The Margay (Frankie Morales/Sniper!OFC, POC OFC, no age gap) (COMPLETE)
Rating: Explicit 18+ / Minors DNI
Series Summary: Santiago recruits Frankie to contract for a covert government agency that pairs them with danger in more ways than one. Two frayed things toe the line between the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. And maybe, just maybe, they make it out alive. A series of one-shot snippets taking place during and around missions.
You Brought Me Poison Flowers (Joel Miller/Herbalist!OFC, POC OFC, age-appropriate age gap) (on hiatus)
Rating: Explicit 18+ / Minors DNI
Series Summary: Joel and Ellie settle into life in Jackson, one more easily than the other, until Joel is reminded of what normal feels like. A series of one-shot glimpses into a relationship (no real plot here, people.) Soft!Joel. Two touch-starved babes. Slow-ish burn. WIP - Undetermined amount of chapters.
Misc. Other Works
Talk Refined - Ezra x f!Reader
Orpheus and Eurydice. A Blacksmith and a Warrior. A Lawyer and the Lady He Meets at a Bar. Two souls fated to find each other across lifetimes. Here are just a few of those stories.
Woodsmoke - Frankie Morales x gn!Reader
Life has been running you ragged lately, but someone is waiting for you when you get home. For a moment, you don't have to be strong. Content warnings: Mentions of difficult family life, attending therapy, absent parents, wounded inner child, loneliness as a general theme.
Old chapters are hosted on the OFFS Library page. New chapters will be posted here to Ohforficsake.
Shoot me a message or comment under this post if you would like to be added to the taglist for anything herein! Thanks so much for reading.
want his load inside of me … want him to kiss my neck as he moans about how much he loves me all while he is balls deep … need him to cradle my face with one hand as he comes again …………
Y’all I know we’re all melting down over the photos, I am too, but PLEASE don’t overlook the article!!!! It’s such a beautiful portrait of him as a human being and an artist, please read it! I desperately want to encourage more reporters to engage with him this way instead of talking about how he’s a sex symbol PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read it!
At 50, Pedro Pascal has made his way to the top of every director’s wish list while also becoming a sex symbol. A funny, sad, honest talk wi
“He doesn’t take himself too seriously. At the same time, he’ll press right up against the sad and raw and confusing parts of being alive. His insides are on his outsides. He cries easily. He laughs loudly.”
STAY SAFE!! [ID: the Gilbert Baker pride flag with the words “Happy pride to all those who are unable to celebrate openly and safely. You are loved and seen!” in all-caps black text over it. /end ID]
Warnings: no outbreak au. Sarah lives! (that's not really a warning) angst. fluff. mentions of oral sex. mentions of sex. reader is middle-aged. reader is female.
A/N: @maggiemayhemnj, please accept a drabble featuring your husband, Joel Miller, and middle-aged female reader. I am having a hard time dealing with season 2 and this is my preferred coping mechanism. Soft, happy, no-outbreak Joel. This is the same Joel and reader from through and fills in some of the time before she moves in. For those of you who haven't read "through," this can be read as a stand alone.
dividers by @thecutestgrotto
Joel began creating his case the moment after you kissed in the kitchen. He would silently rehearse it in his head as he did the dishes at his place, occasionally muttering to himself.
“Plenty of room.”
“Could turn the library into a studio.”
“There’s a piano.”
“What’s that, Dad?”
Startled, Joel would drop the dish he was holding back into the sink at the sound of Sarah’s voice. “Nothing. Nothing.” He’d shake his head like a dog shaking off water and go back to the dishes, looking out the window and longing for a future he couldn’t quite visualize. Yet.
Sarah would look at his back before shaking her head. “You’re not old enough to lose your mind, Dad. I still need help with my physics homework.”
Joel would bark out a nervous laugh and go back to his unwritten script.
Joel was rehearsing every time he knocked on your front door toolbox in hand. He changed out light fixtures, fixed leaky faucets, patched walls, hung photos, reinforced shelving. He was showing you he noticed small things. Knew what to do with them. Knew how to soothe small aches. How to make your life easier. Better. Better, he hoped.
Joel began reciting your names, memorizing them.
“This is my. Mine. My-”
“- honey.”
“- girlfriend.”
“- partner.”
“- love.”
“Second chance. Key to a part of me I had thought locked forever.” But he never put the last ones into words. It still felt too raw, his heart aching with gratitude and regret. You were still too much of a miracle to him.
Joel was practicing when he spent time in your bed. On your sofa. In your shower. Like learning a new sonata, he was testing what to do with his hands. The best way to make you whimper, make you sigh, make you moan. He learned his favourite sound was a small whine you would let out just before you sank into yourself and gave in to pleasure. Before you leaned all your weight into him. Before you guided his hands to where they felt best. Before you pulled on his hair so he was close enough to heaven that you saw stars.
After Sarah graduated and left for college, you spent more time at his house. It was bigger. There was a piano. Joel’s bed was immense. Joel’s walk-in shower sparked intricate fantasies. Joel’s backyard was large and lush, perfect for casual picnics and planters upon planters of tomatoes, peppers, beans, flowers. Nothing creaked. Nothing felt like it was making do. All the angles were square.
You placed strawberry shortcake in front of Joel after dinner. You listened to him sigh as he took the first bite. You accepted his compliments. You preened and felt more like yourself.
You too had been rehearsing. You had forgotten so much about not being alone as you bounced around the country. You were flexing muscles that had atrophied. Remembering how to live with another human being. Remembering how to compromise without resentment. Remembering the little joys that, when counted, were greater than the minor inconveniences.
You bought orange juice without pulp. You dug out your burr grinder and espresso machine. You learned the names of different screwdriver heads.
One morning, as you lazily wrapped your arms around Joel while he made coffee, you rested your forehead against his back. You slid your hands under his teeshirt and rested your palms against his warm skin. You imagined the constellation of freckles scattered across his chest. You inhaled deeply and smelled sleep and musk and the faintest hint of detergent. You were so lost in your cataloguing that you didn’t feel Joel stop. He looked down at the counter and up at the cabinets in front of him and held his breath. Once you felt like you had absorbed his essence, you noticed the stillness and the silence.
Before you could pull away, he slid his hand up his shirt and laid it on yours.
“Joel, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get between you and your coffee.”
You felt his chest rise with a deep breath and felt panic grow in your stomach. “Would you like to do this every morning?” Joel shook his head. All this practice and things were still coming out wrong.
“Stay,” he whispered.
You giggled nervously. “Joel. I can’t move. You’re holding my hand.”
“No. I mean. Stay.” He gulped air. “Stay stay. Stay.” Joel shook his head again and turned around, letting go of your hand and letting you step back to examine him. “Stay. Bring your stuff. Leave your clothing on the floor. Don’t leave. Just. Stay.” He took a deep breath and tried to still his hand that was now drumming against his thigh. “Plenty of room. There’s a piano. Can make you a space of your own. Just. Stay. Please.”
The panic in your stomach settled into a rock, like an anchor holding you in place.
You opened your mouth, hoping to say something eloquent, but instead you closed your mouth and nodded. “I’ll stay,” you barely whispered, your throat and mouth dry.
Joel stepped towards you and pulled you in, reciting the fragments of his case. “Plenty of room. Piano. Make you some space.”
Before he could repeat himself, you nipped at his neck, biting harder than you had intended. Joel shuddered and quieted.
“You,” you said. You repeated the only word that mattered in your decision: “you.”
And Joel understood. He hugged you more tightly and choked, trying not to cry. Astounded at his luck.
everyone posting pedro's latest look in cannes but him talking on that panel about being on the right side of history and wanting everyone to be safe and protected? the best quality he has.
Well Pedro dropped a new poem that proves he likes women. You can stop writing the faggot shit now.
honey, you forgot to include this part in your original message:
well, shit, it's a good thing i'm not writing about pedro then, huh?
writing about fictional characters that don't exist eases a lot of that worry for me!
sure would be a shame if he didn't have any roles that were canonically queer...
it would also be a shame if pedro himself didn't talk about how various types of queer media didn't shape him/mean a lot to him...
oh, let's not forget the writer he talks more about than any other...
or idk, all the times he's been a vocal supporter to lgbtq folks
Discover how Pedro Pascal's many actions throughout his career have solidified him as a true ally for the LGBTQ+ community.
"but that doesn't prove he's gay" i hear you say.
obviously. because he doesn't want to talk about his private life. and we should leave it there and respect his wishes.
so, coming into the inbox of a queer member of the fandom and sticking your finger in their face is not the moment you thought it was. all it's going to do is make younger/closeted queer people feel unsafe and unwelcome.
maybe instead of trying to send me a "gotcha", take this time as some self reflection because caring this much about a grown man, a stranger no less's personal life is fucking clown behavior.
also, that poem he wrote doesn't prove shit. all it proves is that he's talented in a lot of ways. if that's the outcome you got out of it, then i'm concerned for your mental wellbeing.
aka: have your little delulu fantasies but don't you dare be a homophobic/queerphobic cunt about it.
I'm so fucking serious right now.
A certain amount of people are being absolutely psychotically ridiculous right now over that Pedro poem published in the project by Mustafa (the poem isn't new, he had this on his blog in the early 2010s, btw). Within hours, people are yelling in public comments tHiS pROveS hE iS iNTo pUsSY + hEArTbRoKEn ovEr a wOmAN, PLUS sending anons to me and other queers saying 'this poem proves he's not gay!', 'stop writing f***** shit about him now!', further speculating, wanting receipts whether he ever talked about specific genders, etc.
You're losing the plot. STOP IT.
I'm not even gonna go into how appalled Pedro would be to know there's literally a Straight Crusade group that has been scouting socials since forever just to post fake stories. No, my concern is about all the queers, gays, and they's (the LGBTQIAS2+ community) among us fans -- especially the young ones, who are seeing all that anti-queerness and homophobia happening. It's 2025 and in so many countries queer rights are under attack, queer youths are suicidal at much higher rates than straight kids, and it still happens every fucking day that queers coming out means they're losing family, friends, jobs, housing, custody of kids, etcetc.
Let me clarify: I don't give a shit about Pedro's sexuality or who he sleeps with/dates. I’m not the person you’re gonna want to ask about any of that. Do I as a queer feel (and a lot of others with me) like he's been doing plenty of queer signalling through the years? Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's gospel/fact, and I'm sure as hell not trying to prove it or convince other people.
What IS a fuckin' problem though is when people and blogs are whipping up other fans into a literal frenzy, making them think that they need to 'defend' P or prove he's not gay. Sure, disect the poem and whatever else, knock yourself out, but do not send other people - especially not queers - plain ass hate about it, just because you want to impose your POV on them. Because you are harming people by making them feel like it's not okay to be queer/gay, and you're using Pedro as a means to do so. That's fucked up.
I'm not here to police anyone, but I'm telling y'all to have some common sense if this is something that you have either inadvertently or deliberately been doing. This is exactly why there are so few gay and queer male fans active in this fandom, because they see how much negativity there is at and how obsessive the compulsory heterosexuality is in some corners of the fandom. This is exactly why queer and trans folks feel unsafe to reach out and get to know other fans. This is why a lot of writers (queer and straight) often feel reluctant to write mlm/gay fanfic (be it P Boy x male reader/male OC, or P Boy x P Boy, or P Boy x canon character). This is why new queer/gay fans feel hesitant to put out work with queer representation, because they're afraid of negative comments or anons. And that SUCKS, because they want to tell their stories as much as other writers do, but it's damn hard when you look at the queer/homophobia that has been on the rise in this fandom as well as in society.
Is your ability to like his work, to like him as an actor, or even just as a person who does a lot of good stuff for marginalized communities, actually DEPENDENT on his (perceived) sexual orientation? On who he sleeps with or dates/has dated? To the point that you feel like you need to 'defend' him or prove things to other people? Because, first of all, in case nobody told you and it didn't occur to ya: he's not gonna fuck YOU. Second of all: wow. Get it together.
Finally, I can't believe I need to make this point, but: just because you don't like queers, doesn't mean they're gonna go away. Why are you reading my blog or Erin's or anyone else's tumblr that's clearly about queer stuff (we actually do indicate that already in our bio/pinned posts, you know) if you don't like it? WHY are you reading gay fanfic (which is about Pedro characters, not even RPF/Real Person Fiction, and YES - that is a very big difference) if it makes you angry? Most of all, why do you feel like it's okay to act like a fuckin asshole?
Stop reading things you don't like. Block people you don't like. Dislike stuff all you want, but just don't be a homophobic piece of shit about it.
