#frankie's creations

[gloomth-and-wanderings]

is this anything

[pedrorascal]

[caprichomonster]

[briarquartz]

Draculaura, Clawdeen and Frankie drawn by Lou Choquette for Monster High celebrates Pride. “The core idea is about friendship, relationships, healing each other, supporting each other, and being stronger together.”

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

jacob trying to sell frankie on moving to santa fe because nearby albuquerque is the hot air balloon capitol of the world or whatever, but then grace is the one who gives frankie access to a hot air balloon in the finale (a hot air balloon that's a romantic gesture she stole from nick to give to frankie, no less!)

even now, after all these years, i am not immune to the profound romantic subtext of s3 grace and frankie 🥺

[grogusmum]

November: Mourning Moon

A Conversations with Dead People Companion

This one probably does require reading the original fic; you can find it here

FRANKIE MORALES X F!READER with Holly

W/C 1400ish

WARNING: angsty, dead wife, ghost, that's about it.

A/N Welcome to my very late November installment for @yearofcreation2023 (a fantastic notion by @oonajaeadira.)

Frankie climbs the steps of the 400-year-old cemetery, this time with his daughter, Julieta. Snow has been falling for a good twenty minutes, and last night's snow crunches underfoot. It’s not unheard of to have snow in November in the Northeast, even if it’s becoming more rare. It’s been a little more than a year since Frankie’s first visit with Holly. It only takes a moment before she falls into silent step with them. Slipping between them, as they seem to have left space for her, she takes each of their gloved hands in her bare ones.

“I'm so glad to see you, my loves.”

“Holly,” Frankie sighs. “Missed you, babe.”

“Mama!” 

“Oh jellybean, I'm so glad you came," Holly brings her daughter's hand to her cold cheek, then turns to her husband, “You came.”

“Yeah.”

“But not just to say hello.”

“Yeah,” Frankie looks at his wife, looking just as she did in life. This isn't going to be easy. “I've- I-”

Holly smiles, right up to her eyes -

“You've met someone.”

Frankie just gives a tight smile, she always makes things easier, he should have remembered.  His eyes go bright, and he rubs his face with his free hand. 

“Darling, that's truly wonderful. You deserve it, Frankie. And you deserve a mama.”

“I only have one mama, but I like her,” Julieta says. 

as they reach the top of Burial Hill the wind kicks up, snow swirling unable to decide which way is down. They are alone, no dog walkers, no couples taking in the view. It's beautiful but cold.

“We just wanted to tell you that. I don’t know, I couldn't just… not without your blessing.”

“You know my answer,” Holly says, giving Frankie a chilly kiss on the cheek, he shivers and smiles. “Tell me all about her.” 

Frankie tells Holly where you are from, what you do… how he feels when he's with you. Julieta shares stories of the first time you came to her soccer game, and how you make the best hot chocolate- with a quick apology, meaning no offense to Holly’s cocoa. To which Holly gifts them with the hearty laugh they love so well. 

“You aren't offending me, jellybean, it comes from a box!  But watch out, I hear the Swiss Miss gets migh-ty jealous!”

“We told her all about you. She wants to come and visit,” Julieta says, swinging Holly's arm as they walk and hold hands.

Holly looks at Frankie, then at Julieta-

“Me me? Or my -” Holly nods at the white gravestone a few paces away. 

“I told her I talk to you a lot, and about that time last fall…” 

“You did?”

“Yeah, and she wasn't weirded out at all. She doesn't expect you to come to her- make yourself um… known. She just wants to put a wreath on your grave, pay her respects.”

You sat in the little coffee place on the main street, mindlessly stirring your tea, watching the windows for Frankie and Julieta. The wreath you made of blue spruce, juniper berries, pine cones, and of course, holly, a wide white grosgrain ribbon tied in a single fluffy bow sits on the seat next to you. You don't expect to see Holly. No. But you figure she'll hear you… you thought about all the things you wanted to tell her, trying to imagine being at the receiving end of it. As if you are the one who lost her life, the love of her life, and the apple of her eye… you close your eyes, a small tear slips down. 

Are you being weird? Performative? 

Just then you see the two most important people to come into your life, saving you from spiraling.

They wave. Frankie gives Julieta some money and kisses her head, then comes to your table while his daughter goes to the counter. He kisses your forehead and sits, “Jules is ordering us a warm-up. It's freezing up the hill. The wind.”

You nod, and another sneaky tear rolls down.

“Hey,” Frankie's brows knit together, “are you- did something happen?”

Frankie looks around for the culprit. You huff a smile at his protectiveness. You found yourself a bulldog, complete with soft, sad brown eyes, who loves his belly rubbed.

“I'm just- it's an emotional day. I guess.”

“I guess it is,” Frankie nods.

After hot chocolate and coffee (and the cookie the size of Jules' face), everyone is warmed up and bundles up to climb back up the hill.

Holly keeps her distance this time, watching the three of you reach the crest of the hill. Frankie puts his hand on your lower back, guiding you on the snow-covered brick path toward Holly’s stone. Holly pines for that hand, warm and solid on the small of her back, just one more time. Pearly tears spill over. She isn't jealous, well, that's not true. Holly is envious of you; she's just not angry with you. She feels swindled, but not by you. You are again bringing joy to her husband and child, love and care that Holly can not provide anymore. She's grateful for you, just incredibly sad for herself. 

Holly pops over to the stone, their destination, and continues observing you. You have kind eyes, carrying a rueful smile. At least now it is, understandably, but Holly can see the shadow of crinkles around your eyes and laugh lines. You have a lovely wreath. If Holly had to picking one out of a million for herself, she would have chosen that one. 

You look at Jules and kiss her brown curls; they look at Frankie like you're looking for some help. He gives your hand a squeeze.

“It's a beautiful stone,” you murmur. Frankie puts a little rod, like a shepherd's hook, in the ground before it. Since it’s so early in the season, the ground isn't frozen hard despite the snow. Then, you hang the wreath on it. 

“Thank you for your family,” you say, and then cringe a little; Frankie kneels next to you, taking your hand in his. He nods.

“I'm…” you look at them with pleading eyes.

Julieta takes your other hand and introduces you. You kiss a thank you on her temple.

“I just wanted to come and give my respects, to um, tell you that I love your husband, and your kid here is a delight. By the photos all over the house, I can see she is the perfect combination of the two of you. I just wanted t-to assure you that they will be cared for, I hope nearly so well as when they were with you. Because, I can see your love everywhere in that house. The nursery room mural you painted full belly pregnant with Jules here, Frankie's shown me photos of your gardens. And the recipe book you put together b-before… everything, so Frankie could make all his and Julieta’s favorites. I can't replace you, of course, no one can. But I hope - well, I just-”

You look up at the white stone, your knees cold in the snow but your face hot, trying to find the words.

Holly moves to stand behind the headstone, looking down at your worried face, and puts out her hand. You blink. A graceful hand suddenly appears before her stone, right between the carved words wife and mother. Your eyes slowly follow the wrist, then arm, to the face of Holly Morales. 

After a small gasp, you take her outstretched hand and stand. Frankie and Jules slowly follow.

“Thank you for loving my family,” Holly says, placing her other hand over yours. You can feel the seeping cold through your glove, but you feel no reason to shiver. Her eyes are so full of love and gratitude and grace. “I am entrusting them in your care.”

“I do,” you say, “I mean, am, I will love and care for them with all my heart.”

“and let them care for you, and love you,” Holly so wisely adds.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes.

“I will.”

Holly looks at Jules, hand grazing her cheek. Her eyes travel to Frankie's, his tears falling freely. Unnoticed, the snow had stopped falling, and sunshine fought its way past the clouds.  Only noticed now when a shaft brightened the hill, causing a swirl of snow caught on the wind to sparkle like diamonds. And in that shimmer of snow and light, Holly is gone.

Frankie presses a kiss to your temple.

“She likes you.”

THANKS FOR READING! 💚

Year of Creation: the Wheel of the Year Masterlist

MAIN MASTERLIST

If you care to be tagged for any of my works, my taglist form can be found here! I've added my Year of Themed Creations Series

[thecursedprince]

⚡️🖤

—————————————————————————————

#monsterhigh #monsterhighhauntcouture #monsterhighdolls #mattelcreations #monsterhighcollection #ghoul #ghouls #monster #draculaura #frankiestein #frankie #lagoonablue #cleodenile #cleo #clawdeenwolf #skelitacalaveras #skelita #lagoona #clawdeen #wearwolf #vampire #mummy #bat #frankenstein #locknessmonster #skeleton #manster #mattel #hauntcouture #powerghouls

[radargrind2091]

-All content belongs to Mattel

[jennrypan]

The fact that G3 CAN make black character deisgns..

And then made Clawdeen the most white washed version of herself is fucking evil actually.

You're telling me..Venus looks GOOD and actually looks black coded but the ONE(1) black character we had.

Is light skin, mixed, her personality is softer and more watered down and her original style is washed out??

Fuck you. Tf.

Clawdeen should've gotten the same treatment, but noooo let's make her mixed despite. Already have two latina(? Corrent term??) characters (Lagoona and Skellita) so..why couldn't Clawdeen be kept BLACK? Why did she need to be mixed for her to be the main character?? It's fucking gross and weird.

[flightlessangelwings]

FlightlessAngelWings’ A Year of Protectiveness Masterlist

As anyone who has read anything of mine knows, I live for protectiveness! So when @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms opened up the “Year of Creations” event, it was a no brainer what my theme would be!

I’m using this Prompt list, one dialogue prompt and one action prompt and a different character each month.

To stay up to date on when I post, please also follow my update blog and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates

As always, my blog and all fics are 18+ only! Minors do not follow or interact! Most of these have smut and they’re all labeled with what type of reader it is on each fic.

❤️ = personal favorite

~

January- Joel Miller ❤️

February- Pero Tovar

March- Poe Dameron

April- Frankie Morales & Santiago Garcia

May- Frank Castle ❤️

June- Javi Gutiérrez

July- Comandante Veracruz

August- Tasm!Peter Parker

September- Axe Woves ❤️

October- Marc Spector *

November- Loki

December- Din Djarin

* Note- Octobers will be posted in November due to kinktober!

[gloomth-and-wanderings]

guess who's attempting to learn tambour!

[pedrorascal]

#anxious is his only setting

[caprichomonster]

[peeblestem]

i thought i would never be able to get her but here we are omg

[grogusmum]

JULY: Buck Moon

Frankie Morales x gn!Reader (nicknamed Rocket)

W/C: 1200ish

RATED: M

WARNINGS: Smut, missionary, unprotected sex because it's fantasy. If I've inadvertently indicated gender please DM me and let me know, and as always if there is something I missed please let me know in my DMs and I will add it.

A/N: Here is the July installment of The Wheel of the Year, my theme for @yearofcreation2023. Organized by the effervescent @oonajaeadira and @writeforfandoms

This is a companion to my one shot Your Spot Okay, I should admit from the jump. This is not all that pagany. It’s smut. Sorry. But not really. Oops. I just, okay, this is what happened on Frankie Friday, I was thinking about him and Rocket. I also kind of got interested in the challenge of writing a smut for a gender neutral reader, if I could manage it. Fingers crossed.

“Why is it the Buck Moon?” Frankie wondered aloud, sitting by the fire in his camp chair, watching the full moon rise.

“It’s called that by some North American tribes, its also called the berry moon and salmon moon by others. Cuz it’s berry pickin time and like spawning season- you know how salmon are,” you laughed. "Anyway, it's the Buck moon because, you know how they drop their antlers each year… then new antlers grow and are bigger? July’s when the male deer’s antlers are at their peak size,” you explained as you held up two bottles of beer, "want one?”

Frankie nodded.

You sat, handing him the beer, he murmurs his thanks as you clinked the bottles together.

“Peak size you say?” Frankie said after taking a long pull from the bottle, his cocked eyebrow and smirk didnt go unnoticed.

You snorted a laugh.

You and he had decided to take it slow, but there were definitely times when putting on the breaks was getting more challenging, especially since you did so much camping together. There was a lot of necking and humping like teenagers. Since there was no benchmark either of you were waiting for, frankly, the question no one was asking but mostly definitely wondering at this point was why?

“Like it represents, virility … abundance… passion”

“So, mmmm what do people do?”

You swallowed, “well, you know we’re doin it. We caught fish and grilled it along with the veggies we picked from your garden- which is amazing. Did you know you had such a green thumb?”

Frankie tucked his beer in the little holder on the arm of the canvas chair. Then he took yours, and did the same, his warm hand came to your jaw, turning your face to his-

“What else might someone do?”

“Well, you know people … just try … to tap into that energy and you know start something new?”

Frankies lips pressed against yours to punctuate every word-

“Tap virility?”

“Yeah” you whispered after he pulled away infintesably.

“Tap passion?”

Your ‘mhm’ was swallowed by Frankie sealing his mouth to yours. When he pulled away he pulled you out of your chair, and ran his hands down your sides.

“Are we done waiting?”

“Yyyyeahh” you groaned.

As it was a perfect July night, you had planned to sleep under that moon and the stars, with no tent. So you both just tumbled onto your bedrolls. The clearing, your spot, was so protected, so out of the way that neither of you held any self-consciousness at pulling at each other's clothes until you were both completely undressed. The large moon shown on his body, his broad shoulders, and the slight curve of his belly. Sitting on his knees in front of you, your eyes traveled lower to the part of him you have only ever seen and felt through his clothes, above his strong thighs his length jutted proudly, to your mind perfect in size, with an enticing curve. You knelt before him, and when your eyes came back to his face, he wasn’t smug, though with your mouth hanging open, he probably had every right. He was busy looking at your body, fully naked for the first time in front of him. It was worshipful. When his eyes met yours, there was a question.

Am I enough?

You shuffled over to him, taking the forgotten ball cap off his head, and ran your fingers through his hair. Then, you climbed onto his lap. Caging his hips with your thighs, his hard shaft pressed against you made you both moan into each other's mouth. He gave an involuntary buck, and you gasped at the feeling.

“Which way do you want me,” you asked.

Frankie groaned at the question, and in a swift move, he had you on your back, your legs high for full access.

“I want to look at your face, Rocket,” he murmured, rutting up against your opening. “See you come undone, and you can see what you do to me.” His hands ran down your chest, then his teeth grazed one of your nipples, raising it. He licked his hand and brought it between your legs, preparing your entrance for him. A finger entered slowly, and then he pressed another into you as you whined at the stretch of his thick fingers.

“Shhhhit, Frankie.”

“Rocket, you- fuck, you feel good.”

His fingers slid in and out, languid and purposeful, and your breath quickened. Frankie watched you as he lined himself up and slowly pressed into you. The stretch was exquisite but not painful. Frankie had made sure of that. But it’s his eyes that had your chest heaving, those dark chestnut eyes, the crinkle that is almost permanently etched between his brows, searching for your face, for discomfort, for whatever else he can offer you. Full seated, he rested his forehead on yours, grinding his hips slow and deliberate. The way he does everything. Thoughtfully, with purpose. When you pushed back and it was like you flipped a switch, he began to piston into you, deep, hard. His hands on the back of your knees hold you legs high, opening you completely, you held on for dear life. His open mouth on your shoulders and neck.

“Gods Frankie don’t stop-” you gasped as delicious friction pushed you closer and closer to your peak, at that moment he tipped your hips just a bit more and hit your walls at a different angle and the next thrust sent fireworks behind your eyelids, toppling you over the edge. Frankie felt you tighten around him, and the warmth of your release. He let go of your legs and caged your torso holding you in place, grounding you.

You knew he was getting closer, his rhythm became erratic, until the rubberband within snapped. Frankie fell forward, covering you, murmuring your name, your real one, peppering you with kisses.

Finally, your breathing slowed, your heart beating at a restful pace -

"So, um, whadoya wanna do for the sturgeon moon?"

Frankie's shoulders quaked with silent laughter, and he rolled off you and onto his side, though his strong arm kept you close, tucked into his chest.

"Whatever you want, Rocket."

*

You both lay sleeping, in the early hours. In the night Frankie had rolled over and you took over as "big spoon", your arm wrapped around his ribcage, legs tucked behind his.

"Rocket," he murmured, patting your arm, his voice rough from sleep, " Rocket, ten o'clock."

Your eyes opened, and you muttered the words back to him in confusion.

"At ten o'clock, Rocket. Look," he whispered with urgency.

His words clicked, and you looked up, away from "twelve o'clock" and saw a twelve point buck in the clearing, morning mist surrounding him.

Your arm tightened around him, and his warm hand that covered yours squeezed in return.

💚THANK YOU FOR READING💚REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED💚

If you care to read more of my Frankie stories or any of my writing you can find my masterlist here and if you would like to be tagged for any of my fics you can find my handy dandy taglist form here.

[thecursedprince]

To me, my creeproductions.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-• -•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

#monsterhigh #monsterhighhauntcouture #monsterhighdolls #dawnofthedance #monsterhighcollection #ghoul #ghouls #monster #draculaura #frankiestein #frankie #lagoonablue #cleodenile #cleo #clawdeenwolf #MonsterHighAlumni #lagoona #clawdeen #wearwolf #vampire #mummy #bat #frankenstein #ghouliayelps #toraleistripe #spectra #mattel #hauntcouture #spectravondergeist #abbeybominable