Feb 12, 2023
🎼 - Thomas and Francis
Our muses' ship song!
Oh, oh oh oh, At the End of the Earth by The Dear Hunter, hands down, it hurts my heart every time.
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🎼 - Thomas and Francis
Our muses' ship song!
Oh, oh oh oh, At the End of the Earth by The Dear Hunter, hands down, it hurts my heart every time.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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💛 - Arthur and Francis 🥺
Specifically from the Franklin's (Other) Folly AU -- but honestly could apply to them in general.
Sad Irish Dad + Feral English Son = Fantastic Found Family
“I don’t have to listen to you. I can decide things for myself.” - Francis on buying himself another sailing book that he does not need!
i don’t like being controlled … sentence starters
Mycroft did not resist the urge to roll his eyes. Yes, of course Francis could decide for himself. He was, after all, an adult with a mind of his own. However, that did not mean that all the decisions he made were automatically good ones. In fact, Mycroft thought that a lot of them were quite the opposite!
"You did not need this book," Mycroft stated in a rather firm tone. He motioned to all the other sailing books that were rapidly taking up one of the bookshelves in his home's library. "You already have all of these books, and I hardly think that the content in this new one could be remarkably different!"
After all, had anything particularly changed when it came to sailing? Mycroft hardly thought so. It was not a topic that he could claim to be an expert in but, to his knowledge, there had not been any exciting developments in the field.
Perhaps Francis only wanted the books for the pictures. That seemed like the kind of stunt he would pull but, even then it was hardly an excuse. How many photographs of the oceans did one man need!
Francis is in love with Thomas' golden sense of humour, the way the man can read him like an open book, his total honesty, his unyielding support and the fact he's tougher than old boots but has such a soft and warm centre <3
Thomas is going to cheat and say he loves Francis for being not unlike the sea--Hear me out!!
He loves how strongly Francis feels, in anger or affection or thoughtfulness, whether he's a blustering tempest or brooding calm. He adores, and accepts, the dual nature of Francis' wit, which can be equally brilliant and biting at times. He greatly enjoys Francis' company which is sure to either keep him on his toes, or offer Thomas the solace and comfort of a good damn friend. And most of all, he loves Francis' enduring nature, whether it's through a proper storm or his own thoughts troubling him.
▲&▼ for Francis
Send me a "▲" for what my character likes about yours or a "▼" for what my character DOESN'T like about yours.
▲ Positive:
Francis has a really nice uniform. He looks after it well and it has Mycroft like 👀👀👀👀
▼ Negative:
Mycroft can't really talk, but he does think that Francis needs to cheer up sometimes. Yes, he understands that going on an arctic expedition that results in everybody dying and you losing your arm has the tendency to result in misery, but it does get a little tiresome sometimes.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
♔♔ - For Francis and Mycroft
Send me ♔♔ for a photoset/edit/gifset of our muses
They Say That Misery Loves Company
Thomas and Francis in their immortal verses :)
Here you go! The immortal old husbands and their happy life. <3
"Where have you been?" From a fussing Francis
Thomas shut out the howling wind and falling snow by pushing the door behind him closed with his cane and paused as though caught red-handed. In truth, he really had been, as he'd hoped he could've been back from the shop before Francis noticed he was even gone.
He stood there all bundled up head to toe and indeed, covered in snow and ice, some of it already melting off him and dripping to the floor. Under his arm he had tucked a large, thick package of sausages tied together with a box of tea, with his cane in his left hand.
"It wasn't snowing when I went out," he offered in defense, before toddling forward to offer the package to Francis as he began to remove his wig, gloves and scarves.
He did feel a little guilty. It was the first winter after their miraculous return from the Arctic--only four of them having survived--and he knew how Francis worried. He couldn't blame him, either. But they'd been told by Goodsir that red meat seemed to help the healing of lead poisoning and if that meant a simple bloody walk to the butcher every now and then, it was well worth it. Especially in months like these where it felt like that icy Hell was descending down upon them all over again.