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carouselunique · 1 month

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Cinch had three charges in her care once, Celestia entrusted her with the day-to-day care of Prince Blueblood, the new Princess Cadence and her student Sunset Shimmer - running a kingdom is difficult enough alone without three young ponies to look after - so when Celestia is absent (often) that means Cinch was in charge of these three ponies. And while the matron of the castle was always rigid about rules and wanted her three charges to uphold her reputation and to build their own budding reputations high, she cared about them very much. You'd have to, spending your time with the same three young ponies for so long, guiding and teaching them to be their best...

By the time Ditzy came into the picture, Cinch was down to two charges. She refused to fail them the way she failed...

Well, with one down, there were two left and she cared so much she wouldn't let anyone ruin them, especially not themselves. Surely they would come to realize Cinch was only helping.

#my sketches #my little pony #mlp #equestria girls #eqg #sunset shimmer #abacus cinch #Princess Celestia #prince blueblood #ditzy doo #princess cadence #mlp fim #mlpfim #mlp g4 #my little pony friendship is magic #swap six #side stars au #(Doubt anyone will read the tags but if you do some bonus lore:#Sunset leaving meant Celestia decided to take over caring for her new student completely to try and fix her mistakes #so that's why Twilight isn't Cinch's responsibility and why she doesn't care for that one and whatever happens to her #but if Cinch was in the picture for Twilight she would NOT approve of her actions #not morally speaking Cinch is pretty firmly amoral #but Twilight would probably be a humiliating blight on her already tenuous reputation #so y'know - that's why Cinch is bothered with Blueblood and Cadence but not Twily)#Cinch is not a good person and she will not be receiving a redemption once things fall apart - she definitely screwed up these kids #but she does legitimately care about them its just she is such a damaged old mare that her help hurts them more often - her redemption #if she gets one - will definitely be therapy or sumn...#(also sorry for the art absence losing a big platform depressed me and also I'm a busy person but fuck it we ball)

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mxltifxnd0m · 1 year

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[photo is not mine, credit to the person who posted it on pinterest]

i don’t think we talk about how BEAUTIFUL this man’s side profile is 😫

LIKE LOOK AT HIM! HES SO PRETTY

he’s built like a roman god i swear

also i don’t think we talk enough about this picture

the hair, the shirt, the side profile! just everything about him is so beautiful i can’t anymore 😭

#daisy rambles #don’t mind me just thirsting over a older man #a man old enough to be my father at that #it’s nothing new #daisy is thirsting after older men #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the last of us #din djarin #star wars #joel miller #javier peña #narcos #frankie morales #triple frontier #javier pena x reader #din djarin x reader #joel miller x reader

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tswwwit · 2 days

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I think it was sort of implied Bill had exes (or more like ex- one night stands? Maybe even ex- acquaintances with benefits?) so my question is 1) are any of them still alive 2) will dipper meet them 3) if so will dipper /know/ that he met them, and how does he feel about that? Bonus points for descriptions of their various improbable anatomies (picture dipper meeting a sentient pile of hornets and wondering how exactly it and a triangle managed to bone down XD).

Maybe!

Possibly!

Depends! Bill might not be totally up-to-date on the 'how to healthy relationship' course - but even he knows opining on previous flings conflicts with domestic bliss. So if Dipper does meet one of the exes, he could figure it out from context clues, perhaps. Or some bystander could let him in on the hot gossip. Or the ex could be very up-front about their previous relationship to this impudent little flavor-of-the-week fleshbag.

Bill's absolutely banged some things so physically different that trying to figure out the mechanics makes Dipper's head hurt. He's not gonna think about it for multiple reasons.

#answers #I don't know how many of Bill's exes are still extant but if there are any? It's a very small number #Bill has also likely proclaimed to Dipper that he may have dated around but never *married* before. And that is actually true!#Because Bill has literally never been this close to another being before. They all got splattered before things get serious #Turns out supreme power combined with emotional instability does not lead to good survival rates for anyone dating you #When you're an immortal immature triangle with zero morality the quickest way to solve any argument that Upsets you is via immolation #Anyone who survived was either a one-night thing or wisely dipped before conflict could arise #Dipper got very very lucky that circumstances made him very hard to murder in the early days #Bill needed those training wheels on the relationship bike to get used to not getting his way #Now this old demon has learned a couple new tricks #Dipper got him REAL good and he has no idea how much so

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months

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Morally Grey in a World of Black and White

"Every villain is a hero in their own mind."

-Tom Hiddleston

Face down in the dirt was not an ideal way to wake up at all. Chuuya would argue that there were a million other ways an places to wake up that were better than face down in the dirt. One such example would be in a bed, maybe on his side, in a hotel. The best case would let him know where he was. As it now stood, he had no idea where the hell he was.

Normally, in a situation such as this, the logical thing to do would be to get a proper bearings and stock of the situation at hand. Gathering intel should be top priority. How one goes about doing that varies from situation to situation. However, a groan on Chuuya's left had him turning to see what was going on.

Also face down in the dirt, a few feet away, was a kid he'd never met before, but that didn't stop him from recognising him. The kid had a very monochrome colour palette for being a part of the Armed Detective Agency. Chuuya had seen the kid's picture before because of the bounty that had been on his head, and he'd seen an illusion of him at the hospital not even a week ago, but he'd never met the kid. Jinko, for that was what he knew the kid to be called, was Dazai's new protegee. Was that a good thing? Probably not, but that also lead him to hold high expectations of the kid. He was being taught by Dazai Osamu, so the kid had to be at least as skilled as Akutagawa had been when he was under Dazai!

Much like a cat, the kid stretched out on the grass as if basking in the sun before he stiffened and looked over at Chuuya. He didn't make a sound.

Chuuya smirked smugly, "Have a nice nap, Jinko?"

The kid flinched ever so slightly at something before shaking his head, "Where..?"

"No idea."

"Hm." The two let the silence take over again. They'd never interacted before now, so they didn't have much to go off of.

A quick scan of the area alerted the two to no other human presences. There didn't seem to be any animals either. It was weird. Not weird in the way that Yokohama could bost, but weird in the way that there was probably something happening around them that they couldn't figure out yet. It was kind of like the feeling that they both got when Dazai was scheming, but this was somehow worse.

Still holding the distance between themselves, the two made no move to face each other. Chuuya quietly noted the use of common sense in the detective. They'd been enemies not a week ago, but they were the only familiar thing around. Better to have their backs to each other than to the unknown around them.

Jinko hissed something that Chuuya couldn't quite make out before he was pulling him into the tree line. "What the hell?" Chuuya glared.

Jinko shushed him before whispering, "Someone's coming." And wasn't that just swell. Though, Chuuya had to admit that the kid had good instincts. He hadn't even heard anyone coming yet!

A few minutes of hiding in the bushes, there was a break in the plants opposite where the two hid and a kid with - was that green? - green hair stumbled into the clearing. They were obviously injured, but not bleeding. Honestly, they didn't look like a threat at all. As they fell to the ground and pulled out a notebook, they were seeming less like a potential threat and more like and injured bunny.

If Chuuya was confidant in his intel on the ADA, then he knew that the kid beside him would not let this injured bunny be.

Predictably, the were-tiger left the bushes to talk to the kid. Unpredictably, he kept his distance and seemed guarded in a way he hadn't been before. Was it because this green haired kid was a new variable in a new equation? Probably, but that didn't make sense. Jinko was guarded against the kid like he was ready to run, but he'd left his back open to Chuuya, a known enemy.

Enemy wasn't the right word. The Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency had a truce, but it was shaky at best. It would take a while for all parties to get out of the headspace of what was basically an attack on sight order. Hostile was a better word to use when describing their current relationship.

"Hey," the were-tiger said, his voice soft but his stance was ready for a fight.

The green haired kid startled and looked up at the grey haired kid with wide eyes. They looked ready to run and cry at the same time. It was pathetic. It would get them killed in Yokohama.

"Hey," the were-tiger tried again, this time he lowered himself to the ground with his hands up in surrender. It was a compromising position should he need to fight or run. Chuuya shook his head. Maybe Dazia wasn't doing a good job teaching the kid. "I'm a bit lost, could you help me?"

The kid relaxed a bit when Jinko didn't come any closer to him. "Y-yeah. You're in Musutafu in the Chubu Prefecture of Japan."

That...was not where Chuuya last remembered being. He was fairly certain that that wasn't were Jinko last remembered being, either. The situation just got a bit more complicated.

To Jinko's credit, he took the information in stride. "Huh. Cool. I've never been here before," he said, "Could you tell me more about it?"

The green haired kid was almost completely relaxed now and Jinko risked scooting closer. The kid made no move to get away, so Chuuya made himself comfortable. He had the feeling this was going to be a long conversation.

~~~

Atsushi really wanted to wake up from whatever not-dream he was having now. He was certain that he'd fallen asleep in the closet last night after bid Kyoka a good night. So how in world had he gotten here?! And with Nakahara-san of all people! He was glad that the Port Mafia Executive hadn't attacked him when his back was turned. He was also a bit relieved to realize that they were both confused about what was going on.

The kid with green - honest to god, the kid had green hair! - hair was helpful, if not skittish. Not that Atsushi could blame them. Though, they were very forthcoming with information, so that was a good thing. It was a good thing that could get them killed in Yokohama.

Nakahara-san had stayed hidden in the bushes while he talked to the kid. He was glad for that. He'd never officially met Nakahara-san, but he'd heard stories from Dazai and whisper's in dark alleyways. Nakahara-san was a force to be reckoned with and Atsushi was beyond glad that they weren't currently trying to kill or otherwise maim each other.

To Atsushi, Nakahara-san was an intimidating person. He couldn't imagine how this kid would feel should the man come out of hiding suddenly.

Either way, he was gathering information from his only current source. He found out where they were, what time it was, a basic layout of the surrounding area, and some landmarks to look for. Most of it was tourist stuff, but it would be useful to him nonetheless. He wasn't anywhere near being a good detective and was still technically an intern at the Agency, but he'd read enough books as a kid - when he could - and asked Kunikida enough questions to know a bit of what he was doing.

He also was given some extra information that he hadn't been after. The kid's - male, he'd realized and quietly confirmed - name was Midoriya and he was in his final year before high school. Smart of the kid to not give away his first name. It was a Friday and schools in the Chubu prefecture had just let out for the weekend.

"I better get going," Midoriya gathered his things and stood up. Atsushi did so as well. "My mom will be wondering where I am soon.

"I understand," Atsushi smiled. He really didn't, but that would only bring up uncomfortable questions that he didn't really have enough training to lie his way through. "Have a safe trip home."

"I will, thank you, Nakajima-san," the kid bowed, "You as well!" Then he was gone.

It was quiet for a minute before the bushes behind him rustled. He didn't bother turning around because he knew who was at his back. Was this a good show of trust? He'd find out in a minute.

"Nice job, were-tiger." Nakahara-san walked closer to him, "I guess they are teachin' ya something at the ADA."

Now is when he turned to face the Port Mafia Executive. "Thanks, Nakahara-san."

The man raised an eyebrow. "How'd ya know my name?"

He shrugged minutely to feign indifference. "Dazai-san likes to talk when he's procrastinating."

Nakahara-san huffed a laugh, "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Another bout of quiet overtook them as the sun set. Finally, Atsushi said, "We're a bit away from home."

"Yeah."

Yokohama was their home. They worked against each other in the past, and are likely to in the future, but Yokohama was their home. It was their place to protect and serve in their own ways. Yokohama was also an independent city-state. It's boarders had been closed long before they'd even been born. Based on what Midoriya had said, they were very much outside of Yokohama. They didn't know what could get them killed here.

"Have you ever been outside the boarders?" Atsushi asked. He suddenly felt very small as he wrapped his arms around his torso and sunk into himself a bit.

"Never." Nakahara-san answered. He suddenly didn't seem as imposing as before.

"Oh."

Storyboard Part 2

#atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd x bnha #bsd x mha #class 1a #heros #villains #izuku midoriya #moral grey area #what even are morals?#what even is this?#sometimes I just have to get things out of my head #enjoy this crossover #I really need to stop making new things when I haven't even finished my old things

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carrotkicks · 1 year

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If you go with the theory that Dazai came from a super rich family and changed his identity once he was no longer with them, what if Bruce had met Dazai before he was Dazai?

Lol the whole "rich old-money Tsushima family" theory is very beloved to me, though im not sure how true it will end up. I have this inkling that Dazai's backstory is Not as dramatic as other's characters, but also at the same time!

Theory that Dazai was a rich kid with his parents having been tied in some way to the mafia (just like the Wayne family!) and then they suddenly die and at somepoint he is put under the care of Mori who's a trusted personal doctor of the family (and runs an underground clinic JUST like Leslie Thompkins, the Wayne's trusted doctor who runs an underground clinic on Park Row), and gosh thinking abt this potential backstory, dont you think about how if Alfred wasn't around, and Leslie was more of a control freak, she and kid Bruce would have marched up to Carmine Falcone's bedroom, slit his throat, and taken over the biggest organized crime family in Gotham. Oh. That's a cool batman au wait.

Ahh well anyways. Bruce meeting kid Dazai sometime during his misc. time going around the world and learning different fighting techniques and kid Daz or Shuuji or whatever being the. troubled. kid he is gets absolutley facinated by Bruce's quest for justice or whatever.

#NO NO BUT HEAR ME OUT #i have this theory:#Yokohama-elite Tsushima family gets tragically killed.#young shuji gets orphaned by the horribly traumatic event. his depression gets worse. his entire sense of morality gets tilted on it's axis #and shuuji is a smart cookie! he knows his family's money isnt honest. and his parents were involved with the port mafia.#and he knows that the Old Boss. who's been on a paranoid reight of terror in yokohama was responisble for his parents death. and he wants #VENGENCE!#well less death bc to dazai there's nothing more painful than losing the people he loves!! so he rather die than experience any more pain #enter Mori! who saves him and probably mentors him in many ways and shares his sentiments abt the mafia's Boss. so! he stikes a deal #'i'll take the knife and you can just watch. the port mafia will be in our hands in no time' dazai goes along with this plan because #a. he doesnt care either way b. he wants the man responsible for his parent's deaths dead. therfore! time to welcome the new leadership!#<- thus making dazai Asagiri's take on batman #ask

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bellofthemeadow · 1 year

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The Road Ahead - ch 1 | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

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For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Now that Frankie is finally home for good, you can start looking to the future

Notes: Welcome everyone! This is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" Because of some technical difficulties with my old account, I decided that it would be easier to repost my work with a brand-new blog. It's basically the same chapter as the last one, but I did make some edits (mostly syntax tbh). I will be posting the other two chapters later tomorrow and the fourth chapter should be up on sunday.

I hope that those who were following me on my old blog will join me here and I look forward to meeting newcomers!

At Long Last

You find yourself drowning in the itchiness of the comforter draped across you. Its green, worn fabric scratches your overwhelmingly sensitive skin. Surprisingly, today you welcome this sensation. The uncomfortable feeling anchors your mind to your bed, preventing it from floating away. In this moment, as you struggle to catch your breath, the scratchiness of the duvet reminds you where you are.

Your hands glide slowly across the rough fabric, savouring its familiar prickle. As you trace the worn contours, you recall when you saw that green monstrosity for the first time— It was the day you and Frankie had first moved in together all those years ago, right before his second long deployment. From the moment your eyes landed on it, you despised its discoloured hue as it clashed with your envisioned home's colour scheme. But you had kept silent. Frankie was leaving, and you didn't want your last moments together marred by a pointless argument over a green bedspread, no matter how dreadful it looked.

Now, ten years, 2 home relocations and a marriage later, that green duvet stubbornly remains an integral part of your bedroom decor, painfully clashing with the soothing blues surrounding it. Cornflower Blue, as the Home Depot employee had labelled it. You had agonized for days on which colour to go with, tirelessly checking Pinterest boards in the hope to find the perfect shade for your bedroom— A place you hoped would be a peaceful haven for Frankie. You spent weeks deliberating between countless swatches until finally settling on the current hue. Still, the horrid green persistently clashes with the blue you lovingly chose. Perhaps sage green would have been wiser, you think. But you had refused to admit defeat to an old, worn duvet and instead, had stubbornly gone with your first idea, horrid green be damned! But now, to your frustration, the bedroom remains an enduring battleground of colours, an ongoing struggle where different shades vie for supremacy in their quest to dominate the mood of the room.

Yet Frankie had never commented on the jarring combination of green and blue or their blatant mismatch. Perhaps you were making a mountain out of Molehill as you always seem to do. After all, your tendency to dramatize insignificant matters had been a subject of teasing within your family for as long as you could remember. Your brother had a habit of remarking on how seriously you took trivial matters. For your entire lives, nicknames like "Miss Prissy" or "Your Majesty" had been some of the less painful monickers thrown your way to highlight your over-sensitiveness. And while your family saw it as innocent sibling teasing, these remarks had a way of leaving you feeling bruised, unable to brush the comments off as easily as everyone expected you to.

Your hands pause above your bare, sweat-dampened chest, shaking your head to dispel the unwelcomed and intrusive thoughts. Instead, you focus on the blissful moment you’ve just shared with your husband. The memory of that bothersome, green eyesore and all its associated baggage swiftly retreats from your mind, vanishing as fleetingly as it arrived.

Finally, you begin to feel like the easy joys of savouring life are within your reach. With Frankie by your side, you start to envision a newfound freedom to engage in playful bickering, loud laughter, and sheer enjoyment of each other. The mundane moments hold an allure like never before, beckoning you to revel in their ordinary beauty. It's a longing for a life that seems quintessentially American, relentlessly depicted on daytime television—an idyllic portrait of a family, complete with devoted parents and their brood of 2.5 children, nestled in a cozy backyard. PTA meetings, a simple 9-to-5, soccer practices after school, and piano lessons on weekends create the repetitive rhythm of this picture-perfect existence. In your vision, the pinnacle of concern revolves around selecting the ideal flowers for the summer flowerbed. While some may deem it mundane, for you, it represents an exquisite slice of paradise.

Your husband Frankie had gone through years of military service, and he deserves nothing less, you think. Your hands still from their exploration as you think on the nightmares, anxiety, and fear that would consume Frankie. Even here with you, it sometimes felt as though he was still back there, never truly able to be completely present. Like on those many nights when Frankie was on temporary leave, he would wake up screaming and trashing in the middle of the night covered in cold sweats. Or when you guys would be out and about, and his eyes would shift with practiced zeal as if he was assessing for possible threats. Never really “turning off”. No amount of sweet reassuring words were ever able to soothe him when he found himself stuck within his own mind. Every time you tried to discuss these concerns with him, your husband would respond with calm reassurances, followed by a tender kiss on your forehead, urging you not to worry about him.

You shake your head, a resolute movement meant to, again, brush away the intrusive thoughts lingering on the periphery, refusing to let them dim this precious moment. You shift your gaze, fixating on the horizon of possibilities that stretches before you. It is a horizon where love acts as a healing balm, gently tending to the myriad wounds etched upon your husband's past. Your heart, though cautiously guarded, brims with a glimmer of hope, eager to embark on this journey together.

However, despite your best efforts, thoughts of your mother insidiously infiltrate your mind. Over the years, you've clashed with her on countless occasions, yet now, as a married woman, you think back on her warning before you got married. The resonating echo of her stern voice lingers in your thoughts, admonishing you to unwaveringly stand by your husband, regardless of the circumstances, and emphasizing that his happiness must always take precedence over everything else. Strangely, she never mentioned the reverse. With Frankie's return, you resolve to be more present, leaving daydreams behind and focusing on him and solely on him.

As you think of Frankie, you can clearly see his body and how it bears the evidence of his service, a map of scars, some worn openly, while others hide beneath his weary flesh. Deep wounds that bleed and pain him more than any bullet ever could. Words alone seem insufficient in the face of everything he has sacrificed. But now, Frankie is finally home, all of this is behind you two. And isn't all this what marriage vows were meant for? In sickness and in health, through the lows and the highs, you pledged to be there. As you remind yourself, supporting your husband doesn't diminish your strength and independence. It's merely an expression of love and partnership, you firmly resolve, even though the words ring somewhat hollow, as a voice in the back of your mind whispers, "But what about you?"

You slowly redirect your attention to the persistent itchiness on your skin. Taking three deep breaths, you allow each inhale and exhale to anchor you firmly into the present. As the air fills your lungs, you feel your shoulders slowly ease from the tension you always seem to put yourself under.

Now that Frankie is here to stay, you want nothing else than to provide the emotional solace and respite he needs to rebuild and find peace within himself. After everything Frankie has endured, you decide that he deserves a life that is predictably dull yet safe and warm. You want to build that life for him.

As your imagination runs rampant with visions of the life you're now free to construct together, Frankie emerges in the doorway. Clad in nothing more than a familiar, well-worn pair of briefs, he exudes an aura that is unmistakably his own—a blend of warmth, comfort, and a sense of home. In that instant, as you gaze at each other, it feels as though every small longing you held during Frankie's absence has converged into this singular moment. Nothing else matters to you right now except being with him.

In Frankie's hands, he carefully balances a tray, on it a tall glass of ice-cold water adorned with glistening condensation. The hunger stirs within you and your gaze falls upon two perfectly crafted PB and J sandwiches, invitingly prepared. It's evident that even now, the precise conditioning instilled by the army remains ingrained in Frankie. The unwavering precision, tidiness, and discipline persist, even amidst post-coital bliss. Sloppily prepared sandwiches? Never on Frankie’s watch.

Fondness envelops your heart, causing it to flutter with an intensity that threatens to burst from your chest. At this moment, a culmination of experiences floods your mind—the countless sleepless nights spent anxiously awaiting a call, the fear that gripped you while scouring the news for any shred of information, and Frankie's inability to share the depths of what he went through all race to the forefront of your mind. Now, as you reminisce about those moments when others would claim that being with Frankie wasn't worth the pain or hardships, a profound sense of satisfaction fills your heart. You're grateful for having ignored their words, as every single challenge and difficulty encountered along the way—the long-distance separations, the emotional uncertainties, and the sacrifices made—has ultimately proven to mean something. A smile mirrors your own overwhelming happiness as Frankie starts to walk toward the bed.

"I thought you'd have an appetite after all that exercise," Frankie says, his voice laced with a playful tone. His eyes, warm like melted chocolate, cradle you in their soft gaze. They speak volumes, no words needed, telling you just how much he cares.

A mischievous smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you playfully quip, "Guess it doesn't help that we skipped dinner either, huh?"

"I apologize, mi cielo. I suppose I let my excitement get the better of me," Frankie admits, a touch of boyish bashfulness colouring his tone. "After eight long months apart, how could you expect me not to pounce on you, especially when you look so breathtaking?"

With utmost care, Frankie gently places the tray on the tiny side table, taking special care to move aside the book you're currently engrossed in. With the task completed, he turns his gaze towards you, slowly making his way to your side. Your eyes lock, and in an instant, he tenderly captures your mouth with his own. The kiss is unhurried yet filled with an intense passion, a promise of all that is to come, a fulfillment of the multitude of promises you have made to each other. Now, you have all the time in the world to embrace those promises.

As the kiss deepens, Frankie's hands begin to explore your naked body, their touch igniting a fiery desire that resonates deep within you. It engulfs you in a passionate longing that intensifies with each passing second. Frankie's wandering hands halt at your hips, where he gently strokes your sides while deepening the kiss even further. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily, his warm breath mingling with your own. A playful glimmer dance in Frankie’s brown eyes as he firmly grabs your hips, effortlessly flipping you both into the deep plushness of the bed.

A delighted squeal escapes your throat, and you find yourself on top of Frankie, straddling his warm hips. His devilish smile meets your gaze. Like a tidal wave, a rush of excitement cascades through you, electrifying your senses and igniting newfound energy within.

"I thought we were supposed to have dinner," you playfully tease, your hands resting on the firm planes of his pectorals.

Frankie's eyes glisten mischievously as he responds, his voice filled with playful affection, "Don't worry, hermosa. Dinner can wait another minute. Right now, all I want to do is admire you." With a tender touch, he grabs a handful of the fleshy part of your hips, gently massaging your sides. His voice carries on, laced with adoration, "You know, this angle is my favourite. When I see you from above, naked, and sweaty, you look like my very own Amazon. My fierce warrior queen whom I can’t wait to worship." His grip tightens possessively, playfully swatting your behind, causing your flesh to softly jiggle.

You can't help but snort with amusement, firmly grinding down in a slow sensuous movement Frankie exhales a low moan, his eyes closing in pleasure. Yielding to the temptation, you momentarily cease your ministrations and whisper, "Well, last time I checked, librarians weren't renowned for their battle prowess.”

Frankie's smile stretches, his eyes opening and locking with yours, while his hands gently secure your hips. His soft voice echoes sweetly, "Physical prowess is just a fraction of true strength, mi cielo. It's a mindset, a spirit that radiates courage and perseverance. Believe me when I tell you, you possess that strength in a way that surpasses anyone I've ever encountered."

His words envelop you in a comforting embrace that floods your being with warmth. Reflected in his eyes is an unwavering conviction, a faith given to you unlike any you've experienced before. Such belief, one you've never even held for yourself, captivates you. The weight of his words resonates deeply, shaking the core of your being, even as you strive to maintain a facade of nonchalance. But Frankie effortlessly sees through your charade, knowing you better than he knows himself at this point. He slowly pushes his upper body upward and starts peppering your collarbones with tender kisses. You feel your cheeks heating as you shyly avert your gaze, unable to resist the sweetness of his praise and the even sweeter ministration.

A brief moment passes, during which you nibble on your lower lip, contemplating your next words. Finally, you muster the courage to meet Frankie's eyes once more, you push him back down on the mattress and ask, a mischievous glint shining in your eyes, "If I am to be your queen, does that mean you're willing to obey my every command?”

A playful smile dances on Frankie's lips as he replies, "Well, mi cielo, let's just say I'm more than willing to embark on the thrilling adventure of fulfilling your every desire, one command at a time." With those words, Frankie softly grabs your right arm, the very arm that had been holding him down, and he punctuates each word with a tender kiss upon the palm of your hand. As he does so, his eyes gently close, allowing his lips to linger in their affectionate embrace, locked in that sweet moment.

Frankie surrenders to the present, savouring every precious second that slowly passes between the two of you. The ache of longing for you these past months had been insurmountable, a void that only you could fill. Amidst his world engulfed in chaos, pain, and the remanence of a haunting trail of death that seemed eternally imprinted on his very being, your presence at his side has always been the sole beacon of meaning and coherence. The only thing that ever truly mattered to him. Screw everything else; he should have chosen to stay home long ago, before feeling trapped in the abyss he felt he had dug himself into over the years. In an attempt to dispel the encroaching darkness threatening to envelop him, Frankie inhales deeply, pushing away those grim thoughts, before swiftly flipping you over.

Everything else fades away again, and only the two of you remain. As you draw in a deep breath, the air fills your lungs with a trembling intensity, causing a burning sensation. Your chest tightens, not just from the weight of Frankie's presence, but also from the weight of everything that surrounds you, suffocating you in its bittersweet grasp. Tenderly, Frankie gently presses his nose against yours, once, twice, before planting a soft kiss upon its tip.

“My love, I assure you that nothing can ever come between us. There is nothing that could separate me from you. I belong to you for eternity, and as long as I can share my life with you, my dear, it will have been a life worth living, mi cielo.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and with a quiver in your voice, you whisper, "I love you, Frankie."

"Te amo, mi cielo, te amo para siempre," he replies, his words carrying the weight of a vow between you two.

With intertwined fingers and hearts overflowing with love, you gaze into each other's eyes. As you lie there, wrapped in the afterglow of passion, you savour the tranquillity and completeness that permeates the room. You vow to cherish each day, to embrace the ordinary moments that always become extraordinary when you are with Frankie. Together, you will face the world with open hearts, ready to create this future you’ve always yearned for with Frankie. As Frankie peppers kisses down your throat, you smile, and a shuddering breath escapes you. Food can wait you think giddily. Your hands gently glide along the broad expanse of his back, savouring him in all his glorious being. Nothing else matters now, for Frankie is home.

#reposted from my old blog #welcome to my new blog!#fanfic #fanfiction #a03 #archive of our own #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro boys #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #francisco morales #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfic #francisco morales x reader

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theshadowrealmitself · 11 months

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It is always in the back of my mind that Olivia Octavius was the Doc Ock of Miles’ universe, like they were in the same universe the entire time!! That’s his Doc Ock!! Was she like a well known supervillain throughout his childhood? Did anyone have any clue to her identity (outside of the Parkers)?? Was it like a big deal to Miles to suddenly learn of this supervillain’s identity even if they hadn’t fought before because everyone in New York knows about Doc Ock??

Even if he had no personal connection to her, had never fought her before, had never met her civilian identity (I think), that’s still a big deal to suddenly find out what a supervillain looks like/is called outside of their costume, right??

#I wanna know more about Miles growing up with these villains that he (and everyone else in New York) relied on Peter to fight #and then suddenly adjusting to them being *his* villains #(as well as getting his own villains as his own superhero identity)#I want a mixture of him accepting the mantle and making it his own #I wonder if any villains retired when they saw that there was a new Spidey #like if they had that thought of ‘well if the new generation is picking up the hero work then maybe villainy should be passed off too’#or if any of them just didn’t wanna fight a new Spidey because they missed the old one too much #i wanna know so much more about Miles universe and all that so badly #Miles Morales #olivia octavius #doc ock #doctor octopus #Spiderman #spider man #spider-man

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memelordotherblog · 4 months

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You know I tormented Mickey too much with shipping his moral enemies together, Oswald should be included.

So consider these two secretly seeing eachother:

#we got a new crackship #j.p whiskers #eil squnich #to be fair jp isn’t really a moral enemy more of a jerk but that just makes funnier.#old man yaoi #oswald the lucky rabbit #banking shipping

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girlmartok · 2 months

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one of my biggest issues with new trek is that it keeps trying to make every season of every new show have such a monumental scale that it circles right back around to being irrelevant. there's always a huge evil plot to destroy everything in the universe slash starfleet (and the assumption that starfleet and the federation IS everything ((and that everyone should want to join)) is a whole other debate) and our rag-tag crew of misfits has to save the poor defenseless federation against all odds etc etc..... like i get it, big stakes = big action = big emotion. but it's too big. it's lazy. when "everything" is on the line, characters don't have to justify why they're risking their lives because, duh, it's obvious, they're doing it because they have to etc etc. there's literally no believable alternative in the narrative.

whereas a smaller scale issue (i.e. voyager stuck in the DQ, dealing with the cardassian occupation of bajor, and so on; still big problems to solve! but they don't affect the entire fabric of society) has moral gray areas and also specific goals the main characters should achieve other than just "save everyone in the universe". the characters could and did question their own motives and actions because there wasn't one right answer! the shows were about thinking about what the right answer was!!! how am i supposed to believe that the real treasure was the friends we made along the way if i don't care about the ""way"" in the first place????

#also just the constant 'oh no a super powerful Enemy is attacking all our carefully constructed moral goodness points!'#did we learn nothing from the xenophobic ent 9/11 fiasco #i'm just so tired of season finales that try to make me care about a fleet of spaceships getting destroyed in a giant battle lmao #rewatching picard and prodigy back to back and i feel like i've been bombarded with subliminal nationalism #i was so hopeful about prodigy. they started out SO FAR AWAY from the federation and this whole tendency #but no #again this is my old man yelling at the sky moment because this is just the way modern television is i guess #trek just seems to take it a bit too literal for my tastes #WHATEVER #a high definition voy or ds9 remaster would save me i think #i'm drawn in by the prettiness of new shows but then let down by the storytelling 😔

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