever is on your face and he glances down at the table, clearly thinking you’re worried about the drugs. It’s only then he seems to notice Elizabeth and where her hands are located. He grips her wrist and yanks it from him, shoving her slightly back.

“What the fuck? Get off me! No, wait Hermosa!”

You weren’t going to wait around for this. Anger is driving you now and you don’t wait to see if Frankie is following you or not. Grabbing a box cutter sitting on a stack of boxes waiting to be inventoried as you walk past, you stomp outside and back around to the parking lot, not pausing to think as you slash Frankie’s tires before hopping in your car. Before you close the door, you hear him calling your name, begging you to not leave. 

“It’s not what you think! Hermosa, please!”

You peel out of the parking lot, anger flowing through your veins as you drive quickly away, not wanting to look back to see the look of absolute horror and regret on his face as Frankie watches you drive away from him.

-------

BANG BANG BANG!

You slam your fist against Santi’s door, completely forgetting what time it was until he answers, eyes rimmed with sleep and standing there in his boxers and a fitted shirt. He tucks his gun away, having seen that it was you through the peep hole before he answered.

“Hermosa?” His voice is sleepy but concerned.

“I-shit, Santi. I didn’t think about the time. I just..couldn’t go home.” The tears came then and Santi gently pulls you to him, closing the door behind you and locking it.

He holds you, hand coming up to hold the back of your head as you cry, clinging to him like a lifeline as your world crumbles around you. Santi makes comforting noises at you, trying to soothe you but never asking you to speak. He waits until you’re ready, which is several minutes later. You pull back sniffling, and notice you left several wet patches on his shirt.

“Shit, Santi. I’m sorry.” You make a move to try and wipe his shirt, but he waves you off.

“It’s fine. Need a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Santi gently takes your hand and pulls you along to his kitchen. It’s then you notice all of the boxes stacked around, a harsh reminder that your best friend (aside from Frankie) was about to leave the country. He pours you a glass of water, giving you a stern look when you start to protest.

“You need to replenish your fluids, not dry them out more.”

He’s right, but you groan anyway, drinking about half of the glass before Santi pulls you along to his couch, as he had sold his kitchen table and chairs a week or 2 before. You both sit and he waits patiently and eventually, you sigh, setting your now empty glass down on the floor before putting your hands in your lap, picking at your nails. 

“I found Frankie.”

“I figured as much. He ok?”

“He’s alive and not in the hospital if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yikes.”

Unable to keep it in, you tell him everything you saw - the drugs, Elizabeth, all of it, tears falling down your face when you speak about what she was doing, or trying to do. Santi’s hands cover yours and he squeezes them comfortingly. 

“It’s coke.”

Sniffling, you look up into his dark eyes, searching for a lie and finding none. “Coke?”

Santi nods, his eyes a little more sad now. “That’s what he was on before when he…got in the accident.”

“Oh.”

A few moments pass. “You knew he started back up?” You ask.

Santi takes a deep breath. “I guessed he was. Just some familiar behaviors and ticks-”

“It wasn’t allergies.”

Santi shakes his head. “No. It wasn’t.”

You nod, pausing to think for a few moments. “How could he-”

“He’s not in his right mind, Hermosa. He needs help for sure, but he’s not thinking clearly.”

Tears fall again and you make no move to stop them. “Is it me? Am I just not good enough? Not what he thought I’d be? Is this..m-my f-fault?”

Santi pulls you to him, cradling the back of your head as you bury your face into his shoulder. “No, Hermosa. This is not your fault at all. You’re more than he deserves.”

Pulling your head back, you look up at him. “You think so?”

Santi pushes your hair back from your face, now wet with tears. His eyes scan yours, bouncing between them as he has an internal conversation. 

“Come with me.”

“Where?”

“To Colombia.”

“Like on a trip? I’m not sure I’d be the best vacation buddy-”

“No. Come with me, Hermosa. You deserve so much more.”

“Santi, I can’t just up and leave to Colombia for a bit-”

“I’m in love with you, Hermosa.”

Sitting up a little straighter, you scan his face looking for a joke, but finding none.

“Wh-what?”

Santi takes another deep breath. “I’m in love with you, Hermosa. I always have been. It killed me to see you with other guys-”

“But…you’ve never said anything?”

“I didn’t want to lose your friendship.”

“I…I’m- but you were always respectful.”

“I knew I had to deny you, but one of my biggest regrets is not sleeping with you the night of Frankie’s wedding when you asked me to. I knew it was wrong, but I really wanted you. And maybe if we had, we’d be together now…but that’s the past. Hermosa, come with me to Colombia. I’ll treat you so much better than anyone ever has.”

Santi already did treat you better than pretty much anyone ever had. He always had your back, cracked jokes with you, checked up on you, he was the last person to talk to you when you moved away. He treated you with the utmost respect, as was evident even back at Frankie’s wedding. How many guys would turn down sex with someone they were attracted to? No, in love with? You’d have said Frankie treats you the best but with everything happening over the last several months, you can’t exactly say that.

There was a reason that you agreed to Santi’s pact about marrying at 40 if neither of you were with someone. Initially, you’d thought it a silly little deal, but when you saw the look of sincerity on Santi’s face, you could suddenly see a life with him and to be honest, it wasn’t a bad life. You knew you’d be loved and taken care of, probably to the point of (affectionate) annoyance.

You take a breath, eyes finding his hopeful ones, your answer poised on your lips…

-------

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @Hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin 

[gabrielmarkanthony]

There is no one else for me but you ARS 🌹

[wildstar25]

MiqoMarch Day 23 - Midnight

With their intended voyage into the void only a few days out, Arsay thought it the upmost importance that she steal her partner away to Kugane, that they might share one more fond memory together should things not turn out the way they plan in the thirteenth. It was as they crossed the very same bridge the miqo'te had once sat on together two years prior when Arsay gifted Y'shtola with a bracelet matching that of her own. A token of endearment which, Arsay confessed, she would have given to her fellow scion back then, had nerves not gotten the best of her. While their relationship has undoubtedly changed since the initial purchase of the jewellery, the sentiment remained the same. Y'shtola was someone who Arsay loved dearly and she will forever be grateful to have the seeker's life intertwined with her own. No matter where their free spirits took them, they would always hold each other in their hearts. A promise Y'shtola was more than willing to keep. She slipped the the string of beads around her wrist without a second thought. They were never to come off, not even when the two decided to delay their return to Radz-at-Han in favour of a private bath at the dead of night.

[jinstronaut]

🥹🥹🥹

[mysticmikalla]

if you could have a first kiss with Sebastian, how would you want it to happen? 🙃

the timing for this question is so immaculate cause i just took some edibles the other day and thought about this exact scenario an embarrassing amount. made it into a short drabble because i need yall to get the ✨vision✨

**

Picture this: Sebastian lent you his copy of the latest volume of Cave Saga - Cave Saga X. It’s the final volume and the ending is like, really sad and you’re both obsessed with it. He’s already read it. You’re over at this place, sitting crossed-legged on his beat up couch on the last few pages.

He periodically peers over at you to gage your reaction as you flip through each page, flipping faster and faster as you get more anxious to get to the end. Sebastian notices your eyes blinking back tears, because, oh - you just got to the part where your favourite character dies. You stop flipping through the pages, then, eyes fixated on the one panel he knew you were going to hate.

“I don’t want it to end like this.” You mumble, and he smiles to himself, remembering the squeeze of his heart when he first read that scene. He reaches over to the comic resting on your legs, silently flipping over to the next page. You two stay like that for a while - silently reading the words on the pages together, him flipping the pages because he knows you won’t, otherwise.

You’re also hyper-aware of how close he is - you can smell the cigarettes and soap he uses. You can fee the tickle of his long fringe against your cheek when he leans over to finger through the thin papers of the book.

And finally, its the second to last page - you managed to hold back all but one tear at the demise of your favorite character. Honestly, you would’ve cried a whole lot more if Sebastian weren’t there. It was hard to shed too many tears when he was this close to you.

His hand lingered on the page, as if building up tension for the final page of a story that meant so much to you. Instead, his hand hovers on yours, then he grabs it gently. Was it his way of comforting you? Was it his way of letting you know that he understood, he’d gone through it just a couple of days prior?

He mumbled your name so silently you could’ve imagined it. “Hmm?” You hummed, voice as nervous as he felt. And when you mustered enough courage to meet his gaze, it was clear that his hand on yours was not just a comforting touch.

His chest took heavy breaths as his eyes fell to your parted lips. Before he had time to overthink it, he closed the gap between you, his kiss tentative until he felt you reciprocate.

Then Sebastian cupped your cheek, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss and feel you, all of you, with his hands on your waist and your hand tangling in his hair, only pulling away for ragged breaths before claiming you as his once more.

**

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO END THIS BUT HERE IT IS HAHAAH it sounded so much better in my head😭😭

[batsplat]

do you have a favorite bit of motogp gossip that you either want to know is it’s true, or you just enjoy as a stand alone piece, no need for further investigation?

one of those where I initially stared at and like. lost all motogp knowledge in my brain. and then stuff did come back to me. this is all very much low hanging fruit and I'll add to it when I remember more interesting/quirky ones. BUT here are some things I want to know:

y'know how casey randomly suggests in his autobiography that valentino was sabotaged in the 2006 title decider? so, personally, I don't really buy this, because 'why' and also 'casey girl you are SO paranoid' - though, sure, if given the option I'd like to double check if valentino had a dud tyre (completely plausible) and also if somebody really deliberately gave him one (?? casey idk about this one). but what I'm REALLY curious about is... there's a change in his autobiography?? like I've seen this book excerpt float around online and the text is different from what's in my book!! mine's from the paperback version so I assume there may have been some edits for that, so that would make it the newer version... but like. this is a real editorial change. check this out:

version posted on the internet, from the hard cover edition???

version in my book, first paragraph is the same

But as soon as the lights went out Valentino was in trouble. I was one of six riders to pass him on the first lap and if you watch the footage you can see how much he is struggling to even keep up with us. His rear and front tyres were just not working together and on lap five the front inexplicably folded and he went down, right behind me. I couldn't help but wonder how he could be having such problems with his tyres. Could he really have been stitched up? It seemed so improbable, but I remember watching that race back in the motorhome that evening and thinking, Welcome to my world, mate.

this isn't 'gossip' because I haven't found anyone else who has spotted this, but like? that's a substantive change? if my one really is the newer one? ...?

let's set aside the fascinating insight you get into casey's knotty and at times bizarre valentino rossi complex with him adding the line "welcome to my world, mate" (oh my god. please just take him to dinner. I will crowd fund this I literally just need to be able to listen in. casey come on CALL him I NEED you to do the dinner thing, YOU suggested it not me). like we're not going to even touch that. but if my version really is the updated one, then he's kinda softened his stance, no?? "convinced he was stitched up" to "could he really have been stitched up"

what happened?? who wanted this change? casey? an editor? did dorna give casey a call? did some poor bloke from pr have to politely ask whether casey could please not state in his autobiography that the most popular rider ever had had a title stolen from him by the establishment?

(casey was talking about valentino's stolen tenth BEFORE it was popular. he did it even before valentino did, bless)

"there are a lot of commercial interests in the sport" also didn't make the jump to the 'new version', mind you. did Big America get to casey

come on you guys have to admit this is an odd change?? does nobody else thing this is weird??

okay fine moving on

Did Valentino Literally Curse Sete

(like. not literally as in did he curse curse sete, literally as in did he say it)

(though if he did literally literally curse curse sete, I suppose I'd also like to know that bit)

the commentators in 2003 brno say so and I'm inclined to believe them, but I need to double check whether sete and valentino really were partying on ibiza together right after that very painful valentino loss at the sachsenring. such a fascinating little detail, that's not something post-2004 valentino does I reckon

I mean, look, obviously a bunch of things from that time period I want to have fact checked. including valentino's friend hearing sete say in late 2003 that valentino wasn't going to be smiling so much after joining yamaha. classic bit of gossip, did it actually happen though

I've referenced this a few times before, but y'know how valentino said that marc's manager alzamora told him after sepang 2015 that marc had been angry at valentino for killing his title charge? I just want. to know. if this conversation actually happened. I don't think valentino would pluck a lie like that out of thin air, especially something so specific about somebody on marc's team, and he has known alzamora for decades but like. maybe almazora just said something valentino misinterpreted? I just find this such a bonkers thing from alzamora if it's true that I would like it confirmed for my own sanity, you know?

yeah look I would like to know if marc really did get casey kicked out of honda, obviously I've discussed this before and it's very he said she said but yeah it'd be fun to know the truth

this is literally peak gossip because I can't find a source for it but I swear a journalist did say it: the rumour is that marc blocked joan mir from joining honda in 2019. like, I'm only including this because I was explicitly asked for gossip as I just cannot find where it was said... but it is something that is. out there. and... again, just curious. like I buy it, but also it could be bullshit!

on a similar note, did he ever make clear to honda he didn't want either vinales or rinsy on his team circa 2016? was it just a vibe in the paddock or was this an actual demand from marc?

speaking of!! the whole thing about alzamora basically rigging the moto3 teammate situation between rinsy and alex marquez to ensure the latter won the title that year. what was that all about, how far did they go there

switching to valentino now. this doesn't quite fit the remit of the question because it IS something I've investigated. and my conclusion is basically a big *shrug*

did valentino block casey from joining yamaha in either 2005 or 2006, and did he attempt to block jorge?

there are completely contradictory sources on the timeline here that do make me feel like there's a chance yamaha was just fucking with casey at the very least in 2006 and valentino had fuck all to do with it, which a recent interview from casey did actually hint at too... he made it sound like maybe yamaha was just using him to try to drive down the price of another rider (which would then presumably be jorge)

I just want to know! and the thing is, it was a matter of open paddock discussion that valentino blocked casey (jorge explicitly references it in in 2007), but something doesn't quite add up between what jorge, casey, colin edwards, articles from the time and lin jarvis have said on the subject! my current pet theory is that valentino blocked casey in 2005 from joining the satellite yamaha team in 2006 (weirdly casey doesn't really imply valentino was responsible for this one in his autobiography, but whatever) but NOT in 2006 (casey does imply valentino was responsible here, you see my problem). and yamaha was fucking around with all four of valentino, casey, jorge and edwards in late 2006/2007. but. yeah. I have unanswered questions

the entire 'alex marquez blocked from yamaha' situation.... again. something is off there. you know the story from late last year about how he was blocked in 2019 from joining the petronas team in 2021? this completely threw me, because there was an entirely different story about this YEARS back in 2018!! I initially assumed the two stories were about the same event, but it can't have been! one's him being blocked in 2019 for 2021, one's him being blocked in 2018 for 2019

from the descriptions of both there's also no confusing them. the 2018 story has to be about the 2018 contract cycle because that's quite literally when it was published, and the 2023 story has to be about the 2019 contract cycle because it explicitly references the space fabio would create by moving to the factory team for 2021, which obviously wouldn't make sense before fabio's actual rookie season. like they have to be about different stories

and in that same 2018 story, marc said that back in 2016 lin jarvis told him no marquez would be joining yamaha:

again, this was in 2018!!

plus, he did say back in 2016 that he'd spoken to jarvis, which kinda backs up this is a conversation that did happen and marc isn't just misremembering the timeline/lying (the notion of marc joining yamaha in 2017 is fantastic, what an absolutely horrendous idea):

now what marc says in 2018 about his conversation with lin jarvis is very similar to petronas yamaha boss razali saying in 2023 that he'd been told by yamaha no marquez was allowed at yamaha. suggests that this is a thing that did happen!!

but again... razali was told that in 2019... after marc had already been told the same thing three years before that, and the exact same deal had already been blocked one year earlier... does nobody else think this is weird?? like, I'm not saying yamaha hq covered themselves in glory here, but is it not a little strange the satellite yamaha squad had basically almost signed a contract with the younger marquez again without checking in with yamaha, just ONE YEAR after this same contract had already been blocked???

again this isn't actually gossip because I'm apparently the only person going ?? about this but I'll say it: ??

kinda been annoying me since december last year, like I know it doesn't matter but I'm just curious about it! why's nobody else talking about the 2018 story!

idk my best guess here is that petronas yamaha was faffing about and playing weird games with the factory team, that the deal was never as likely to happen as they made it sound to the marquez camp. zero proof, that's me spreading rumours yeah... time to create some of my own unfounded gossip

(also of course I'm curious if valentino did have any actual involvement in this. like if lin jarvis was telling marc this in the year of our lord 2016, I'm assuming valentino didn't have to explicitly say to jarvis that 'inviting marc to the team for 2017' wasn't exactly high on his christmas wish list. it is interesting that marc frames it as jarvis making this about. like. all the marquez's way back in 2016, and again, would this really have been on valentino's radar at the time? that feels a bit...? alex marquez was thirteenth in that moto2 season? would certainly be very... thorough for valentino to already have had that particular talk with jarvis)

(mind u there's a fun moment in a 2019 presser where valentino is sitting between the two marquez brothers and the younger marquez is being asked about his contract situation, the implication being he'd had a motogp deal and no longer had a motogp deal. and he's answering and marc's doing his freak stare and valentino is Right There sitting between them... I <3 mess)

man did valentino actually ever fucking block anyone from joining his manufacturer #notmygoat. I still think he didn't know about jorge until the deal was basically done, had nothing to do with the younger marquez, at most blocked casey the one time but then yamaha wasn't actually seriously intending on signing casey in 2006 and was just using it as a play in their jorge negotiations, which.... idk. bit disappointing if true icl. I hope he blocked someone, I'll say it

(also. okay. I don't want to sound awful here because I do have a lot of sympathy for baby!casey but. ignoring the morality for a second, I do LOVE the idea that valentino blocked casey from getting a satellite yamaha seat fresh off his 250cc runner up season because it would conclusively prove valentino did ABSOLUTELY rate casey!! like he didn't even want casey to come close to being his teammate!! not even a sniff at his data!!) (genuinely this is the rumour I'm choosing to believe, I know there's a chance valentino didn't successfully block anyone and was just a complete flop but I want the 2005 one to be true. it really adds something to the rivalry idk... like ugh valentino saw how dangerous casey was proper early when much of the paddock wasn't yet convinced... cute)

moving on

there was a rumour in 2015 that valentino approached dani after aragon to complain about how sturdy his defence was, like moaning about denying him points and shit. now, there's exactly one article about this in marca that is the sole origin point for the rumour, and it says that valentino also interrupted a honda party after phillip island to complain to marc. this does not match up at all with anything either marc or valentino have said since then - and would mean you have to believe that marc wasn't actually blindsided by that presser... also feels a bit unlikely we would have heard NOTHING from any other source if vale was really gatecrashing a honda party

of course, neither dani nor valentino have spoken about this supposed post-aragon 2015 meeting either, not even when dani was kinda accusing valentino of hypocrisy during sepang 2015, but I suppose you could say maybe dani's just not the type of guy to bring it up again. however.... I do reckon occam's razor kinda applies here and if one of these stories is bullshit then they probably both are, plus it's not like marca is exactly a neutral source. still would love to be certain!! instinctively I don't really think that's valentino's style at all, but of course it'd be intriguing if the story were true because it'd be a sign of how 2015 kinda messed with him. but I still feel 2015 is more about him falling back on past tools he'd mostly discarded - rather than, like, acting wildly out of character, which again... well, this brings us back to how that kind of behaviour isn't really valentino's style. basically, I don't buy it, but that's kinda why I am so curious about it? because I feel like it would be really interesting and quirky if he had actually done that. does this make any sense

speaking of, again this doesn't really count because I did kinda investigate it last year.... but you know when valentino in that podcast referenced a conversation with marc around the time of sepang 2015, where marc stared blankly at him? I have a hunch about when that conversation happened, want to know if it's right. this also isn't really 'gossip' because this is a conversation I'm having with myself but

y'know when bez was injured on the ranch late-ish last year? a bunch of journalists pointed out how hush hush they were about what actually happened to bez - like they repeatedly drew attention to that because god knows THEY love some gossip lol. which probably means nothing, but I'm curious what the journalists' theory here is, like do they think it was an embarrassing injury?? OR. look. I suppose the conspiracy theory would be that pecco caused it (obviously accidentally!!) and everyone at the ranch knew it'd be a terrible look if they admitted that because of the whole title fight situation. call me casey stoner because those dots are not real and definitely have not been connected

okay, you know how there were rumours in the spanish tabloids bez said some real ugly stuff to marc at valencia last year, and bez didn't directly address it but freaked a little and did a sort of blanket denial that he'd said anything that bad? I don't actually think he did tbh, but again. would just like to check!

while we're already on bez, there was one report that the switch to aprilia was partly motivated by marc to factory ducati. again, not entirely sure I buy that this would factor into his thinking beyond the obvious 'this means the route to that factory ducati seat looks even more closed than it already did' angle'.... it's very much down my list of priorities but I'd quickly confirm/deny it if given the chance yeah

that's all for now lol