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#i'm so happy the pilot is out
canisbeanz · 6 months
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Silly doodle bc it was the first thing I thought of when I saw Pomni.
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sophsun1 · 6 months
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ckcomics · 2 months
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The City Imp & the Country Imp
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mikimeiko · 2 years
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Legion | Season 1 (2017)
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So uh... what are some animated indie stuff that you like to watch?
For me its satina, humans b gone, and the june archives (technically an arg but ehh)
LACKADAISY.
Yeah, it's just a pilot. I have to admit I don't watch a lot of indie animation (hard for me to get into new things; I was technically never in the Helluva fandom either, my friend just wrote a lot about it so I followed along the first season). But I've been a fan of this webcomic for the past few years, so latest pointless drama aside, I'll stick up for that one until my dying breath. It's a goddamn masterpiece, I'm super happy that the Backerkit has made two million, and I remain hyped as all hell for the first season.
I also simp really hard for one of the characters. Crushes tend to help me stick around.
I've watched the Satina pilot and the first episode, though it was a long while back. I think I enjoyed it. Has any more of it come out yet?
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pollyna · 2 years
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au: Iceman lives but he's still doing chemio, Mav and Slider have a kind of hate/hate/love relationship but when it comes to their mutual friend they pair up faster than you could ever believed. Oh, and Hondo is fuckin' smart, he follows Mav from job to job because he likes to go around and meet new people and have new challenges everytime, before he gets bored.
Warning for homophobic assholes, angst, slurs and not enough punching.
Sunny outside doesn't mean Maverick is happy. This fucking new place where they moved the base is always sunny and he would appreciate it if heat could give them a little breath because it's just the end of march and they already have to switch on the air conditioner and that made Tom get cold again. It's never a good day when his husband gets sick because of stupid stuff it could be avoided. Better yet, it is never going to be a good day until a cold won't degenerate into fever and long nights fighting sleep and nightmares.
He fucking misses Miramar, their favourite spot on the beach and the gentle old lady who used to spend the afternoon with Ice playing cards, watching stupid telenovelas and keeping him company when Maverick had to be elsewhere.
The new class isn't helping his mood either. The best of the best and a new brand of fucking assholes who doesn't listen to him, makes him want to punch everybody in the face and likes Cyclone a little too much for his, and Hondo's, taste. Hondo not liking an entire class says much, especially after three years of teaching at TOPGUN and the number of years the man himself spend working with many different kinds of people in every program the brass moved him to.
If on a normal and sunny day Maverick would have just let it slide and got back to them making the exercise just a little more difficult to complete, today he just can't, not again and not after what he heard while walking in his classroom. Skylab is the first voice he hears but Viking is the one who answers and the deafening silence from the others doesn't help. It hurts a bit when not even Empress, the only decent person and a very good pilot, says something.
The brass let a faggot like Kazansky win this stupid fucking price and then made him Admiral. Who knows how many favours he had to do just to enter the Navy.
Probably not as many he had to do all these years to save Captain Mavsshole. Probably he has AIDS and not even cancer but they are just too ashamed, to tell the truth, or everyone would ask too many questions.
Pete has to count until ten and then until a hundred and then another time until a hundred before taking another step. He knows all his seeing, and hearing, is just blind rage and it could make it worst, probably ending up in prison or in the hospital and then Ice should get up to fetch him and he isn't in the state to do anything, he shouldn't do anything if not get better. He counts from one hundred to zero a third time, takes a deep breath and thinks he can handle this without resulting in homicide and a dishonourable discharge from the Navy and leaving so much mess to clean to Carlos and David. He likes them and he likes having lunch with them. So no to punch because then his husband should come for him and he can't, no to kill or he's going to lose two friends but he can't act as if nothing happened. So he'll have to think about what to do and they're going to regret even letting their own brain think about something like that.
The punishment arrives in town under the shape of one Ron Slider Kerner who decided to come around to see his best friend and spent time making Maverick's week a complete hell. Or maybe not.
When he comes back home that same night Slider is already around, sitting on the couch, talking with Ice about something and someone who got married down in Cali and people Mav doesn't know. Tom looks a little better and just that makes the day a little less heavy, when they kiss hello he can feel his husband's hands around his face and their grip is stronger every day and that would have made his knees give up and cry a little because it was such a close call this time he almost can't still believe this man, four starts admiral Tom Iceman Kazansky, is still alive and fighting and kissing him when he comes back home. Then Slider cough and oh, oh man now he knows what to do and how to make that bunch of assholes pay. They're going to hell without moving a step and they're blissful unaware of what it's waiting for them.
He has to wait after dinner after Ice is in bed and Slider is tidying around because he lived with Ice too and took some of his husband freakish habit when it comes to have a spotless kitchen in a spotless house. So Slider, I have a favour to ask he announces once he's back in front of him and Slider's smirk is a very knowing one. And so the game begins.
Wednesday morning is a little cooler than Tuesday and Ice's cold seems a less intense. He takes Slider with him because he must see the new state of art place where he's working he says to Ice and his husband laughs and looks like he's sayin' I know something is going on, be careful babe. 
The class is already sitting in their usual spots, a pilot and their RIO every row, and they look at them walking in with the most confused expression ever. Oh, you don't have the slightest idea of what is going to happen now. 
Class this is Captain Ron Kerner, callsign Slider, he was Admiral Kazansky's RIO for most of their years in the air and he's going to teach you a couple of things this week. He worked around a little bit, after he stop flying, went to DC, decided to put his ass on a chair and then went back in combat with some very tough dudes who taught him a thing or two. He's here for a visit and, over dinner, I was thinking it would have been so nice to have him over to teach you something new. He was so happy to accept. 
Slider is subtle in what he does and how he does his work, he learned it following Ice around during his first years in his Admiral carrier and perfect the rest working on his own projects at the Pentagon and around DC. He takes the all class up in the sky at five am, makes them run miles every time their manoeuvres aren't exactly by the book, gives homework and books to read, checks their rooms and confiscated their alcohol and cigarettes, and takes them to the veteran home and forgets them there for a whole day because he has to take Ice to try the new ice cream place, then comes back at eight in the evening, makes them run again, questions them about politics and tactics and makes them running a little more. But the worst is the inactivity: after spending days moving around like the world is going to end the second next to this one, he makes them sit in class st five-thirty in the morning and makes them wait. For an hour, then two and then three. It's eight-thirty and Slider is strolling in the classroom looking like someone who had the best sleep and coffee in his life while every single student is dying to sleep, drink something other than water and, generally, their poor brains are begging do something. Good morning class, today we have a nine-hour lecture, so get ready to have your world shake and you're going to learn stuff you're never going to forget.
Almost ten hours later, a break of thirty minutes around midmorning and Slider smiles and announces, candied as the day his parents baptized him, that everything has a reason in this life and a day of lectures on the culture of queer people, slurs, AIDS and flying is the bare minimum they deserve and he's going to make sure no one's name is going to end of the plaque because they don't deserves such an honour, or any honor, when they can't give the basic respect to a human, let alone to one of their superiors. And yes, every single one of them is going to get back in flight school, even if it will cost Slider and Maverick all the favours they have to ask, and not isn't just because of the comment on Admiral Kazansky, that was only the last straw and yes Viking you can call the President of the United States for all I care.
It's Wednesday again, it's raining outside, Maverick is making pancakes for three people, he doesn't have to go to work because he doesn't have a new class for at least another month and a half, Slider is looking around as if he was the king of the world and Ice is trying really hard not to ask what his husband and best friend did. He's going to read a report, a couple of days later, very detailed about everything that happened but by then Slider will be back in DC and Maverick will be fussing about taking a walk and looking to adopt a cat and starting a new hobby that will get them out of the house every time they can.
For now, Tom enjoys the pace and some delicious pancake, while Mav and Slider finish forging a strange new alliance, signed over the promise of mutual help and no question asked when needed.
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charmfamily · 10 months
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(SEMI) CHARMED KIND OF LIFE: EPISODE 1, PART II. “AT LEAST IT’S NOT STILL ON FIRE”
Transcript Below.
[Prospero, Minerva's familiar, hops down from his perch on the windowsill to come inside. Once within earshot, where he knows his Caster can hear him, a trilling meow echoes through the dining room to get Minerva's attention.]
MINERVA: [muffled, not moving from her slump that has her face mashed against the surface of the now clean dining table.] I thought familiars were supposed to be able to precognitively sense and forewarn of impending doom; where the hell were you all night?
PROSPERO: [The ensuing chuckle at her question is quite sly, almost a little devious in its quality.] Was I summoned? ... No? Then my whereabouts remain, as always, Caster, none of your business. Besides that – being able to sense impending doom doesn't mean I can stop you from causing it, for future reference.
MINERVA: [She scowls at her familiar's retort, begrudgingly hoisting herself from her hunched position while Prospero begins nonchalantly yet smugly cleaning his face.] I concede that I may have said some things I oughtn't – No, I said exactly what needed to be said, the delivery could have been more gentle, I suppose – but I am not the bad guy here.
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maxwell-grant · 2 years
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“GRREAT NEWS: We've FINALLY secured a Human Studio to record what will soon be The Grim Screen's very FIRST commercial!
LESS THAN GRREAT NEWS: We used too much green paint and mixed it with magic. The whole studio's dissappeared into thin air. So, it should take a while for us to find it and get anything done. Worry not! We’ve dealt with worse problems caused by us before, it should be resolved in haste!
DM ME if you’re a video editor unafraid of no ghost with a working computer and very, very short-term memory. 
This should take care of the problem in the meanwhile. I’ll leave it there for the humans once they get back.”
-Seymour Ghastly, boss and producer of The Grim Screen
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.....
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inkskinned · 9 months
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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marshmellowtea · 10 months
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I don’t know what severance is but I read the fic anyway and it’s so cute it left me half regressed I loved it so much 😭😭 whoever mark s and Devon are. I love them. Thank you much for writing this, I’m going to save it for future reading again 💗💗 I very much relate to mark, thunder sucks when you’re small 😢 but Devon is so sweet to him!! What a good cg!!! Love this fic.
sorry for the slightly late reply but omg this is so sweet thank you so much??? i'm really glad you enjoyed it even though you don't know anything about the show or the characters (though if you get a chance i do recommend checking it out ofc, it's really good!), it makes me happy to know i wrote something that was emotionally effective even without knowing the source material :') tysm for this ask i can't overstate how happy it made me when i first saw ghdslkfjd reading again it rn has me happy stimming and smiling like an idiot 💞💞💞
#and ye devon IS a good cg :') in the show she has several moments where i was like oh yeah. she'd be good at taking care of a little#even someone on reddit who (presumably at least) isn't agere minded like me pointed out that she's a caretaker type#mark is her brother and there are multiple scenes particularly in the pilot where she's looking after him in a way that just makes me go !!#like. in my heart that is her BABY BROTHER and i can very much see them having an agere dynamic#(allegedly he's supposed to be the older one which i do NOT see but i digress lmao)#(doesn't matter either way i have no qualms with older siblings being the regressor and their younger siblings being the caregivers#as evidenced by my succession fics but this is about Vibes okay mark has younger brother energy and i'll take that hc to the grave. anyway)#though the version of mark in the fic is a little different than quote unquote 'her' mark (the show's premise is about people splitting#themselves into two selves though that's a bit oversimplifying it lol) but i can see that not mattering to her#that's still her brother#a version of her brother who's. been through some very traumatic experiences and who's also only been alive a couple years (once again make#sense in show ghlkdsjf but it only fuels my baby mark agenda ok) so i can see her being protective over him even if he's slightly different#from the mark she's used to#.....sorry i started infodumping AHKLJGFDS i'm just. very soft about these two they're so sweet ;_;#anyway thank you for a third time for this seeing this made me so happy WAUGH#marshy gets asks#anonymous
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sensitivegoblin · 10 months
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Ramble vent
I'll probably post more cus I don't have anywhere else to go so either be careful reading or just skip it all together
#I hate feeling sad 24/7 and faking happy for everyone else#I'm so lonely.#I hate feelings I'm tired of having such strong painful feelings#what is wrong with me that my brain won't stop thinking it's a whole thing on it's own#and it sucks so much energy out of me#I can't focus on anything I spent 4 hours trying to find something to watch#everytime I just ended up zoning out as my body continued without me#on the outside it looks like I'm crocheting and in the moment but that's not even me#it's an auto pilot I dunno where it came from#I can't focus on anything and I'm so lonely#my sister is only a year older than me and shes been with her BF for 9 yrs....and before that she's had boyfriends#I'm 24 and I've never had anything but a bunch of failed attempts and people taking advantage of me#it sucks cus I'm SUCH a romantic I learned from the movies as a kid#thats honestly not my only or main problem my mental health is just spiraling so everything is coming out jumbled#the only thing to get me even a bit focused is like super scary or disturbing videos and honestly I'm not in the headspace for them#so I end up spending all night just running from my brain and scarring myself to death#I can't talk to my dad or my sister and when I tell them that it's some version of 'well then try to look/act happier then'#....#I feel like everyone is constantly stepping on me and I'm not allowed to do anything#both of them forget im autistic so easily#I know that NOBODY asked for an autistic sibling/daughter but on the suffering scale when it comes to that dont I win??? since im the one wh#who has it?????#because of some tiktoks she was like 'you dont think im autistic do you?' and then she went on a thing how that would suck cus she didn't ge#get anything I had#I had those therapies I was diagnosed autistic because it was SEVERE#my life fckin sucked I hate how she hints that my life was eaiser cus of certain things like school#im feeling a throw up of emotions like Im not gonna throw up but emotionally it feels like that#im just trying not to cry cus my sister will try to help and she really can't other than say 'sorry' and tell me to drink water#I keep whiplashing between a super active brain and a dead one#I hate feeling numb but I want the dead one im tired of my brain
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jaeger-tech · 5 months
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Pacific Rim Dashboard Simulator
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🙇‍♀️ alphamycherno Follow
i don't know about this "let's build a wall" thing like. where's the sexiness? the vibes? what's the point of war if we don't even have hot people in big fuckass robots anymore
🎴 coyote-t Follow
there are so many legitimate, important reasons to protest the wall of life, but whatever it takes i guess. sure. it's not fuckable enough
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🐉 exxxtraterrestrial Follow
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happy kaiju blue monday!!
#happy kaiju blue monday
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🦅 ppdc-confessions
Anonymous asked:
I'm a janitor at the HK shatterdome and certain two german scientists should either fuck or finally kill each other at this point, I don't care. They're always in the lab no matter the time of day so I can't avoid them and so they try to get me (the janitor) to choose sides in their domestics!! I refuse to step in that lab again and involve myself in whatever the fuck they've got going on. They'll just have to clean that shit themselves
#this is the third confession about these scientists this week are you guys okay
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🍱 scissure
are we forgetting that PPDC is literally military like you people are not immune to propaganda
☠ buena-guy Follow
You are right. The kaiju are here to bring us to justice, there's no sense in fighting them. If you also feel like this, you can find out more on my blog ❤
🍱 scissure
SILENCE, CULTIST
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💃 shatterdo-me Follow
what if we kissed in the drift 🥺👉👈 and we were both girls 😳
#ok but for real what do you mean i have to go get into the MILITARY to become a JAEGER PILOT if i want to find my SOULMATE this is so fucked up #release the tech #for the gays
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aromanticbuck · 13 days
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AITA for coming out at my sister's wedding?
I (32M) recently realized I'm bisexual and I have my first bf (45M), he's a rescue helicopter pilot (this will be relevant later). I'm out to my sister (41F) and my coworkers, including her husband, who I have worked with for years, but not to my parents or most of the other guests. Everyone has joked that I'm a little too close to my best friend (32M), and we might as well get married, but he's straight and has a gf. They're not relevant to this story, but to give context to how much my sexuality probably shouldn't be a surprise, even if it took me by surprise.
I told my sister and her husband I was bringing a plus one, and they both knew my bf, they were supportive of it because he makes me really happy.
Everything kind of started at the bachelor party. It was just me, my brother-in-law, and my best friend, and we did the usual stuff. We stayed a night in a hotel, went out to get drunk, sang some karaoke at our usual spot. It should have been a super chill night. Until my best friend and I lost the groom??? But it way more stressful than The Hangover makes it look.
He'd been taken by these guys who tried to kill him (no, I don't know why) and we didn't realize he was missing until less than an hour before the wedding. My mom kind of threw a fit about us being late, and then blamed me for losing the groom, which is kind of a normal reaction from her. My dad didn't yell as much but again, this is a normal reaction, I'm kind of the disappointment child. Basically, we had to find my brother-in-law because he still needed to marry my sister.
Before anyone worries: they did get married. He's fine. The hospital says they're discharging him tomorrow to go home. They're gonna reschedule their honeymoon so he's well enough to enjoy it.
Long story short, it turned into a rescue mission, and driving would have taken too long, and my best friend suggested we ask my bf to borrow his helicopter again (long story, but we had to borrow him for something a few months ago, it's how we met!) so I asked him for the favor. My mom asked who he was, since my best friend just used his name, and I told her he's my boyfriend, and she freaked out about it.
When we go to the hospital with my brother-in-law, my parents both yelled at and scolded me for taking attention away from the biggest day of my sister's life by pulling some "stunt" with my bf (to SAVE my brother-in-law from being violently murdered), and I think my dad somehow grounded me?
AITA?
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cryinhell · 7 months
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Okay, because I'm crazy I'm going to take discuss my favorite parts of new the new teaser
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First off, Husk and Alastor, I'm so excited for their interactions. They both look amazing! And you can just tell their dynamic from the pilot has traveled over to the series. Can't wait to see them being friends and also Al annoying the shit out of Husk.
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My baby boy is so beautiful. I'm so weirdly excited to see him dance, but I'm also kind of scared he will be hurt after this scene. I can't wait to hear who his new voice actor is cause I'm sure he does great!
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Alastor doing the thing
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Baby Charlie! She's so cute! Also I'm so excited to meet Lucifer and Lilith! It looks like Lucifer is going to have a musical number and I can't wait
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Okay, this is really interesting. The overlords meeting to discuss the angels? With the x mark over the angel, it seems like they are planning a revolt of some kind. Of course, they would want to since they are tired of being killed off. This plot point is really cool, and I can't wait to see more of it.
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The way I screamed. They are dancing together in a musical number like omg that's so darn cute. Husk being a romantic would be a huge plot twist, haha, but this was just so cute and I really hope these two dummies are canon
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Can't wait to meet Vox and see his evil little schemes. Plus, his rivalry with Alastor looks hilarious, and I am all for it.
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Group selfie!!! I love how Charlie and Niffty looks so happy and the guys just are unimpressed.
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*screams*
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And lastly, these two at the end of the trailer. I love Angel being a lovable asshole and I hope his relationship with Charlie flourishes into an awesome friendship. I'm so excited for this show, and it looks incredible.
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Always a bit puzzled by people saying that anyone who wanted long-term consequences for TotK Zelda's sacrifice are "edgy".
I'm not even particularly in the camp that she should have remained a dragon forever (I think this should have been Ganondorf's fate, it would have been sooo much more impactful than to explode him and move on but anyway). To be honest, I wish the rules for turning back would have been 1) clear 2) active gameplay on the player so that it feels like it's something we have earned, and 3) not make her have amnesia about it and/or at least having her gain some crucial insight because of the experience.
(also: doesn't she crave knowledge? isn't that insanely mean to have her watch over every civilization and every bit of history ever and then take it away from her? kind of dislike how totk privileges the comfort of the player's feelings over what the characters would actually want or need tbh)
To be perfectly honest, I fully expected us needing to turn her back before engaging Ganondorf so we would fight him together, especially since Zelda as a compagnon exists in the game code already (though in a very subdued state). It feels very very strange to me that all of this mechanic of Sages following us existing and yet we never have the very climactic cool Zelda-staple moment of facing Ganondorf or Ganon together (OoT, WW, TP, ST and probably more that I'm forgetting all did this in some way --even BotW had Zelda more involved than in TotK). I'm not sure Mineru was a compagnon that was needed over Zelda honestly, especially given the kind of non-insight she gives us on the zonai (even if the idea of the mecha is cool, it really could have been Zelda using her zonai + sheikah knowledge to pilot one for us or something).
But anyway: yeah, even if this isn't what I would have wanted personally, I think wanting Zelda to remain a dragon is kind of arguably more respectful of her relationship to Link, in a way, that what the game ended up doing. When she enacted this sacrifice, Zelda decided to trust him to such a extent that she lost herself, reciprocated his trust in her and his devotion to her, and now the future of Hyrule exists beyond her and beyond what Hyrule once was, but she trusts them to follow through and be happy and she will watch over them from the stars moving on. It's fine if we manage to save her from that fate, but even if we don't, honestly this sounds like a beautiful story/tragic romance to me, if you want to read it that way. Tragedy doesn't necesserily involve edginess. Fictional pain isn't always mean, or out to get you.
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fettuccin-e · 3 months
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Flying to New Heights
Summary: A flight delay means you're spending your night at the hotel bar, praying for sleep to come to you. Instead, a certain Captain Francisco Morales shows up, tall and broad and far too tempting. With undeniable attraction burning between you, you can't help the way you fall right into his arms.
A/N: Alright! I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Life has gotten a tad crazy, but the Frankie thirst never stops okay? And this AU has been buzzing in my head for a little while now, so I just needed to get it out there. I hope y'all enjoy the porn. (dividers are by the lovely @saradika-graphics!)
Tags: Frankie Morales x Reader, Commercial Pilot!Frankie, Flight attendant!reader, afab!fem!reader, alcohol consumption but barely, this is essentially an excuse for porn so, oral and fingering(r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up I'm begging you), Francisco Morales and his dirty mouth have struck again (w/c: 4.2K)
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You love your job, you really do. Deciding to actually train to be a flight attendant was one of the best decisions of your life. Gone were the days of short-lived stints in retail, and you’ve never been happier for it.
You’ve lived the attendant life for a few years now, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’ve met some of your best friends through this job, seen some of the most beautiful places in the world, met celebrities on their way to new production locations and concert venues. 
It’s the dream, you tell your family, during the rare moments you actually get to visit them. And it is. The perks far outweigh the cons in your profession, and you’re happy to be where you are.
That’s not to say there aren’t any cons though.
There are always rude flyers, unruly children, issues with luggage. The turbulence is never much fun, nor are the months spent without being able to go home at all.
There are always nights like tonight, where the rain made the flight arrive later than expected, and you’ve got another flight scheduled for the morning. Between jetlag and the copious amounts of airline coffee you’ve imbibed to remain bright and chipper over an eight hour flight overseas, there’s no way you’ll get more than five hours of sleep before you have to clock in again.
A nightcap in the hotel bar seemed just the thing to cool off. You haven’t even taken your uniform off, the thick fabric stretching across your skin, your legs exposed to the cool air as you sip on your drink. The alcohol burns a bit in the back of your throat, but you take comfort in it, trying to lean into the calming warmth it creates in your stomach.
“Can’t sleep?”
The unexpected voice rips you from your reverie, and fuck, what a wake up call. The voice is deep, a pretty rasp edging into the ends of his words, the warmth of his tone making you far warmer than the alcohol in your glass ever could.
Captain Francisco Morales. Even his name has heat swimming in your stomach, and you wish you had just gone to bed like a normal person instead of drinking at the hotel bar at midnight. 
You can’t decide if the pilot is a perk or a con of the job, only knowing that he seems to pilot most of your flights, and is a fucking distraction during every single one of them. With his big broad shoulders and patchy beard, the crinkles around his eyes when he smiles and his insistence that you call him Frankie, not Captain Morales. 
The whole “flight attendants fucking pilots” trope never really applied to you until you met Frankie. You’ve made it a point not to hit on him, no matter how much you desperately want to. It would be far too stereotypical, and with how fucking nice Frankie is, you’d feel like you’d be taking advantage of him. So you’ve kept your distance, talking to him kindly, trying to cross your legs discreetly when he flexes his damn hands on the plane controls, and doing your job like a normal person.
But as he crosses into your line of vision, sitting in the barstool directly next to you, you’re struck with the realization that you’re in unknown territory. There’s no distracting yourself here with other passengers, or your fellow flight attendants. You can’t excuse yourself to an airplane bathroom to splash cold water on your face and yell at yourself to get it together. No, Frankie is right in front of you, ordering a whiskey neat from the bored-looking bartender, and smiling at you so fucking prettily with those big brown eyes and big hands and oh god you’re not going to survive-
“Nah, the jet-lag is really getting to me this time,” you say casually, your voice working on its own accord. At least you aren’t staring at him dopily like some kind of imbecile.
He chuckles. “Same here. Flight go okay?”
“You got us here, didn’t you, Captain? I’d say that’s a success.”
“Then let’s hope I’m always successful,” he winks, and it takes effort to breathe normally. You giggle, and he smiles at you again, his eyes crinkling up.
“You have a flight tomorrow?” he asks, sipping at his drink. 
“Yeah, unfortunately," you sigh. "10:00AM, which is making the whole ‘no sleeping thing’ even worse. Y’know, it’s really the airline’s fault if I collapse on a passenger." You grin at him, and he laughs.
“Oh, they should be so lucky,” he chuckles, and you could swear that you see just a flicker of heat in his eyes. A heat that turns into a raging inferno inside of you, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your toes. 
“How about you, Captain? Flying again tomorrow?” You need to keep your mind out of the fucking gutter, not that he makes it very easy.
“Yup. They’ve got me in the air at 8:00AM.”
“Oh man, and you’re listening to me complain about my 10:00AM?”
“Work is work, sweetheart,” he smiles at you, and you want to collapse into him at that very moment. Sweetheart. Coming from anyone else, it would sound smarmy, like a pick up line, but from Frankie, it just sounds warm and comforting. You want to be his sweetheart. “We’re all allowed to complain. We aren’t in any kind of competition.”
He sips his whiskey, his eyes feeling like they’re boring into your fucking soul. “And either way, we’re both in the same bar, at midnight, sleep nowhere in sight. We’re pretty much in the same boat.”
“If you say so, Captain,” you say, your body positively burning under his gaze. You hope that you can blame it on the alcohol.
He raises an eyebrow, “I thought I told you to call me Frankie, sweetheart.”
“Frankie, sorry.”
“No need to be sorry,” he says, taking another sip. You try to not watch his throat work as he swallows. You fail. “Think you just need more practice,” he mumbles into his drink, so soft you almost miss it.
“Practice?” you blurt, mind too distracted to think of an intelligent response.
“Practice saying my name.”
A laugh startles out of your mouth. “I have no idea how I’d practice that, Frankie.”
He hums, pretending to think. “I have a few ideas,” he murmurs, and fuck, you definitely aren’t imagining the heat in his eyes now. It’s blazing into you, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between them, hoping that Frankie doesn’t notice. Or maybe you hope he does, as you watch those thick fingers wrap around his glass.
Fuck it. He’s hot, you’re horny, and God, you can’t take much more of this. “I’d love to hear all about them, Frankie,” you say, adding a little rasp to your voice that you hope sounds sexy.
Frankie chuckles, but it doesn’t sound like he’s making fun of you. No, he sounds surprised, like he can’t believe you’re flirting back at him. Confidence swims in your chest as red colors his cheeks. You gaze up into those warm, brown eyes of his, and fuck, he’s so pretty up close like this.
“You sure about that, hermosa?”
You don’t break eye contact with him, and his deep gaze burns into yours. “Positive,” you breathe, and Frankie’s smirk is absolutely devastating.
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Captain Francisco Morales doesn’t do this often. No, he doesn’t do this ever. Fucking between flights is supposed to be a perk of being a pilot, but it’s a “perk” he rarely utilizes. One night stands have never really suited him; he gets attached far too easily, and with his job, he can never stick around for long.
But god you’re pretty. And you’re licking hotly into his mouth, and whining in the back of your throat like you’re fucking desperate for it.
He couldn’t help himself when he saw you, still in your little uniform skirt, nursing a drink at the hotel bar. He couldn’t help himself when he struck up a conversation with you, wanting to see your pretty smile and soft laugh that he only ever hears mid-flight. And damn it, he sure as hell can’t help himself from pressing you up against the wall of the hotel elevator, pressing one of his thighs between yours while your fingers curl into his hair and his arms wrap around your waist.
You wiggle down onto his thick thigh, and it creates the most perfect pressure on your clit. You whimper against Frankie’s mouth, and he groans with you, pulling you flush against him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, and his voice is deep and gravelly, breathless from your fevered kisses. “I, uh, I don’t usually do this kind of thing.” His cheeks burn, but he doesn’t back away, just leans his forehead against yours and tries to catch his breath.
It isn’t a surprise, his confession. You’ve heard stories about every other pilot, about their conquests with flight attendants, or how someone saw one of them take their wedding band off when they got to their hotel. There are stories upon stories about every pilot you’ve flown with, except Frankie. And it’s intoxicating, knowing that he wants you enough to have you like this. 
“Good. Me neither,” you whisper, and Frankie grins again. That boyish, devastating grin, and fuck, your clit is throbbing so hard that you could cum like this. You could cum, right in this elevator, Frankie’s thigh between yours and his tongue in your mouth, fuck-
The elevator dings, signaling your arrival to your floor, and Frankie jumps away from you as the doors slide open. You don’t take it personally, not when you’re instinctually tugging your rumpled skirt down. You glance up, and Frankie is already staring down at you, gaze blazing as he braces a hand against the elevator door, holding it open for you. 
“Where’s your room?” he asks, and the question is casual, but his voice certainly isn’t. There’s promise in it, and you have to make sure your knees don’t buckle. 
“Why don’t I show you?” you say, stepping toward him to press your bodies together. Frankie doesn’t answer, he only cups a hand under your jaw, dragging your face up for a sticky kiss. It’s so much better than a yes.
He breaks the kiss far too soon, but one of his hands makes its way down to your ass, squeezing the fat of it through your skirt. “Lead the way, princesa,” he grumbles, and how could you ever think to refuse him?
Maybe you’re a little too eager in your walk to your room, but Frankie doesn’t seem to fare much better. No, he’s just as desperate as you are, with the way he presses you against the door of your room the moment you close it. With the way he swiftly kisses down your neck, sucking your skin between his teeth as he unbuttons your blazer, shoving the fabric down your arms. The buttons of your white undershirt follow, and you keen as he sucks maddeningly at your pulse point, his mustache scratching at the sensitive skin of your neck.
As soon as you’re divested of your shirt, Frankie’s moving again, kissing his way down your chest. He drags his teeth against the soft skin of your breasts, and you dig your hands into his hair. 
“Fuck, baby, you’ve got the prettiest tits,” he murmurs against your skin. It doesn’t sound like a line, no, it sounds like a prayer. 
“Frankie, please,” you breathe.
He looks up at you from his position at your chest. “What, gorgeous?” he asks, coy, as if he doesn’t know what you want. What you desperately need. 
“Please, just,” you use your grip in his hair to drag him back up to your mouth, and he goes willingly, groaning softly as his tongue meets yours again. “Please fuck me, Frankie,” you whisper, and Frankie groans like he’s dying.
“Take- take your clothes off, baby,” he mutters, and it sounds more like he’s begging than he’s commanding. “Take your clothes off, and get on the bed.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
You have to make sure you don’t trip on your way to the bed as you kick off your heels. You tug your skirt and nylons down your thighs, making sure to wiggle your ass a bit more than normal as you bend over to tug them the rest of the way down your legs. You smirk at Frankie’s soft groan behind you.
The air of the hotel room is slightly cold, but as soon as you kneel on the bed, arching your back in a shameless display of your desperation, Frankie is burning hot above you, and you can’t feel the cold at all. Frankie’s thick, calloused hands palm your ass, and you moan as he spreads you apart, staring unabashedly at your aching cunt.
“Can I eat your pussy, baby?” he grumbles from behind you, and the fact that he’s asking permission to eat you out is making you so much hotter, making you clench around nothing. 
“Yes, yes, Frankie, oh please-” you whine, and Frankie barely lets you finish your sentence before he’s dragging his tongue in a long stripe up your dripping pussy. “Fuck, Frankie,” you groan, and he moans into you, sounding like he’s enjoying eating you out just as much as you are. 
His nose drags maddeningly through your folds as he brings his lips down to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it in circles that send pure pleasure sparking endlessly up your spine. You arch your back into it, pressing yourself into his mouth, and Frankie groans again. The vibrations of it against your clit make you jerk wildly, whining high as you clutch desperate fingers into the pristine white sheets of the bed.
Frankie tries to keep you still with one of his big hands pressing into the small of your back. His other hand makes its way to your pussy, and you don’t even realize, not when he’s licking into you so feverishly, until there’s a thick finger pressing into your achy entrance.
“Frankie, oh my god-” you gasp wetly, his finger so much thicker than one of your own. It’s been so long, too long, since you’ve had the touch of anything other than yourself. Your tiny, traveling bullet vibrator doesn’t feel like this. You can’t stretch yourself like this, you can’t drive yourself wild like he can.
He moves his finger around inside you, searching, searching, while he licks softly at your clit. “Where is it, baby?” he mutters against you, and you have to force your brain to work at least a little bit to decipher whatever the fuck he means.
His finger is still searching, stroking against your slick inner walls, and you can barely gasp out a, “up, up,” before he’s finally touching that sweet spot deep inside you. You can’t hide it when he does, gasping out a high pitched moan as pleasure rockets up your body.
“There it is, sweetheart,” he says, “good girl.”
And fuck, how do you hold yourself together when he says things like that. He licks again at your clit, but plays with that spongy spot inside you, abusing it. You’re so slick and hot, it doesn’t take long before he’s pressing a second finger into you, then a third. And his fingers are so fucking thick, breaking you apart and pressing into that wonderful spot inside you. Your vision is blurring at the edges as he plays with you like a practiced instrument. How is he so good at this? Your body barely feels like it’s your own, just Frankie’s; his to play with, his to fuck. God, he’s ruining you. It’s never been this good.
“Frankie, Frankie-” you whimper his name like a prayer, and his fingers move fast into you, jackhammering you into the mattress. You whine as he breaks his mouth from your clit, but he keeps his fingers pressed deep inside of you as he leans over your trembling body. 
“C’mon baby, c’mon baby,” he mutters, moving his fingers inside you so roughly that you could swear he’s trying to break you in two. “What do you need, sweetheart? What do you need to cum all over my fingers, huh?”
“Just keep-” you gasp between shuddering moans. “Just keep talking to me, fuck, please-”
“Talk about what, gorgeous? Talk about how hard I am for you right now? How hard you always make me?” You whine at his words, and you can feel his smirk against the skin of your shoulder. His fingers move into you even harder, if that’s even possible. “Fuck, princesa, you have to know how fucking sexy you are. Make me so fucking hard whenever we fly together. Fuck, watched you bend over to pick up your bag once, right in front of me. Had to fuckin’ jerk my cock as soon as we got back to the hotel. Can’t help it around you baby.”
You feel like you’re underwater. Frankie’s voice is deep and dark in your ear, and your pussy is so fucking sensitive. You can feel your orgasm burning relentlessly in your stomach. Just a little more, just a little-
“Thought about taking you to the back of the plane, mid flight. Thought about fucking you hard, stuffing this pretty pussy, making you go back out to work with my cum dripping down your thighs. You want that, sweet girl? Fuck you’re so pretty, so pretty baby, you’ve gotta cum. Please, please let me fuck this pussy. Be my good girl, cum all over my hand.”
You don’t think he means it like a command, but you follow it anyway. You moan, throaty and wet, into the sheets as your cunt clenches around Frankie’s fingers, hips twitching as he presses reassuring kisses to your shoulder. You turn your head blindly, and he leans forward to meet your lips in a bruising kiss, his fingers buried deep inside as you gush all over his hand.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you whisper against his lips, repeating it like a mantra, and Frankie whimpers, needy and so hot that it makes you want to cry.
“Okay, baby, okay, I’ve got you,” he says, and you know he does. 
When Frankie presses the blunt tip of his cock against the opening of your sensitive pussy, you both groan. You push your hips back just as he pushes his hips forward, and the tip of his cock is just as big as the rest of him. Which, of course, means fucking massive. You have to breathe through the stretch of him inside you as he sinks deep, deeper, deeper. 
“Doing so fucking good, sweetheart. Jesus fuck- ah- so fucking tight baby- fucking beautiful- oh fuck-” Frankie mutters, sounding just as overwhelmed as you feel. It feels like forever until he bottoms out, his hips pressed against your ass as he hunches over you, hot and big and all man. It’s a dream that you’ve had before, but the reality is so much better than anything you could have ever imagined.
“So- you’re so big, Frankie,” you whimper, and Frankie groans behind you. “Need you to fuck me, wanna feel it tomorrow, please, please-” and he does. He pulls his hips back, just to shove himself back in, and the drag of his fat cock against that spot he found earlier has tears springing unbidden to your eyes. 
“Yes! Oh my god, like that, just like that-” you’ve never talked this much before during sex. But his unyielding thrusts, deep, deep inside, have you babbling wildly.
“Christ, you can’t talk like that, princesa, gonna make me blow my fucking load-”
“Want it, fuck Frankie, want you dripping down my fucking thighs, wanna gape open after you fuck me, oh god-”
Frankie fucks in harder, and it’s like every thought you’ve ever had flies out of you. His chest and stomach press into your back as he holds you still, thrusting desperately into you, harder and harder.
The bed is creaking, a rhythmic squeak that mixes in with the endless sounds of your keening whines and Frankie’s moans, and the obscene squelching of your pussy around Frankie’s cock. Your wetness drips down your thighs as Frankie bullies his way inside. He’s hitting that beautiful spot inside you, so perfectly, so overwhelmingly perfect, and fuck, tears are dripping down your face as you clutch onto a pillow, only able to squeak out pitiful whines of “Frankie, Frankie,” as he destroys you.
“So fucking gorgeous for me, god, bebita, fuckin’- fucking tight, fucking strangling me. Been too long, honey? Too long since you got fucked like you deserve?” Frankie growls into your ear, fucking you like a god damn animal.
Frankie’s lost control above you, which he just doesn’t do. He’s always in control, always, he has to be in this profession. But it’s like you’ve stripped him bare, literally and figuratively, to the most primal parts of himself. You’re so fucking hot and wet and tight around him, whining and throwing yourself back on his cock like it’s the best you’ve ever had, and he’s losing it. Losing it far too quickly, and he’s going to cum far too quickly.
“C’mon, baby, give me another one,” he groans, “squeeze my cock with this perfect fuckin’ pussy, wanna, wanna feel it.”
“Touch my clit- oh please, please, Frankie, ah- ah” and he does, the moment the words leave your lips. He reaches underneath the both of you, not breaking the rhythm of his hips driving into yours, and rubs two of those thick, calloused fingers against your throbbing clit.
“Fuck- yes, just like that, just like that, oh my god.” You’re slurring your words, so stupidly drunk on the feeling of his cock filling you over and over, of his body radiating heat above you.
“Gonna take care of you hermosa, make you cum like you deserve, so fuckin’ beautiful crying on my cock,” Frankie says, rubbing your clit hard and methodical. “Never gonna get enough of you baby. Gonna fuck you in every hotel we ever get, fuck you at the terminal, fuck this pussy in the god damn cockpit, oh shit-”
And you’re screaming, outright screaming into the sheets as the thread in your stomach snaps, your pussy clenching and gushing all over Frankie’s giant cock. He’s still mumbling into the cook of your neck, mindless mumbles about how pretty you are, how perfect, as you tremble through the most powerful orgasm of your fucking life. It’s devastating, it breaks you apart and puts you back together all at once, and you just have to trust Frankie to hold you together in his strong arms.
“Where do you want it, huh baby? Please, please, you’ve gotta tell me, oh shit-” Frankie whimpers, and it’s a damned good thing you still have enough brain cells to understand what he means.
“Inside, inside, 'm on the pill, please, please fill me up.” It’s fucking risky that you both didn’t even think about a condom, but with a man like Frankie, it’s hard to think about anything.
His hips still, his cock pressed inside so deep that it feels like he could be in your lungs, as he fills your pussy with his cum. He bites harshly into your shoulder, but it doesn’t fully muffle his whimpers as he crashes through his orgasm. Your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could bottle those sounds and listen to them forever.
Your knees slide out from under you, leaving you laying flat on your stomach, and Frankie follows, holding himself against you as you wait for your breathing to slow. 
“That was…” you whisper into the quiet.
“Fucking amazing.”
You can’t suppress your giggle. “Took the words right out of my mouth, Frankie.”
He tucks his face into the crook of your shoulder, and you can feel his pretty smile, before he’s lifting himself off of you, and you realize how cold you are without his heat.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, and you can’t bring yourself to do anything more than nod. Frankie rushes quickly into the en suite bathroom, and you can hear the sink running for a moment, before he comes back. A warm, wet rag makes its way down your back, over the curve of your ass, and between your legs. He’s ridiculously gentle as he wipes you down, and it’s wonderful. 
Once Frankie deems you clean again, he climbs into bed next to you. He wraps his arms around your placid body, tugging you close. “Didn’t take you for a cuddler, Frankie,” you murmur, but you only snuggle closer, relishing in his deep chuckle.
“I’m usually not.”
“You don’t do this often, though?” you say, dragging a finger down his chest, your eyes already fluttering shut.
You feel Frankie’s lips press to your forehead as he murmurs, “I think I’m willing to let this,” he hugs you against him softly, “become a new habit.”
You smile, and you lean up to kiss him gently. “I wouldn’t mind that at all.”
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