#O‚_‚O < catfish :]

[magpiepills]

Once and Future

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f reader

Word count: 500

Summary: a short but dirty interlude with the pussy eating king, long may he reign.

Warnings: oral f receiving, fingering, Frankie’s curls

A word from the author: Oh nothing, just something I think @legendary-pink-dot might like. Little ode to the hair we all love.

They feel like silk. The smooth strands slip between your fingers, twisting and tangling, warm in your hands.

Frankie knows you like it when his curls are wild are unkempt, a rebellion against his early military days or short cropped hair, he lets it grow.

You love the way it spills out from under his trusty blue cap, mocha, hickory, java, chocolate, walnut, and now hints of silver beginning to thread through Frankie’s hair. Despite the tell-tale sign of his aging, his locks are still thick, still called for you to run your fingers through and tug gently, or scratch lightly at his scalp when you kissed him. He purred when you did, and groaned when you buried your nose in his hair and pressed your body close to his. The smell of his sweat and his shampoo were as good as any cologne.

Frankie tightened his arms around you and maneuvered you to your back. He pulled your hands from his hair and pressed them against the kitchen table he laid you out on and kissed you soundly, devouring your mouth, sucking his way down your neck and across your chest, fighting to tug your tshirt up so he could mouth at your breasts and lave his tongue wetly across your perking nipples.

He squeezed your hips as he kissed down your belly to the waistband of your jeans. He made a frustrated sound as he fumbled with the button and the zipper, his thick fingers rushed and clumsy, but he had them undone and pulled down your thighs before you could stop him or do it yourself. He was too overcome with need to stop, anyway.

He forgot about your sneakers, knocking together now as your ankles crossed and your knees were pressed up and open for him. Without hesitation Frankie buried his face into your pussy. He relished it, the taste, the smell, the way your heat radiated against his face. Sucking and licking, he ate you. He felt crazed, greedy, hungry for more and more.

Beneath him, you squirmed, your body seeking his out, blooming for him, open and welcoming. When two rough fingers ease inside, you clench, soaking him, making him moan.

Until now you’d kept your hands where he put them, he made you want to be obedient for him, but as you felt the heat beginning to spread over your hips and thighs and belly, you grabbed his hair in your fists, keeping him right where you needed him, lips and tongue working diligently against your clit as his thick fingers pumped in and out, a warning of the stretch his cock would be.

Your hips and knees jerked as your orgasm rippled through you, like a seismic wave of pleasure, leaving you panting in its wake.

Frankie licked you carefully, kissing your tender pussy until your body relaxed. He took your hands from his sweat damp curls once more, and told you “turn over.”

[quietwingsinthesky]

oh right. second thing from earlier i was contemplating. you know what would be a fun thought experiment? s11/s12 doctor/master swap. as in, missy gets off the colony ship, regens into spymaster, and then crashes to earth in front of the tardis fam. meanwhile the doctor loses themself in the matrix until she finds out about her past and without either the balm of first knowing the fugitive doctor part of her OR having the master there to act as something to fight back against, it. doesn’t break her. but it does shake something fundamental in her that leaves some cracks. maybe she’s not ready to burn gallifrey yet, but she’s not not considering it. and meanwhile back to spymaster who went ‘FINE. guess ill have companions. whatever. i dont see what the doctor sees in you freaks, you’re all pathetic and i hate you but i’m still shaking off the missy bits of me and trying to figure out who i am. maybe i’ll kill you all later but right now i’ll take you to meet your grandma, sure.’

eventually they’re gonna collide, but i think it’d be a very fun season set to swap them in. the master reluctantly bonds with a group of humans, maybe impersonates the doctor a bit while he does, bonus points if he thinks she’s dead for realsies because he didn’t know which regeneration she was on and assumed it was her last. meanwhile the doctor is insanely traumatized from losing bill and nardole and missy turning on her in one fell swoop, went home, and immediately got bricked over the head with the fact that home is where she was killed and exploited to build their society.

[evercelle]

other than genshin and dr, what other games/animes/shows are you interested in? would you draw them?

currently watching dungeon meshi, freiren, shangri-la frontier and the apothecary diaries!! (also mashle lmao but that's one of my friend's picks for weekly anime watch night, not mine...) Dunmeshi is one of my all time fave manga, and I'm really enjoying freiren too. highly recommend both

games: been playing a lot of baldurs gate 3... my pal and I are doing a tactician run now (': and tomorrow, a game I've been really looking forward to is coming out! "Octopia" which is a farm sim AU for the game "Eastward," which I also super recommend. Wonderful indie RPG with gorgeous pixel art

would I draw art for any of those... probably not lol even tho I post a lot I don't usually draw fanart unless I REALLY gotta exorcise some demons about it haha. The ousai worms are still fully engaged atm but I love looking at other peeps fanworks 🎵

[meulinmakesmatesprites]

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ < IMAGINE + STIMBOARD

🌹🌻🌹 , 🌻🌹🌻 , 🌹🌻🌹

ฅ^ >ヮ<^₎ < IMAGINE BRUSHING YOUR F/OS HAIR, WHILE THEY LAY THEIR HEAD DOWN ON YOUR THIGHS AND VICE VERSA!!

≽^•⩊•^≼ < IMAGINE RUNNING YOUR HANDS THROUGH YOUR F/O'S HAIR AND VICE VERSA !!!

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ < IMAGINE PUTTING BEADS ON YOUR F/O'S BRAIDS, JEWELRY ON YOUR F/O'S DREADS, IMAGINE PICKING OUT YOUR F/O'S AFRO AND PUTTING HAIR CLIPS ON YOUR F/O'S HAIR AND VICE VERSA!!

ฅᨐฅ < IMAGINE BRAIDING YOUR F/O'S HAIR AND VICE VERSA !!

/ᐠ. .ᐟ\ฅ < IMAGINE STYLING AND WASHING YOUR F/O'S HAIR AND VICE VERSA!!

^._.^ ▄︻デ══━一💥 < PROSHITTERS DNI!!!

[wordywarriorwrites]

Heat

Heat |  A03 | Rating: M

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F! Reader

Summary: You and Frankie take the next step in your relationship.

Warnings: A/B/O. NSFW. Smut. Language.

The house smells like you.

Your scent permeates every corner, filling Frankie’s lungs and clouding his senses the moment he steps inside. The windows are wide open, welcoming in the cool, fall breeze, but the strength of the wind billowing the curtains and rushing through the house does nothing to dissipate it.

Ambrette, citrus, and ylang-ylang – he can taste it in the air. Just like a siren’s song, the urge to seek more of it is too powerful to ignore, and as soon as he sheds his coat and kicks off his boots, he lets his nose lead him past the kitchen, out of the living room, and into your shared bedroom.

The afternoon sun is high, and bright streaks of light coming in from the window above the clawfoot bathtub catch on the sweat beading your brow and along the column of your throat. Frankie wants to lap it. Savor it. Swallow it down.

Fuck, he’s so hungry for you…  

But you’ve been off for the past few weeks. Moping. Pouting. Making him sleep on the couch only to wake him in the middle of the night and insist he return to bed because you can’t sleep without him. You’ve been quick to anger and even quicker to tears, watching movies and reading books that upset you that much more. Frankie’s lost count of the number of times he’s catered to your nesting urges, and sex, once consistent and passionate, has seesawed between ferally enthusiastic or entirely absent.   

You swear it’s nothing.

But you called off work today. Now, you’re weaving on your feet, head dangling over the sink as if you may tip over at any second. Rivulets of water are streaming down the back of your neck, sliding off your mouth and chin to stop at the collar of your shirt. Your teeth are chattering, fingers curling into claws against the countertop as you groan and curse your discomfort.

It’s not nothing. It’s very much something. In fact, it’s everything.

He sends a couple of texts – one to his boss to clear his schedule for the time being, and the other to the guys, telling them to keep away until he says otherwise. Frankie doesn’t wait for responses; once the messages are out, he shuts off his phone, absentmindedly dropping it onto the nightstand and directing the entirety of his focus onto you.  

“Hermosa?” he calls, tone low and steady as he slowly approaches. “You alright?” 

“I forgot,” you breathe, furrowing your brow and pressing your hand to your lower abdomen. “I forgot how bad it hurts.” 

The distress and pain you feel – it rushes through the bonding mark so furiously, so swiftly, that it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.  

“Y’smell good enough to eat, guapo,” you croon, voice straining and breathy.  

He chuckles and inches closer, “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come back sooner.”  

You shake your head slowly, “You were in the air. Wasn’t gonna interrupt that.”  

“You need me, you call,” Frankie barks testily. “Nothing’s more important than you.” 

You’re too stubborn for your own damn good – jutting your chin and sticking out your tongue as if it were no big deal. As if today was just another day. Frankie, on the other hand, has been preparing for this since the moment you stopped taking your suppressants and birth control over a year ago, and he’ll be damned if he’s not at home with you for every, single moment of it.  

The changes in you over the past twelve months have prompted his own, special type of metamorphosis. While not nearly as drastic or severe as what you’ve gone through, his own body, behavior, and way of thinking have significantly altered.  

Adding on extra pounds, not cutting his hair, drenching himself in your scent, and encouraging you to renew the mark you graced him with – they’re all outward displays showing he’s strong and capable of taking care of his Omega and whatever offspring he may have with you. It also proves to unmated females and other Alphas looking to court that you’re his, he’s yours, and he intends to breed you.  

The heightened aggression, the need to protect you and the home you made together, and the urge to have you beneath him at all times – they’re all indicators that your fluctuating hormones have been doing their job, and he can physically, mentally, and emotionally feel you pulling him into a rut the likes of which he hasn’t experienced since first presenting.    

Frankie’s been stocking up on essential supplies while you’ve been not-so-subtly covering the bed with endless blankets and pillows to burrow in. You’ve been wearing the same shirt – his favorite shirt – for four days, and he can’t get you to take it off, even just to wash it. He also hasn’t showered in three days because all the books say not to, as it’ll be his unaltered, natural scent that grounds you and comforts you through it.     

Your first heat together. The first time trying for young together.

“Cariño, I think it’s time,” he murmurs. 

You swallow a handful of water and let out a ragged breath, “I know.”

Frankie takes it upon himself to turn off the tap, and as the water gurgles, he reminds you that you’re safe. You’re shaking, wincing with every breath, and he reassures you that everything you need is in the bedroom. He offers you a steady hand, and you place your trembling one in his, allowing him to guide you out of the ensuite. 

“We talked about this,” Frankie whispers against your temple, fingers reaching for the snap on your jeans. “We’re ready for this, aren’t we?”

You nod. Let out a croaky, ‘yes.’ He lowers the zipper and wrangles the well-worn denim past your hips and over your knees. Kneeling at your feet, he helps you step out of your pants and slips your socks off one by one. You’re already writhing, skin clammy and hot to the touch. Your scent, combined with your arousal, is so much stronger now, making his mouth water and his cock throb.  

This isn’t his first rut, and it’s difficult to put a leash on his baser instincts, to handle you with the delicacy and patience you deserve for your first heat with him, but he manages it. He can do anything, endure anything, for you.  

Frankie swallows hard and looks up at you, “I’ll take care of you. Promise.”  

You stare down at him – lips parted and eyes dilated, chest heaving and limbs tight. A tear slips down your cheek, and your stomach jumps when he presses a gentle kiss to the freckle above your belly button.  

He rises slowly, careful not to startle you. Mouth pressed into a hard line and fingers twisted in the hem of your damp t-shirt – he takes his own steadying breath and reminds himself this moment is precious, meaningful, and not to be spoiled.  

It takes effort to peel the cotton from your body, and your bra isn’t much better, the fabric straining and digging harshly into your skin. Frankie knows you’re uncomfortable, when he releases the hooks and gently slides the straps from your shoulders, you sigh. It’s that tiny, almost inaudible sound of relief that buoys him, fills his chest with something indescribable – makes him feel like a man worthy of his woman and an Alpha capable of servicing his Omega. 

“I can’t – I keep fucking crying,” you blurt, shoulders curled, and head bent. 

“S’okay, cariño,” he sighs, rocking you gently and nuzzling your neck. “I got you.” 

You make a sound in the back of your throat that vibrates through him, giving him a headrush that makes his hindbrain lean into you, into your mating, even more. You settle enough to undress him, and Frankie watches with rapt attention as your instincts unfurl like a clenched fist.  

Each seemingly insignificant action becomes tender, almost reverent, and absolutely wondrous. The way you look at him and scent-mark him. How you carefully touch him and move with him. The need to dominate, to assert his control, to make you present yourself to him – you’re somehow channeling it, meeting it, and feeding it with your own calming nature, and it brings a new balance to his rut that he’s never felt before.  

It’s a sacred dance. Ritualistic. Sensuous. Something your kind have done since the beginning of time and will no doubt continue to do long after the two of you are dust.  

When you’re both naked and settled deeply into the nest you built, the weight of it all, the seriousness of it – it’s still there, but it becomes less of a burden and more of an honor. The two of you are as you’ve always been – bared to each other, vulnerable, but safe. Committed. Loving.  

“Te amo,” you murmur. “So much, Frankie.”

Frankie presses a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, too, hermosa.” 

The corner of your mouth quirks – a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing that gets wiped away when you cup his cheek and kiss him, and he simply melts into you, into the assurance of your touch and the comfort of your presence and the way it all just clicks into place.  

Tears return. This time, you let out great, heaving sobs of relief when he gets you off with his fingers, and his own scent surges in response to mingle with yours. Your release takes the edge off the pain and eventually gives way to even more pleasure when he puts his mouth to use to make you come until your thighs shake. 

“Papi,” you entreat, fingers tugging at his curls. “I – I need…”  

“I know querida,” he groans, licking into your mouth. “Let me give it to you, yeah?” 

His mustache is covered in your slick. Your inner thighs are littered with his teeth marks. The peak of your nipple against the flat of his tongue and the heel of your foot pressing into the meat of his ass. You’re lying on your side, and he takes you just like that – bodies slotting together like two puzzle pieces as he bottoms out in a single thrust.  

Your core is molten and saturated, fluttering and squeezing, and you hold him in an embrace that’s simultaneously tender and urgent. The soft sounds you make, the way your breath stutters, and how your tongue tastes when he sucks on it. There’s no hiding your greed, or how desperately he wants to breed you, and when you bare your teeth and demand more from him, the pleased rumble Frankie lets out is more beast than man. 

“Fuck, you feel s’good,” he grunts, digging his fingers into your thigh, allowing his hips to swing freely for a moment before slowing. “I’m tryin’ not to – I don’t wanna…”   

You nip at his chin and rake your nails down his shoulder, “M’ready. I can take it.” 

It doesn’t take much to maneuver you into place, and you fall into the presenting position with such graceful ease, with such eagerness, that something in his chest tightens.

Lazy thrusts morph into harsher snaps of his hips. You go lax, limbs supple and spine melting, and when the tears fall this time, you’re smiling – brow smoothed, looking resplendent, and entirely pleased with yourself. He slips a hand between your thighs and strokes clit, bringing forth another rush of wetness that will make the next part easier.  

When you’ve saturated his groin, Frankie finally drapes himself over your back, rocks into you as deeply as your body will allow, and digs his teeth into your scent gland until you yip out a comingled sound of submission and pleasure. 

“Tell me, mi pequeño lobo,” he pants in your ear. “Tell me you want this.”  

“I want this,” you repeat throatily. “I want you. Please, Alpha…”  

It’s as if your words are the permission he needs to give in to the instinct – to finally let go and do what needs to be done. Supporting you, protecting you, and loving you – it’s just the beginning of a story that’s still being written. Breeding you, knowing it will likely be successful, that he’ll have made you his in the most primal of ways – that’s the next chapter.  

Frankie’s orgasm is indescribably, incomparably intense. A prolonged release that feels too good, one that’s on the knife’s edge of pain, somehow bringing forth feelings of helplessness and complete control. The delirious sense of peace he feels when he knots you. And when you come again for him, and your body just takes it all – accepting everything he has to offer – it’s wonderous in the extreme. 

Spooning you to keep you close, to supply comfort, to keep you warm, and to ensure nothing is lost or wasted – it’s as natural as breathing. Eyes welling. Pride surging. Frankie’s seen you safely through the first wave, and again, it’s your sigh and contentment coming through the bond that lets him know he’s done everything right.  

“We’re ready for this,” you tell him, voice full of excitement and certainty. 

“Si, mi corazón,” he agrees, your echoing of his earlier words renewing his own conviction and joy. “We’re ready for this.” 

[just-avocado]

*squints* Is that FitMC from 2b2t???

Yes it is and I’m finally posting him bc I’ve had him in my pocket for days and I don’t wanna keep forgetting I haven’t shown him to anyone :,)

This is a part *reads blank hand* six? To me trying to draw everyone bc character designing has no right to be as fun as it is, anyway I gave him a prosthetic arm for funsies, think of it as an injury from 2b2t

But yeah I actually came to discover Fit through the QSMP, him and Dan were the only English ccs that I wasn’t familiar with but I actually knew who Dan was, anyway for a while I was very neutral about him and his character since I didn’t really see him much on the POVs I watched and he wasn’t central to any lore but at some point I was like “You know what I wanna watch some POVs I’ve never seen before” bc that’s what the QSMP is all about yknow so I watched a livestream or two and now I love Fit and I’m super invested in his lore and Ramon is like my second favorite egg and I catch every stream I can so thanks QSMP for introducing me to this wonderful streamer lmao

[fernshawart]

I tried to make some Splatoon designs based on some aquatic species I found cool !

[sorrcha]

some fish of the orinoco basin

[full-time-femboy]

I refuse to fix/add more to this

He/him for Kitty

[circle-around-again]

was scrolling through the kit fisto wiki. normal.

In what fucking world.

look. I don't want to rock the boat but

I love him. I do. But he pancaked. search your feeligns

[baked-bread]

the most annoying part of having a birthday is updating your age in bio. but i persist nonetheless

[merziggy-printworks]

Trying my hand at some digital sticker designs for a market I'm participating in at the end of the month.

Design is based on my monster cat who is sadly in the midst of having a mystery itchy skin condition diagnosed so he's been living the cone/donut life long term. Thought I'd pay my respects to his discomfort with some festive Halloween decor.

[meulinmakesmatesprites]

/ᐠ≽•ヮ•≼マ <RAMBLE ABOUT UR SELFSHIPS!!

ฅ^ >ヮ<^₎ < ABOUT ANYTHING JUST MAKE SURE ITS NONSEXUAl AND PROSHITTERS DONT INTERACT W/ DA POST!!! YOU CAN ASK ME TO RESPOND OR MAKE A MOOD/STIMBOARD IF YOU WANT BY @ ING ME ON DA REBLOG OR COMMENT!!!

TAGS : @h0t-p1nk-ch33tah-pr1nt

[cyberfunsupporter]

o/ngsasun had so much potential until sun started acting funny and being generally ungrateful/rude and then outing o/ngsa and acting as if it was her fault 😭 because a girl not being ready to come out is some kind of incredibly selfish offense… she didn’t even know if her parents were homophobic, had they turned out to be what would’ve happened? damn sun just doesn’t think about her i swear

[pine-niidles]

Commission for @yonah952 of them as a singing catfish because they’ve started making music 🐟

Commission Info | My Links  

[sleepiesttoken]

some songs i’ve had on repeat recently

(that aren’t sleep token because it’s good to branch out sometimes)

showtime - catfish and the bottlemen

under you - foo fighters

decode - paramore

supremacy - muse

lust for life - lana del ray (ft. the weeknd)

creepy green light - type o negative

my way - young the giant