#she earned that shot. nice and quick and in the throat. be thankful it wasnt messier.

[bleuberrygliscor]

as someone who lives here, go to fucking hell Anon. these ‘protests’ are not peaceful, they never were. This is NOT the first time these bozos have showed up in DC with the sole purpose of looking for a fight. You have video evidence of these asshats attacking press, destroying their equipment and then shouting “We’re coming for bodies.” (x)

Living in DC, i’m used to protests and the like, used to road closures, used to blockades and re-routes and curfews. I have only been called a nigger to my face twice, once while away in Charlotte NC and another while working retail during the 2016 inauguration by some trump merch toting out-of-towers, pissed because we didnt have the SD card they were looking for.

I am NOT used to cops apprehending people, the leader of a white supremacist group at that, smuggling large rounds of ammunition into my city, which explicitly prohibits that. (x) I am NOT used to my grandmother calling me to make sure I stay my round brown ass in the house because there was talk that they were going to wander the streets looking for fights again. She survived Klan infested North Carolina, I have never seen her worry for my and my brother’s safety like this. I am NOT used to having people break into the Capitol. I know non-dmv folks may not know, but you are NOT allowed inside the Capitol without reason, especially not during meetings and ESPECIALLY NOT FUCKING ARMED YOU ABSOLUTE SMOOTH BRAINED IDIOT. ( x )

You cannot fucking OBSERVE a Congressional hearing? the fuck is wrong with you??? This shit aint C-Span?? can you use your brain for one second and think about the consequences of allowing just ANYONE to roll into congress and observe shit?

Do NOT get me started with them breaking into Pelosi’s office. I dont care much for her but i DO care for whatever classified information could have been in that office. I DO care that we maintain some semblance of decency and not throw a fucking hissy fit because our colour didnt get the most most voterinos this time.

DC is not just uppity ass Government buildings and Congress people. I fucking live here, people fucking live here. We pay taxes and we dont even get a fucking say in the dumb shit yall do in congress. But were supposed to keel over and let a bunch of violent limp dicked idiots roll up because Facism daddy didnt win. let fuckers with Actual Holocaust novelty shirts just mosey on through? First Amendment uwu ( x )

Her apparently pregnant ass flew to DC, on the day the votes were being certified, Went to the protest wearing a trump flag, followed a bunch of people storming the fucking Capitol building, breaking shit and standing outside of the Chambers. She tried to climb through a window they had broken to get in and she was rightfully neutralized for it. ( x - this alternate angle has since been removed due to it showing her being shot. however you can CLEARLY see her trying to enter the chamber through the broken window) ( x - here is another video. Fuck Gooptecks but incase you wanted to watch your ‘peaceful protester’ try to INVADE CONGRESS AFTER BEING TOLD NOT TO then here you go uwu)

Bitch Fucked around and she Found out.

Protesters aren’t fascists. It was peaceful until an officer shot and killed a woman for wanting to observe the session and they called in the national guard to disperse them despite being completely within their constitutional rights. Nice job creating more alarm fatigue around a word that used to have actual weight.

the woman was shot AFTER the mob breached the Capitol building, and no sources I’ve seen thus far actually identify the shooter? but nice try. were you this adamant about constitutional rights when that crowd was tear-gassed just so Trump could get a photo op in front of a church?

also, you expect anyone to believe that the people storming the U.S. Capitol after Trump’s fascist ass encouraged it AREN’T fascists themselves? a fascist by any other name is still a fascist.

[mudhornchronicles]

dreamboat | greaser!frankie | part four

pairing: frankie morales x reader; greaser!frankie x reader

warning: cursing, talking down, and feels

a/n: listen… I know the song mentioned in this part was released before their time and I’ve tried my hardest to stay within this timeline but it just went so well. sue me. also... do ya’ll like the moodboard i did? c:

part one | part two | part three | part four

masterlist

No matter what you were doing, homework or chores, your mind is always drifting off to Frankie. 

and so did Frankie’s.

The urge to talk to him became stronger every time you saw him in class because you truly enjoyed his company. You liked him because he never tried to be someone he was not - he was true to himself.

You were enamored by the way he spoke so passionately about his mother and his favorite pastimes. You felt a ripple of joy when you had seen his eyes light up when you complimented his father’s car. You also caught yourself giggling like a schoolgirl at the sight of his cheeks reddening at your comment about his “cute dimple.” 

You may have not known Frankie for long, but from the time you’ve spent with him, the more at ease you felt. 

Frankie didn’t miss the quick glances you shot his way, but he also knew you didn’t miss the way he paid more attention to the way you adjusted your pencil when you tried to understand the day’s lesson than to the lesson itself. 

Frankie took a mental note at the fact that you took great pride with your hair. Even though there were endless ways of styling your hair, Frankie’s favorite was your go to up-do with a ribbon that always matched your skirt. It was simple, yet so elegant at the same time. 

You packed your grey spiral notebook and #2 pencils in your school bag and settled the leather strap on your right shoulder. Your class let out early, which you were thankful for. You were tired from running to your first period after missing the bus and having to catch a ride with Max - making him late in the process. You walk into the hallway, ready to take the stairs for your math class when you hear a throat clear behind you. You assumed it wasn’t for you and as you placed a hand on the handrail, you hear Frankie speak your name.

You look back and flash him a tired smile. “Good morning, Francisco.” You check the giant black and white clock and cough up a chuckle. “Actually, good afternoon.”

Frankie looks around to see students’ eyes widen when they hear you call him Francisco. Shit, Frankie thinks. 

“C’mon baby.” Frankie silently chastises himself. “Don’t be runnin’ that pretty little mouth with my government name ‘round here.”

You stood dumbfounded. “Excuse me?” 

Frankie leans back on the cement wall and chuckles. “Y’heard me… Listen sweetheart. I-” He abruptly stops and glares at the gawking students. Freshman, he thinks.

“Was I talkin’ to you? Get the fuck outta here before I give ya a reason to stare.” and with that they scram. You frown and scoff.

“Goodbye, Frankie.”

“No.” He gently grabs your arm and turns you back to him. “Can we please talk? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“Frankie let go of me.” You tug on your arm, trying to set it free from is grasp. “I’ll be late for math class.”

Frankie lets out a laugh, the laugh you liked hearing. “It’s a short day,” he says. “School’s out for the day.”

“Is today Wednesday?” you question.

Frankie nods and smiles, revealing his perfect dimple. “You got a ride home? Lorenzano told me you got him detention.”

Your mouth drops. “He got detention? Oh no! That was not my intention at all! I was let off easy.” You shake your head in disbelief. “If he’s in there I should be too. Excuse me, Frankie.”

Frankie throws his head back in laughter and holds you in place. “I’m kiddin’, doll. I just saw ‘em leave with Goldilocks.”

“Goldilocks?”

“Michael, sweetheart. I gotta teach ya these names. He was your ride, wasnt he? How ‘bout I take ya home?”

You rub the back of your neck and shake your head slowly. “That won’t be the best idea, Frankie.”

“‘Cause of ya folks?” You nod and decide your shoes are much more interesting to look at than the brown swirls of chocolate that rest in his eyes.

“What do they say ‘bout me?” You look back up and your eyes shift to a doe-like look.

“C’mon dolly. Just tell me.”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other as you bite your lip, trying to find the words to say. “They said you aren’t what I need to be seen with. That your only goal in life is to ruin what they worked so hard to have. My mother said you were only going to use me for the opportunities I earn and use them for yourself and that I should just forget you.” You let out a deep sigh and look into his eyes.

You see his jaw shift side to side and take in a deep breath. He looks at you and says, “and do you believe them?”

“No. Not one bit.”

Frankie takes one of your hands into his and smiles. “Good. I won’t make you any more late to the bus than I already have.” Frankie gestures to the hallway that stretches down and meets the entrance of the building. 

“But I do have a question for you.” You nod, motioning for him to continue. “You wanna go on a ride with me?

“I thought you hid your car?”

“I never said anything about my car. How ‘bout it, dolly? Let me take you on a joy ride.”

You hesitate and Frankie notices this. “Do you trust me?”

He continues to play with your fingers and you give his hand a small squeeze.

“I do.” you smile. “Pick me up at the same spot as the last time, okay?”

———

You can’t help but feel worried, yet excited all at the same time. When you heard the roar of Frankie’s motorcycle, a smirk crept up and planted itself at your lips. You turned and saw Frankie ride up and park right next to you, kicking the stand and stabilizing the bike before walking over to you.

“So this is what you meant by a ride, huh?” Frankie smiled proudly and nodded. “Yep. This here is Delta. Finally finished her a couple months back. Whatd’ya think? Ain’t she a beaut?”

You walked around the bike, analyzing it and committing her details to memory. “She’s a Harley FL? She looks like a ‘41 or ‘42.”

Frankie looks back at you with an amused look. “You know bikes?”

You smiled and nodded. “My uncle owns a shop upstate.” You comment. “His prized possession is a 1935 Vincent Comet. He’s very proud of it. It doesn’t move, but it looks nice.” You joke. 

“I think I just fell in love with you, doll. You can’t just whip this on me so suddenly.” You laugh with him and smile to yourself.

I think I just fell in love with you, doll. 

“Before we go, I need you to wear this.” He says handing you a silver and red helmet. You frown and pat the crown of your head. “But it’ll frizz and flatten my hair”

He pulls a white bandana from the inside of the helmet and hands it to you. “It won’t, trust me. My mom wears this all the time and her hair is still higher than the empire state.”

“I do trust you, Frankie.” You chuckle. You bring his hands, bandana in between, and motion for him to tie it for you. This brings him close. His face is close to yours - his lips closer than ever. 

He ties it in place and cups your cheek. Your eyes are glued on each other and that feeling of being content flows back into your system. He clears his throat and hands you the helmet, unbuckling it before you take it into your hands.

He helps you onto the back of the bike and before he can get on, you spot his school bag tied to the side of the bike. “What’s with the bag?”

“It has something for us. Don’t worry, doll. You’ll see soon.”

———

Who knew this place had such a view. Frankie drove up through windy roads, the elevation making your ears pop, but the result was breathtaking. He pulled up to a flat section of the mountain, nearly at the top, and you could see the navy image of the mountain range serving as the background of the miniscule outline of the town.

Frankie helps you off the bike, placing a helmet on each of the handles. He unties his bag for the bike, grabbing your hand and leading you towards a grassy area. He opens his bag revealing a squared white tablecloth, snapping it and placing it on the ground. He helps you onto the fabric and allows you to get settled before he sits and re-opens his bag. He snaps his bag shut and looks at you. He calls your name, and you give him your full attention, which he has had from the beginning.

“Would you like to have a picnic with me?” he shyly says. Your cheeks burn at the sight of his timidity. “I would love to, Frankie.”

From his bag, he pulls two glass soda pop bottles nestled in paper napkins, two wrapped sandwiches, candy bars, and a bag of potato chips. He sets your share of the foods in front of you and sets the candy choices in front of both of you.

“I didn’t know what candy your favorite was, or if you even eat candy, but I brought us some options.” He proudly says. In front of you were a plethora of candy: snickers, gummi bears, kit-kats, m&ms, junior mints, and tootsie pops. You grabbed your favorite and thanked him.

You weren’t used to be treated with the amount of kindness as Frankie was giving you. You had been courted before, but they all believed that gifts were the way to your heart, but, you just wanted a good conversation.

“Frankie, can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask me anything you want, doll.”

“Why are you so set on being around me?”

Frankie shrugs, opening his sandwich. “You’re a cool chick.”

You nod in agreement and giggle. “Alright… You’re a cool cat too Frankie… well when you’re not getting arrested.”

Frankie playfully rolls his eyes and lets out a loud groan. “That was one time.”

You give him a nudge and when you are certain he’s looking; you start to mock him.

“Please Mr. Jailer…. Won't you let my man go free…”

Frankie lets out a hearty laugh. “That’s unfair!”

“Please Mr. Jailer,” you continue. “Won't you let my man go free.” You both cackle and howl until you’re out of breath.

“C’mon! How ‘bout ya give my criminal record a break and eat your sandwich!”

You looked at the plastic wrapped sandwich and grinned. “Did you make these yourself?” He nods with a mouthful of food and hums uh huh. You enthusiastically unwrap the sandwich and take a big bite. You let out a moan in delight as the flavor of seasonings attack your tastebuds. It’s not too spicy, but it’s also not bland – making it one of the best sandwiches you’ve ever had.

“This is amazing. What’s in it?”

“Um.. swiss cheese, a mayo and chipotle sauce thing my mom put together, crushed chips, and seasoned chicken. My mom wanted to be different and used chicken instead of ham, I guess.”

“Well tell your mom that she’s a genius. This is incredible.”

Frankie sniggered. “I’ll pass it along. She’s an excellent cook. You’ll have to try it sometime.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

You both sat and ate quietly. No words were spoken – simply taking in the scenic view. You look over to Frankie, only to see him in a daze. There was a question that lingered in your mind and although you didn’t want to ruin the moment, you knew you had to ask. You whisper his name, hoping he would hear it, and he did. He slowly turned over to you and uttered a low yes.

“Why do you act differently when we’re together in public than in private?” You vocalized the confusion that lingered in your mind from the moment he flipped a switch at school. “You’re sweet, smart, and caring while we’re here doing this, but all you do at school is curse, skip class with the boys, and disrespect anyone that looks at you a little too long.”

Frankie knew this conversation would come. He didn’t think you would notice his attitude changes, yet here you were. He lets a sigh be exhaled through his nose as he shakes his head. “You just wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t. That’s why I’m asking.”

“I act the way I do because that’s what people expect. They expect someone like me to fail and…You have no idea what this town… what these people… can do to you.”

“Frankie… I may not know what you’ve gone through in life, but what I do know is that you have my shoulder to lean on and my ears to listen when you need it the most. I like seeing this Frankie.” You sit up, resting your weight on your legs, and reach for his hand. “The Frankie that gets good grades and has a great sense of respect and responsibility – not the Frankie I saw at school today.”

He looks down at your interlocked hands and lets out a content breath. Frankie gives your hand a squeeze and gazes at you – not at your eyes… this look goes much deeper than that.

“Does your mother really believe I’d use you and toss aside the one person that decided to get to know me before they wanted nothing to do with me?”

You shrug, knitting your eyebrows. “She can think what she wants to think – just know that’s not the way I do.”

A cool breeze picks up as you continuously play with each other’s hands and sit comfortably in close proximity. Frankie reluctantly lets go of your hand and shimmies out of his leather jacket. He wraps it around your shoulders, making sure your exposed arms are somewhat covered. You take a lapel in each hand, pulling on them to wrap yourself with the jacket. Frankie’s heart skips a beat as he takes a mental picture of the way you looked wearing his jacket.

Frankie sits back down, but you nudge your way closer and closer to him. You feel like melting as you smell his cologne, from the jacket and himself.

“What are you going to do about Michael?”

Frankie looks taken aback from the sudden question. “Don’t worry that pretty little head about him. The boys and I will handle the trust fund baby. I’ll figure it out.”

“Are you going to get hurt?”

Frankie stretches his arm out, a quiet plea for you to come closer. You oblige and he immediately wraps his arm around you, placing a chaste kiss atop you head. “I don’t know.”

You put your head on his shoulder and hug him, both arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“No one will get hurt if Mikey boy plays his cards right.” You look up and see his softened face, but stern eyes. The thought of Michael alone burns a flame in Frankie, a reaction he had no actual reasoning behind.

You stay like this for a few minutes, but you decide to lighten the mood.

“Psst…” you say. Frankie looks down at you with kind eyes.

“I know that no other… One will ever do… And I know that the answer's…All up to you.” you sing.

Frankie sniggers and rolls his eyes, but nevertheless joins you.

“Please Mr. Jailer… Won't you let my man go free.”

———

dreamboat taglist:

@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @funerals-with-cake @seasonschange-butpeopledont @danniburgh​ @curiouskeyboard

taglists + requests are open!