Wait For It | Frankie “Catfish” Morales

@ porn blogs who keep following me

ghosts

—CHAPTER TWO: little things

pairing: Javier Peña x f! reader

previous part | next part | masterlist

a/n: a little look back in time, a little insight into what’s going on, a lot of pain and angst but maybe some hope ? these two a easily carving out a place in my heart, I hope y’all are as invested as I am bc there is def more to come

Falling in love with Javier had happened pretty fast. 

It wasn’t the exact moment you saw him, but it may as well have been. 

There was a gorgeous kind of levity to him as he hid his laughter behind the neck of the bottle of beer dangling so casually from his grip, a beautiful kind of stoicism to him as the mood around the table died off and the blonde man sat beside him pulled himself to his feet, tossed a few bills down and shuddered him with a sturdy hit to the shoulder. He surveyed the crowd out of what seemed to be genuine curiosity, scanning the field just like all the single men seemed to be, but there was a reverence in the delicious color of his deep eyes, something you didn’t know how to quantify as they landed on you. There was a depth to him that words could just never come close to describing. 

Maybe it would have saved you a lot of hurt if you had turned away the second you caught sight of him across the bar, but even at his worst, even as you cradled yourself, desperate for warmth beneath the thick woven stitch of the dark tones of the afghan blanket thrown over your shoulders, you couldn’t really imagine doing it different. 

No one made you grab your glass and meet him at the bar. It was all you. 

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i was thinking this morning about how i categorize fanfic authors that i enjoy like AKC breeds and decided to share my rubric with you:

the specialist: this author has a favorite kink or trope and has written 80% of the content in that tag. you know exactly what you’re getting. they have A Brand™️. no matter what other traits they display, dedicated rare pair authors belong here.

the chocolate box: essentially the exact opposite. this author will try anything once. they have 80+ works in the fandom with no discernible pattern. the shortest one is 268 words and the longest is well over 100k. this breed of author may or may not be related to:

the renaissance fan: they’ve written three things in your fandom: your favorite fic, your notp, and a bizarre crossover with a show you’ve never heard of. you hit “expand fandoms list” on their author page and have to scroll down twice to reach the bottom. whenever you curse the fact that you can’t legally commission fic writers, this is the author you’re thinking about.

the horn dog: they’re here for one thing and one thing only. if someone’s dick is not in another character’s mouth within 500 words, they apologize for it in the author’s notes. they have one (1) g-rated fic.

the rookie: this writer is usually young, new to fandom, or just got a beta-reader for the first time. their fics are a little all over the place, quality-wise, but you’re excited whenever their name pops up because their unique voice gets stronger every time. you feel a personal investment in their development, like you’re an old man reading the local high school sports page and saying “this kid’s the one to watch.”

the live streamer: the most prolific author in the fandom. their works are all over the front page when you sort by kudos. you have no idea how they generate this much work, and have seriously wondered if they have access to an extra-dimensional time portal. their stories are usually un-beta’d and the characterization varies wildly, but their best works are inspired and you’ve read them 30 times.

the cryptid: this one comes out of nowhere every two years, drops the best fanfic you’ve ever read, and disappears. fifteen months after you left a three paragraph comment about how they changed your life, you get a message in your inbox that just says “thanks.”

the novelist: we talk about “filing off the serial numbers” when someone reworks their most popular story to pitch it as an original novel; this author somehow does the reverse. their fics are excellent, usually long-reaching multi-chapter AUs that have almost nothing to do with the on-screen characters except their names. i’d like to extend my personal thanks to this breed of author because it’s the closest i get to reading an actual book.

the reunion tour: this author wrote some of the most popular works in the fandom, but either moved on to k-pop or burned out when canon took a turn for the worse. they put out one new thing a year, often an old draft that’s been haunting them from under the floorboards. their last six author’s notes all say they never thought they’d write this pairing again and “this will probably be the last time.”

who did i miss?

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

I don’t mean to sound like a bitch but I’m genuinely clueless and it might be because I don’t create on here but I don’t understand why y’all always upset about the “reblogs to likes” ratio. Imo Tumblr isn’t really the best place to post content since literally nothing you do here is monitizable but I guess it can be to get commissions. Or do y’all just genuinely like gif making and such that you just want people to appreciate your work? I just basically wanna hear your reasoning as to why the ratio bothers you

We just want people to appreciate our work. It’s as simple as that. The majority of us make content purely because we enjoy making it. We’re not looking to make money from it. Making gifs, edits and fan art can take hours, even days. Someone liking our work is nice enough but reblogging it means that more people will see it and therefore will lead to more notes. By just liking a gifset, edit, fan art and not reblogging is basically saying you don’t think it’s worth showing other people and it’s just really disheartening.

For your 100 follower requests: "More please" first kiss scenario with Tovar or Whiskey. WRITER'S CHOICE.

Alright this turned into something way bigger than I had planned. This sits at 2.7k. Don't ask me where the actual idea came from, I have no idea.

Also, I want you to know, I wrote the ENTIRE SCENE with the goats and then went "...I should make sure she likes goats."

Jack Daniels x f!reader. Meet cute at a county fair. No warnings, this is all cute fluff with kissing.

Without further ado, I present to you:

She Moves Through the Fair

You were standing off to the side of the crowds, by the animal housing. Your friend was 20 minutes late so far, which wasn’t like her. You’d texted her ten minutes ago to check in.

Finally, your phone buzzed.

Hey so sorry I forgot we were supposed to go today I can’t make it

You groaned out loud at that. Great. So now you were on your own at the county fair. You’d already paid the entrance fee, so you might as well stay now. This was not how you’d expected your day to go.

“Everything alright?”

You jumped, turning towards the voice. A man had come up behind you, hands stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a black Stetson. Your lips twitched against your will.

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Just a change of plans, is all.”

“You need any help?” The man offered you a little smile, brown eyes warm.

“No, thank you. I think I’m going to go pet some goats and… figure something out.” You shrugged.

His eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Figure something out? Are you here alone?”

“Yes,” you answered reluctantly.

“Well, I’d say I’m sorry, but this means I get a chance to escort a pretty lady today.” He smiled at you. “My own company found someone else to run around with, so I seem to be unattached for the day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t flinch, just waiting patiently. Well, he was handsome, that was for sure. Seemed to have manners. And if needed, you could definitely get away from him – this was a county fair, not a private event. There was security around. And if you kicked up a fuss, you’d get bystander support.

“Sure,” you agreed. “Why not. You might get bored, though.”

“I’ll be bored on my own, so if that happens, at least I’ll be bored in lovely company.” He winked at you, almost over the top, and smiled when you giggled. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

You gave him your name and shook his hand, amused.

“I believe you said something about goats?” Jack grinned at you, motioning you to go first. You nodded and headed for the nearest animal housing area, perking up a bit. Sheep over here. That was fine. You patted every sheep that came up to the fence, saying hi to each one. Jack kept pace with you and, to your surprise, he also chatted easily with the sheep. Mostly he snuck sly little comments about the “beautiful lady” he was with, making you grin every time.

“You’re quite a flirt,” you told him once the two of you finally reached the goats. “I think these guys will appreciate it more than the sheep, though.”

Jack threw his head back and laughed at that, bright and full-bellied. “You think so, huh?”

“Well, the goats are more active, usually,” you pointed out, as one headbutted your hand for attention. “Although if I were you I’d save the sweet talking for the pygmy goats, those things are too damn cute.”

“Favorites of yours, I take it?” Jack asked, leaning down a bit to pet a lazy goat who bleated at him without actually getting up.

“If I could, I would have like three of those,” you told him. “They’re so cute. And they’re a more manageable size than regular goats.”

“Looks like there’s some pygmies up there,” Jack pointed out, nodding to the end of the row.

“Don’t rush me, I’m getting there,” you shot back playfully. Jack just chuckled at you. “So, what brought you here today? You said you got ditched?”

“Promised a friend I’d come,” Jack told you with an easy shrug. “He wanted some help picking something out. ‘Course, soon as we’d done that, he got a call from another buddy of his and abandoned me to meet up with that group.” He shot you a flirty smile. “My gain, though.”

You chuckled. “Well, I dunno about that,” you murmured.

“I do.”

You felt your cheeks heat with blood and you ducked your head, momentarily flustered by his outright flirting. Then you smiled. “Well, we’ve got the rest of the day,” you pointed out. “I have no plans.”

“No?” Jack smiled. “Let’s see if I can’t change that.” He stepped around you, getting ahead of you, and winked before he sauntered off to the end of the row to the pygmy goats. He started chatting with an older gentleman on the other side of the fence, nodding back your direction once. You kept half your attention on him, curious what he was doing. But not quite curious enough to go butt in on the conversation. Instead you kept going down the row, petting goats.

At least until Jack trotted back over to you, looking smug as the cat that ate the canary. “Come on,” he told you, holding out a hand to you.

“What?”

“Come on!” Jack smiled, beckoning you again. You took his hand, and he promptly tugged you along over to the pygmy goats. The gentleman behind the fence opened up a section of fencing for you, ushering you both inside, and then efficiently herded you both into the pen with the pygmy goats.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes huge. There were five goats and three kids. The kids were teeny tiny, and promptly ran over to investigate the two of you.

“Sit,” Jack encouraged you. “They’ll nibble a bit, so watch your stuff.” He gently pushed one kid away from nibbling on the hem of his jeans.

You sat, eyes still huge, and let the kids and the mamas sniff you and climb on you. They were adorable and friendly, and you were having a blast. Definitely needed to get like three of these little guys. Someday.

“How did you…?” You finally asked Jack several minutes later, after the kids had worn themselves out a bit. One of them had fallen asleep with its head on your foot, and you were loathe to move.

“Just had a friendly chat,” Jack told you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” you told him with a blinding smile. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Jack’s smile turned a little softer, almost shy. “Well, why not?” he countered. “You got stood up, looks like, might as well make the best of your day now.”

You had no words for that, so you just smiled helplessly at him and scratched one of the mama goats when she wandered over to you.

You could have happily stayed there all day, but you did eventually get up. Mostly because your stomach was rumbling, and Jack insisted the two of you eat. So you got up, said goodbye to the goats (and thanked the owner), and made your way outside to a hand washing station.

“Bright,” you grumbled as soon as you were outside, squinting. “It was not this bright earlier.”

“You didn’t bring a hat?” Jack asked, tutting at you.

“Forgot it,” you admitted. You looked at him, reached up, and stole his hat, plonking it on your head with a cheeky grin. “This’ll work.”

Jack’s jaw dropped for a moment, and then he swallowed hard, looking you up and down. “Looks good on you,” he croaked.

“Thanks.” You flashed him a grin and reached out for his hand. “Food’s this way, come on.” He followed behind you easily, letting you lead the way.

The food area was, as usual, crowded and large. There were at least a dozen different vendors, all with different types of food, everything from pizza and hot dogs to turkey legs to gyros.

“What are you in the mood for?” you asked Jack, stepping out of the way and scanning the different offerings. “And if you say anything with fried dough before lunch, I’m walking away.”

Jack laughed at that, slinging an easy arm around your shoulders. You didn’t flinch at the touch, a little surprised at yourself. “Nah, I’m pretty easy to please. I usually go for a hot dog, or a sausage to start.” He winked at you, and you choked and spluttered for a moment.

“Go, I’ll meet you at a table,” you told him, waving him on. He hesitated for only a moment before he nodded, releasing you and striding off to get in line. You took a few moments to admire the view as he walked away. Mmm. Those jeans did great things for him from this angle. (From any angle, really, if you were being honest with yourself.)

You did tear your gaze away from him so you could trot off to get in line for your own food. Fortunately, things went quickly, and by the time you had your food and turned to look for Jack, he was flagging you down from an empty table. A smile stretched your lips – he was squinting at you. You still had his hat on. Your heart fluttered, just a little.

“You can have it back, if you want,” you told him, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat as you sat down next to him.

Jack smiled, slow and sweet as molasses. “Nah,” he said. “Looks good on you. Keep it.”

You returned the smile, and the two of you settled in to eat lunch. You finally learned a bit more about him – he worked at a distillery. Not one you’d heard of, though you absolutely did not claim to be a connoisseur of whiskey. In return, you told him a bit about your own job, and the friend who’d cancelled on you today.

“We come once a year,” you told him as the two of you cleaned up. “Well. She sometimes comes more often, but the two of us always come. We usually do a bit of early holiday shopping. Eat junk food. Stuff like that.”

“Well, we’ve eaten some junk food,” Jack said, glancing at your empty plates. “We’ll get to more of that later. Haven’t done any shopping, though.”

“I’m not dragging you through the vendor buildings,” you protested.

“Who says you’ll be dragging me, darlin’?” Jack shot back with an easy grin. “I’ll tell you if I get bored, promise. Now c’mon.” He grabbed your hand, towing you along with him. The crowds parted easily for him, and you couldn’t help a little huff of jealousy. Of course he’d get from point A to point B without being elbowed half a dozen times.

To your surprise, Jack was just as enthusiastic about shopping as your friend was. He had an eye for quality, charmed the vendors into giving you better deals, and ended up with multiple purchases of his own. He stopped and bought beef jerky in a variety of flavors. He sampled local honey with you. He even somehow ended up in a half hour discussion with a local vintner talking about barrels, of all things. That one you mostly just watched, perplexed, only half following the conversation. Watching Jack was far more interesting, anyway. He was a social chameleon, able to fit in at any and every booth he stopped at. Honestly, it was fascinating to watch.

Jack carried half of your bags for you, ignoring your protests, until you huffed and gave in.

The two of you zig-zagged back and forth through the vendor buildings for a solid few hours, until you cried mercy and Jack insisted on a snack break. He parked you at a quiet out of the way table, away from the main hustle and bustle of the fair, and vanished with promises to return with sustenance. You sat backwards on the bench so you could lean back against the edge of the table, smiling. Your day had certainly turned out much better than you would have guessed.

Jack came striding back with a funnel cake, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I haven’t had one of these in years,” you told him, amused as you took one of the forks.

“It is a fair,” he told you with a wink. “Haveta get something fried here, darlin’.”

“Fair enough.” You smiled at him, sitting closer than was strictly necessary on the bench to share the funnel cake with him. The quiet was easy between the two of you, comfortable and relaxed. The fair noises were a little quieter here, and nobody even passed by your table.

“You’ve got a little somethin’,” Jack said, pointing to his own cheek to demonstrate. You swiped at your cheek, and he shook his head. “Nope, still there.” After watching you wipe your cheek again, he chuckled. “May I?”

“Okay,” you agreed, heart tripping and then slamming into double time. Jack reached over slowly, giving you plenty of time to move, and his thumb swiped across your cheek, then again. You leaned into the touch, and his hand cupped your cheek instead.

“Can I kiss you, darlin’?” he asked, voice low and quiet.

“Yes.”

Jack leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. His moustache tickled a little, making you smile into the kiss. His hand was warm against your cheek as he held you there, pulling back a little.

“More, please,” you murmured, still smiling at him.

“With pleasure.” Jack kissed you again, a series of gentle kisses that slowly became less chaste until he finally pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open – when had you closed them? Jack was smiling, his thumb sweeping across your cheek again.

“I think we can safely say you rescued the day,” you murmured, smiling.

“It’s my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack assured you. He kissed you one more time, apparently unable to resist, and then sat back. “What else is on your agenda for the day?”

You pulled out your phone for the first time in hours to check the time and make sure you hadn’t missed any actually important messages. Nothing important. And it was getting later than you’d realized.

“I should probably head home soon,” you said regretfully. “I don’t usually stay for the music stuff. Too loud.”

“I understand.” Jack smiled. “Well, then, darlin’, you say the word and I’ll help you to your car.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested, already knowing it was useless and unable to hide your smile.

“I insist,” Jack told you with a grin of his own. “My mama’d box me ‘round the ears if I didn’t.”

You giggled at that and shook your head. “Come on, one more walk down the main road, just in case anything catches our attention.”

The two of you stood, Jack once again stealing most of the bags (although you had to admit he had them stacked and set inside each other to make things easier), and then you were off. You were at the far end of the fair, so you had a nice stroll towards the front. It was just about the point at which the type of crowd changed – the families with children were leaving, and the teenagers and young adults were starting to swarm in for the musician of the night.

Honestly, you were loathe for the night to end, but you needed to get home.

“Thank you for today,” you told Jack as the two of you walked back to your car. “Really.”

“It was my pleasure, darlin’,” Jack told you. He set down your bags in your car and then boxed you in against the side of your car, tipping his hat (which was still on your head) up so he could kiss you again. And again. And again. Finally he stepped back, lips shining and red, eyes dark. “I’ll see you again soon, darlin’.”

“Your hat,” you started.

“I’ll get it next time.” Jack gave you one last lingering kiss before he took two big steps backwards. “Go on home. Check your bags. We’ll talk soon.” He winked you and turned, walking away.

It took every ounce of willpower you had not to either go after him or immediately dig through your bags to find out what he was talking about. Instead you drove home as calmly as you could, the hat placed safely on the passenger seat. As soon as you were parked, you were gathering up the bags and the hat and bolting inside to find whatever he had left you.

A small bag that you didn’t recognize was tucked into one of the bigger bags. Inside was a pair of earrings you had talked yourself out of buying, citing that they were out of your price range, and a business card. The business card had two numbers: office and cell. Jack Daniels. The simple note written on it made your heart soar.

Call me anytime, darlin’. I’ll see you soon.

--

Tags: @fandom-blackhole @pedrocentric @beskarprincessjenny @sarahjkl82-blog @cannedsoupsucks @liviiii98 @adriiibell @seasonschange-butpeopledont @princessxkenobi @thirddeadlysin @pbeatriz @oonajaeadira @kiizhikehn-cedar @green-socks

ghosts

CHAPTER ONE: nocturnal thoughts

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

next part | masterlist

a/n: so this was just supposed to be a little snippet where I expanded on a drabble I wrote for @tiffdawg around Halloween (👻) and it became a lot more ;) I have more ideas, I may or may not write them, feedback as always is appreciated !!

Nights like these were the worst kind. 

Faster than the wind could blow, whipping it’s way through the open windows of the jeep with a cool and haunting whistle, the hours got away from you, ticking away minute by minute until there was more moonlight in the sky then there were headlights in the streets, forcing you back on the same promise you made every morning. The same promise you hoped with every inch of your being, every ounce of your exhausted heart, that you might actually be able to keep. 

Every morning you promised. Every morning he believed you. 

And every night he ended up in bed. Alone. 

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just the rushing wind on a rolling mind

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

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you weren’t mine to lose Masterlist

Summary: Din Djarin is an honorable man.  He will not take what is not his. 

Pairings: Din Djarin x Female reader

Warnings: M, cursing, canonical type violence, implied smut. Eventual smut. Will change rating accordingly. 

Notes: A  grouping of one shots centered around Taylor Swift’s Folklore and Evermore albums.

cancelled my plans just in case you called

been saying yes instead of no

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

she would have made such a lovely bride

faith forgotten land