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musings-of-a-rose · 4 months

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All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

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 not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)? Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery.

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case.

Sexy would not begin to describe this man.

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms.

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes.

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up.

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it.

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us.

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding.

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks.

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man.

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee.

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order.

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks.

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus.

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there.

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?”

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look.

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.”

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away.

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it.

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement.

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer.

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity.

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin.

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy.

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later.

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm.

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name.

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly.

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

General Taglist:

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darcydoesfuckall · 1 month

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Fun Fact!

Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

[...]

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

An excerpt from this post about why you should comment on AO3

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #GO fandom I'm looking at you #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable wives #ineffable husbands fic rec #ineffable idiots #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses

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kirbyskisses · 2 years

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kirby’s kinktober (eight)

virginity//reno

i don’t usually do author’s note but this is the longest thing I’ve written in two years if not ever?? so if you like it or the rest of my kinktober stuff i am BEGGING for you to reblog and comment. the algorithm doesn’t count likes. and as always minors/ageless blogs don’t interact. also, use lube and pee after sex, kids.

“virgin surgeon” reno who loves you and loves the idea of corrupting you, his cute inexperienced girlie.

reno who loves being the person to introduce you to pleasure you’ve never felt before, fingers stroking over your panties.

“god you’re soaking baby. you’ve really never had someone make cum before?” he gives a teasing smirk that makes you feel all sorts of embarrassment. despite the mischief in those green eyes, he coos with genuine affection, hand shifting softly across your cheek.

“aw. don’t worry baby, i’m just teasin’. i get it really. you’ve been busy being so amazing and badass, there’s never been a man or woman good enough to touch you. well,” he chuckles, “‘cept me, of course. and I…” he gets down onto his knees and starts kissing at your thighs as you stand, legs spread just a bit and hand covering your heated face.

“i am honored.”

his index finger hooks to your panties and pulls the thin covering to the side, exposing the way that just him rubbing his fingers onto your hard clit makes you drip.

“reno…”

“ssshhh. now. you ever made yourself cum?” he snickers, looking up at your face and his you gasp when his soft thin lips kiss the hard little bud.

“actually don’t answer that, baby. i like thinking that i get all your firsts - first orgasms included. now sit back on the bed baby.” he rubs your outer thighs as your trembling legs take a seat and attempt to cross.

“no, no, no. keep these open. and take your panties off. relax.” you do as he says because clearly he knows what he’s doing and he sticks his tongue out, letting you see the piercing in the middle as he twists his fingers into tiny circles around your slick covered core.

“reno-“

“mhm?” he responds, absentmindedly. he’s clearly more focused on leaving little closed mouth kisses on your now uncovered pussy and the skin of the thighs surrounding it.

“‘s not fair!” if his hands weren’t subduing your legs you’d be lightly kicking like a petulant child and he finds it adorable.

“all’s fair in love and war, baby girl. tell me, what’s the matter? ya scared?”

“n-no! you’re just… still in clothes and all focused on me. you should feel good too.”

he laughs. this time not in his usual teasing way but out of a genuine inability to reconcile your lewd intentions with just how?? damn?? cute??? you are.

“d-don’t laugh at me! you know i’ve never done this before.” you pout, almost closing your legs again before he rests his cheek on your thigh.

“i know cutie. it’s just… it’s so freaking adorable how much ya care.” he leans up to kiss you, not taking his gaze off of yours. “taste yourself on my lips? how juicy you are? getting to feel all those juices and all that heat on my dick from the girl i love,” he sighs as if he’s daydreaming, watching you yelp out as a thin, long finger finally penetrates your hole, “that’s gonna be enough for me to feel good.”

“y-you love me?” you question through bated breath as his finger explores inside you.

reno had never said it before to you or any girl who he’s dated or “helped” but now it seems all soft and genuine.

“ ‘course i do. don’t forget that, okay baby? i know you’re scared bc i’ve got experience but ‘m here to help you. to love you.”

he won’t say but he’s never been this slow and gentle before - nor has his teasing and praise been so genuine. partially out of love but partially because no other girl has caved to his touch like you or been so inexperienced.

virginal? yes. but not even having made themselves cum? with a pussy this pretty and soft? he wants to savor it. to savor you.

“and to love this pretty cunt. it’s so hard to hold back baby.”

“it is?” he can hear your voice change pitch when he slides another finger in, scissoring and swirling to prep and stretch you, changing pace with each of your moans.

“baby. if gettin’ you ready wasn’t so important, I’d want to sink my whole cock in and fu-“ he catches himself, “make love to your pretty body asap.”

you don’t even have time to react to the statement before his fingers touch that sweet little spot inside. you muffle a cry as he tortures and touches it faster.

“don’t. don’t hide such pretty noises.”

“reno!!”

“i know. i know that’s your spot right? an’ i’m the first to touch it.” there’s an almost maniacal glee in his voice.

“feels… feels weird!” your hips jerk and try to pull away but his other hand holds you, pushing you into the pleasure by the small of your back.

“cutie, breathe. It’s supposed to feel like that before you cum. you want me to make you cum, yeah? don’t run, i’ve got you.”

you nod, tears welling and a surprising mix of a moan and a whimper leaving your lips when his tongue plunges in, open mouthed kisses and sucking motion overwhelming your clit as you buck your hips into it.

“reno! reno -reno -reno!”

his cock hardens at your overstimulated cries but also at the thoughts on his head. holy shit - if your cunt is this juicy and tight on his tongue and fingers, he’d get fucking addicted to how it feels on his growing cock.

those thoughts came to fruition the second your fingers pull him off by his soft red hair. his eyes meet your teary ones and he almost feels a pit in his stomach - please don’t be crying. please don’t tell him to stop.

“r-reno. no more.” you sniffle.

fuck. no. did he fuck up? he fucked up and ruined his chance. perhaps even your relationship -

“wanna cum for the first time on your…your… your c-cock…”

reno who feels his heart flutter at that. who can’t hide the intense grin as he pins your down. at seeing your innocent lips struggle to even say “cock.”

you weren’t crying because he’d done something wrong - but because he was doing it all too right. you were heaving and shaking from making him pull away. ruining your own orgasm.

which, he chuckles to himself as he undresses, is probably what you’d been doing since the first time you’d tried to make yourself cum.

“hold your legs back. yeah like that. keep it nice and wide open for me. that way it’ll slide in nice and deep. with how wet you are it’ll go in nice and easy. i’ll even start you little by little - gonna treat this pussy so well.”

he whispers in your ear, grinding on your wet, sloppy core. even just talk you through it is taking all of his self restraint.

reno’s a liar.

he was right that it doesn’t hurt because of the excess of lubricant you’ve provided him, but he barely takes it little by little.

it feels like mere seconds between him pushing in the head of his cock and sinking balls deep.

“holy shit!” his eyes widen. he’s taken virginities before but never has anything sucked him in, so plush and perfect and soaking him. he almost cums on entry, ruining any chance of fully going slow when he touches your g-spot, the bundle of nerves making you seize and trap him in.

“your fucking cunt doesn’t want to let me go, pretty girl. breathe. breathe and relax and I’ll make you cream. you make me feel better than anyone or anything else, love.”

that comment does manage to make you relax a bit, mind clearing enough to match his pace as his red strands of hair stick to his forehead from sweat, your loving touch gently sweeping them away.

he manages to pull out and slam back into that pretty spot, as far back as he can go, making you whimper and cry.

reno’s not sure which sounds turn him on more - the ones from the bed, your mouth or your pussy - but it keeps him thrusting and grinding until he fogs up your innocent little brain and your body molds to his.

“keep those legs open, pretty girl. you don’t rest until I make this pussy cream and don’t even think about running from it. you need to cum, dontcha?”

and so he makes it happen. he kisses you deeply, thumbs your clit and strokes deep and suddenly you clench and climax around him.

you look so lost in pleasure.

you cry, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him against you. in the aftermath of your orgasm he can't resist a few more thrusts before pulling out and losing himself as well, dripping onto the bed sheets.

reno who, thoroughly satisfied with himself, kisses your forehead.

“that was amazing. you’re amazing. you’re the only girl for me, baby. let’s take a piss and get you all cleaned up and massaged.”

#smut #full fic #kirby’s kinktober #reno of the turks #reno x reader #ff7 x reader #ff7 #final fantasy x reader #final fantasy vii #advent children #reno #x reader #sorry for any mistakes

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quinnthebard · 10 months

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As I’m seeing a lot of people returning to Tumblr (like I had about 8 months ago or something), I thought I’d put some of my thoughts down on how Tumblr differentiates culture-wise in comparison to Twitter. This isn’t going to be a “How-to” in order to functionally use the space. This isn’t another warning post about how to not be considered a bot by other users. This is simply going to be what one can and will expect to see while using this website, however temporary, while Twitter is Twitter-ing. Tumblr interactions are different than Twitter interactions. Twitter is like snappy and quick. It moves along, people just say whatever comes to their head and then move onto the next post. Tumblr is a long-form media. People don’t necessarily comment unless prompted? Don’t expect people to react beyond a like and reblog unless they have something that adds substance (most times) to the conversation. That’s just the nature of the beast. If you’re moving from Twitter to Tumblr and you expect it to be a seamless transition to the same amount of interaction that you received on the other platform, you won’t get it. Not unless you put in work. People are more hesitant to interact. They want a deeper relationship than a quick quip. They want people to show they care to a degree. I’m not saying parasocial relationships as friends or something but any amount of proper investment in the other’s thoughts / feelings is generally a thing I’ve seen between users who do interact. BNFs are less common here. Sure there are art blogs that are generally well-followed and so on, but don’t expect your hot take to blast off into the stratosphere. People here don’t really like drama. They just like their special interest at the moment, want to talk to like-minded people, and move on. There is no algorithm! Honestly, I love that. It removes that pressure to get likes and reblogs for me. I just shout into the void and if someone responds, great! Posts get traction primarily through followers and tagging. If someone follows a tag, it’ll appear for them in order among the other tags, that’s just how it be. Everyone is on an equal playing ground. No one gets priority because an algorithm decided that they have “better content” than others. Want to make friends? [fucking hell I pushed enter too early lmao] Be friendly. Interact. Have fun. That’s what we’re all here for. I might have more to say but I’ll just reblog and add later but I thought it was important to share this stuff because I see a few misconceptions about the culture and wanted to help others adjust <3 Source? I guess? I was here a lot too much from 2010 to 2013

#twitter #new to tumblr #just casual advice #YMMV #best wishes to all the new users!

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catboybiologist · 6 months

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Hey, transfem who has only started to like her body about half a year ago here

As someone who takes a lot of pictures of themselves, do you have any resources/tips for angles or something that accentuates feminine features?

Also in regards to having a somewhat normal facial expression, like my eyes look so weird in every picture I take bc I don't know where to look

This response ended up WAY longer than I expected, and I think Imma add it to my pinned post- thanks for pushing me to talk about this! I don't think I'm really an expert here, but if people want to leave more advice in reblogs and comments, please do.

So when I say "I had two years of femboy experience before transferring to the related (and potentially overlapping) but separate field of trans womanhood" I'm only like... half joking. Selfie angles took a fucking wild amount of time for me to figure out, and guess what? The pictures I post are usually 1-3 in a set of about 20 that I take at any given time. I'm still unhappy with most pictures I take, you just gotta take a lot of them, and figure out for yourself.

That said, I think I have gotten a lot better over time. Behold, the first selfie I posted on reddit (warning for kinda cringe but I know y'all fuck with that):

(Damn, my thighs look good when I properly shave, gotta do that sometime)

(btw I'm 23 in this pic so feel free to simp if you so desire)

And another early one:

This was still selected from a bunch that were horrible, but you can really tell that my face is basically just covered in fabric entirely. My eyes look very dead in both. Compare that to:

^this one is still pre-transition, so don't blame the estrogen.

So what are my specific tips? Well, the classic "selfie angle" is from above. This angle certainly helps, but why? Personally I've found that its far less about angles are far more about lighting. Since most lighting is overhead, taking selfies from above means that you'll have a well lit face in those standard lighting conditions. Notice that in both the early selfies and the later one, the camera is actually positioned below my height level, and there's still a noticeable facial difference between them. The reason this is possible is good, forward lighting. Generally, you want a soft light source to be vaguely behind the camera, shining onto your face- but make sure its not too close, or too bright. This will ensure that harsh shadows don't artificially make your features look much different than they actually are.

Another thing that cannot be understated: DISTANCE between yourself and the camera, especially if you're using a phone camera. There are several reasons for this- notably, it'll help make the background be framed more pleasantly, as well as prevent the camera/phone itself from shadowing your face. But there's also a massive, insidious reason this happens- all phone cameras have some degree of fisheye to their lens to increase the field of view while still using compact optics. Multiple lens have helped a bit, but its still a problem on all of them. Higher end phones will algorithmically correct for this, but they also add a TON of other postprocessing "beautification" in ways that are sometimes completely invisible (insert entire rant here about how this is a deceptive marketing tactic to make a brands phone cameras seem better than they actually are). Sometimes, these edits are way off base. But I digress. The fisheye is killer because it takes any slightly more prominent feature and bulges them out, including the nose and chin. Conversely, recessed features, like eyes and the sides of your cheeks, are going to be less emphasized. Moving further away from the camera significantly reduces this. If you can get a small phone tripod and take selfies that way, it'll alleviate this. Unfortunately my living space is not large atm, and I have less motivation to bother my roommates in the common areas and use their hallways for picture taking, so this has been a little lacking in more recent selfies. It's also just a lot of work for a couple quick selfies, so its hard to do right- but it genuinely makes a world of difference.

Otherwise, my advice about eyes would be that your eyes show your overall facial expression, even if you're covering your mouth. Most of my pictures are taken while smiling slightly under the mask, and it shows in the eyes. If I want a scarier looking picture, I'm stone faced or deliberately make my entire face angrier, and you end up with the "glaring directly down the camera wanting to kill you" face. Referring to the pictures I just posted- the first two are both dead faced under the mask, whereas in the last one, I'm doing a smug, sultry smirk. The eyes then reflect that.

Don't focus on specifically trying to open your eyes wider. Change your facial expression and just let them be how they want to be in relation to that. Eye position should fully commit to looking straight into the camera, or be fully distracted with something else, imo (including the screen of your phone, if you're doing something like a mirror selfie). If you're taking a mirror selfie, look at the camera lens as it's reflected in the mirror. A HUGE takeaway is that cameras, especially phone cameras, straight up lie to you. They don't work the same way as the human eye, and have to compensate for that- but they'll never be a completely faithful representation of what you look like. Don't let your ego be affected by how you look in pictures, when all is said and done.

And of course, experiment, experiment, experiment! Figure out the lighting you can get in the space you have available, and the angles that work for you! Don't be afraid to delete selfies you don't like! Show off your style and your features in the way you want to! There are no rules for what's attractive, this is just what I do and you should develop your own style!

I guess I'll take this with both femboy and trans tags bc the selfies are pre-HRT

#trans #trans advice #transgender #selfie #selfie advice #femboy #femboy advice #femboy fashion #crossdressing tutorial

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ophernelia · 6 days

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big simblr vs small simblr anon, you've been blocked. not interested in disingenuous questions about the same grating ass conversation. people reblog what they like. idc if it has a thousand notes or two, if i like it then i reblog it. i'll see posts with low notes and be surprised they don't have more for sure. it's just the luck of hitting the algorithm or not. so again- if i like it then i reblog it. some of us are here for the community, to just genuinely have fun, and to interact with the friends we've made in the community be it big or small. the notes and attention aren't the sole focus. whining about not having access to someone else's platform just so you can grow your own is so goddamn entitled. we have access to the same audience. curate your content, use good seo, utilize other social networks if you're seeking growth. i started all my stuff at literally 0. celebrated when i got 10 subscribers on youtube. was grateful when i had 20 followers on tumblr. majority of my growth came from my own merits, not larger accounts or attention seeking. just like so many of the other folks here- we were not handed a platform. i was talking about lykaia to a wall for the longest and eventually other people came to listen too. y'all hate the aesthetic girls down for their semblance to traditional influencers, but then exhibit similar behavior as said group. regardless of your follower count, you're still a valid part of the community. focus on that more.

and the meanest thing i'll say about this is: sending this to a black creator, especially one that uses alpha cc, knowing damn well how hard it is for black creators to grow an audience in general is outright crazy. not to mention- my shit is fantasy based so my niche is real fucking niche. starting out i have had to delete so many comments and block so many people who felt the need to tell me they were repulsed about how i choose to do shit. it wasn't just a lack of engagement, it was negative and hateful engagement. and despite that, i've been able to find and connect with other people. get a fucking grip.

#if this was mean idc #i try to be gracious about shit but when yall say dumb shit to me i refuse to be kind anymore #literally leave me alone #text post

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ungrateful-cyborg · 2 months

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Social media comparison

Alright. I've tried different new/alternative platforms lately in hope to find something I really liked, and there are very promising ones. I didn't try everything, of course, but this is a kind of overview of my journey so far? Or just my thoughts on the matter.

I've tried Pillowfort, Bluesky, Mastodon (didn't last long enough to have much of an opinion, it simply didn't click), Dreamwidth and Cohost (as of today, can't post there yet).

My comparison under the cut:

► I appreciate that they're algorithm free, whether it's because they truly believe in an Internet rid of the most invasive of them or because it's too expensive to implement on a brand new platform or some other reason. Only the future can tell, but for now it's nice.

► Pillowfort: beside the post formatting that I find extremely comfortable, my favourite thing is probably communities. I feel like this is the strongest "pro" in favor of Pillowfort because this is where they truly distinguish themselves from other social media.

Communities, in a way, remind me of forums. They're however easier to take in hand since you don't have to deal with as many options and choices. In my opinion, communities on Pillowfort are a bit lacking in functionalities though. I think more tools to easily organize them would help, like a widget or something to link stuff so you can create and animate events within said communities.

(I also feel like Pillowfort would gain from not being dark blue. We have more than enough dark blue websites, and it doesn't go well with the warmth invoked by its name in my opinion, but that's a minor detail and just a matter of taste.)

► Bluesky: basically Twitter but better. No algorithm, for a start. The curated feeds are nice. They're a bit like communities on Pillowfort since they can be moderated but from a non-mod user, it's even easier to post in them: you just have to use the right keyword for your post to appear there. Well, if the mod left it open to all rather than chose to vet who can or cannot post in it. Lots of flexibility and control over your timeline overall.

I don't like the 300 characters limit, however. Never liked it with Twitter either. It's not really conductive to conversations, and the general design tends to make the website feel rather impersonal. It's really more like parallel talking than community building.

Overall I think it's a good tool to promote your (visual) art or website, etc. but not great for hosting conversations past commenting briefly what others are doing. I mean, you can make threads but it'll never be as good as Pillowfort or Tumblr for this.

► Dreamwidth: I'll start with saying that Dreamwidth isn't a social media, it's a journaling platform and I haven't used it much yet. Had in plan to post my headcanons about my muses there and stuff like that so I did spend some time trying to figure out how it works.

First, there is a lot of options to let you have complete control over who can see what. Like, a lot.

You can entirely personalize what your journal will look like. It's a bit easier than having your own website—since I reblogged a post about that yesterday—because you don't start from 0, so it might be a good option if you don't feel comfortable jumping into Notepad++ to start coding. You can just change a thing here and there, or nothing at all, or almost everything. It's pretty old school though, so for those completely unfamiliar with early/pre-web 2.0, it might not look very appealing at first. However, I'd say don't let that stop you! If anything, it's a good opportunity to learn a bit of code without pressure.

You can also create communities, which as you might have guessed is very important to me. When creating one, you can set up whether everyone can join, everyone can ask to join but has to be approved by a community admin or to limit the access to those you have personally invited. Like for your own journal, communities are completely customizable, and Dreamwidth allows adult content.

I'm not sure you can top DW communities in terms of functionalities—aside from making a forum—but it's not as intuitive as Pillowfort (though in exchange you get more customization). You're also more limited regarding image hosting (see here). That said, hosting services exist, many are free, and that's without mentioning that you can post on Twitter and the like and use the picture link in your DW posts. I don't think many will only use Dreamwidth anyway.

► Cohost: I was expecting nothing when I registered earlier today, but this is an overall good surprise: it's Tumblr, but better.

More control of what you see. More user-friendly UI. It's not fucking blue. Adult content allowed. You can change your main blog page and make it private.

The only two downsides I'd mention here would be that you can't customize your blog page appearance and you have to wait for one or two days before being able to post. Although if it means less bots, I'd rather wait.

And this ends my rather non-exhaustive tour of the social media/blogging/journaling platforms. If you catch any mistakes let me know. I didn't dive deep, this was just me sharing my thoughts.

(As far as I know, they all allow adult content and give you tools to not see it if you don't want to.)

#OOC #social media #Internet #cohost #dreamwidth #pillowfort #bluesky #long post

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t00thpasteface · 5 months

Note

hey sorry i’m sure it’s a little dumb but how did you find a community/make mutuals on here? i swapped from twitter to here last year & haven’t been able to make friends like i did on twitter ;v; sorry if this is all silly but figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. love your art & blog !!!

as i like to say, it's like lifting an anvil: it's very simple, but that doesn't mean it's easy. as someone who's a 12+ year veteran that lurked for a couple years and remade a little while ago, really it all comes down to putting yourself out there!!! don't just sit around twiddling your thumbs and lurking. it's tough to do it without coming off as a pandering tryhard, but honestly as long as you're polite, upbeat, and posting regularly, then you're golden.

if you want a big list of wordy bullet points, here's what i've got, and i think you'll find it's pretty applicable to basically any site/community you want to get involved in:

post a lot. this is number one with a fucking bullet! POST! POST LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. but crucially...

post GOOD STUFF. don't bash yourself in the caption/tags, don't say "sorry this is shit" or whatever, don't self-deprecate, and don't admit to posting low-effort stuff just to hit a quota. imagine it's open mic night and go crazy. this is a good site to use like a journal and a scrapbook, but if you want to actually get some traction, you need to bring something interesting to the table. of course, just being funny and nice goes a very long way.

encourage audience feedback. people LOVE to tell you about themselves and give their opinions. get them responding and make the questions and calls for engagement so interesting or fun they can't help themselves.

tag effectively. use both fandom/content tags for searches, and organizational tags for your visitors' use. the tagging system is tumblr's bread and butter, so make it work for you.

follow a lot of blogs you like. then see who they follow, and add those to the list. build a good circle of engagement and keep your finger on the pulse of the site culture for whatever niche(s) you're in... or want to get in.

reblog a lot and be funny/kind in the tags. generally leaving a lot of comments/replies to post is kind of hit-or-miss, but tags are a good harmless "inside voice" to use that doesn't clutter the post itself and yet still engages with op and people seeing the post

engage with people when they ask for engagement. things like polls, ask games, etc... scratch people's backs and they'll scratch yours. and it's just a nice thing to do regardless :)

panhandling is not always the best route. people will balk if you look desperate or openly beg for engagement, like directly asking people to reblog something or being passive-aggressive about how much engagement you are/aren't getting on something. a genuine joke about it is fun and relatable, but snarky comments just kill the vibe and scare people off.

REMEMBER THERE'S NO ALGORITHM. lurking will not put you or any of the stuff you like out there!! REBLOG POSTS! SEND ASKS! this site will NOT SPOON FEED YOU ANYTHING. like taming a wild stallion, you can make this work for you, but you have to put in the effort first.

some people will think you're annoying, and that's okay. probably not very many, but they'll be loud. this is an unavoidable part of Being Known. you can be the sweetest peach in the world but there'll still be people who just don't like peaches. don't take it to heart, and if you do happen to drop the ball or rub a few people the wrong way, don't let that keep you from trying again :)

i've enjoyed the many friends i've made on this site in the past decade-and-then-some, even though both this site and my blog are both something of a ship of theseus. here's hoping you can make it work for you and your interests, too!

#shebbz shoutz #ask

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 1 year

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ive had an account for a couple years and i use this site occasionally, but it just feels like a regular, non-personal stream of content. how do i use this site n get into it and meet people

This is an interesting question. Especially in light of the new Twitter migration. Despite it not having anything to do with this blog, I want to answer it.

Come to think of it, this is probably a very common point of confusion for people. Tumblr is very different from Twitter and Instagram and Tiktok - because it doesn't force new content into your dash. You only get what you signed up for, and nothing more (unless you ask for that option.)

So in a way, Tumblr is kind of like socializing as an adult!

Meaning you need to go look for stuff - and PEOPLE! - you enjoy seeing and interacting with!

Here's a couple of ideas to help with that:

1. Tag your posts, and browse other people's tags!

Tumblr's tagging system is....................something. But it's at least ACTIVE. Meaning that on any given post, you should be able to simply look at some tags, and click on them! And then you get all recent posts WITH THAT TAG!

Enjoy pokemon? Go to the pokemon tag! Want to see what everyone is posting about the new games? Go to the Pokemon scarlet and violet tags!

What's more, if you want to consistently see things from that tag.... you can! You can just follow it. In fact, the tag page itself will often recommend you EVEN MORE TAGS.

Hell, you can even follow more blogs from the tag.

And the more you tag your posts, the easier people can find YOU and perhaps follow you for whatever you post!

2. Interact with people, and look through their blogs!

I won't pretend to know what your background is, anon, but I know many people use Twitter primarily, and Twitter kind of favors quietly following and liking posts.

It's fine to do that here, too, but you'll probably make friends faster if you follow a bunch of people and then reblog/comment on their stuff. Tumblr even has handy suggestions for other blogs if you're lost on who to follow.

I would recommend maybe taking care with WHAT you say, though, because if you leave rude or odd comments, some people will block you pretty quickly. Just use common sense. :)

Hint: If you reblog art, feel free to tag it! Heck, if you don't want to say something to the artist but feel too shy to make it an ask or a DM or a comment.... just put your feelings in the tags!

Most artists will look through the tags on their posts, which means they'll likely see your comments and feel very heartened by them.

3. Use the Stuff In Your Orbit options tumblr DOES have!

Tumblr has options for letting you see other people's Likes and follows. If you click on the little person icon at the top, and then go to settings, you can fix your dashboard preferences.

Scroll down until you see this menu:

...and turn on the first three options! That will populate your dashboard with suggestions based on the people you already do follow. It's going to be random, but probably the easiest option if you're used to other algorithmic sites.

Anyway, hope that helps, and happy uhhhhhh tumbling.

#tumblr #chekhov answers

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wifegideonnav · 28 days

Note

I'm new to Tumblr. How do Tumblr users usually engage with each other?

well first of all welcome haha. the main ways to engage with people are:

liking and reblogging. platforms like instagram and tiktok run on likes and an algorithm, but on tumblr, people almost exclusively use their dashboard and turn off suggested content, so they’re only seeing what people actually reblog onto their dash. that’s why people on this site are so adamant about reblogs, because likes basically do nothing. i saw someone say once that anything you would like on a different social media, you should reblog on here, and i totally agree. and don’t worry about how old a post is, or about reblogging something you’ve previously reblogged. there are posts from 2014 that i regularly see on my dash a decade later, so literally don’t feel awkward, it’s 100% normal to engage with old posts.

tags. there are three main ways tags are used: labeling original content so people find it in searches, internal organization systems when reblogging or posting (for instance, many people have a tag for their original posts, and will tag reblogs by fandom or character or whatever - important note that reblogs do not show up in search results), and to make sotto voce comments on a post. it’s normal for people to make jokes, add their own commentary, ramble about something semi relevant, or say something to op in the tags on posts they reblog.

reblog additions. every time you reblog, you have the chance to add something to the post, which unlike tags will be retained when someone reblogs from you. a good rule of thumb is to comment instead of tagging when it’s something you actually want other people to engage with, as opposed to tags where you’re just kind of expressing yourself lol. don’t be surprised however if you see people’s tags getting screenshotted and added to a reblog. if this happens because the screenshotter likes what the tag writer said, it’s jokingly referred to as “passing peer review.” (and of course people screenshot tags to criticize or mock them as well.) essentially, tags are like being at a big group dinner and saying something to the person next to you as an aside, and then sometimes that person goes “hey everyone listen to this”

post comments. there’s also an option on every post (unless op has turned it off) for people to comment on the post itself, not on a specific reblog. mostly this is useful for talking to people on personal posts or posts with reblogs turned off. on a bigger post, just reblog it and put your thoughts in an addition or tag.

asks. seems like you figured this one out! lmao. asks are used for a wide variety of things, but essentially it can either be a prompt for someone to make a post or a way of having an interaction/conversation with someone without dming them.

dms. these work like dms everywhere else, except the functionality is limited and it kinda sucks.

games. there are also many varieties of games that people play with each other, ranging from ask games (things like “rec me some music” or a post with prompts and people send you some from that list), tag games (typically there are questions you answer then you tag other people to fill them out for themselves) handwriting tags, follow chains, giveaways, name/url playlists, and more. with the addition of polls, brackets have gotten popular too (eg the tumblr sexyman bracket). there also used to be a lot of in-character ask blogs, where a user would set up a blog and roleplay as a specific character that people could send questions to (there still are some but way fewer and way less popular than there used to be)

to be honest i feel like i have to put “discourse” and “drama” on this list too. people on this site loveeee having the most insane arguments of all time and then everyone else memes the hell out of it. google “sonic for real justice” for an example lmao. (of course there’s also very unfunny political and fandom discourse that goes on as well. i would advise you to avoid discourse blogs as a general rule regardless of whether you agree with their position or not)

tagging people. you can also @ people in posts you think they’d like or if you feel like they have relevant input. typically this is something you would do either to people you’ve spoken to before, or a big blog with an established persona and rapport with their followers (eg if you follow a blog about snakes and you see a random post with snake info that seems wrong but you’re not sure, so you tag them to ask for their expertise).

and this isn’t a specific “mode” of communication but it’s also a thing to “interpret” (for lack of a better word) other people’s posts. for instance, people drawing a photo from the original post (i cant find it but there was a post going around recently where op posted an aesthetic photo of an egg cooking and then several people painted it), or people trying/recreating something a post was about (example). it was also a thing for a minute there where people would rewrite funny exchanges as shakespearean dialogue

those are all the ways i can think of, although im sure i’ve missed some (if other people think of any pls add on!). good luck, and i hope you’re able to meet some cool people!

#asks

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musings-of-a-rose · 10 months

Text

I'll Always Wait For You - Chapter 18 (Final Chapter)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Notes: Well, this is it. The final chapter. I’m feeling very emotional about this one, as these 2 are my babies. This fic was the second thing I ever started writing AND my first series. I started it in November of 2021 and now I’m ending it in June of 2023. Thank you to everyone who has read it, left comments, reblogged it, talked about it off of Tumblr (I am still FLOORED that this has happened!). This is what keeps people creating. Even if you think you have nothing important to say, or if all you say is just a keyboard mash of letters, I can promise you ALL of it means the world to us. So I dedicate this fic to you, the reader. You’re the real star here and I can’t express my love enough. If you’re ever wanting more, I am always down to write one shots, drabbles, character insights, what ifs, etc for this fic (and any of my others).

Now excuse me while I go cry

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

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

I'll Always Wait For You Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

<<Chapter 17

“You look so beautiful!” Olivia gushes over you after she tucks the last braid into place, watching you stand and do a little twirl in your white dress.

“You think so? It’s not too much?”

“Too much? Girl, it’s your wedding day. You can’t be too much!”

Smiling, you smooth out your dress as you take in your reflection. You’re marrying Frankie. Your Frankie. Frankie, whom you’ve been in love with since you were 19. This is real. It’s happening.

Ok, technically, in the eyes of the law, it happened a few weeks ago at a courthouse. But there’s something special about gathering in front of your close friends and family, wearing a beautiful dress, and getting to repeat those vows in front of everyone. A soft knock at the door brings you out of your head and Olivia walks across the room to peak her head outside.

“Mosa, it’s the photographer. Are you ready for the first look?”

“It’s HERmosa!” Frankie’s muffled yell comes from behind the door and Olivia smirks.

One last glance in the mirror at your reflection and you nod, turning your back towards the door. You hear some shuffling as Frankie is ushered in backwards and the photographers get into place.

“Turn in 3..2..1..Turn!” Olivia says and then steps back.

You turn, your eyes finding his almost immediately, as if they were drawn there. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, fitting his form perfectly, his grandfather’s kerchief folded and poking from the pocket. But what you’re really interested in is his face, his eyes growing wider and glossier the longer he looks at you.

“Hermosa, you…you’re beautiful,” Frankie says, awestruck.

“You’re just figuring that out?” You say behind a smile.

“No, I mean I always knew but…wow.”

He walks up to you and cups your cheek, running his thumb across it as Olivia hisses something about makeup from the corner of the room. But you couldn’t care less. Frankie was here, marrying you. This is all you’ve dreamt of for well over 10 years. A tear runs down Frankie’s cheek and you wipe it away.

“Are you ok?”

He sniffs and smiles. “I’m the best I’ve felt in a long time. I just…I only wish we would’ve done this sooner.”

“We did. We got married in the courthouse, remember?”

He smiles at you. “I meant more that we never…that we stayed together since that first kiss.”

“Me too. But we can’t dwell on what-ifs. We can only think about the here-and-nows.”

Frankie tips your chin up and presses a light kiss to your lips, the clicks from the camera going crazy. You pose for photos for several minutes before Olivia ushers everyone from the room, winking at you when she says she’ll give you 10 minutes of alone time before she came to get you. The second the door closes, Frankie pushes his tongue in your mouth, pulling you as close as he can.

“I can’t mess this dress up, Frankie,” You say pouting.

“That’s ok. I can work with that.” Frankie grips your hips and spins you around, bending you over the back of the chair and clasping a hand to your mouth as he takes you, your hands desperately trying to reach behind you to pull him in closer.

15 minutes later, Olivia knocks on the door and enters hesitantly, smirking when she sees you smoothing down your dress, Frankie’s face more pink than when she had left.

“It’s time,” she says, tossing her thumb over her shoulder and looking at Frankie pointedly. He turns to you and kisses your cheek.

“See you out there?”

“Raging sharks couldn’t keep me away.”

He kisses you once more before Olivia starts clearing her throat. When he straightens up a curl falls on his forehead and you softly push it back to where it was, feeling Frankie’s eyes on you the entire time. He opens the door and looks outside befire turning back to you.

“Your gift is here.”

“You don’t have to get me a gift, Frank-”

Santi walks through the door, dressed in a nice tux and smiling from ear to ear. You hadn’t seen him since the day he confessed his love for you and you had missed him terribly. Frankie was your best friend, but Santi was a close second and you’d hated the idea of getting married without him there.

“Santi?”

“Hey, Hermosa.”

You catch a glimpse of Frankie’s smile before he closes the door as you wrap your arms around Santi, feeling him squeeze you back just as hard. Separating a few moments later, you dab under your eyes as you try to choke back tears.

“If I smudge my makeup, Olivia may kill me.”

Santi laughs. “She’s Benny’s girl, right? She’s perfect for him.”

“She’s really great…but how are you here?”

“I uh…Frankie called me a few weeks ago and told me…well, everything. I’m sorry I was screening my calls, Hermosa. I just…I needed time.”

“I understand. But…you’re here now! Are you ok?”

“I’m doing alright, Hermosa. Actually, pretty good.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about her.”

He laughs. “I will. But uh, hey - do you need a Man of Honor? If…if that would…be ok?”

“I would love to have to as my Man of Honor! But…Benny already agreed and I don’t know how to tell him -”

Santi waves his hand. “Benny was in on this. He knows and already said it was ok with him as long as you wanted it.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait. Benny knew you were coming and he didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah.”

You gasp. “That bitch!”

Santi laughs his hardest yet. “So…”

“Let’s go, Man of Honor.”

The next thing you know, Frankie’s kissing you, everyone whooping and cheering, Aurelia throwing more flower petals into the air as they announce “Mr. and Mrs. Morales.” The rest of the night was like a blur, between photos and eating, first dances and cake, you barely had time to sit until things started to wind down long into the night. When you tried to help clean up, Olivia literally slapped your hand away and glared at you.

“Absolutely not. Benny!” He walks over and play groans when she says she’s recruited him to help clean up. She pretends to twist his nipple when he starts to complain and he yelps, high pitched and smiling as they play fight for a few moments before he gives in, grabbing plates and stacking them to wash.

Frankie looks exhausted and he’s limping a little, so you beg him to not carry you over the threshold. “You did that when we got courthouse married.”

“Yeah but-”

“No. I’m not having you throw your hip out on our wedding day. Not from this.”

He chokes and smiles, giving in, a dark twinkle in his eye. “Alright. If you insist.” But by the time you’d made it upstairs and gotten your clothes off, both of you were too exhausted to do much of anything aside from a shower and literally fall into bed. But Frankie made up for lost time the next morning, waking you with what he claims was already your third orgasm of the day, his curls mussed up from being buried between your legs. He presses his body to yours, swallowing your whimpers before he adds his own, hips shaking with release.

You spend your honeymoon at the Miller family cabin upstate, the only clothing you wear being one of Frankie’s shirts and sometimes his hat, which drives him wild. He celebrates another sobriety milestone while there, smiling wide at your praise. When you get back home, you can see he has an extra pep in his step, always a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, always wanting to touch you, whether a hand to your wrist, a touch to your lower back, or a smack on your ass, chuckling as you yelp and smack him back. When you ask him why he looks exceptionally happy, he credits you. “I finally got the girl of my dreams, the love of my life.”

—-

Frankie and you settle into a comfortable routine. You were no strangers to living together, the adjustment taking no time at all. Life goes on as normal, except now, you get to live it with Frankie, no longer separated by a stupid argument, misconceptions, or a bitch of an ex wife. This was exactly where you were meant to be.

Several months later, Frankie follows you into the family restroom at Target, slinging your purse over his shoulder as he rifles through the bag of stuff you’d just purchased.

“Pink dye first, right?” He asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

“Yeah. They’re more accurate supposedly.”

Frankie tears open the box and studies the directions, as if he hadn’t done this several times already. He opens one of the sticks and hands it to you, turning around to give you a little privacy.

“Start the timer,” you say as you zip up your pants. Frankie hits go on his timer and turns to face you, a pregnancy stick held face down in your hand. He can see your nerves, your worry and concern on your face.

“It’ll be ok, Hermosa.”

“Yeah I know. But what if it isn’t?”

“It will be-”

“We’ve been trying for months, Frankie. I know the OB said to try for a year before fertility testing but-”

Frankie walks up to you and pulls you to him, applying a gentle pressure as he hugs you close, kissing the side of your head. “If it’s negative, then we keep trying, ok? It hasn’t been a year yet and sometimes these things take time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Will told me that it took them months to conceive Liam. And they were trying too. Just…breathe. In….out…”

You breathe with him for a few breaths. “You always were annoyingly calm in a crisis.”

He smiles. “Wouldn’t help to freak out behind the joystick.”

You open your mouth to reply, but his timer cuts you off. Your mouth jams shut, nerves taking over your body as Frankie holds your gaze.

“If it says negative, we can keep trying. Remember that. I love you no matter what, Hermosa.” You nod, taking a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You flip the test over and look, 2 bright pink lines staring back at you. Tears immediately fall as you laugh, turning the test around to show Frankie, who yells, grabbing you up in his arms and hugging you tightly. He kisses you for a moment, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I fucking love you, Hermosa.”

“I love you, Frankie.”

He yanks the door open and whoops loudly, people turning to look at him as you follow him out of the bathroom.

“I’m going to be a father again!” He pumps his fists in the air, smiling from ear to ear as people cheer, clapping and congratulating you as they finish their purchases, one older couple handing you a gift card on their way out, telling you to spoil that baby.

—-

Frankie was hesitant at first with your pregnancy, despite being so supportive and actually wanting a child with you. A couple months in, you finally ask him why he seems afraid to touch you, that you won’t break. He finally confesses to you that when Elizabeth was pregnant, she did nothing but yell at him, belittling him and wouldn’t let him touch her at all, not her belly, not even to rub her back or feet. She called him horrible names and would blame it on the hormones. Your heart breaks for him and you have no words. Well, you have words but they aren’t nice ones. Instead, you sit next to him on the bed, leaning back onto one arm, and take his hand with the other, gently placing it on your lower belly. His eyes light up as he looks at your tiny for the moment bump, tears welling in his eyes as he brings his other hand up to take the other side. He pulls your shirt up just enough to see your belly skin, giving it a tiny kiss.

“Hey, little one. You grow strong in there and don’t give your mom too much of a hard time.”

From then on, Frankie is all in. Whatever you need, he gets it, even if it’s a ridiculous request at 3am. He’s constantly touching your growing belly, talking to it as much as you do. He finds Aurelia’s old crib in the attic, a few boxes of baby stuff and a bassinet up there as well. He sets up the nursery under your instruction, letting Aurelia help with the decorations when she comes on the weekends. You decide to wait to find out the sex of the baby, thinking it would be something fun to do. So instead you call it “Bean”.

“Think Bean will like this?” Frankie asks, pointing to a baby swing.

“They might, but Frankie, that swing is nearly $150. We can’t afford that.”

His shoulder’s slump but he agrees. “Maybe we can check the thrift shop. It’s the one thing Will didn’t toss our way.”

He was there for all of the classes too, birthing ones, breathing ones, even the hypnobirthing ones. He signed up for a “birthing partners” class, learning the best ways to support you not just during labor and delivery, but during the 4th trimester, or immediately postpartum. He helped you practice your meditations, making sure you had everything you needed and that you remember to take your prenatal and drink enough water.

When you’re 8 months pregnant, getting winded from walking down the hall, Frankie gets a call from his boss at Flyboyz on his day off, asking him to come in. He grabs his hat and gives you a quick kiss before leaving, reminding you to drink water. He’d been working a lot lately, trying to make extra money so he can stay home with you and the baby for the first month. You’re not sure how long he’ll be gone, so you plop yourself down on your bed, pulling over the basket of baby clothes that still have to be sorted and you get to work, separating the sizes, long sleeve vs short, nightgowns from onesies. A couple hours later, the front door opens and Frankie slams it behind him, the picture frames rattling on the walls. You set aside the footie pajamas you were folding and go to stand up, but Frankie comes storming into the bedroom before you can move, anger coming off of him in waves.

“Frankie?”

He yanks his hat from his head, tossing it onto his dresser, knocking some things off of it. “I can’t fucking believe her!”

Struggling a little, you manage to get up and cross the room to him, placing your hand on his mid back. He recoils, anger flashing in his eyes but it’s not directed at you. Unsure of what happened, you know he needs to calm down before he can tell you. You grab an ice cube out of your glass of water and turn to Frankie.

“Give me your hand.”

He looks at you, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Just do it.”

He stares at you for a moment before shoving his hand out. You flip it palm up, opening his fingers and place the ice cube in his palm. He yelps, but you hold his hand firmly so he won’t drop the ice.

“What the fuck, Hermosa?”

“The cold will help reset your nervous system.”

“I don’t think- it’s too fucking cold, Hermosa.”

“Just another few seconds.”

His chest, which had been heaving a moment ago, has slowed down, the anger still there but at a manageable level. You tip his hand and grab the falling ice into your own palm, putting it in the sink in the bathroom before coming back to the bed and trying to sit on it. Frankie is there, taking your hand and helping you into bed. He goes to stand but you squeeze his hand and pull him until he sighs, sitting on the edge, his shoulders slumped.

“How do you feel?”

“Fucking angry, but…the edge is gone. Ice…who fucking knew?”

“So..may I ask what happened?”

His eyes darken with repressed outrage. “I thought I was getting extra work. Instead, my pilot’s license has been suspended, pending a review.”

You sit up quickly, eyes going wide. “What??”

He nods, his jaw clenching. “Apparently, someone made a claim that I was using when I flew some clients and now they have to investigate.”

You knew that Frankie had been clean over a year, that he wasn’t using at all. “Oh, Frankie. Wait..who made the claim?”

He looks at you. “It was anonymous but I know it was Elizabeth.” He says her name with absolute disgust and hate that you nearly pull back from him.

“Elizabeth? Would she-”

“Oh come on, Hermosa. You don’t think it was her? I’ve been clean for well over a year. She’s the only one who would have known that I used that would make claims.”

“What about Rick?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nah. He left Flyboyz while you were…out of town. I told him he had to leave or I would report him for selling. He started to threaten to bring me down with him, but then remembered you were…not in my life and he could see the rock bottom in me, I guess. So he backed off, just left to go elsewhere. There’s no way it’s him. It’s her. It’s always her causing shit. I’m so fucking sick of it!”

Placing a hand on his back, you start to rub it, adding in little scratches here and there like he likes. “She is a bitch.”

“I just got my license back. I worked so hard on that.” He puts his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his legs. You scoot towards him wrapping your arm around him.

“I know you did. But you said suspended? That doesn’t mean revoked, right?”

He shakes his head. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So…what does it mean?”

“It means, I can’t fly until it’s reinstated. I have to pee in a cup at random times during the week for 6 months to prove I’m clean before they will lift the suspension.”

“Well there you go!”

He looks up at you, his eyebrows pulling together. “There I go, what? We can’t afford for me to not have this income, Hermosa.”

“We’ll be ok-”

“You’re about to have a baby. Your income won’t happen for a bit, and that’s fine, but we needed this extra money and now I can’t provide that. All because of my bitch of an ex!”

“Frankie, we’ll be ok. If we have to borrow money, we can.”

“I’m not borrowing money.”

“Fine. Then I will borrow it.”

“No, I’ll…I’ll figure something out.”

“Frankie-”

“Just…can we just stop for tonight? I’m trying to process this.”

You open your mouth to argue but then see the exhausted look on his face. “Sure. Why don’t you come talk to us? That always makes you feel better.”

Leaning back against the headboard, you watch as Frankie scoots up the bed, getting level with your belly as you turn on your side so you’re not being squished. He chats to the baby for a while, about everything and nothing and by the time he’s done, his shoulders are relaxed and he’s not as angry anymore.

Elizabeth never fully admits to being the one to make the claim, but you see the look on her face through the car window when you make your next exchange for Aurelia after Frankie confronts her and you know she did it. There’s nothing you can say or do except wait it out. Frankie getting his license back will be all the revenge you’ll need.

—---- (Skip to the next line if you don’t want to read about labor. It’s not terribly graphic at all, but I know it’s not everyone’s thing)-------

“I never thought I’d have to beg you to have sex with me!” You stomp your foot, furious that Frankie won’t follow the doctor’s advice.

It had been a few weeks since his license was revoked and you were a week past your due date and not happy about it.

“Hermosa, I don’t-”

“Want to hurt me, I know, I know. But the midwife even said that sex is the best way to induce labor because of the prostaglandins in your semen.”

“You make it sound so sexy.”

“Frankie,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking a deep sigh. “I am the size of a house. I am miserable and sweaty and I haven’t seen my feet in months and I just want to have this baby already. If it’s my belly, I can turn around-”

“You are fucking gorgeous.”

“Then please?”

Frankie studies you for a long moment, his shoulders starting to slump and that’s when you knew you had him. “Alright, fine. We can try it. But we’re going slow, taking our time, ok?”

“No arguments here.”

Contractions started within an hour of Frankie cumming inside of you. You weren’t sure at first what you were feeling, but it sort of felt like a bad period cramp, so you assumed this must be it. Frankie timed them all for you, helping you breathe as they got more intense and closer together, and when they were close enough apart, Frankie helped you to his truck and drove to the hospital. In between contractions, you watched him as he drove, expertly winding his way through traffic, a look of focus on his face, a little furrow between his brow the only indication that this was not a normal day behind the wheel. How lucky you were to have this man, who can be calm in stressful situations, want to spend his life with you.

“What?” Frankie glances sideways at you before turning back to the road.

“You’re cute when you focus.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Remember how cute I am when you’re in transition.”

Before you know it, you’re in a labor and delivery room, barely spending any time in triage before they whisked you away. Hospitals can be a frustrating place to have a baby. Each nurse walks in and tells you to rest between contractions, try to get some sleep when you can, but then a new nurse comes along within an hour, always rousing you from sleep to take your blood pressure or put their fingers where you didn’t want them. You’d finally had enough of the latter and told a nurse to kindly fuck off, and denied internal exams unless it was a medical emergency. Frankie was by your side the entire labor, putting counter pressure on your hips when you needed it, pulling your hair from your face, sneaking you snacks because they forbid food and you said you’d chomp off your own fingers if they didn’t let you eat. Transition was hard, but all of a sudden, you knew it was time to push. Following your body, you get on all fours, taking your calming breaths, but then realizing that Frankie was not next to you. Turning your head, you see him, wide eyed and backing towards the door.

“I’ll just-” He points his thumb over his shoulder at the door.

“No, please. I need you here with me.” Another contraction has you breathing again and it’s a minute before he replies.

“You want me here?”

“Yes. I need you, Frankie.”

His eyes start to water over and it doesn’t occur to you then, but later that night it’l come to you - he wasn’t trying to dodge out of the delivery. He was having a flashback to when Elizabeth kicked him out of the room right when Aurelia was making her way into the world, and your heart hurt all over again. Frankie is at your side in an instant, turning to yell for the nurse who had surprisingly not come in for some random check.

“No time!” You yell, letting out a low groan, a technique you learned to help move baby down and out. Frankie’s face slides into focus mode and he moves behind you, just in time to catch the baby as it comes sliding out. He gathers the baby up, holding it close as it screams into the world. The nurse comes running in then, having heard the baby crying as you turn onto your back, arms outstretched to hold your baby, skin to skin.

“Baby is here! I didn’t even know you were transitioning! You were pretty quiet.”

The nurse bustles around and does her thing while Frankie transfers the baby to your bare chest. Tears stream down your face as you look at Frankie, who has tears of his own. He kisses the top of your head. “I am so proud of you, Hermosa.”

A few moments pass, the baby calming against your chest. “Hey Frankie? Is the baby a boy or girl?”

He slaps his hand to his forehead. “I forgot to look! I was so focused on catching the baby and whether it was breathing and not dropping it that I don’t think I looked! Here.” He lifts the hip of the baby and smiles.

“We have a son. I have a son!”

—---No more labor/delivery details—---

Luis Christian Francisco Morales was born perfect. 10 little fingers and 10 little toes, skin glowing. He was the perfect combination of you both, although you say he favors Frankie mostly.

You both settle into your roles as new parents, a lot of it being new to Frankie too, since Elizabeth had denied him so much. He was determined to not miss out on things this time, making sure you both had everything you needed and watching Luis when he stayed awake between feeds so you could have a nap. Aurelia cries the first time she sees Luis, big ugly sobs, and when Frankie finally calms her down enough to ask what’s wrong, she simply says “He…he’s…s-so so cute!” She happily takes up the mantle of “Big Sister” when she’s with you. Once, you wake from your nap only to find all 3 of them sleeping, Luis curled up on Frankie’s broad chest, Aurelia tucked onto his other side. You snap a photo and then quietly leave the room, taking the time to actually shower.

About a month in, Frankie comes back from dropping Aurelia with her mom. His eyebrows were pulled together in confusion as he stares down at his phone.

“Everything ok?” You ask, shifting the bottle you were feeding Luis with so it was a better angle.

“Yeah. Uh…Santi just texted me.”

“Oh yeah? Everything ok?”

“Uh..he says congrats on Luis, that he’s the cutest, and that he was out of service for a bit and he’s sorry he didn’t text earlier.”

“That’s ok. I know he’s busy.”

Frankie is quiet for a moment. “He offered me some work.”

“Work?”

“Well, not just me. Benny, Will, and Tom too.”

“What kind of work?” When he doesn’t answer, you look up at him. He kicks his shoes off and sits next to you on the couch.

“Consulting.” His eyes don’t meet yours, focusing instead on his fingers, where he starts to pick at the skin around his nails.

“Consulting.” You say in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

“Wait, like a mission?”

Frankie shrugs. “No? I mean, it’s just scoping out a place and looking for weaknesses. We give our report to the government he works with and then come back. Easy peasy.”

“If it’s so easy peasy, why aren’t you looking at me?”

He takes a deep breath and let’s it out slowly before looking at you. “It’s for a week. Just trying to find holes in a fence.”

“And why do they need you?”

“They need a pilot.”

“You don’t have your license.”

“It probably doesn’t matter over there.”

“Frankie, I don’t-”

“I’ts $17k, Hermosa. We need the money.”

“I don’t like it. So much can go wrong. Who’s house is it? Definitely no one that’s a stand up citizen. What happens if they find you first? No, I don’t like it.”

“Just..he’s coming to town tomorrow and we’re going to chat about it at Benny’s fight. Let me ask some more questions.”

“I don’t like it, Frankie.”

“I know. Just..let me talk to Pope.”

—----

It’s late the next night and you start to pace the floor of your bedroom, wondering when he’ll be back. He’d texted you to tell you Benny had won the fight and they were stopping at the bar for a quick drink before Olivia takes him home to play nurse.

That had been 2 hours ago.

The door finally opens downstairs and you quietly make your way to the kitchen, where you were hearing Frankie move around.

“Did I wake you?”

You shake your head. “I was awake. Luis is asleep.”

“Good, good. He go down ok?”

“Yeah, actually in his bassinet, but Frankie? How did it go?”

He gets a glass of water, chugging half of it before setting the glass down on the counter. “It’s just a recce. No live fire.”

“There’s a possibility of people shooting at you??”

“I mean, we are casing a place. It’s always possible if guards see you or-”

“No.”

He looks at you. “Hermosa, we need the money.”

“No.”

“I don’t have a job. We need this.”

“No money is worth your life, Frankie. None of your lives.”

“I won’t be in any major danger. I’ve done worse.”

“Yeah but you didn’t have a family then.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No. No, I don’t like this, no.”

Frankie puts his hands on his hips, cocking one hip back as he looks at you. “We’re behind on bills.”

“So? I’ll borrow some money and you can stay.”

“Hermosa-”

“Or I can get another job? A new client. I can-”

“You just had a baby, so no.”

“Then I can-”

“Hermosa.” He says it firmly, that hip still cocked back as his eyes find yours, resolve in them.

“You’ve…you’ve already said yes, haven’t you?”

His tongue comes out to swipe across his bottom lip. “We leave Thursday.”

Silence stretches between you both as you stare at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you made that decision without me.”

“I made the decision for us. We need the money.”

“Oh, fuck you and the money! I said I could borrow it. You’re just being stubborn!”

“I’m taking responsibility! We needed money and this just happens to come our way? I have to take it.”

“So you’re saying it’s fate that Santi texted you to lure you down there with the promise of $17k? You’re telling me that it’s just consulting and nothing else? Can you promise me that?”

He shrugs. “That was the original deal.”

“But can you promise me?”

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on yours. “I’m going, Hermosa.”

And with that, you turn on your heel and walk out of the kitchen, closing the door behind you, wishing you could slam it.

The next couple days were torture. You kept trying to convince Frankie to stay, convince all of them to stay. You didn’t want any of them going. But they all said the same thing that Frankie said. “It’s just consulting.” Thursday morning, Tom comes to pick up Frankie pretty early. He leans over to kiss you in bed and you take one more shot at trying to get him to stay. Your fingers wind into his curls as you pull him to you, deepening the chaste kiss he had started.

“You can still stay,” you say, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll be back in a week, Hermosa. I love you.”

Tears streaming down your face, you reply. “I love you too. Please don’t die. Don’t any of you die.”

Frankie chuckles. “We’ll be fine. I’ll call you in a couple of days once we’re settled, ok?”

—----

Except, Frankie did not call in a couple of days. Neither did any of the others, nor had they reached out to Stacy, Molly, or Olivia. There was no one to call, no contact. They needed it that way for whatever consultation they were on. Stacey brought the kids over and Olivia came too, all of you opting to stay together and support each other at least during the day. As the few days stretched into a week, which stretched into nearly another, Olivia split her time between you and Stacy’s, offering to watch the kids so you each could have a moment to yourselves. She was at Stacy’s tonight, Luis snuggled and tucked in beside you as you channel surf the tv, landing on nothing in particular. It was day 10 and about 2am so all of the infomercials were on. You landed on one for some random kitchen gadget when your phone rings. You jump, grabbing for your phone to quickly hit the silent button before it wakes Luis. It was an unknown number, but definitely foreign and so you pick up right away.

“Frankie?”

“Hermosa,” he breathes a sigh of relief, his voice wavering on the last syllable of your name.

“Are you ok? Is everyone alright? Fuck, I’ve been terrified out of my mind.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things got…out of hand. I can explain more when I get home.”

“I understand. But you’re ok?”

“I’m ok. A little banged up but ok.”

“Everyone else?”

The way he’s silent has your throat closing up, making it difficult to speak. “Frankie?”

“It’s Tom.”

While Tom and you never were best friends, there’s no way you would’ve wished death on the man, nor would you have wanted to have his girls without a father.

—----

Frankie’s mom takes Luis while you drive to the airport, there to pick up Frankie as Olivia and Stacy were going to get Benny and Will. You had experienced all of the emotions these past 10 days, mostly anger and fear, but when you heard his voice, a part of you caved. You just wanted him home and were grateful that he was alive.

You spot Benny first, towering over a majority of the crowd as people file out security and head towards baggage claim. Then you see it - a dark blue standard heating oil cap bobbing next to Benny and suddenly, you’re running, pushing people out of the way as you run towards him, Frankie seeing you at the last moment, dropping his bag to gather you in his arms, burying his face in your hair. Olivia and Stacy copy your actions, Will hissing when Stacy throws her arms around him. He mutters “I’m ok.” before pulling her to him. Pulling back, you look up into Frankie’s black brown eyes, taking in all the features of his face, his laugh lines, the spot where his one dimple pops up, the fact that he had the audacity to shave his beard.

“You shaved,” you said simply, running a finger along his jawline.

“Yeah. But I’ll grow it back just for you.”

His lips crash to yours, his hands cupping the sides of your face as you press your body against his, fingers twisting in his shirt.

“I’m still mad at you,” you breathe out between kisses.

“Fair enough.”

Hugs were exchanged all around before everyone went to their homes. On the drive home, Frankie tells you everything, how it was just a consult but then they decided to try and do it themselves, how it would’ve all been fine if they hadn’t missed their window, or if Tom had listened when he said it was too much weight for the helicopter.

“Wait..you crashed?”

“Yeah. It was just a little crash.”

“Frankie!”

“It’s me. I landed us…mostly fine. We all walked away.”

He explains about the money and the people from the village, and how they had to trek up the fucking Andes mountains and down the other side. How a young man from the village had wanted revenge and got it, dying himself in the process. How they carried Tom down the side of the mountain, leaving a ton of money there, only to make it to safety and come back with a new chopper to get the money and safely make it back in a whole other country, which is where he called you from. By the end of the story you’re silent, tears quietly falling down your face as you realize how easily they all could’ve died on the side of those mountains. How one of them did.

“We each put about $5mil in a trust fund for Tom’s girls, made sure Molly was taken care of. It’s what Tom would’ve wanted and it’s…it’ll never be enough.”

“Hey,” you squeeze his thigh and he looks at you, tears on his cheeks. “You are not to blame. Every one of you knew what you were doing, knew there were risks. And while I can’t say who shot first as I wasn’t there, Frankie, it was self defense. And, I’m sorry, but knowing you and knowing Tom? I’d bet money on him shooting first.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah I guess so…. are you mad at me still?”

“I was all prepared to be so pissed at you, but honestly? I’m just glad to have you here and alive.”

Frankie spends the next hour between your legs and you spend the hour after that washing his hair and tending to his arguably minor wounds. Once you were clean and dressed, you made him something to eat, as you’d have to go get Luis shortly. When you set his glass of water down, he grips your wrist, pulling you into his lap.

“How are you feeling? Do you need to call your sponsor?”

He shakes his head. “Surprisingly, no. I think I’m just so grateful to be alive. And there’s one more thing.”

“What?” You ask nervously.

Frankie leans in closer, speaking low in your ear. “We got the rest of the money.”

“The $17k?” You said stupidly.

Frankie smiles and shakes his head. “A lot more than $17k.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Millions, Hermosa. Each. Millions. We’re set for life, as are Luis and Aurelia.”

“Can we stay here?”

Frankie chuckles. “What?”

“I don’t want some giant mansion. I want to stay here. In our house.”

Frankie smiles and kisses you lightly. “We can do whatever you want to.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Besides take care of my family?”

“Besides that.”

“Once I get my license reinstated, I want to start my business.” His eyes light up as he talks about it, how he had already looked into getting retired choppers, and had gathered up some possible contacts, even scouted out some property. The only thing that had stopped him was the money, which was no longer an issue.

—----

6 months later, Frankie’s license gets reinstated, the owner clapping him on the shoulder and apologizing for everything. A month later, Frankie opens Chopperz, his veteran owned and operated helicopter tour business. It’s a instant success - apparently people really want to experience flying in various retired military equipment being flown by actual veterans. He even has repeat customers, although a lot of them are women and you catch more than one of them blushing when he talks to them.

Will and Stacy build a new house, much bigger to fit their expanding family, ecstatic that they were finally having a girl. He quits giving speeches almost immediately, staying home with his family and helping Frankie out when he needs it.

Benny and Olivia confessed that they had actually gotten married the day after Benny’s last fight, not able to wait any longer. When he came home, they took off to travel the world while their dream house was being built just down the road from Frankie and Will.

Santi went to Australia to find Yovanna and her brother, following them around until they got settled. He and Yovanna stayed together for a while, and he took some time for himself, wandering the world to see things when he wasn’t in a uniform. He eventually came back, building a house down the road from Frankie and the Millers. But to his first get together with everyone, he brought a girl, which wouldn’t have surprised anyone, but you could see the way he looked at her, constantly touching her lightly, pressing kisses to her head, shoulder, lips, anywhere he could. And she was doing the same, her eyes lighting up every time they looked at each other, so when you asked him later, away from everyone else, he scratches the back of his neck and admits that he thinks she’s the one, that she gets him, understands him, and doesn’t give a flying fuck about his money, which she didn’t even know about until now.

Frankie and you were finally happy, after all these years. Elizabeth finally stopped her shit, leaving you and Frankie to be happy and only communicating when it regards Aurelia. Instead of moving, you decide to expand your house, adding another couple of bedrooms because you want to eventually expand your family. Frankie is beyond happy, smiling at Luis and Aurelia as they run around their new treehouse in the backyard, feeling you wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing his broad back before moving to stand next to him, his arm around your shoulder as you both watch your kids.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask, turning your head up to him.

“How happy I am. How I wish we had started this all sooner, that it didn’t take such a shitty road to get here, and that it didn’t take us this long.”

You reach up and cup his face, pulling him to you as you kiss him, his soft lips lightly nibbling at yours.

“I’ll always wait for you, Frankie.”

—----

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @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 @sullyosully @kmc1989

#frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco catfish morales

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manonamora-if · 2 years

Text

Supporting your IF Authors: A tutorial (?)

I had made a small tutorial back on @interact-if a few months ago. Here is the very extended version. Also this is a very long post.

Obviously, you are not forced to do every single one of those actions below (it would be hypocritical of me to say so), but it helps show the authors their readerbase care about their works. Most action only takes a few seconds to a couple of minutes.

Let me know if I forgot something or made a mistake!

Note: while this is specific to IF authors, it can also be applied to other creators.

TLDR: Engage with stuff you like. Lurking might be nice and easy for you but can be detrimental to your fav author. Sharing is caring, y'all! Also, please don't keep the base avatar, it makes us think you are a bot. Don't behave like a bot.

On this Hellsite.

Many ways to interact with the authors you follow. Some are very simple but not really effective. Others require a bit more effort but really goes a long way.

Likes

The easiest to do. Just one click on the heart.

Pros: - tells your fav author you like their stuff. - easiest thing to do. Cons: - It's pretty much just a bookmark function on this site. - The "algorithm" doesn't really care for it.

ALSO: don't feel weird about going through the archive and like old posts. You'll prob find some gems there. LIKING OLD CONTENT IS NOT CRINGY!!!

Reblog

Requires maybe 3 more clicks and some typing if you add comments/tags. Still relatively easy. Best way to share what you like to others. The only way a post appears on a dashboard.

Pros: - tells your fav author you like their stuff in a more ✨🌟personalised 🌟✨way. - helps their post travel this hellscape and reach other people who could like this content (see addendum at the end). - the "algorithm" likes it. - you can queue them for a later date/so you don't spam your followers. Cons: None (lol).

Notes: - do not reblog posts with a #don't reblog tag. - consider adding trigger warnings to your reblogs if the original one has some too. - TEMPLATE/ASSETS/RESSOURCE: always reblog those to help your neighbour. Who knows? One of your followers or your follower's followers might be looking for that. Also: good karma. - post doesn't fit your ✨aesthetic ✨? have a side-blog and put it there.

Asks

Needs a bit more effort. You need to think of words to write or picture to send. Also, can feel a bit nerve-wracking interacting with someone you look up to (they're like you, don't worry). But one of the most rewarding note for authors.

Pro: - you have a direct line of communication with the author, making it easy to ask questions, give feedback/comments. - you can positively impact their days with a few words. Yup. Seriously. - most authors really like asks, it's probably the most engaging response you can get from your readers. - you can asks stuff anonymously (unless the author has turned it off), we've all done it. Cons: - you need to think of words to say and muster the courage to press ask. - it might not available because other people abused it/were dicks in the author's dm.

Ask Etiquette/Advice

Be nice and respectful! Just because you have a direct/anonymous like to that author doesn't mean manners can be thrown out the window. They are like everyone: humans with feelings. Internet may make it difficult to see other people as... well people, but they are. Don't be a dick. A Hello or How are you? really goes a long way.

Ask questions about the project/process Interested in a particular part of the project or the authors' process? Ask about it! We love to talk about our projects and characters.

Feedback doesn't have to be complex/long. If you don't know how to put your feelings about their works into words, take a small aspect of the project and explain why it stuck with you. I really liked how you portrayed X's relationship with Y. That scene with Z made me feel V. Or you can be a bit more generic (still add a bit of yourself): Your writing is great! The UI is very pretty. The game is amazing.

Don't demand things. Duh. That's rude.

Don't spam. Even if they don't reply to your question right away. They may have a reason not to do it. Or they want to keep your post for just themselves. May be ok for positive ones (ask first).

Replies

This is fairly new on Tumblr (2021?). They're pretty much comments without rebloging. Great for giving feedback/sending love to a specific post.

Pro: - Yay engagement. - Another way to send your fav author love! Cons: - That's it. It's not visible unless you open the notes of a post. Unsure if it makes any difference in the algorithm. - it is not anonymous.

Other ways

A non-exhaustive list:

Create fan art : Always appreciated, we love to see your interpretation of our work and your OCs. Caveat: only if the author allows it. Ask the author if you are unsure.

Participate in Beta-Testing : Big part of IF it testing before release. Many authors will have a call for beta a few weeks/months. Consider rebloging that too.

Answer Poll/Feedback forms : Aside from Beta-testing, authors may post a poll or ask for feedback for a functionality/path. This is a great way for us to get direct responses. Consider rebloging that too.

Published Platform

There are many places where an author can publish their games. Below are the most used/known ones. You will require an account for most of those (it's worth it, I promise).

ITCH.IO

Itch has a lot of games.

A LOT of Games. To help your favourite game gain traction, you need to... engage with it! All ways are super easy and takes very little time too!

Play the Game

Duh. (Also I lied about the time it takes, that will depend on the game) Account not required.

Collection

You can add games/assets/whatever page on a collection (folder) to keep it as a to play later or share as a game you enjoyed. You can make those collections public and share it to the world!

To do that, click on Add to Collection (top left corner on laptop, bottom bar on mobile) and choose the collection you want.

Rate the Game

It's as easy as 1, 2, 3. Nope, not joking. 3 clicks and that's it. Ready?

Click on Rate this... on the top-left corner of the page.

Click on the amount of stars you want to give.

And click Submit.

Aaaaand that's it. Easy-peasy.

For Mobiles: the UI is a bit wonky and doesn't give you the option to rate a game. As such, you have 2 options:

put your phone in landscape mode: the feature will be at the top of the page (see below, I took a random game from the front page).

put the page in desktop mode (Chrome, Firefox) and follow the same description as above.

NOTE: This functions is not available if the game has been submitted to a Jam/Comp and said Jam is in its voting period! It will be available again when the ranking/votes have been released. If possible, consider voting for that game in the Jam/Comp as well.

Review the Game

Want to give your rating a bit more depth? Or you have a comment you want to give the author? Then add a review to your rating before clicking on Submit! Note: The review is only visible to the author.