#// duh he feels like they all deserve freedom-- not just him

[fen-dwxller]

wholsumvalues quiz !

tagging: anyone that wants to do this ! <3

[canadianfangirl-95]

Frankie Morales- Sugar Daddy edition

Summary: You are a teacher at a private school in Texas and your colleagues warn you about one of your new parents, Mr. Morales. When you meet him, you’re blown away by the rich, suave, and extremely handsome man. He soon begins pursuing you and you must choose between keeping your job or giving in to the infatuation you feel for this man as he showers you with gifts and admiration.

About: This is the beginning of the sugar daddies AU Triple Frontier collection where each guy will get a f x reader pov story. The events of Triple Frontier are changed; No Tom (we hate Tom in this house), the helicopter never crashes so they make it to the ocean without incident, each taking home $25 million dollars. But these guys are smart so naturally they’ve basically doubled their money by now. Takes place between 7-10 years after the events of the heist.

Frankie is divorced, no reason why explained. No mention of Frankies substance abuse.

Warnings: 18 + minors DNI, age difference, reader is in her 20s, Frankie is in late 40s, smut, oral f receiving (it’s Frankie duh), alcohol, swearing, daddy kink, squirting, basically buckle up kids it's gonna be a bumpy ride

Word Count: 12k +

Long Horn Academy, a private school for the oil tycoons and fortune five hundred owners of Texas to send their kids. It was the dream school for all teachers in the state. Good money, benefits, pension, everything you could ask for. Except of course for the elitist parents and children that treat you more like a servant than an educator. However, it was still better than the public school system that’s for sure. You waited years after teaching college on a supply teacher list in order to finally get your own classroom.

September came around and you were beaming with excitement going over everything you needed for your first year as a grade three teacher at this incredible school. You had gotten to know many of the other teachers at the school during your supply years, so before class started you mulled about the teachers’ lounge with your coffee, talking about everything the year has to bring. Oh, how little you truly knew about how life changing this school year would be.

“I just can’t believe I have my own class and room now! It’s been so exhausting dragging my book bag to every room in the building because I didn’t have a desk of my own.” You beamed to your colleagues, Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell. Mrs. Young was a seasoned vet in the teaching field, at around mid-fifties, she always sported the most comfortable clothing but still so chic. Ms. Campbell was around your age, she had bright blue hair that caused quite a stir in the school until the principal deemed it a freedom of expression issue and shut the parents down. She wore their displeasure with her as a badge of honor.

Ms. Campbell smiled at you, “Hey girl you deserve it. I had your class a few years ago and they were actually really well behaved, save for this one snot nose kid Randall.” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of him throwing paint at her.

You laughed along, you too had shared a few run in with kids like that.

Mrs. Young interjected, “Oh, you forgot to tell her the best part.” she said to Ms. Campbell, gently swatting her arm and raising her eyebrows, hoping her friend would get the hint of what she was implying.

Ms. Campbells eyes widened, and she grinned at Mrs. Young, you looked between them, trying desperately to figure out this big news.

“You’re right, she’s gonna have Liliana Morales in her class.” Ms. Young stated with excitement.

You looked confused, “Who’s Liliana Morales?” you asked.

“Oh no sweetie, not who’s Liliana Morales, who’s Daddy Morales is the question you should be asking.” She hummed into her coffee, clearly pleased with the situation at hand.

Taken aback you replied, “Okay, who’s Daddy Morales?”

The two women nodded their heads to each other before Mrs. Young responded, “Honey, he’s a rich divorced dad.”

Not at all surprised you nodded, “Okay, that’s like seventy-five percent of the dads at this school, what makes him so special?”

She grinned, “Oh, you’ll see.”

You returned to your classroom ready for the day. Everything had been prepared meticulously in order to make a good first impression with the insanely high standards these parents had. Your room was decorated tastefully with a mix of colour and neutral tones, and you had prepared a tray of lemon bars for the parents to enjoy as they mulled around the room with their children. The parents were allowed to stay for the first period of the first day to get to know the teachers’ style and ask questions, as well as provide any educational information the teacher might need for the children.

Slowly, parents and students started arriving. The majority of them greeted you politely, a few blonde mothers in their Pilates outfits shook your hand with limp wrists, clearly not approving of your attire. They all wore Chanel and Louis Vuitton, labels far out of your budget. There are some teachers at the school that dressed the part, but they were not working with your new hire salary. So, Old Navy was where you got your work clothes.

Smiling politely, you grew more nervous as the crowd in the room became louder. There were so many strange faces you didn’t know how you would get through this first period. You stood near your desk, smoothing out your skirt when a tap on your elbow shifted your attention.

A tall man stood before you, with styled brown hair and a beard with a thick mustache. He wore a light tan blazer, a brown button down and dark jeans. His eyes were bright and brown like a baby cow. You gazed hopelessly into them before registering that he was trying to talk to you.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” You asked, embarrassed.

He smiled, “I’m Francisco Morales, Lilianas father.” He stated, reaching out his hand.

Morales? You thought, oh shit. This must be who the other teachers were referring to. He was so handsome your mouth went dry. You did your best to answer him, “Nice to meet you, I’m Ms. Smith.” You took his hand and shook it, feeling a spark of electricity as your fingers touched. You pulled it back and folded your arms, wondering if the feeling was all in your head or if he felt it too.

He smiled, “It’s mighty nice to meet you too. Liliana is very excited for this year.”

You nodded, “That’s great, I’ve heard good things about you- her, sorry I’ve heard good things about her.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and begged for someone to interrupt.

Unluckily for you, he stayed right at your side without wavering. “How long have you been teaching?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans and leaning on his left leg.

“I’ve been a substitute here for five years and this is my first full time role.” You answered, a little more confidently this time you may add.

Mr. Morales nodded politely, “Well I think that’s great, always good to get some fresh young minds in here to teach us old people a thing or two.” he said, adjusting his sleeve length under his blazer and giving you a kind wink.

You nodded, “I’m glad you’re happy, that makes at least one of you.” You said quietly, more to yourself than anyone else, and looked around the room at the parents swiftly critiquing the lesson plan you had posted.

He looked around at the crowd of people and then at you, noticing how uncomfortable you were. “Hey, don’t give any mind to these people. They’re not happy with anything, trust me.” He leaned in and rested his hand on your elbow. You looked at his kind and sympathetic eyes and immediately swooned. He was so handsome it made you sick, and of course he had to be nice as well. What the hell have you gotten yourself into here. No, no, you thought. It’s just a little crush, you’re sure it will pass.

You smiled kindly at his assuring comment, and he retreated to the back of the classroom, following where his daughter had ended up. You slowly moved behind the desk at the front of the classroom and tapped your fingers on it, now was a better time than ever to get this show on the road.

Clapping your hands together, you alerted the attention of the class that you would be starting. You were met with bounds of questions and critiques from the parents, you swallowed your breath so many times with your nerves you thought you might pass out. Save for Mr. Morales, he stood in the middle of the back of the room, leaning against the large window overlooking the soccer fields with a calm resolve on his face. You let your gaze linger on him far too many times, but you couldn’t help it. Each time you did, his kind eyes soaked your heart with contentment and made your knees weak.

Finally, after almost every parent had cited their concerns, you felt yourself slightly dampened. You took a deep breath looking at the clock. “So, we only have another minute left before the period is over and we break for snack so does, anybody, have any other questions or comments?” Your breath broke during the sentence, hoping not to be met with any more judgement or you might cry.

Just as a particularly snarky mother was about to raise her hand, Mr. Morales quickly popped himself off the window and took a few steps forward. “I would just like to say, I am so excited to see what you have to bring to this class this year.” He spoke confidently but kindly, and seemingly only to you. His eyes burned into yours and made your heart flutter. “I cannot think of a better teacher, to take care of our kids.” He finished.

You offered him a thankful grin and nod, “Thank you, Mr. Morales. I’m really happy to be here.” You held your hands together in front of you. Trying not to break your resolve.

The sound of the bell filled the room and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. You nodded politely as the parents said their goodbyes and the children rose to get their snacks.

Mr. Morales suddenly appeared at your side, “Thank you for this, you did a great job.” he said, before backing away to the door. Not before sneakily looking you up and down.

Your eyes widened, and your heart skipped a beat. This is going to be trouble.

As the months moved along Mr. Morales’ flirting got more and more obvious. Bringing you coffee and treats in the morning, lingering after pickup to chat with you, that stupid gorgeous smile leaving you desperate for more of his attention. You learned that he and his wife divorced when Liliana was a baby and he shared custody but as the school was on the way to work, he picked her up and dropped her off even if she was his ex’s house. He told you that he owns a construction company and purchased it fairly recently. He was charming and sweet, but not so sweet as you caught him multiple times outright checking you out. You grew more and more embarrassed by your wardrobe, looking at all the amazing clothes the other teachers were wearing. You knew he was older than you, like way older than you, but you didn’t really care. Especially since it was school policy teachers couldn’t date parents, so there was no harm in flirting with a man who was clearly flirting with you.  

One December morning you were in the lunchroom with Mrs. Young and Ms. Campbell, discussing your upcoming Christmas break plans.

Ms. Campbell teased you, “So, what’s it like having Daddy Morales in your class?”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s fine, he’s actually very nice.”

“Oh, I know, he’s a Southern charmer darling.”

Sipping from your coffee cup, you hid your grin as you thought of how Mr. Morales made you feel and how quickly you were developing feelings for him.

The last of the kids were leaving your classroom as the end of the day drew near. Mr. Morales crept into the room and gestured to Liliana that he was going to be speaking to you before they left. You stood still near your desk, casually folding the flyers for the Christmas concert on your desk as you awaited his approach.

He moved beside you and turned with his back to the rest of the room. “Hey darlin, how was your day?” he asked with an energetic smile.

You smiled; his informal greetings may have gone a little far past professionalism, but you didn’t mind one bit. “Good, thank you. How was yours?”

“Oh fine, construction isn’t exactly exciting but it’s a good group of guys, so, you know.” He looked slightly nervous, and you grew cautious of the interaction, he always had such a confident and suave demeanor about him. “I was actually wondering if you would be free on Friday night?” he asked, gauging your response.

Stunned, you stuttered, “Oh, um, I’m sorry Mr. Morales, but teachers aren’t actually allowed to,”

“I understand don’t worry.” He interjected, “I noticed Liliana was having a hard time with English and was wondering if you would be able to do some additional tutoring? I’d pay you, it’s my own fault really. We only speak Spanish at home so.” He looked bashful and your cheeks grew red with embarrassment that you thought for even a second, he would be asking you out.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have assumed. Um, yes, I can definitely help you that.” You nodded softly, hoping you didn’t just ruin everything.

He smiled, “That’s great thank you. Do you mind coming round my place at say 5?”

Nodding you replied, “Yes that works, I’ll get your address from her file.”

“Great, thank you again hermosa.” He said as he backed up and gestured for Liliana to follow him.

You simultaneously couldn’t wait until Friday and couldn’t even fathom the idea of being alone with this man you had so much desire for.

Friday evening came and you plugged his address into your phone. You slid into your mid 2000s Ford Focus and headed out. It was a cash car, and your first purchase once you saved enough money would definitely be to upgrade, but that was a long way away. It still felt awful parking it with its rusted fenders beside the Lincolns and Range Rovers that took up the majority of the parking lot at the school.

The neighborhoods you were driving through suddenly shifted more and more into the luxury market. You couldn’t believe the sizes of some of these houses, how could anybody have this much stuff you thought. You finally pulled into the laneway your phone indicated and were met with a long driveway to a stunning stone house with a balcony on the second level facing the road. Your mouth gapped at the size of the estate and the sight of the hoard of vintage and luxury vehicles along the front of the laneway.

Parking your car over to the side so that he may not see it as you leave, you shrugged your cardigan back on your shoulder that it had fallen off and strutted with your tote bag of learning materials to the front door. You looked around casually, there’s no bell. How could there be no bell? Just a large circular knocker in the middle of the door. You bit your lip and swiftly knocked the handle against the dark brown wood door. It made a louder thud than you thought it would, but you still felt anxious that he wouldn’t have heard anything.

When you were just about to grab the knocker again the door suddenly swings open. Leaving you motionless with your hand raised between the two of you. He was in a black button down with sleeves rolled up and khaki pants. You quickly ripped your hand back to your side, “Hi, Mr. Morales, how are you?”

He looked at you up and down briefly, you were wearing black boots with light wash jeans, a snuggly fit blue tank top and a patterned cardigan over top. “Hey sweetheart, doin’ just fine long time no see huh?”

Blushing, you realized you had literally seen him less than two hours ago. He moved in the door so you could slip by him. When you entered you were greeted with an enormous stone staircase cascading up into the second level with exposed railing. There was a crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the room, illuminating you with a stunning glow. You couldn’t help but turn where you stood, shifting your gaze continuously to the next beautiful part of the room you caught with your eyes.

Finally turning around in a half circle, our gaze was met with Mr. Morales, whose eyes were dug into you, enjoying your childlike wonder.

“Sorry,” you said bashfully. “I’ve just never been in a house like this.”

He held his hands together and took a step towards you, "That's okay. Honestly up until a few years ago I hadn't seen anything like this either. It's a bit much for me but Liliana told me she wanted to live in a castle so I couldn't resist spoiling her." He winked at you and gave a sheepish smile. 

You giggled, "I get that, she's a really wonderful little girl. I've loved having her in my class." 

"Thank you, and for what it's worth we have very much enjoyed having you as her teacher. You might be our favourite." He touched his hand to his chest and spoke so earnestly, it made your gaze drop embarrassingly to his mouth as he talked. 

Thankfully before you had to pry another sentence from your desperately dry mouth, Liliana came bounding into the room with a skip and threw her arms around you. 

Mr. Morales reached out and took her arm, "Whoa girl, let's give Ms. Smith some space. Why don't you show her to the study, and I'll check on dinner. I hope you're okay with staying for dinner. I thought it was the least I could do for stealing you on a Friday evening. I'm sure your boyfriend would've preferred to spend time with you since we hog you all day all week." He looked at you with hopeful eyes. 

You met his gaze, "I would love to stay for dinner, thank you. And no boyfriend so I'm all yours tonight." 

He smiled, and nodded at Liliana when she took your hand to leave the room. You briefly looked back over your shoulder at Mr. Morales before you turned the corner and found he was still standing there with his hands on his hips, watching as you left. 

A knock came to the door of the study and Mr. Morales poked his head in. "Hey ladies, it's dinner time. Liliana, go wash up. Ms. Smith I'll show you to the dining room."

Liliana left to go to the washroom, and you collected your things. Mr. Morales waited patiently waiting in the doorway. You heaved your heavy tote back on your shoulder and started towards him.

“Here, let me take that.” He said, pulling the strap easily off your shoulder. You nodded, thanking him and followed him through the house. Each room is more amazing than the other. He stepped aside to let you walk first into a stunning dining room. The walls were bright white with a high ceiling and pillars reaching up in each corner. The curtains had a white and blue pattern covering what you assume must be an incredible view. Sat in the middle of the room was a stunning ten-foot polished wood table with matching high back chairs wrapped around it. Your mouth gapped once again at the sight.

He gestured around you to a seat on the right side of the head of the table. There were three settings done with beautiful silver wear and plating. Just as you sat, Liliana came back in and sat herself across from you on the left side.

The table had trays of traditional Chilean food, luckily, Latin food happened to be your favourite.

“I hope you don’t mind the food; it can be a bit spicy.” he said, taking his seat beside you and offering a bottle of red wine.

You lifted your glass to hand to him, “No not at all. I actually love spice.” You said as he took the glass from you, pouring the wine in. Your fingers grazed against each other as he handed it back to you and you nearly dropped it.

“Alright Liliana, why don’t you say grace for us?” He said, after pouring himself his drink.

She happily clasped her hands together and squeezed her eyes shut. You followed suit with Mr. Morales.

“God is great, God is good, let us thank him for this food, Amen.” she said excitedly.

“Well said sweetheart, alright everybody dig in.”

The three of you ate, and laughed and drank. Mr. Morales and Liliana recounting dozens of stories, and you telling a few embarrassing vacation stories from your childhood that made Liliana laugh, and Mr. Morales too for that matter. You all had finished your food long ago when Mr. Morales looked at his watch.

“Oh, geeze baby girl. Look at the time, I’d say you should start getting ready for bed.” He said to his daughter, pointing at his watch.

She slumped in her chair, “Oh daddy, please. It’s Friday.” She put on her best puppy dog eyes that made you giggle.

He rolled his eyes at the obvious tactic, “Okay, you have to go to bed, but you can put a movie on to fall asleep to. Alright?”

She beamed, “Deal. Thank you for helping me Ms. Smith.” She said as she rose from her seat.

“Of course, sweetie, it was my pleasure.” You replied, catching Mr. Morales grinning at the interaction.

Liliana left the room and you stood to grab your plate, to which Mr. Morales quickly swatted your hands away. “Oh no no. Don’t even think about it, you’re a guest you will not be cleaning up this mess.”

“But you made this beautiful dinner, it’s the least I can do.” You protested.

He continued his objection, “Please hermosa, it’s really fine. Why don’t you just go out to the living room and I’ll bring a coffee. How do you want it?” He stood close, closer than you thought you would be comfortable with.

Stuttering you replied, “Just milk and sugar please.” And quickly retreated in the direction he had gestured.

Of course, another stunning room full of beautiful paintings and photos on the wall of Mr. Morales and Liliana.

You rounded an emerald green sofa and sat down, admiring the wood coffee table in front of you with a bouquet of roses on it.

Lost in thought you daydreamed about living here, how stunning it would be to wake up every day and stroll down that staircase. You can’t even imagine how glorious his bed must be if the damn couch is this comfortable.

Mr. Morales caught your attention and placed the coffees on the table. He sat beside you, almost right beside you. You felt your heart skip a beat but reached for the coffee to give your shaking hands something to do.

“These flowers are beautiful, roses are my favourite.” You pointed casually to the flowers.

He looked at you with his cup in his hand. “Thanks, I like them too. They really brighten up a room. So, do you like teaching at Long Horn?”

Nodding, “Yeah, it’s really great. It can be a bit overwhelming, but I do like it.”

His eyebrows knotted together, and an adorable crease split his forehead. “Overwhelming how?”

“Well, it’s just that, most of the teachers there and pretty much all of the parents are in a certain class that I’m not really in so it can be a bit, I don’t know. A bit embarrassing showing up in my car and my clothes and my shoes and well, just not really dressing the part of a teacher at such a prestigious school.” You tucked your hair behind your ear, slightly embarrassed by your honesty.

He scoffed, “Do you think their clothes make them a better teacher than you?”

Shaking your head you replied, “No of course not, it’s more of a status thing, I guess. It’s probably pretty juvenile to feel this way.”

Mr. Morales took a sip from his cup, never taking his eyes off you, “Well, would you feel more confident if you dressed the way they do?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, “I guess so, yeah. I think I would feel like I fit in more and maybe would get treated better by some of the parents. But I guess this will have to do for now.” You waved away your thoughts, “I’m saving for a new car right now so I shouldn’t worry about all that.”

He hummed, looking away briefly, deep in thought.

You asked him about his work, he got a bit vague but still answered your questions intently. The conversation flowed nicely, and you enjoyed talking to him. You almost forgot how much older he was because he still had such a youthful humor about himself. He talked about his friends Santiago, Will and Benny. It felt so comfortable, but also bizarre as you were sitting having this lovely conversation in a multi-million-dollar home. You simultaneously felt out of place and right where you needed to be.

Your coffees had been finished and you looked at your phone, “I should probably get going Mr. Morales. Thank you for the dinner and coffee.” You rose from your seat.

He stood with you, “Of course, least I could do for Lilianas favourite teacher. Thank you again for tutoring her.”

You both walked slowly to the front entrance, the electricity between you could power the whole damn house. You picked up the tote bag he had rested against the wall beside the door and turned to him. “Thanks again, have a great rest of your night.”

“You as well.” he replied, rubbing his hands on his jeans. He suddenly realized his place and reached for the door, pulling it open for you. You nodded and left through it. The walk to your car felt odd, the temperature had dropped slightly so you hugged yourself a bit. Fumbling with your keys, you finally get the door open and toss the tote into the passenger seat. Looking in the rear-view mirror as you drove down the long laneway, you notice the front door is still open and his broad silhouette is stood there watching as you leave.

Sunday morning rolled around, and you had no plans, other than to totally veg out in your pjs and watch movies all day. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you had your trusty bunny slippers on. Your apartment was small, but plenty for you. Although you have to admit, it felt a lot smaller when you returned from Mr. Morales’ house on Friday. You were settled in to continue your marathon of the Alien movies when a knock came at the door. You sat up puzzled, you just placed the order for your Popeyes chicken lunch and there’s no way it’s already here. Shrugging your sweater up from where it had fallen off your shoulder you sauntered over to the door and opened it.

You were met with a woman, with brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, a knee length pencil skirt, black heels and a stunning blue silk blouse.

“Ms. Smith?” she asked.

Stunned you replied, “Uh- yes?”

“Great, I have a delivery for you.” She said as she suddenly pulled a luggage cart into view that was covered in clothing bags, shoe boxes and small packages.

You huffed in confusion as she pushed past you with the cart.

“Um- I didn’t order anything?” You followed her as she made herself comfortable in your living room.

“Size?” she asked.

Even more confused, you replied, “What?”

“Shoes, shoe size.” She said, gesturing to the boxes on the bottom of the cart.

You looked at her with more annoyance than confusion now but gave her your size.

She pulled about the boxes, putting three of them onto your kitchen table.

“I’m sorry can I ask what this is all about because I am just totally confused.” You waved your hands in the air as you conceded the situation.

Tossing her ponytail behind her shoulder as she ran her hands through the hangers. “These are from Mr. Morales.”

Your mouth gapped, what does she mean these are from Mr. Morales? Did he give you all these? How is this even happening right now?

Before you could speak again, she interjected, “Okay, I am just going to get your measurements, please stand here with your arms out.”

You were at a loss for words, so instead you did as you were told and allowed her to measure your body for sizing. She thanked you and started mulling about the hangers.

You walked towards the table cautiously, looking at the shoe boxes, they all had the same name on them, Christian Louboutin. Your hand slowly opened one of them and pushed the tissue paper aside, revealing a stunning pair of black, red bottom heels. Mouthwatering you ran your finger along the side of them and couldn’t believe your eyes.

The woman pulled a series of clothing bags off the bar and hung them over the edge of your thrift store couch.

“Oh, one more thing.” She said, reaching into a package on the front of the cart. She pulled out a long thin cardboard box and opened it as you wrang your hands together in nervousness. She slid a brown box the same dimensions as the cardboard with gold detailing on it and handed it to you. Your eyes widened as you recognized the iconic Louis Vuitton logo adorned all over it.

“Have a good day.” She stated as she pushed the rolling cart out into the hallway, closing the door behind her.

You waved your hand causally before returning your attention to the box. Sheepishly, you popped it open, and your eyes went wide at the five gold and diamond matching bracelet set. It shone in the light and your breath all but stopped completely. You looked around at the shoe boxes and bags of what you can only assume are more designer clothes. Your head spun so hard you had to brace yourself on the kitchen table. This could not be happening; this could not be real. Why on earth would this man give you all this insanely expensive stuff? You put the jewelry box down and straightened yourself up, promising yourself you wouldn’t touch anything until you spoke to Mr. Morales.

The clock ticked on the wall of your classroom Monday morning, you grew more and more anxious to see Mr. Morales. Tapping your fingers on the desk you stared at the door. Finally, Liliana came bouncing in with Mr. Morales on her heels. You swiftly strutted over to him and stood with your stance firm.

He caught the look on your face, and he grew nervous, “Hi, Ms. Smith. How was your weekend?” He glanced at your outfit; eyebrows furrowed at the fact that you were wearing the same navy dress with a stitch missing around the collar that you were wearing last week.

You pulled your lips tight at how casual he was being, “Fine, thank you. Do you mind if I speak to you in the hall?” You pointed out the door, to which he nodded and followed closely behind you.

There weren’t many people in the hall yet as he was always one of the earliest drop-offs, but you lowered your voice, nonetheless. “I had a delivery yesterday.” You stated.

He nodded, “Great, did you like everything?” He did his best to smile, considering your face did not match his.

“Mr. Morales,” You pinched your nose, “I cannot accept a bribe and you shouldn’t feel like you need to I mean Liliana did great on Friday night I think she’s really getting it and,”

He cut you off, “Whoa now, that wasn’t a bribe.” He chuckled.

You looked to him with confusion, “It wasn’t?”

“No.”

“Then, what was it?” you asked, leaning against the lockers beside you and crossing your arms.

He looked down at you, “An investment.”

Your eyebrows popped up, “An investment?” You questioned.

“Yes, you told me you would feel more confident if you dressed the part of a teacher at this school. I want the absolute best for my daughter so I thought if I invested in you then you would be able to be the best teacher you could be.” He tucked his hands in his leather jacket. That damn jacket you thought. It fit him so well and looked so good with his distressed jeans. He must not be going into the office today you thought.

Taking a deep breath through your nose you replied, “I really don’t think I can accept all that Mr. Morales. All that stuff costs more than like, three of my car.” You laughed to yourself at the situation you had found yourself in.

He took a step in, looking around for any other people in the hallway. “Let yourself be taken care of, for once in your life hermosa.” Your mouth fell open at the intense smell of his musky cologne you could now smell with him so close to you. Before you could retaliate, he turned and strutted down the hall.

You watched as he left, still too stunned to speak.

The rest of the week you strutted around the school in your new clothes. The snobby moms that typically gave you a side eye gave you a confident smile and complimented your lesson plan for the next week. You felt amazing gliding down the hallway in your red bottom heels, the gold bracelets dangling from your wrists.

Ms. Campbell nearly choked on her coffee one morning as you glided in wearing a form fitting purple work dress and black heeled ankle boots with black tights and tight blazer snug on your shoulders.

“Geeze what’s with this get up?” she asked, looking you up and down.

Shrugging you replied, “Oh just got some new clothes. I’ve been saving for a while and thought I would treat myself since I’m not travelling for Christmas this year.” A blatant lie you thought, but it was for the best. No one could know everything was from Mr. Morales. There’s no way the principal would accept his “investment” story and you’d be done for.

“So, is your class ready for the Christmas concert?” You asked, trying desperately to change the subject.

She peered at you suspiciously, “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will be good. Will Daddy Morales be gracing us with his presence?”

You nodded casually, “I believe so.”

Another teacher, Mrs. Rodriguez, came in to grab water from the fridge. She was nice enough, but you didn’t cross paths with her much. “What are we talking about ladies?” She smiled kindly.

Ms. Campbell leaned back in her chair to look at Mrs. Rodriguez, “Daddy Morales.”

You scoffed at your friend and gave her a wide look.

Mrs. Rodriguez hummed, “Mmm, Daddy Morales. He’s with your class now, isn’t he?” she asked, pointing at you.

Nodding you replied, “Yes, I have his daughter Liliana this year.”

“Lucky girl.” She commented before leaving the room.

Embarrassment grew in your chest as you worried anybody had picked up on your crush.

Friday evening came, the last day before Christmas break and the day of the concert. You had spent every waking minute preparing for it and were eager to show off your class. Everything was going off without a hitch as you stood at the side watching your class. Liliana had a little solo which she absolutely killed. You nervously peered out into the crowd to gauge the parents’ reactions. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and smiling along with the music. Your gaze suddenly caught Mr. Morales sitting on the edge of an aisle near the front, looking more handsome than ever. His hair and beard are still styled perfectly, wearing a navy knit sweater and khakis. Your eyebrows perked up as you noticed a bulge in his pants with the way he was sitting, widespread so he could rest his left leg in the aisle. All of a sudden, the music stopped, and your class was taking their bow. You shook your head straight and clapped along with the crowd.

The show finally came to a close and you stood in the hallway, saying your goodbyes to the students and parents. A hand tapped your elbow and you turned to meet eyes with Mr. Morales. He looked you up and down, seemingly pleased in the red silk blouse, black pencil skirt and heels you had put together from the selection he gave you.

“Hey darlin, that was a great show.” he said nervously.

You grinned at him, “Thank you, Liliana really stole the show. Where is she?” You asked as you scanned his sides to see his daughter was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s left with my mom; she promised her she’d take her out for ice cream after the show. No boys allowed is what I was greeted with when I asked to join.” He laughed, waving his hands slightly with his story. You giggled along.

He suddenly looked even more nervous than when you had challenged him about the gifts, “It’s kind of noisy over here do you mind if we go for a quick walk?” Pointing in the direction of the classrooms.

Unsure, but entranced, you followed. You couldn’t even feel your feet moving, they just seemed to know where to go.

You walked slowly together, not speaking until you had finally rounded the corner.

Desperate to break the silence that was held together by the utter sexual tension you were trying your best to ignore, you asked, “Is everything okay, Mr. Morales?”

He rubbed his chin with his palm and tried to look at you, “Yes, sweetheart everything, everything’s fine. I just, wanted to tell you that I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and uh, listening to Liliana talk about you every night.”

Your chest grew red, “That’s great, I really like talking to you too Mr. Morales.”

He waved his hand causally, “Please, you don’t need to call me Mr. Morales. That makes me feel old.” He laughed nervously.

“Oh, yeah that’s fine. Francisco, right?” You asked, still trying to keep up with him as he seemed to have a destination in mind considering the pace he had set.

“Uh- yeah, yeah that’s fine.” He smiled and you nodded.

He finally came to a stop in front of your classroom, you were so entranced you hadn’t noticed this is where he was leading you. He shifted towards the door and turned the handle. You were somewhat confused as your door was locked when you left that day. Hesitantly, you walked past him into your room.

Your mouth fell open as you looked at your desk, it had a large bouquet of roses on it and sitting in front of the roses was a shiny white cushion Chanel purse.

You stopped in your tracks, “Mr. – uh, Francisco what the hell is all this?”

He closed the door behind him and took a few steps over to you, “Just a Christmas gift.”

You spun in your spot, “A Christmas gift? Really you are just too much.” You protested, part of you completely flattered and a part of you concerned.

He stepped closer still, until your bodies were just inches away from each other. Your breath was labored, and you couldn’t see straight. It wasn’t until he pointed up at the ceiling that you finally were able to focus your eyes.

A mistletoe. There was a mistletoe hanging perfectly from the ceiling above you. Your gaze dropped back to his face. He was looking intently at you, scanning every piece of you. His eyes dropped to your mouth, and you felt yourself lean in. He quickly closed the gap and met your lips with his.

His hands found themselves on your waist as you cautiously rested yours on his arms. The kiss was deep but soft, it held emotions from months and months ago and released a pain you didn’t know you were carrying.

You finally pulled yourself back, remembering the consequences of your actions. “I really, shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered to him.

He looked down at you softly, “Why not? I know you’ve been feeling the way I’ve been feeling all this time. Why not let yourself embrace it?”

Your chest flushed and you released yourself from his grip, “Because, I would lose my job if anyone found out about, about- all of this. The gifts, the kiss. I am not supposed to be doing anything like this with a parent.” You sounded flustered now, your head spinning for all new reasons.

“What if you didn’t need your job?” He asked, trying to follow you in your steps.

You looked at him puzzled, “What do you mean what if I didn’t need my job? Of course I need my job, and I can’t find anything that will pay more in the state.”

His voice turned deeper and his eyes darkened, “What if you didn’t need your job because I would take care of you.”

Taken aback, you can barely stutter out, “What?”

He steps further into you, “What if, we gave this a real shot, and I took care of you. Because I can. Because I want to. You don’t need to move in with me or anything, but I would pay for your apartment until we got to that point. I like you hermosa. I care about you, and I think you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. I know I’m older than you, but I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life, spoiling you and giving you the life you deserve.”

All you could hear once he stopped speaking was your heartbeat, it was pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was asking you to quit your job to date him and let him shower you with gifts and love. A beautiful could be stepdaughter that you’ve grown to care so much for. It all seemed too good to be true.

He held your shoulders in his big, strong hands. “One day. Give me one day to show you what your life could be like with me. And if you hate me at the end of it, you’ll never hear a damn word out of me. But just give me one day. Please.”

Something broke inside you, your resolve was gone. You wanted nothing more than to throw your shaking body into his arms and kiss him feverishly. Right now, though, all you could muster was a quiet okay.

He nodded, “Liliana is at her moms on Christmas day, and I know you aren’t going to see any family. So please, spend the day with me and I promise I’ll make it one you’ll never forget.”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You said, trying to be confident.

He beamed, reaching around you to grab the flowers and bag as you shuffled slowly towards the door.

You looked back at him, “How did you do all this anyway?” pointing up at the mistletoe.

He chuckled, “Had to give the custodian a hundred bucks.” He said with a wink.

Christmas day.

This used to be your favourite holiday growing up. You were always surrounded by family and food. The gifts were sparce, due to your dad being on disability from an injury and your mom doing her best to keep everything together. But that never bothered you, until you would see your friends at school, and they would talk about the heaps of toys they received from Santa. Still, you had a wonderful family and that filled your heart as much as it could. You normally go visit your parents for Christmas back home in Florida, but you had saved for the last 6 years to get them a cruise and Christmas was the only time your mom could get off work. You were all prepared to spend the day in your pjs, watching movies and making cookies. Your plans were abruptly changed though, by the man who had all but begged you to go on a luxurious date with him. You figured your circumstances can’t be so bad.

You looked around your apartment, thinking about what this day could bring. If all goes well, you’d be quitting your job after the semester is done in a month and letting yourself fall into a serious relationship. All your time will be spent figuring out if you love this man. Could you? Do you? It was all so confusing, but thankfully he shouldn’t be around for a few more hours so now you just needed to finish your bowl of mac and cheese you reheated for lunch and figure out what to wear.

The bowl had just hit the sink when a knock came at your door. You looked at the clock on the microwave puzzled, once again why was someone here, you thought. Last time you had an unexpected guest, she came with a hoard of gifts, so you weren’t totally nervous this time around.

Your door swung open, and you gasped when you saw Francisco on the other side. He was fully dressed in black dress shoes, black pants with a matching blazer and a deep green button down. You swiftly looked down at yourself; a mismatched pajama set and your damn slippers.

“Hi.” You sputtered out.

He smiled, “Hey hermosa,” he stepped in and kissed your cheek before walking into your apartment.

Closing the door behind you, you ask “Isn’t our date not until later?”

He nodded, “Yes, but you still needed to get ready for the date, right?”

“Right.” You shrugged, looking down at your clothes.

“Right, so let’s go. Grab your new purse and your phone. You shouldn’t need anything else. I’m just going to use your washroom really quick, and we’ll go.” he nodded towards the other side of your apartment.

He disappeared into the hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom, and you looked around stunned. Okay, you thought, let’s just go with the flow. You’re sure he has a plan for all this. You kicked off your slippers and slid on some boots, stuffing your phone into your purse.

He returned, adjusting his jacket, and smiles at you. “You look beautiful by the way.” He gives you a gentle kiss before grabbing the door.

You scoff at his probable joke, but follow him, nonetheless.

When you get downstairs, you’re met with a vintage Ford Mustang sitting in front of your apartment building. He stepped forward and opened the door for you before taking your hand and helping you ease down into the car.

He joined you inside and fired up the engine, pulling onto the not so busy street considering it was Christmas.

“Where are we going anyway? I’m hardly dressed for whatever occasion you have planned.”

He glances over at you with a knowing smirk, “You know I can’t tell you that sweetheart. Don’t want to ruin the surprises. And actually, you look perfect for where we are going.”

The car finally came to a halt in front of a luxury salon that you’ve only dreamed of going to.

You gasped, “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see.” He winks as he gets out of the car and rounds the front of it to open your door. He then leads you hand in hand to the entrance.

“I don’t think they’re open it’s Christmas.” You said nervously.

He chuckled, “Don’t worry, I made special arrangements.”

He flung the unlocked door open and gestured to you inside. You were met with a beautiful salon that had antique mirrors and beautiful light pink chairs. A woman with black hair and all black outfit was sitting at the desk and greeted you with a kind smile.

“Merry Christmas Maria, how are you? You know I owe you for this one, right?” Francisco asked, leaning on the desk.

She smiled up to him, “I’m good, and yes yes you do. Ms. if you’d like to follow me, we’ll get started.”

Your eyes widen at Francisco, but he nods to assure you it’s okay.

A few minutes later you emerge from the back in a silk pink robe and the softest slippers you’ve ever felt in your life. He was waiting patiently in one of the salon chairs. You then spent the next few hours getting your nails painted, your makeup and hair done. All the while, sipping champagne, eating chocolate covered strawberries and chatting with Francisco. He didn’t leave your side even once. Constantly complimenting you and grabbing your hand to pepper kisses on it whenever Maria wasn’t looking. He made you laugh so hard your chest hurt and you got a brief scolding from her to keep still, which earned you a juvenile look from Francisco.

“Alright, I think you’re ready to get dressed. What do you think Mr. Morales?” she looked to him after finishing up your hair.

“She’s breathtaking.” he said under his breath but still loud enough for you both to hear.

You blushed and rose from the chair to follow Maria to a back area where there was a curtained changing room with a large mirror in it. The curtains swung closed behind you before you could notice the hangers on the wall. There was a long black evening dress, a pair of black heels and a woven trench coat. You stepped forward to admire the dress, it was strapless and had a slit down the left front of it. It was simple and elegant. You looked down at the bench where the shoes were and noticed a black box. Popping the top off it, your eyes widened when you were met with a strapless lace black bra and panties set. Your eyebrows popped up, realizing your date might not be as wholesome as you thought he was. He was a man after all. You held the bra in your hand loosely, and it created an ache in your core. Your mind drifted off to the thought of wearing this in front of him and he rubbing his hands all over you. Worshipping your body as you know he’d do. You finally snapped yourself out of it and got changed.

You took last look of yourself in the mirror and stuffed your clothes and shoes into the bag Maria had left for you. Grabbing the coat off the hanger you tip toed out of the curtains. When you emerged from the back Francisco was standing in the room still, he turned swiftly when he heard the sound of your heels on the hardwood floors.

He clapped his hand over his heart as you approached, and you smiled. “Be still my beating heart, you look amazing.” He grabbed your hand and spun you around before snapping you close to his chest.

You beamed up at him and offered a soft kiss, which he graciously accepted.  “Where to now Romeo?”

“Tsk tsk, always trying to ruin the surprises. Also, you have one more thing for this outfit.”

You looked at him puzzled as he opened his suit jacket and pulled out the Louis Vuitton bracelet box from the inside pocket. Your eyes widened with his sneakiness. “Where did you get that?”

“Swiped it from your dresser when I said I was in the bathroom.” He chuckled, before helping you clasp each bracelet on your wrists.

You both said your thanks to Maria and returned to his car.

The city swiftly disappeared, and you became very much aware of your whereabouts; you were headed to the airport.

Your stunned face must’ve stayed on you the entire time. Peppering Francisco with continuous, what’s and how’s. Until finally you found yourself walking on the tarmac towards a private helicopter, owned by him of course.

He got you up and settled into the passenger seat when you suddenly looked confused. “Wait where are you gonna sit?”

He winked at you, “Don’t worry I’m right here with you sweetheart.” As he climbed into the pilot’s seat. You watched in awe as he got his headset on and got the helicopter ready for flight. He signaled to the tower that he was ready to go and steadily pulled off the ground. You grabbed his thigh with your hand as you tried to calm your nerves.

The two of you toured around the city, the sun was slowly setting as you made your way into the countryside. He pointed out a golf course in the distance and you noticed a helicopter pad near the greens. He set the helicopter down effortlessly and got you both set to get out. He hopped out the door and reached up to take you by the waist to carry you down to the ground.

You walked hand in hand towards the building where a man was waiting, he gestured you both to follow inside. Once inside, you were taken to a stunning ballroom. It had high ceilings with chandeliers situated in multiple spots. Every surface was adorned with Christmas lights and tall ten-foot decorated trees stood in each corner of the room. There was a single table with roses by the far wall with a fireplace. Simple orchestrated music sounded through the speakers and Fransisco pulled your chair out for you as you sat down.

“I honestly can’t believe you’ve done all this; it feels like a fairytale.” You gushed as he poured you a glass of wine.

He smiled at you, “Well hermosa, I just wanted to take today to treat you how you have always deserved to be treated. I didn’t come from money and I know you didn’t either. But one thing I’ve learned is that if you can spoil someone, you should. If you can use physical things to show someone how much you care about them, then you can. It doesn’t need to be this materialistic thing, and I knew from the beginning that, that none of this would matter if you didn’t have feelings for me too.”

You nodded intently with him, “I do, I really do have feelings for you Francisco. I- I don’t know what it is but I’m just so attracted to you in every way I know that I’m supposed to be.”

Smiles radiating off of each other, a waiter approached with a silver plate with a matching covering on top.

“For the lady.” He said, pulling back the top, to reveal a Tiffany jewelry box.

You gasped and looked at Francisco who was beaming at you. The waiter took the box and handed it to Francisco before leaving.

“I know, I know. I’m too much, you’re gonna say.” You smiled at him, holding your hands to your chest. “But I think too much is better than not enough so, I got you one more thing tonight to truly complete the beautiful look you you’ve got going on right now.” He popped the box open and pulled out a gold and diamond necklace.

Your face dropped as he rose from his seat. You held your hair up as he reached around your body, clicking it in place and letting it fall comfortably on your chest. You set your hair down and ran your hands along the jewelry.

“Thank you, this really is amazing. I wish I could do something to repay all your generosity.”

“Your smile is payment enough hermosa.”

Your heart warmed and you reached your hand across the table to take his. He pulled it up and pressed a firm kiss to your knuckles.

The waiter returned with the beautiful Christmas dinner. Fit with roast beef, mashed potatoes, gravy, veggies, and you ate and laughed together. Everything was delicious you and thought about how this could be your life every day. You could sip wine and eat amazing food with a deliriously sweet man and his beautiful daughter.

Your plates have been cleared and you took a deep breath, looking at him earnestly.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asked.

You huffed, “I just, I like you I do. I really do. But I feel like I need to know more about what the future would hold if we were to take this step.”

He nodded, “Do you have any questions in mind?”

Leaning on the table you tapped your fingers to your chin, running through all the possibilities the next 30 years could hold should you end up together. “Do you want any more kids?” You ask.

“No, I think I’m past that. Do you?” he asked, slightly nervous.

You shook your head, “No, I like kids, I mean I have to for my job. But I don’t really need any of my own. But I love Liliana, don’t think I wouldn’t be so so happy to be a part of her life.”

He smiled and nodded.

“When do you think you are going to retire?” You asked, sipping from your wine.

“Well, I can technically do that anytime, but probably in less than 10 years. I do enjoy getting out and having a routine still.” He stretched into his seat as he could tell this could take a while.

You bounced questions back and forth to one another for a while, and continued to be surprised by how well your lives could actually line up with one another. There was just one thing that you couldn’t get off your mind.

“Okay, last question because I think it’s gonna be a doozy.” He nodded, leaning his elbows on the table so he could listen more intently to you. “You never told me what you did before you had this company, or really any stories from before that or before Liliana was born. Why is that?” Your voice grew quieter with each word, fearful of what he may say.

His head dipped slightly, and he rubbed his chin with his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you awaited his response.

“So, I grew up here in Texas, didn’t have a lot of money so the only real career prospects I had was in the military. I enlisted right out of high school. Spent the next, 15 years I guess as a pilot for special forces. Got out, circumstances changed, had to get back in and then the money I received as payment for a final job allowed me to buy that company. It allowed me to set myself, and my daughter, up for a good life. I didn’t do the best things to get that money, but it has been worth it, so far at least.” His eyes looked sad, he was suddenly nothing like the suave and confident man that had strutted into your classroom all those months ago.

He looked at you like you may completely disappear on him; he reached his hand out, “Sweetheart, talk to me. Please.”

You looked at his hand, taking in everything he just told you. He was such a kind man and had treated you so well in every way possible. He clearly had some broken pieces of himself still inside, but who’s to say you’re not the one to mend those pieces.

Just as he was about to give up hope and pull his hand back, you leapt from your seat and rushed to his side. He quickly followed your lead and stood up to you. Your eyes met his with an intense heat, you looked down at his lips and lunged yourself forward into him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you flung yours around his neck. His tongue pecked at your lips, and you gladly opened them to allow yourselves to deepen and lick your tongues against each other’s. He pulled his mouth free and rested his forehead against yours.

“Are we doin’ this sweetheart?” he asks, breathing deeply.

You swallowed hard, and then nodded your head against his.

The biggest smile you’d ever seen grew on his face and he latched himself back onto you with a passionate moan.

 He took you back to his place and you ended up in the living room, still dressed to the nines with champagne and chocolate cake. He had undone the top buttons of his dress shirt, exposing his chest. You drank your champagne and stared at his skin, trying desperately not to reach out and touch it. At this point, you’d had not just a little bit, but a lot a bit of champagne and were really feeling it in your core. Even as he sat before you, explaining what he does on an average day in the office or on a site, you nodded as if you were paying attention, but not a single word was entering your ears as you noticed again how broad his shoulders were.

“So, my head contractor Mike, he,”

“You look comfortable.” You blurted out, taking him by surprise. He looked at you confused, you pointed lazily to his chest, to which he looked down and huffed out a laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.” He said with a wink, noticing how your eyes stayed still on his exposed skin. “Are you comfortable or would you like me to find you something to wear?”

You popped your eyebrows up at his question, “Yeah, fuck. That would be great I’d love to get out of this thing.” You downed the rest of your champagne and stood up from the couch.

He followed your lead and grabbed your hand. You went up behind him on the staircase in the entry way to the bedrooms.

The hallway had doors on doors on doors. You followed him to the one at the very end of the hallway and gasped as he swung it open. The bed was definitely a California King and had a fluffy cream comforter on it with a few pillows scattered on top. The walls had paintings of planes and helicopters, a little out of place from the rest of the house, but more his style. You nearly tripped when you ran to the right side of the room and poked your head into the huge closet. It was only half full of his suits and dress shirts, some jeans stacked neatly on top of the dresser.

“Holy shit, I wanna live in this closet.” You exclaimed.

He laughed, “Well, there’s plenty of room still in there for ya.”

You looked back at him, remembering why you wanted to come up here in the first place. It was not to figure out how to organize your shoes in the closet that’s for sure.

Swaying your hips you returned to him standing near the bed. “Can you get my zipper for me?”

He swallowed deeply, looking you up and down. “I think I can manage.”

With a shit eating grin on your face, you turned and moved your hair off your back, collecting it in your hands.

You felt his warm hands touch the top of your back and you shivered at the feeling. Then, your zipper could be felt slowly making its way down until it hit the bottom, just above your ass.

You turned coyly, keeping the dress up by holding it to your breasts. He stood looking down at you, eyes darkening, waiting. You slowly pulled your hands free from the material and helped it shrug down your body, finally stepping out of it.

He took a step back, admiring your body in the lingerie that had been set out for you. “Damn it hermosa, you’re gonna be the death of me, aren’t you?”

You snickered, reaching out, you grabbed his suit jacket and pulled him back to you, peeling the jacket off his shoulders. He threw it to the side and tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his pants. You popped your eyebrows up and leaned in for a kiss. You made quick work unbuttoning his shirt as your tongue swept around his mouth. Undoing the last button, he pulled it off his shoulder and past his wrists. You ran your hands down his bare chest and started nipping at his jaw. He smiled into you, caressing your body with his hands before swiftly pulling you up into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning down to plant a kiss on his open mouth. He turned towards the bed and threw you down onto it. You landed with a laugh and winked at him, making a come here signal with your finger.

He smirked and climbed onto the bed on top of you, slotting one of his thighs between your legs. Desperately lapping each other up you could’ve kissed for hours, but he had better plans for you.

Kissing your neck slowly he moved down your body to your breasts, pulling at the fabric of the bra and allowing one of them to fall out. He grunted lowly before latching on. Biting and swirling your nipple in his mouth, you moaned loudly, and he slid a hand under your back, pulling you up so your aching core was rubbing against his thigh. Your nipple popped out of his mouth, and he looked at you with hungry eyes. You leaned forward to slip your hands under your back and unclasp the bra, throwing it who knows where.

His mouth continued down until it reached the top of your panties grabbing them ferociously with his teeth. His hands took them swiftly and yanked the material down your legs. He stood above you, basking in your bare body and dripping core.

“Fuck me.” Francisco hummed to himself.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You replied, giving him a smirk.

Biting his lip he looked down at your pussy, and fell to his stomach to line his mouth up with your entrance. You let out a desperate moan as he slipped his tongue between your folds and licked up into your clit. His technique was incredible, completely undoing you in minutes. Sucking and licking with precision. You were so wet that sounds coming off his tongue were intoxicating.

“Just like that baby, fuck- yes don’t stop, Franc-,” you moaned, hands reaching back to grab the pillow behind you.

With a few more swipes from his tongue and a nudge at your clit from his nose you fell undone under him. Your moan shocked even you and his face never wavered as he let you ride it out on his tongue.

You finally felt your head stop spinning, thinking he would be done when you felt him double down. Your back arched as his two fingers slid inside your dripping pussy. He curled his one finger inside, flicking it out onto your clit while he kissed your thigh. You grabbed the chocolate curls on his head and whined. You didn’t think it could get any better when all of sudden both of hands came to your core and with a finger hooked in you on either side, pulled your sore pussy open to allow his tongue entrance. You felt his warm tongue in parts of you that you never knew one could reach and instantly cried out as your next orgasm not only flowed through you, but all over his face. You squirted on his tongue and beard as he still let you ride out your high.

Coming to a still, you tried to regulate your breathing. He pulled himself up from you and wiped his mouth with his hand, smirking at you. You rose as quickly as your trembling legs would let you onto your knees and licked into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue. Grabbing his belt, you undid it and pulled it free before unbuttoning his pants and motioning for him to take them off.

Francisco backed off the bed and pulled his pants, boxers and socks off before returning to you. Your eyes widened not only at the length but the girth he had. He was the biggest you had ever seen in person. You took his length in your hand and offered a few casual strokes, earning a groan from him. In one fell swoop he grabbed your thighs and threw you back on the bed, head hitting the pillows behind you. He laid down between your open thighs and rubbed them.

“Do you have any condoms?” You asked.

“Well, I actually got a vasectomy a few years back and I’m clean so unless,” he replied, gauging your response.

You nodded, “Yeah I’m clean too.”

He smiled and leaned down, pecking your lips with a feverish kiss.

Grabbing his length, he lines up with your entrance before slowly pushing into you. You grab his shoulders to sturdy yourself as the stretch overtakes you. It both burns and feels amazing at the same time. He pushes the rest of himself into your aching pussy and looks at you with heat filled eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so tight hermosa. Feels s’fucking good.”

You nod as he starts moving his hips into yours. You grunt as he picks up the pace, rocking deep into you. “Ugh b-baby.”

He huffs, “Is that really what you wanna call me?”

You looked at him puzzled.

Smiling he says, “You, know. I know that nick name the teachers gave me.” Your eyebrows popped up, “Daddy Morales? You ever called me that?”

Smirking, you shake your head, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sensations building inside you.

“Maybe I want you to call me that, huh?”

“Want me to call you daddy?” you ask with a devilish grin.

He looks down at your body beneath him as he rocks deep into you. “Yeah, I do, I really do.”

You reach your body up and whisper in his ear, “Make me want to.” Nipping his ear with your teeth you laid your body back down and rolled your hands on his chest.

He let out a deep growl and pulled out of you. He flipped you over onto your stomach and slotted your legs together, situating himself with his thighs on either side of you. His hands slid beneath your hips and tugged them up, so your ass was slanted, exposing your already puffy pussy from between your legs. He slid back inside you and squeezed your ass.

The force he had from behind was insatiable, pounding insensately into you. The bracelets and necklace that you still wore banged against your skin with the movement. You felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten again as the over stimulation washed over you. He slapped your ass sharply and you let out a moan. A few more deep plunges and you were launched into your third orgasm.

You grabbed the sheets beneath you and screamed, “Oh fuck daddy yes! Ugh, daddy fuck me!”

He grunted and spilled himself inside you, swelling to an unimaginably bigger size, causing your orgasm to linger and spin your head until you both fell exhausted.

Panting on your shoulder, he let out a huffed laugh, “Fuck, that was so fucking hot.”

He pulled himself out of you and you whimpered at the emptiness you suddenly felt. You did your best to catch your breath and slink out of the bed, grabbing the tossed aside panties and retreating to the ensuite on the opposite side of the room from then the closet.

When you returned, Francisco was lying in bed with his bare chest still out, resting his arm over his eyes. You smiled and jumped onto the bed before sliding under the covers and resting your head on him.

He hummed, “That was really something sweetheart. I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of that.”

Giggling to yourself, you replied, “Yeah, I think you’re pretty much stuck with me now. I don’t think I can find head like that anywhere else.”

He grinned and squeezed your shoulder with his hand, still smelling slightly like you.

“Alright, let’s get some shut eye. I’m a lot older than you and it is way past my bedtime.”

You swatted at him playfully but leaned into him to rest your eyes.

“Merry Christmas sweetheart.” He said, planting a loving kiss to your head.

“Merry Christmas daddy.”

February came and you had officially left your job. A part of you was sad, but that didn’t last long as you spent more and more time with Francisco and Liliana over the last month and grew even closer to them. In celebration of your relationship being official, he rented a box at the Dallas Stars hockey game the first Saturday after your exit from Long Horn Academy.

You were waiting patiently in your apartment for him to arrive when you felt a buzz in your pocket and his name light up with a “here” text. You were wearing leggings, Converse, a simple hoodie and you threw a denim jacket over top as you left. Your Chanel purse draped over your shoulder of course.

Your eyes were met with a blinding light as you stepped into the parking lot of your apartment building. You looked around confused, as you didn’t see his Mustang anywhere. You were about to reach into your hoodie pocket for your phone when you heard a honk and glanced up. There was a passenger side window rolled down of a cherry red Range Rover over to your right, with a certain someone waiving you over.

Leaning into the window you asked, “Who’s is this?

“It’s yours hermosa.” he said confidently.

Your eyes widened, “What?”

“Get in.” He nodded to you.

Your mouth fell open as you climbed in and looked around at the stunning leather interior.

Francisco was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt with white running shoes, by far one of the most casual outfits you’ve ever seen him in.

You reached over and hugged him. “Thank you, this is amazing Francisco baby.”

He smiled, “You know, I know I told you Mr. Morales makes me feel old, but to be honest hermosa. Francisco makes me feel REALLY old.” He said with a chuckle.

You looked taken aback but smirked, “Okay, well now what am I supposed to call you?”

He glanced into the back seat and reached his right arm back. You watched as he pulled a baseball hat with a Standard Oil logo laden across the front and popped it firmly on his head, “Just call me Frankie.” 

@rmwarn90

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch. 27

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Charles is having a couple of drinks on a night out with his crew after a successful practice. Carlos is clapping him on the back and poking fun at him (as usual), bringing up the challenge the two drivers had done earlier in the evening, where Carlos had won. Beer is being passed around and glasses are clinking. There’s an air of freedom and joy being shared with the Scuderia Ferrari family. 

“So, Charles, tell me, man, how’s it going with that new chick?”, asks Carlos, very much out of the blue. 

Caught off-guard and choking on his drink, Charles sputters. “Fine! Stop prying into my life guys. And she’s my girlfriend, not ‘a chick’!”

This makes Carlos raise an eyebrow. “Wow. You must be very serious about her to come to her defense like that…”

“I am”

“Well, that’s great! She just passed my test. Anyway. Rebecca has been planning a girls' night out with a few of the other driver’s women. Care to ask Y/n if she’d like to join?”

Just as Charles is about to answer, he feels his phone buzz. Well, that’s got to be you because he switched off all notifications from everyone except you and his family– the latter hardly texting him on Friday nights. 

Charles, I know you’re out with friends, and I really didn’t want to bother you. 

But what am I supposed to wear to the dinner tomorrow? 

Maybe I’m not ready to meet your family. Is it too late to back out? God, I think I might throw up, I’m so nervous.

Charles excuses himself from the table, signaling that he’ll be outside taking a call.

Your phone rings on the kitchen counter while you pace anxiously. “Chéri—”

“Charles, I’m so sorry for interrupting your night out… I’m just– Really, really freaking out. I mean, this is your mother we’re talking about. She might already hate me, what if I show up in something that makes her hate me even more?”

“Sweetheart, calm down. I’ve already told you that my mother is the one who is excited to meet you. And just wear something casual, dinner should be a comfortable matter.”

“Okay”, you exhale, trying to slow your heart. “Alright, casual. But what kind of– You know what? What if I send you some pictures of options and you tell me which is the best to wear tomorrow?”

You hear him chuckle over the phone. “Stop laughing at me! This is serious!”

“Yes, of course, Chéri. No, I don’t mind you sending me pictures.”

He hears a rustling from your line. You must be going through your closet right now. 

“Love, do you mind if I go back to hanging out with my boys now? I’ll cut the call.”

“Oh! Oh, of course! I’m so sorry. Yeah, go have fun, and pretend I didn’t even call and interrupt. Sorry. Bye!”

…

Carlos keeps an eye on Charles from inside the tiny bar Ferrari has rented. He seemed to be listening to the person on the other side of the call, smiling and laughing. Ah, he must be on call with his new girlfriend.

Carlos hadn’t ever seen Charles this affected by a girl, and none of his past girlfriends ever made him smile so much. He looked… Happy. Happy with you, about you, around you. Just Happy. Carlos smiled at the thought. Lord knows that Charles deserved some real happiness after all the fronts he’d had to put up. His heart warmed. Yeah, you would be a great addition to this tight-knit family of drivers. 

…

On Saturday, you end up wearing a pair of jeans and a sleeveless, flowy, cotton top. Charles picks you up in his Ferrari (because he doesn’t have any normal cars, duh) and you make your way to his childhood home. 

Stepping out and grabbing the door for you, you exit the car and take a few deep breaths, the nervousness kicking in once again. You feel him reach for your hand, thumb rubbing the skin of your knuckles soothingly, and lifting it to press a kiss to them. “Let’s go Chéri.”

Nodding, you follow him into his first home. 

“Maman! I’m here!”

“Ahhh, which one are you again?”, a playful response comes.

“The middle child, Maman…”

You hear laughter coming from a different room. Then footsteps to the room you and Charles are in. A petite lady walks into the room and rushes to Charles and presses kisses to his cheeks, and he returns them in kind.

“I missed you, my boy. How have you been? And where is the girl? I told you to bring her today, no?”

“Missed you too Maman, and I’ve been great. Here”, Charles brings you forward by the grip of your hand. “My girlfriend, Y/n.”

Mme. Leclerc regards you carefully for a minute, and you feel as though you are a bug that’s been placed under a microscope, feeling her eyes scrutinize you head-to-toe.

Then she leans forward and you exchange greeting kisses. “Bonjour Mme (Madame) Leclerc. I’m so honored to meet you”, you say, praying that your voice doesn’t tremble.

She cuts you off shortly and gives you a tight hug. “I am so glad to finally meet the young woman who has managed to completely enamor my boy”, she says and immediately, you feel a weight lift from your chest. She doesn’t hate you.

“I must say, you are quite a beauty, Perceval here did not do any justice to your appearance when he ranted to me about you for two hours earlier this week.”

Flushing, you turn to glare at Charles, who doesn’t meet your gaze because he’s busy glaring at his own mother. When he turns to you his eyes widen in fright. We will talk about this later, your eyes seem to tell him. 

“Well child, come join the rest of us in the dining room, why don’t you? And please, call me Pascale.”

Grinning at your boyfriend, whose expression softens at the mention of the rest of his family, you follow him to the dining room.

[dust-jacket-analysis]

One of the more frustrating things about miraculous is that it could be so well written.

(Spoilers, duh)

Like... we see instances of good and nuanced writing. We see it in the episodes of Chloe's (wasted) redemption arc (still not over it). We see it in the realistic ways Marinette Copes with the trauma and pressure of being a superhero at 13/14. Just everything to do with the Agrestes' is so good (it really deserved to be in a show with a TV 14 rating or higher IMO).

It's in the way Marinette and Chat Noir foil/juxtapose each other. Marinette's Kwami is the Kwami of creation, Adrien's is the Kwami of destruction. Marinette is trapped and overwhelmed with the responsibilities of her hero life, Adrien finds freedom in it.

These things PROVE that the writers are capable of writing a good show. Proves that they could if they really wanted to. And I don't know why they don't want too. Or why the fumble it every chance they get.

Even the nuggets of good writing in the love square show it (and is then wasted, a separate post entirely).

But then the writers do things like Chloe's character assassination and the sloppy way they write in Zoe (I love her but that was a hot mess).

The numerous identity reveals only to be taken back through time. Just the way they generally drag that out is absurd. An Identity reveal wouldn't make the show less interesting. In fact, it'd introduce a whole bunch of new conflicts that would make the show MORE interesting. We could watch as Ladybug and Chat Noire navigate being in a relationship and fighting Akuma's (or whatever new threat there is). Trying not to let their protectiveness of each other get in the way of their duties as Paris's superheroes. Maybe see them try and hide their relationship when they're in their superhero persona's so no one can exploit that in each other. Or they don't and have a whole plot line geared towards the media harassment they face as a result of being Paris's new number one couple (tie it into Adrien and how he's had to deal with media harassment all his life? Show the unhealthy effects of that, and also show how Marinette has to learn to cope with it).

The Hawkmoth reveal could've been devastating. Watching them fight, watching both of them realize who he is. Adrien having to try and pick himself up and keep fighting, Marinette realizing how he must be feeling and trying to take on more of the burden. The impacts of both of those things after.

I will say I like the way it was handled in the show given what we had so far. I like how many secrets Marinette has to keep from Adrien. I really want to see how she copes with that much of a burden. And eventually, I'm excited to see what happens when he learns how much is being kept from him. How he copes with that, and how that effects and warps their relationship.

I really do just wish Miraculous would take advantage of its premise more. Of the love square it set up and the lore it has to explore. But it's held back by being a kid's show. it floats in between, trying to cater to its majority audience (teens and young adults) and its original but minority audience (kids). It has dark premises but is too formulaic to take advantage of those premises. It has the potential for an extremely nuanced dynamic in the love square but doesn't take advantage of it because of how it (once again) needs to be formulaic.

I also wish it would lean more into maturing with its audience. We see it start to do that in seasons 3+ but it still teeters the edge between kid's show and young adult show (that children could watch because it doesn't have sex or swearing or anything). It's been on for almost a decade, everything who was originally watching is all grown up. So acknowledge that and let your show grow up with them.

I do have hopes for the new season and the London special. I think the writers are finally becoming more plot-heavy and realizing who the audience they have is. Rather than the audience they were aiming for. But it aches to think of all the content we could've had if the writers had been on their game the whole time. Instead, we have a loveable, lacking, sloppy mess of a show that has gripped my soul. The hyperfixation is real.

[swndmehelp]

Fallout oc dummmmp :)) it’s gonna be a lot like my Dragon age one just will fallout. Under the cut because there’s a ton, idc if people read it or not I just need to empty my brain because I’ve been thinking about them again.

Zia Miller:

My favorite one, she’s my Fallout 3 character. She’s definitely shy, mostly because of how she was bullied in the vault and how she was basically alone most the time other than her father, Jonas, and Amata (I don’t remember how to spell her name and idc).

Obviously she’s alone most of the time until she gathers her companions. So a little about her vault life, I like to think James (dad) was a bit of a workaholic, he’d spend late nights at the lab for his experiments and such, of course I’m not saying he’s neglecting Zia, he just works a lot. He also pushed Zia to be the best student she could be, she got her smarts from both her parents duh. I like to think instead of her looking a lot like James she looks like her mother (Catherine). She’s obviously close with Jonas, looking up to him, he’s basically like the sibling she never got in which she deserves one but at last, not happening (rip Jonas he was my fav NPC other than Gob). Then Amata, GRRRR I hate her. She is the absolute worse friend ever and no one can tell be otherwise, she makes you deal with Butch and the bully��s then just stands there when you get your butt kicks, honestly, I’m pretty sure Zia was desperate for friends and Amata was really the only option. Finally Butch, in the Vault she hated him, he’s meaaaan to her, bully, out of the Vault it’s the classic enemies to lovers trope that we all love.

Okay, so companions in game I really only traveled with Charon, Dogmeat, Fawkes, Star Paladin Cross, and Butch. I never traveled Clover, RL-33 or whatever its name was, or Jericho. I know a bit about the characters so I’ll just pretend I did end up traveling with them, I just never encountered or had the right Karma requirement to travel with them.

So Charon is obviously the bodyguard, she doesn’t treat him like one, she never asks him to do anything for her so she tries to be nice to him. Zia LOVES Dogmeat, I feel like all my hero’s of the wasteland are just dog people, Jem is an exception. Fawkes is a good companions, he listens and is pretty good in a fight, Zia definitely likes discussing different books or history with him. Cross is like a mom to her, obviously she didn’t know her mom so any motherly figure is good enough for Zia, Cross is also just good to travel with. Butch, like I said enemies to lovers thing going on, I love him a lot he’s just a dork and I like him a lot better when he leaves the vault rather than in it. Clover uhh, she probably gets a little uncomfortable with the pet names, like lover and stuff like that, but she tries and gets Clover to get out of that mind (idk if it works I barely write these two together), she also takes that bomb collar off her because she deserves a little freedom. She is terrified of RL-33, she just doesn’t like getting yelled at and definitely cries when it yells at her :(. Finally Jericho, um, she also rarely travels with him, I feel like she’d like him better if he was less mean and all that but I feel like he might get a little soft spot for her.

I like a little found family, but they all hate each other but get along only for Zia’s sake. Anyways, Zia’s got major survivors guilt after James’ death, rip dad. She’s now got both Mommy and Daddy issues Horray!! I feel like she’d be mad at her dad for leave up until he died, then feel bad for making him die thinking that she’s still mad at him.

Definitely didn’t do the Enclave, so she sided with the BoS. After all, the Enclave is the reason her dad died :)

Courier Six:

Six! Six! Six! The mailman with brain damage! Obviously I love him, love writing angst for this mess of a man. He hides his struggles with his humor and everyone just kinda goes along with it thinking it’s due to the brain damage. I feel like after a while the companions would obviously see through it but that’s only when they get to know him.

So companions, I feel like for all the games is kind of like a found family kind of thing. I feel like the found family started here when Six shoved all of them inside the Lucky 38 and just runs off to cause chaos all over the Mojave. Anyways, so I’ve traveled with all the companions in this one, Arcade, Boone, Cass, Veronica, Lily, Raul, Rex, and ED-E (and of course the dead money DLC companions Dean, Christine, and Dog/God).

So Arcade and Six are kind of together, I like to think that Arcade at first started traveling with Six because he felt bad and knew Six would get himself into stupid shit if he didn’t help him, but then once he started to know the man he started to fall for him or whatever idk how to write people falling in love. Anyways, Six loves Arcade and normally travels with him, it’s also nice to have a doctor to travel with you. Boone, my emo egg, Six feels bad about his wife of course or at least pretends to, he always enjoys having Boone around and whatever Boone says they are the bestest of friends (or at least in Six’s eyes they are). Cass, I’ll be honest I barely traveled with her only to get her quests for EXP anyways, good drinking buddy but Six isn’t normally allowed to drink (Arcade and Raul rule), sometimes Cass manages to sneak Six drinks though. Veronica is awesome in Six’s eyes, loves traveling with her and always finds her amusing, he loves her jokes :), one of the three that helps Six makes important decisions but that’s on rare occasions when there’s a disagreement between Arcade and Raul. Lily is grandma and Six loves hanging out with her, Raul is grandpa and loves hearing his stories, he just lives his grandparents. ED-E he loves, Six just loves everyone I think it’s impossible for him to hate anyone, I think he also just like having ED-E around because it gets a reaction out of Arcade. And Rex, the whole groups favorite dog <3.

Soo Benny. Six doesn’t hate Benny, he barely remembers him, he only knows that’s who shot him because people keep telling him and reminding him. I really think Six is incapable of hating anyone, at least to anyone’s knowledge.

Six has bad memory problems, constantly having to get reminded of things. He also shouldn’t be left to made important decisions, that’s what Arcade and Raul are for. He really just does what they say and call it a day. During Dead Money he listened to all the companions, Dean, Christine, and God.

He decided to do an independent Vegas, the first real choice he made by himself but also because Arcade mentioned it a few times and side it would be better for everyone.

Jem:

She’s the other fnv oc I made a while ago and I just kinda kept her. I feel like if she were a companion she’d be the only one Six wouldn’t get along with, she’s mute (not like Christine, she never gains her voice back) so he doesn’t understand her, she’s also just super mean. But there’s a twist, she’s part of Six’s past which is another reason why they don’t like each other.

I’m still working on the details of the backstory but what I got so far is that Jem and Six were a thing before he made the delivery in which he got shot and never returned. Jem was obviously alone for a bit and thought Six left her or ran off with someone or whatever idk. Anyways, she ended up getting sold to the Legion and was tortured and made a slave, only reason she’s not anymore is because of Six saving her. Obviously he can remember her and she didn’t bother trying to convince him they did know each other.

Oh, she also ends up getting with Boone because I said so and I like it when two angsty people get together. She obviously moved on from Sox a while ago too. I’ll post more when I finalize the backstory.

Nora Colón:

Finally, the mom in which didn’t save her son and watched her husband get killed right in front of her. The woman out of time.

So obviously Nora is a pretty moody as a character, no nonsense type of person. She’s a good person, just with everything that happened before the start of the game and during the prologue it had hardened her and made her an angry and sad person.

I feel like she gets along with all the companions. She also lies to the companions for a long time up until she goes to the Institute, saying that she was just some random person from the wasteland that had her baby stolen, not mentioning anything about her husband. I feel like the only companion to really know what happened was Deacon because he’s weird like that.

So Nick or Peepaw, is her favorite, she finds comfort in him and just enjoys talking with him, he is a massive father figure. Hancock is fun, Codsworth doesn’t like him because of him doing chems and that stuff and he doesn’t want it to influence Nora. Nora finds him okay though, tries not to drink with him though (she’s a recovering alcoholic). Ugh Preston, she likes him just hates how much work he makes her do, she’s a stressed woman and he just stresses her out more with all that settlement work omg. Danse, adores him but will never admit it, she felt so bad during blind betrayal, obviously she saved him without a question. Codsworth she loves, one of the good things about her past and she’s happy he’s still around, even if he is rather picky about what she does. Cait, Curie, and Piper, she likes them all just Cait and Piper is a bit too much for her and Curie… she’s just too nice, what reason does she have to be that nice. Deacon, obviously doesn’t trust him at first but eventually warms up to him, even laughs at a few of his jokes after a while. MacCready she baby’s, motherly instincts kicks in when she’s around him and always scolds him when she catches him smoking (she smokes but he’s also young sooo).

I don’t think she’d have survivors guilt, she didn’t really care for her husband. She definitely hated herself for killing Shaun but the synth boy scared the hell out of her, plus he wouldn’t grow. She’ll always regret not being able to see Shaun grow up without the influence of the institute or his father. Also gets upset when Shaun says his father was just collateral damage even if she didn’t like her husband she wouldn’t say that.

She sided with either the railroad or the minutemen. She doesn’t like the BoS and definitely doesn’t like the institute.

[lesbiangummybearmafia]

The Gilded Age season 2, episode 1: You Don't Even Like Opera spoliers...

First I have say I'm so happy The Gilded Age is back! I've waiting since they showed us the teaser for season 2, thought I'd lose my mind. But finally...

I'm so glad to see Bertha there in all her glory. Reminding, re-reminding, annoying, giving a headache to especially Mrs. Astor and showing them all they need to be falling under her reign. I definitely think that lovely surprise at the end of her dinner helped greatly. Mrs. Astor was squirming like worm on hook. Which I personally couldn't been happier about. Because some time in first season I completely fell under Bertha's spell I'm good with that still. It's not just that she's attractive because well duh, but it's that she's cunning, brilliant, devilish, crazy intelligent, 6 steps at least a head of anyone else, always has plan, suffers no fools, old money/new money she'll can take you down faster then you snap your fingers. But I do think she's a loyal friend and a good person to those who prove to that her too. So I have very deep affection for her character.

My heart went out to Peggy and her Mom that they didn't get to her son in time. That whole arch just put me in tears time and again. To get that close to her son only to lose him like that was just cruel. I really want to see happiness for her character. I still will never be ok with what her father did but I understand a little more why he did it. Especially back then, they have soften his character which helps to see where he may have been coming from trying to protect his daughter. It would be nice to see Peggy as some point have a relationship with her father again. Her father know the pain he has caused to both his wife and daughter. It's easy to the guilt and pain he himself is feeling.

Same for Marian after what happened last season, I hated watching her fall in love for first time to that low life who didn't deserve her. I doubt it would happen but I think her and Bertha's son Larry would make a wonderful couple. He definitely likes her, we seen that last season. I just like to see happiness for her. I really think Aunt Agnes needs get over Marian teaching water painting to upper class girls at a private school one day a week. Give me a break, it's so not a big deal. Even for back than it's shouldn't be a big deal.

I have such a I like her/I dislike her relationship with Aunt Agnes. All last season I was like this omg one moment I wanted smack her upside the head and next I was nodding my head agreeing with her. I feel it may be another season of that with her.

Then there's Aunt Ada in middle trying to keep to peace or keep the house from burning down. Their like sisters that got custody of an adult teenager which it basically was back then when you had an adult young woman in your house. But I really love Aunt Ada. I know she's always keeping the peace but she did say in episode sometimes yelling could be a good thing so. But she has such a loving heart and she truly wants everyone to find happiness. I'd like to see her get happiness also. I could easily seen her be a wife and mom. So she deserves her own amount of happiness.

Now I know, we all know there is no way that Bertha is going to allow Gladys to marry Oscar. But what I'm trying to figure out is this is that good or bad? Now I see Bertha wanting have what happened with Cora on Downton Abbey, with Gladys ends up marring a English Lord or Duke. Not Oscar Van Rhijn that's for sure. But what about for Gladys at first I was against the idea because shouldn't she find a man that actually want to be in love with her? With Oscar because he's gay that's never a true possibility. But after what Oscar said in episode it got me thinking. Because back then it wasn't like a wife square and equal partner in a marriage. Depending on husband it was expected for the wife to have the husband's opinions on things, to keep in line. Gladys being married to Oscar she would have freedom she most likely never have in any other marriage. But she would also never have romantic love, I definitely think she'd have love with Oscar. Now I'm a lesbian so it is different to say the least but some of my closest friendships have been with gay men. One I consider the brother I never had. So Gladys could have a very deep emotional relationship with Oscar that's love just not romantic. So I'm lost what to think, however Oscar would need to show that wanting to marry Gladys isn't just for his own selfish reasons.

Than the mess with the robber barons. Which I wonder is just ment to mirror so many CEOs, Executives, Studio heads and etc... that are fighting the unions in our own time? I don't know if labor unions started because of robber barons or not. However I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they did. At that meeting with George Russell and the other robber barons is having talking about workers wanting medical care, better housing, better pay, 8 hour work day. While they choke on their own wealth but don't want to give the very people that are making them that wealthy a better life should be definition of greed. Is this how America became the greedy horrible place we now live in? That's why I use the term robber barons instead of successful heads industrialists. One tell everyone plainly what exactly what they were. But in the show it hard to know where place my feelings. Because the show is based somewhat in reality but the Russell's are fictional. But say that George Russell had been a real robber barons of the time. A large part of me wants to hate his character, but the problem is I actually like his character quite a bit. I want to see him put in ethical workplace practices for his workers, I want you see him do the right thing for the people that work him. Now I'm somewhat fearful what the show will have them do. Most likely mirror history no doubt.

Because I'll attempt it I love seeing Bertha in all her gorgeous, insanely beautiful dresses. Their so many of her's I was drooling over in this episode along, (she has the best wardrobe of whole cast). But if we were talking realistically, where is all that money coming from to pay for those dresses and grows. Off the backs off works who live in poverty. Does now, just like then makes so much sense why all jobs and industries need labor unions. But perhaps ultimately that's a part of the show. Because those two very thoughts were fighting against themselves at the same time in US right then. I do like the idea of the Gilded Age making us really think about that.

I'm so looking forward to whole new season!

I'm 100% on Bertha Russell side. She's basically Regina Mills cousin to me, don't ever ask me explain that outside my own mind lol.

Oh yea can't wait to see all the gorgeous clothes.

[floralovebot]

@redemptionarcsucker

NO CAUSE LITERALLY HELIA IS ANYTHING BUT THE POET

I know it would be really easy to assume that Helia is a poet, most obviously due to him actually being a literal poet and yknow. writing poems. Add on that he is genuinely good with his words and it's like! Duh! BUT NO!! A huge part of his character is that he wants to be the poet but he isn't. Helia acts like a poet. He makes a great first impression, he watches people carefully and responds in whatever way will move the situation best, he can be bitterly truthful and secretive all at once. But while that is still part of him, it's also so, so small in comparison to how he feels inside and how he actually acts.

While I have pondered Helia being the soldier, I gravitate much more toward the King. The king archetype is all about the responsibility that you don't want, that you don't deserve, but still feeling so loyal to it that you can't get away. No matter what they truly want in life, the kings will always go back to that responsibility because it's become them, and leaving literally feels like part of them is gone. They believe they have an intense duty to that responsibility and that leaving would make them the worst person in the world. And like,,, anyone with Helia Brain knows that this is him!! It's everything he feels about Red Fountain!!

Being the poet is all about embracing freedom and that's the one thing Helia refuses to do. He can't do it. He feels so intensely loyal to Red Fountain, and now to his friends, that any other option feels like betrayal to him. His own freedom feels like a betrayal. And that's just such a sad king move,,,

[stabbysideblog]

His face is partially lit by the campfire. The flickering flame throwing different features into sharp relief: dull upturned eyes, careworn wrinkles, scattered freckles, twisting bent hands, chewed lips.

"I think..." he pulls out the sentence as if the amount of seconds between fragments would be indicative of how logical the next half would be. As if that infinite moment would be able to pick up all of his puzzle peices and set them right. But you can only go so long before the end of the paragraph, so he finishes the sentence. "It's not that he made me miss him. It's that I don't want to not miss him because that feels like choosing. Like all of it was a choice I made. I don't know if that's better or worse."

----

Ardent runs in the shallow waves the sun framing him golden. He laughs full and joyful as the tide pushes him stumbling into the wet sand. His fingers dig in pulling out sand dollars and seaglass. His hair is misted glittering thousands of false diamonds. His cheeks pinched red as he races a crab out of the sand.

Sam watches from his island on the shore. A wide green umbrella for a canopy and picnic blankets for the floor. He watches as his husband dances with the wind. His chest rising and falling not with panic or fear but joy and freedom. He looks beautiful, he looks perfect, he looks like the past year of artifice was well worth it. He looks like a server saved.

~

It's hot and cold and hot and cold. Or maybe it's neither and you've just forgotten how to classify as abstract a measurement as temperature. You do know that your skin does not like whatever it is. There is a pressure above you and a constant beneath you and you shift on it. You want the waves to stop, the hot and cold and prickly and dull and loud and quiet to stop. You don't want to be so conscious of the weight of your vessel. There is a presence and there is a vibration you somehow recognize as sound. Nonsensical but continuous, low and soothing. You stop shifting to feel something deep and forgotten bubble up. Too much too fast you sink into the constant as relaxation blossoms through your veins.

~

You kneel next to the grave hand darting out to brush away the leaves. "I'm back. I know you hate me but I'm not going to leave you alone. I brought flowers, your favorite type." You place them in the vase squeezed in with last weeks bouquet. "The garden is going good. It's not as big as ours used to be but that's fine. It's fine I promise. Soon it's going to be time to harvest it. I-I." You swallow around the lump in your throat. "Is it weird to say I don't miss you? Maybe I just don't miss being you. I know this is all terrifying to you but it's different and it's good. You didn't have to hate me to have it be good." You pause. No reply. Duh. "I still talk to people. We both. We both deserved to live. You didn't have to kill me to deserve it and I hate that I had to kill you to exist." You adjust crossing your legs. "I don't know why I'm trying to convince you. I don't need your approval if that's what you're thinking. I'm perfectly fine without a tacit nod of approval from someone who can't even be a ghost." Your hand traces over the inscription in the wooden gravestone. "When I die which one of us will be the ghost?" You stand up brushing your pants off. There is work to be done.

"Goodbye Ardent. I promise I'll come back next week."

[meteor752]

Got into Descendants again, blame @a-e-g-g for that, and there’s a serious lack of Sea Three at Auradon!AU fics. And with that I of course mean that instead of the Core Four or whatever, Uma, Harry, and Gil got sent to Auradon during D1. Plus Freddie Facilier, just because I like her and she deserves some fun.

—

So anyways, The Sea Three + Freddie (I will just call them the CF, aka Sea Freddie) arrive in Auradon. Harry had to practically fight his sisters to be the one to go, Freddie was chosen over Celia since she’s older, and Gil got to go over his brothers since he’s kinder and could possibly “Put in a good word” with Belle, as his father said, and Uma is an only child so duh. It’s a bit weird for the three life long friends to have a scam artist there with them, but Freddie is too busy sorting her cards to care about them.

There’s no tension with Audrey when they arrive, Uma barely acknowledged her existence at all, or Ben’s as a matter of fact. Yeah, if you came here for some Uma X Ben thing to happen, then I’m going to disappoint ya. I can’t see Uma romantically with anyone, so yeah.

Harry is instead the one who gets it on with Ben. He flirts with him constantly (He flirts with everyone, but Ben especially), he takes him out on little adventures, and he teaches him how to spar like a pirate. Ben slowly starts to fall for him and his adventurous and impulsive ways, eventually breaking it off with Audrey when he realizes it’s more than just a crush. The two go on a date at the magical lake, and it’s sweet.

Uma’s storyline would instead be the sea. Of course they were all still sent there with the mission to get the wand and take over Auradon, and while waiting for the right time Uma spends a lot of time in the ocean. She meets fishes she’s never seen before, sea plants she’s never heard of, and even kind of befriends the mermaid Arabella, daughter of Alana and niece of Ariel.

Gil’s storyline would revolve around being himself. He’d join Tourney, because of course, but would also take many other extra curricular activities, such as textile, and baking, and embroidery. As a child everything that wasn’t “Manly” was frowned upon, but he’d always thought that was stupid. So now when given the chance, he chooses to just be. He befriends Lonnie, a girl also burdened with the expectations of her gender by society, and the two bond a lot! (Shit I might ship that now). Gil meets Beast and Belle during that parent day or whatever, and are pleasantly surprised by the polite boy.

Freddie is meanwhile vibing. She’s got access to her voodoo magic now that she’s of the isle, and she’s exploiting it like hell. Many of Auradon prep frown upon her odd antics, but some people come to her for help, one of which being Jane. Jane is magic herself, but was never allowed to use it since her mother has left it in the past. She wishes to make herself more beautiful, and Freddie does! Well as much as she can do, she fixes her hair. Yeah, in this story, Freddie is the only to start the makeover gig thing, purely for the money. Not at all because that pretty brunette was looking at her with such sweet eyes when she first confessed that she was unhappy, nope not at all (Shit I’m shipping Freddie and Jane now too what the hell).

It all eventually climaxes during the coronation, which I will be moving outside for this to work. Thing like, that boat setting in D2. Harry is right beside Ben when he’s coronated, feeling awful over knowing what he will have to do. Fortunately, Jane steals the wand instead, not only in hope of being beautiful but also in hope of connecting with her magic roots like Freddie did. Uma steals the wand, but not before it opens up a hole in the barrier, allowing Ursula to slip through.

What makes Uma turn to good is her love for the sea, and the knowledge that it would suffer under her Mother’s rule. She wants to protect her sea brethren, even if it means betraying her own blood.

Gil’s turn comes from the freedom he’s gotten from his own family, and the pressure they’ve put on him. He loves cooking, and sewing, and knitting, just as much as he loves being a pirate.

Freddie’s turn comes from seeing the tears running down Jane’s face. She’s so small, and innocent, and pure. The world needs more people like Jane, and that wouldn’t happen if their parents took over. She loves her father and sister, but she knows that freeing them and everyone on the isle would not bring upon anything good.

And Harry…Harry just wants to be with Ben. I know I haven’t talked a lot about them in this post, but Ben and Harry would truly be he core of this story. Their love wouldn’t be destiny, or fate, or anything like that. It’d be new, and random, and exciting, something that they both crave. Ben is the one who brought Harry freedom from the Isle’s barrier, but Harry is the one who brought him freedom from his own meaningless life.

Well, sweet, but oh no Ursula is here and ready to fight. This is also why we needed the water, otherwise this definitely wouldn’t work because she’s a fucking octopus thing.

Anyways, they use the wand to defeat Ursula who’s transformed into a small baby squid that Uma puts in a water filled glass jar, they all dance and stuff, but as it always goes with Descendants-

You didn’t think this was the end of the story, did you?

—

ANYWAYS

This was fun, I’ll probably make one for Descendants two. Let’s see how that goes tho, considering Harry is the one dating Ben, but Uma being the one who would need to go back.

Also, the reason they didn’t use a live potion on Ben or smt, is because I’ve always found that part of the story really disturbing, and it’s so weird that it’s never brought up again. So yeah, true love whoooo

And if ur wondering, yes Harry was just using Ben at first but he did eventually fall in love and stuff

[hamliet]

What Does It Mean to Save?

I keep seeing it said that Deku, Ochaco, and Shouto will “save” Shigaraki, Himiko, and Dabi, but that there will be no redemption and/or no survival for them. I’m truly not trying to vague these posts and everyone is entitled to their opinion, but literary criticism is fundamentally responsive so I’m writing this anyways.

I personally think that’s not BNHA’s definition of saving nor of redemption. So here, have a deep dive into literary tropes related to redemption, genre, and character arcs as they pertain to BNHA and the question of: what does it mean to save Shigaraki, Touya, and Himiko?

Before we begin, let me say that while we might be personally uncomfortable with redemption (there’s a redemption arc in BNHA I am personally quite uncomfortable with), that doesn’t inherently mean the narrative won’t go there. The key principle I’m operating on here is BNHA’s message that heroes save people. It’s held up as the highest ideal. 

So let’s talk redemption in BNHA-verse. With this guy, whose redemption arc I dislike in principle but accept as part of the story so don’t come for me stans and/or antis. I’m analyzing because it shows us what redemption means in BNHA-verse, whether or not that is satisfying to you personally as it fits/does not fit with your own morality/philosophy.

If Endeavor can be redeemed and live, and he’s Bakugou’s negative foil, I highly doubt Shigaraki and Deku as well as Touya and Shouto and Ochaco and Himiko will be any different. Why? Because Enji is an adult character. The others--well, Himiko’s age we don’t know, but we do know that Shigaraki and Dabi are technically adults. But does the story consider them adults?

(It doesn’t.)

Child-coded characters are generally more likely to survive a redemption, which I’ll explain more later. First I have to define what I mean by child-coding, because I DO NOT mean this in the way it’s often (mis)used in fandom wank. Child-coding is a real thing, but it is not done to infantilize and it has nothing to do with shipping.

Child coding frames the character as a child for a few narrative purposes to convey a story’s theme or purpose. For example, if it’s a coming of age story coding a character as a child even if they legally are not emphasizes their journey to an understanding of self-actualization, or a true understanding of self with self-awareness and an understanding of self-value. An example of an adult coded as a child is The Kite Runner, wherein Amir is a legal adult for half the story, even married for fifteen years so we’re talking 30s-40s, but he does not truly become an adult until he returns to his homeland and takes responsibility for a childhood sin. In Attack on Titan, the main characters are now nineteen, but are still struggling to take responsibility as adults and have only started doing so now that their mentors/parental figures have started dying.

Along those lines, in any kind of story, you can code a character as a child of someone, regardless of biological relationship, to convey the type of relationship they have (usually a mentor one). For an example of this, see Bungo Stray Dogs’ Dazai and Akutagawa. Despite their two year age difference, Dazai recruited him to the mafia, abandoned him, and Akutagawa desperately seeks his approval. Usually in these stories a character will “overcome” their parental figure. This can be done through overcoming their need for the parental figure’s approval in stories where the parental figure is kindly (such as in Harry Potter, when in the final book Harry, Ron, and Hermione leave the Weasleys to find the Horcruxes despite Mrs. Weasley’s please) or through like, killing/stopping/leaving the parental figure when they are abusive (see fairy tales like Rapunzel and Cinderella). The parental link to self-actualization is because it is childlike (and a part of actual psychology that is reflected in literature) to see yourself as a part of your parent; self-actualized person would see yourself as a distinct person from your parent, but also acknowledge the ways in which they’ve shaped you.

So, how do you code a character as a child? BNHA isn’t subtle about it, because Horikoshi seldom is subtle about anything. The villain trio are all coded as children.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Who cannot achieve self-actualization so long as AFO has access to his body, as he’s literally trying to possess him. He’s trying, but it’s not gonna work because Shigaraki can’t keep AFO and become an adult at the same time. It’s a choice the narrative is setting up: your dream of destroying, or your freedom? (To get the latter, he’ll probably have to destroy AFO).

Todoroki Touya, who is repeatedly emphasized as a small child when compared to his siblings, and yes, I know he’s now tall. Specifically he’s spotlighted as the child of Endeavor:

And he’s the least self-actualized one in a lot of ways, contradicting himself constantly. I’m not Endeavor, DUH! But these are Endeavor’s flames! He’s gonna have to choose one or the other, because the tragic irony is that the more he takes out his rage on those around him, the more like Endeavor he becomes.

And Toga Himiko (who might well literally be a legal child), who is actually the most self-actualized one thus far, because she rejects Curious’s child insistence (Curious holds her in a Pieta pose, based on Michelangelo’s statue wherein Mary holds a deceased Christ):

She’s still got, like, a way to go though:

Because Himiko also wants to be like the people she loves to the point where she loses her own identity in them, which is er, not self-actualization. So she’ll have to choose whether or not she really wants to be like the people she loves or whether she wants to live her own way, which she herself tells us how that would end (death):

Deku said it himself: it’s good to focus on what someone is doing now. And look, I have issues with this statement and how it’s framed. I’ve talked about it at length and it was doomed to fail because Shouto himself told us long ago that it was annoying to hear a righteous speech by a stranger when you hadn’t gone through the same, plus Endeavor kinda failed by choosing being a hero over a dad here. But, the principle is that if the past doesn’t preclude Endeavor from seeking a better self, why would it preclude three characters coded as children, one of whom is literally somewhat the product of Endeavor’s sins? BNHA doesn’t think the past keeps someone from a better future. 

So what about Dabi’s counterpoint, which is indeed valid? Well, redemption doesn’t mean the past forgets, either. It’s complicated and nuanced, and we can debate how well Horikoshi strikes this nuance (it’s got its flaws), and admittedly I don’t know how this will go down in the future. But it is asking Endeavor: how do you redeem yourself to the people you’ve hurt? And we have Endeavor asking this question to Touya’s shrine. I mean, the foreshadowing is obvious. Endeavor has to redeem himself by trying to save Touya. However, it will still probably come down to Shouto to save Touya.

For our three villains, it’s a little harder to predict... well, sort of. For Shigaraki it’s extremely obvious: he has to help take down AFO. Dabi probably has to do something to help his family (siblings probably), but it’s vague. Toga needs help and not condemnation, but presumably she’ll help Ochaco with something.

So, is this redemption? I’d define it as redemption in the eyes of the narrative. To address what makes a redemption is another essay unto itself, but if we bring in the oft-compared Star Wars example: did Darth Vader get a redemption? Did Ben Solo? Everyone says yes to both. However, only Luke witnesses Vader’s redemption, and only Rey Ben Solo’s. So the rest of the galaxy? Doesn’t think so. When I say they’ll be redeemed, I’m defining it as their role in the eyes of the narrative, not whether or not society will accept them or even whether their victims will forgive them (of note, in canonical novels, Leia never forgave Darth Vader despite learning he was her father and obviously knowing Luke’s account of his redemption was true).

So, redemption in a narrative doesn’t mean all of society has to forgive and accept them. Dabi has still like, murdered 30 people--many of whom were thugs, but he himself acknowledges they didn’t deserve to die. Additionally, he himself also acknowledges that the families left behind--their feelings matter:

But why does that mean they have to die? Why even does it mean they have to languish in prison forever? (If there’s even a safe prison at the end of BNHA which I kinda have doubts about.) Heroes have also killed: see Hawks as Exhibit A. In fact, some people want revenge on the heroes precisely because they arrested or killed their loved ones (jail isn’t held up as a rehabilitative place in BNHA’s world. In most countries it isn’t in real life, either, but again that’s for another essay). So why don’t the League’s feelings on Twice’s death matter just as much as the feelings of unnamed and unseen (and thereby less important narratively) characters?

Additionally, regarding death... the villains routinely get called on their death wishes. Himiko’s determination to decide how/when she dies is called out because this is right  before Twice overcomes his trauma to save her, and the next arc they appear in is when Twice dies trying to save her again. Dabi’s suicide wish keeps him from getting close to others, and it keeps getting thwarted. Shigaraki’s obsession with destruction and death is clearly not a good thing, and his rejection of his family’s desire for them to join him in death this past arc is growth.

In other words: what Dabi said and what Snatch said about families and how they feel matter for the villains too. The villains are their own weird found family (Dabi as the deadbeat prodigal brother of both his families). Their deaths--Magne’s and Twice’s thus far, and I’m not ruling out further deaths in the future--affect the others. People’s feelings on losing loved ones matter. The villains are people, as Himiko said herself this arc:

Their feelings about each other matter:

How would Touya dying affect the Todorokis? At least they saved him spiritually, I guess, but that’s absolutely lame narratively, and if you have Enji eventually do a sacrifice to save Dabi (pretty likely, even if I personally think Enji will survive said sacrifice) then what’s the point of Dabi dying? How would Himiko dying affect society? As a martyr like Curious wanted her to be, even a redeemed one? A tragic warning story? What even is the point of Ochaco saving her if that’s the case? If Shigaraki dies, well, who would mourn besides Deku? How would Shigaraki dying affect the surviving members of the league? He just couldn’t be saved physically? 

It’s not impossible some of this happens, but it doesn’t seem like great writing, especially with panels like, oh, these that show us BNHA’s perspective on death:

Sacrificing something is a type of death that occurs in stories; this should happen in a redemption arc, which is why I’ve been saying Enji needs to sacrifice his hero reputation to help save Touya and even then it’ll still be Shouto imo who does the saving. But physical death?

If you want further analysis of the latter two panels and how they relate to the ending, see here.

We already have another villain who will definitely die redemptively (Kurogiri--an adult coded character--because he’s already, like, dead), and Spinner and Mr. Compress aren’t coded as kids so I hold them with anxiety towards the end. But again, this isn’t me being ageist or saying this is the way things ought to be in fiction or real life: it’s me looking at writing tropes and saying that child-coded characters tend to survive their redemptions. See: Zuko. Why? Because the death of children or child-coded characters is a tragedy. When a child-coded character dies redemptively it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and if framed as such, it’s often criticized for bad writing (see: Ben Solo). Curious even called this out in her fight with Himiko. I would hope Horikoshi doesn’t end the story being like yeah Curious was right that’s the best use of Himiko’s/Dabi’s/Shigaraki’s arcs:

Additionally, as for the believability of a character getting a new chance after so much destruction and murder... well, it’s kinda a thing in shonen and even in seinen? For better or for worse, it’s a thing. We have Vegeta in Dragon Ball Z and Kaneki Ken in Tokyo Ghoul (Kaneki, by the way, is absolutely an inspiration for Shigaraki). We can debate how well-written these redemptions are (I personally have been quite critical of Kaneki’s despite wanting it to happen narratively), but it can be done. BNHA’s Japan especially isn’t as harsh a world as Tokyo Ghoul’s Japan, so it would make even more sense for something like Kaneki’s ending.

The reality is that the cycle of revenge via hurting people and then leaving hurting families and loved ones has to stop somewhere. Someone has to be the bigger person and step up and be like “naw.” That’s heroic. That’s brave. That’s sacrificial itself. Justice itself doesn’t really exist in its purest form without mercy.

There’s another genre-reason I don’t see death or jail as likely (I could see, like, maybe a mental health ward like Rei’s? But it’s too soon to speculate).

If saving is considered a good thing for the story, if it’s truly the highest ideal, then saving someone should be rewarded by the narrative. The characters who save should have a positive result to show us this a good thing.

This is why it doesn’t work for the heroes’ end journey to be accepting that some people cannot be saved. The notion of just accepting that you cannot do something, you cannot save everyone, you cannot, cannot, cannot, is called out as a flaw of society. Determination, on the other hand, is rewarded.

We see it with Deku as well as with Mirio.

So, what if they save them and the redeemed characters then go on to sacrifice themselves in their redemption and die (come to the same end)? If saving changes absolutely nothing for the saved person, if it’s too late for the saved from themselves to change and/or do anything that matters besides die, then the narrative theme of saving as important is left unemphasized at best and undermined at worst. Simple intrinsic knowledge that the kids “did the right thing” doesn’t cut it for a story with so much focus on physical saving when the kids are already doing the right thing; moral struggles about whether to choose to be good aren’t really Deku, Ochaco, or Shouto’s arcs. It works for Aizawa’s arc with Kurogiri, but not for the kiddos. If BNHA was more of a philosophical/spiritual text, that would indeed make sense, but it is not. Genre-wise, BNHA is a fantastical superhero optimistic story, not a gritty real-world set drama.

[nothoughtsonlystarker]

untitled brothers starkercest

Warnings: dirty talk, cest, age diff (college!Tony/ high school!peter; peter’s 18 if anyone asks), smut, girlfriend bashing

Tony has a serious college girlfriend, much to his little brother’s Peter’s constant annoyance. He’s lucky enough that his older brother decided to go to a state school to save money and stay at home instead of dorming. Most nights Peter gets to enjoy sleeping in the same bed as Tony, if only to feel the heavy warmth of his strong body. But lately, he’s been forced to sleep in his own room.

No matter how many times that slut tells Peter how "cute" he is (Tony’s not that much older), he’ll resent her for stealing time away from his favorite person in the world.

One night, Peter happens to overhear them having a bit of an argument. Apparently she doesn’t feel "comfortable" having sex in Tony’s childhood bedroom, mostly because of his adorable little brother." He scoffs internally, then nearly sees red at her next suggestion.

"Why don’t you just move into campus housing?" She says casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "We’d have a lot more freedom to mess around."

"I really can’t," Tony sighs heavily, much to Peter’s relief. "No offense, but the only reason I didn’t go to a better school was because I can’t afford out-of-state tuition and dorming."

"Well then ask your parents to!" He can’t fathom why Tony would spend time with such a dumb bitch.

"They’re not made of money!" Peter notices his brother’s voice has a more frustrated edge to it. “I’m lucky enough to have my own room at all.

"Besides, I could never do that to Pete." That alone is enough to put his heart at ease, knowing he’ll always be number one in his brother’s mind. “He’d be devastated if I left him behind like that.” There’s a frustrated grumble that makes Peter smirk. What’s she gonna say? That she only said his brother was cute to get on Tony’s good side? "Let’s just go to sleep, we’ll talk more in the morning."

A plan starts to formulate in his mind. She’ll never get a chance to convince him of anything.

Peter knows his brother is a bit of an early riser; in more ways than one. Sometimes he wakes up to a firm hardness pressing on his backside, though Tony was still asleep. He’d never dared to press back, so maybe it was time to do something bold.

His girlfriend (whatever her name is, he still hasn’t learned it on purpose) is always due to sleep in for a few hours while Tony is up bright and early. Peter sneaks into his brother’s room a little before 7. Ever so carefully, he lifts the comforter on his side of the bed and sneaks underneath. Just as he predicted, an engorged cockhead pokes out of the front of his boxers.

Peter licks his lips and just goes for it. He laps at the head of Tony’s cock. At first, he only feels his brother shift around a little, so he takes a little more and latches his mouth around it to suck more firmly. He wants to prove how good he is, prove that his brother has more reason to stay at home than a cheaper living arrangement.

Suddenly, there’s a hand in his hair and a soft grunt. Peter’s own cock twitches in response.

"Mmm, damn, what did I do to deserve this?” Tony mutters. “Your mouth feels amazing this morning, babe." Peter doesn’t say anything, only sucks harder and more enthusiastically than she ever could.

"Fuck yeah, just take it," he growls, gripping tighter. Peter moans around his brother’s cock, careful to not make any recognizable sounds just yet. "Gonna shoot my load down your throat so hard you won’t even taste it—fuck!!" Sure enough Tony comes with a harsh grunt, with a stream that goes straight down Peter’s esophagus, who nearly chokes on it.

Then Peter feels Tony’s whole body go stiff when a voice cuts through their afterglow: "I'm still trying to sleep, keep it down." He wastes no time climbing up his brother like a tree so he can see who really gave him the best blowjob of his life.

"Pete?!" Tony tries pulling him off, but Peter has latched onto him with his mouth like a leech. "What the—what the fuck are you doing in my bed?" He whispers harshly.

Peter releases Tony's neck for a moment so he can tell him, "Sucking you off, duh," before going back to giving his older brother the biggest hickey he could imagine. He tries to push him off (the efforts feel half-hearted, Peter thinks), but eventually Tony just lets Peter keep going.

"Petey, that's not something little brothers are supposed to be doing. It's not...that's for adults to do." But Peter huffs indignantly, furrowing his brow in that way that he knows for a fact Tony has always found absolutely adorable.

"But it sounded like you really liked it," he whines, nuzzling into Tony's chin. "Did I not do a good job? Does this mean you won’t stay?" Peter looks up, giving his big brother those irresistible puppy dog eyes that get him his way every time.

Tony groans, perfectly aware he's being played, but starts petting Peter's hair before his brother can get upset. "I did like it but—"

"Can we do it again?" Tony glances at the other body next to him, but Peter can sense he’s won. His hand snakes down to his brother’s crotch, where he can feel he’s still half hard. Tony grips his wrist, but doesn’t move it away.

"Let’s go to your room."

[avocadoart]

Cannon and other things I love about wtnv (SPOILERS DUH!)

Cecil is a stoner.

Kevin found love!

But it took him 3 eps to meet some guy, get the d and become a dad, while Cecil Fucking Palmer spent that amount of time fanboying over some sexy, perfect scientist and took WAY FUCKING LONGER TO JUST GET THEM ADMIT THEIR FEELINGS TOWARDS EACHOTHER

I love the fact how Cecil can look like anything. Any race, any style, any animal, and we KNOW its him

Carlos showed up in a red flannel shirt and lab coat ONE time and that's his outfit now. He doesnt have any other outfit. Prove me wrong. The fanart has spoken

Every time Cecil's outfit is described it is the most ridiculous thing (he wears fucking cat ears.) But the fanart has him all smert in suits n shit. I love this and the last point. This fandom is so weird

Just the fact about Mara Wilson and the Old Wamen and Matilda. Idk why but I love that, I have already stressed about this. Likez she played my favourite character and a random podcast I got into later in life she is in that? I'd thought she would still be doing awesome acting jobs! (But this is still an awesome acting job. I love it)

As a twink, I can say Cecil is often drawn as a twink. So is carlos but less that Cecil. My twink bois :)

Gay :) cannon gay. Healthy gay. Gay.

Poc. Healthy poc. Gay poc.

Representation :)

Disabilities bamfs.

Kevin happy! Not Desert Bluffs happy but happy happy! He deserves, my poor baby boi :(

Charles is Carlos' double, therefore meaning Carlos is part of Night Vale officially now.

They have a so n!!!

Cecil's voice. Baldwin is so talented and I love when he gets the chatacter all excited and that normally deep sensual voice becomes really high pitched and voice cracks. I love it!

Fey singing 2013 songs. I love her. She needs freedom

Khoshekh is a scary kitty but he baby.

This is all about cecil and Carlos. But I love em.

[bleulone]

i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

    Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

   Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

    I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

    When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

    Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

    It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

   Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

   It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

    Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

    All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

    If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;)) 

[scythe-of-house-aurkus]

Starting to think about who the main cast might be chilling out with us in Cantha! We know it will be likely be some characters we're familiar with, some new Canthans, and that they have some more freedom with the core cast:

Gonna throw this under a cut. It got long. I ramble, sorry.

So let's start with our most frequent compatriots, Dragon's Watch:

Taimi - Whether it be in-person or through comms, I feel like this is a gimme. She's our resident dragon magic expert, so ofc she's got to tag along in some capacity as we somehow tackle the dragon problem for the last time. Plus it's about time to make good on the S4 revelations with her illness no longer being in remission. (Also I think we'll see Gorrik, but he'll be with Taimi. Though there are beetles in Cantha too!)

Kasmeer - Likely, but I'm also a little torn on this one. We definitely need more Kas and Jory time (and not just as a unit). Anet didn't really get the chance to make good on their plans for the two in IBS, but Kasmeer was also with us in PoF. Will they double up on expansion exposure time? I think she will make an appearance but may spend a good chunk of that time doing her own thing. (I will say this: if we get a status update on the Kasjory situation as they like to do, it better be invitations to the wedding. Let them be happy ffs)

Marjory - This is a given, and not just bc Marjory's of Canthan descent. Ofc she needs more screentime and a dedicated character arc. We gotta deliver on the whole "my dead sister is inhabiting my sword" thing . And if there's weird stuff going down in Cantha? We're gonna want our detective friend with us. She's also got some potential family stuff that can be brought up with it being mentioned in S2 that her mother isn't very trusting of strangers. Why is that?

Rytlock - More a maybe, venturing into unlikely. His story reached its head in IBS, and it ended in a natural stepping off point. He's literally had more screen time than any other member of Dragon's Watch, bar maybe Taimi if you count comm chatter. I think it's likely he'll be spending more time in the Homelands instead of traipsing around with us. BUT he's also basically the game's mascot, and he was with us in both HoT and PoF in significant capacities. Will EoD follow that trend?

Braham - Also a maybe. I flip-flop constantly with this. His arc also reached its close in IBS. He had a lot of dedicated growth in S4 even before that. But there are things that make me think we may see him in EoD or at least in post-EoD story plans: a) being distinctly not dead after the IBS finale and b) the story potential there. Now that he's free from his mother's legacy and the choking reins of prophecy, there's room to explore what he does now with that freedom. Where does he go next? (On a side note, in the Sunqua Peak fractal there's that 'very tall and strong' character Hyo-Sonn introduced that is speculated to be a norn. Could be our in!)

Rox - Highly unlikely at this point I fear. However it was executed, her arc was clearly done in S4. She appeared for one DRM, but if we ever hear from her again, I'm pretty sure it will just be another cameo.

Now onto core characters that would either be new, or in one case, very recently introduced to us:

Jumping off the Braham bullet point, I think we're going to be dealing with some kind of isolated Norn community from the teases in Sunqua Peak! Norn are naturally loners that wander, so it kind of makes sense to me that a group might have found their way to Cantha at some point in history. Did they go so far north they wrapped around the pole and circumnavigated the globe to Cantha? Does that mysterious hole in the Far Shiverpeaks lead to Cantha? Dredge tunnels?? Regardless of how they got there, we'll probably have a representative from them with us in some capacity. They've just got to be careful to make it feel not too much like an Olmakhan situation.

Canthan character(s). Duh, this is a gimme. We're going to need some local friends. We know this lady from the concept art shown so far will be a character. Going off of art alone, I'm speculating she has some sort of ties to the Jade Wind and/or Sea. We shall find out! Beyond that, I don't want to speculate too much since so much of Canthan culture has likely changed since GW1.

And then the one we just met, Kalidris Sparrowhawk - Oh you know, the Tengu have beef with Cantha. If they're reopening their borders in any capacity, something's going to happen there. Kalidris stood out too much to be a one-off character in a DRM, and it sounded like she'd earned a bit of prestige for her actions there. Maybe she gets sent with us as a Tengu envoy of sorts? Either way, I feel like we're definitely getting the peppy birb.

Bonus round: cameos! Characters who I think will not be part of the core cast but may show up in some extremely minor way:

Faren - It's tradition at this point. If he doesn't show up out of left field doing something you would expect Faren to be doing, well, that'd just be sad. He'll probably appoint himself Kryta's ambassador to Cantha or something.

Canach - Another out of left field one. He's done adventuring with us, but I don't think he's gotten over that gambling problem. We'll probably find him in some shady betting ring in the dank depths of Kaineng City. And once EoD wraps up, he'll take his winnings and buy up all of Tyria. The reign of Canach begins.

Bangar - Hear me out. He's another case of "oh, he's not dead? interesting." Which means we have the melted snowcone available for comedic relief over comms. What do you think it should be? Snargle Goldclaw reading his latest novel out loud to an unwilling captive audience? It's what he deserves.

EDIT: smh I forgot to add a potential returning character, and it's a big one - Mai Trinn. It's a mystery where she went at the end of S1. There are Aetherblade teases in the trailer. She will probably factor in.

[gleegirlimagines]

Sibling Rivalry

After getting kicked out of her parents house, Quinn had to stay with Finn, his mom, and lucky for her, (or unlucky, depending on who you asked), Finn's sister Y/N, aka Quinn's longtime crush. It was currently Saturday, the day after shit hit the fan, and Finn had left for football practice while his mom left for work. Quinn and Y/N were home alone and Quinn was freaking out. She sat on the couch texting Santana and Brittany. 

Q: Guys what do I do?

S: Tell her how you feel. Duh. Fuck Finnocence. He's a twat that doesn't deserve you.

Q: But I cheated on him remember?

B: And? If you have feelings for his sister, cut the ties with him and date her. He'll get over it. He's infatuated with Rachel remember?

Quinn sighed in frustration, throwing her phone to the side. A voice piped up from behind her. "Trouble in paradise?" She jumped and turned to see Y/N standing there, shirtless, with her sweats hanging low, exposing her v-line and the waistline of her boxers, eating a bowl of cereal. Quinn smiled at the girl. "No. I'm fine. Just Santana and Brittany." Y/N nodded and walked around the couch to sit next to the blonde. "I gotcha. But other than that, are you doing okay? With everything that happened?" Quinn sighed. "No. But I guess I'll have to be. My parents have always been in my back about everything so maybe this freedom from them will be eye opening for me." Y/N nodded, finishing her cereal, placing the bowl on the coffee table. 

The blonde watched as the girl wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "You seem like something is bothering you." Quinn shuddered at the contact, warmth filling her body. "I have to tell you something. But you have to promise not to be mad or wanna kick me out." Y/N looked confused. "Okay?" Quinn took a deep breath. "Puck is the father." Y/N sat there unfazed. "Okay?" Quinn looked confused. "Aren't you mad?" Y/N chuckled. "I kinda already knew. I mean, Finn told me that you and him never had sex and that you told him that a hot tub make out session impregnated you. That's when I realized that my brother is an absolute idiot." Quinn giggled. "But I didn't know it was Puck. Knowing him, he probably had sex with you, got himself off, and left didn't he?" Quinn nodded. Y/N shook her head. "If I were him, I would've made your first time a memorable experience. You deserve the world Quinn. It sucks that your first time went like that." Quinn blushed. "Can I tell you something else?" Y/N nodded. Quinn got next to her ear. "I was thinking of you the whole time." It was Y/N's turn to blush. "Really?" Quinn nodded. "I have had a crush on you ever since I first laid eyes on you." Y/N smiled. "Can I tell you something? I feel the same way." Quinn looked shocked. "Can I kiss you Quinn?" Quinn nodded and pressed her lips against Y/N's. 

Quinn would never be able to explain how kissing the girl of her dreams felt. She felt warm, tingly, and most importantly, she felt safe and at home. They pulled away when air became a necessity. "Wow." They both started giggling as Quinn snuggled into Y/N's side. Y/N kissed her head. "Movie?" Quinn nodded as Y/N put on her favorite Disney movie. After a few minutes, Quinn found herself dozing off in Y/N's embrace. 

Quinn was woken up by what seemed to be yelling. She rubbed her eyes and noticed that Y/N was gone. As she woke up more, she noticed that it was Finn and Y/N yelling. She got up from her place on the couch and walked towards the yelling. 

"What the fuck were you doing cuddled up with MY girlfriend on the couch?" "We were watching a movie and she fell asleep! Why do you have to be so fucking thick?" Finn turned red. "She's MY girlfriend. Get over the fact that she chose me! You had your chance remember? It's not my fault I swooped in and got her!" Quinn's body filled with anger at the statement. "I'm sorry?" Both siblings froze. Finn turned first. "Q-Quinn! Hi baby! How was your nap?" He walked towards her to hug her, which she easily dodged and placed herself in front of Y/N. She turned to the taller boy. "What do you mean you "swooped in and got me"?" She put on her best "ice queen" glare as the boy cowered.

 "Um..I knew Y/N had a crush on you and I asked you out before she could. But I love you! That hasn't changed!" Quinn felt Y/N slide her arms around her from behind and she melted in the embrace. "Well I'm sorry to tell you this Finn but I feel the same way about your sister. My feelings for her are stronger than my feelings for you." Y/N rubbed her hands over Quinn's growing baby bump gently. Finn stares in shock. "But..you're carrying my baby." Quinn scoffed. "It's not yours. It's Puck. He's the father." Finn looked confused. "All that stuff in the hot tub? You just made that up?" Y/N spoke up. "You were stupid enough to buy it." Finn saw red as he lunged for Y/N who pushed Quinn out of the way to take the brunt of her brother. 

Finn began to punch his sisters face with force. Quinn tried to pull him off of her. "Finn stop! You're hurting her!" Finn stopped and turned to the blonde. "Don't tell me what to do! You lost that privilege when you whored it up with my best friend!" Y/N growled and tackled Finn. "Don't fucking talk to her like that!" She punched Finn a couple times before their mom walked in. "Oh my god guys! Stop!" They got off of each other. Finn's eye began to bruise as Y/N had a cut above her eyebrow. Quinn automatically went to Y/N to asses her injuries. Carol looked at the two as things began to click in her head. Finn shook it off, announcing that he was going to Rachel's. He left as the two girls were lost in each other. Carol smiled at the two before excusing herself. Quinn sniffled. "Can we go to your room?" 

After entering her room, Y/N was sat on her bed by Quinn as she went to get a first aid kit. After retrieving what she needed to clean Y/N's cut, she sat next to her and began her task. "You didn't have to do that you know. Get into a fight with him." "Quinn. I had to. I love you. Of course I'm gonna defend you like that." Quinn sniffled and pressed her lips to Y/N's gently. "I love you too." After she finished cleaning the cut, they both laid on Y/N's bed. Y/N laid her head gently on Quinn's growing baby bump as the blonde raked her fingers through her hair. Y/N began to softly sing to Quinn's stomach as the blonde began to drift off. 

Maybe she'd keep the baby.

[d0llhousess]

yearning 

⇢ pairing: narumiya mei x f! reader

⇢ requested?: absolutely not, this is purely self indulgent. 

⇢ warnings/tags?: reader pines and pines until she can’t pine anymore, angst, strangers→ to friends → to lovers, did i mention pining?, implied soulmate!au if you squint 

⇢ summary: You were so sure that you didn’t belong in his universe, yet for some reason you kept becoming trapped in his orbit. 

⇢ word count: approx. 5.2k

⇢ a/n: listen….I’m supposed to be working on my other wips but I was in the mood for angst...then I kept looking at Mei’s pic on my homescreen and listening to angsty songs so….here we are. 

   ⤆ Back to the Masterlist           ~                crossposted on ao3 ⤇

Your first impression of him was that he was a little too full of himself. 

  It was apparent in the way he stood up during introductions, the way he tilted his head up slightly-giving the appearance that his sky blue hues was looking down on everyone else, the way he said his name and hobbies with such confidence that you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

  Where other middle schoolers stumbled through their introductions with blushing faces and shaky hands, he didn’t. No, he stood there like he owned the entire room, like your shared classmates should be thankful that he even told them his surname. 

  You couldn’t decide if you hated him or envied him. 

 Even though the two of you  were in the same class, you didn’t interact much with him. He made friends quickly, and surrounded himself with people that looked at him with pure adoration in their eyes. You kept to yourself, much preferring the company of books than others. He was involved in club activities. The only you were involved in was cleaning up the classroom after school. He was as bright as the sun, charismatic in a way that even though it sounded like he was talking down on others, they still somehow wanted to be his friend. You didn’t know why he unconsciously demanded your attention, why your eyes would follow him the moment he’d enter the room, and it unnerved you. He barely knew your name, yet you still found yourself fascinated by every jeer that left his lips. 

  By the end of your first year in middle school, you decide that you dislike him. You dislike the control he has over you even though he hasn’t uttered a word in your direction. You dislike the way he occupies your thoughts. You just dislike….. him. 

  So, you look forward to a new school year where he’s not in your class. You look forward to finally having your mind back under control. Yet, fate seems to hate you because after moments of peaceful bliss, he suddenly walks into your second year classroom. 

  You can feel your chest bubbling with distaste and your brows furrow because you didn’t know what on earth you did to deserve this. When you return home for the evening, you rant to your mother about him, about how he’s still the same overly confident boy with eyes so blue that you’re sure even the sky is envious of them. Your mother just says that it seems like you have a crush. 

  You sputter at this. 

  You don’t like him. You can’t like him. You never even  had a conversation with him. Yet, your mother just laughs at your protest and shakes her head in a knowing manner that makes you even more angry. 

  At the end of your second year,  you decide that you hate him. 

  You hate the way his lopsided smirk lights up the room. You hate the way his light laughter sends a shiver down your spine. You hate how he looks in the morning when he’s gazing longingly out the window, the sun illuminating his eyes in such a way that they appear as if they’re twinkling. 

  Most of all, you hate the fact that he doesn’t even know you exist. 

  When your third and final year of middle school arrives, you aren’t foolish enough to hold out hope that you’ll be free from Narumiya Mei’s enrapturing orbit. Yet, when he doesn’t walk through the classroom door, commanding presence filling every crevice, you don’t feel relieved. No, you feel…disappointed. 

  You become confused with yourself because this is what you wanted. You wanted to be free from him, to not have to be in presence for hours on end. Yet with his absence comes a hollowness in your soul, and you hate it. 

  You hate how you miss the sound of his voice when it’s time to read during literature. You hate that you miss the bored expression that overtook his features when the teacher began to drone on and on about some meaningless topic. You hate that you miss a person that you didn’t even know. 

  It nearly kills you to admit it, but maybe you do have a crush, a nearly childlike infatuation,  with your former classmate.  Yet this realization doesn’t comfort you; it doesn’t make you feel giddy inside in the way that other girls’ describe it. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth because you know that you didn’t have a crush on the true Narumiya. You’re just merely fascinated by an image that your mind has created of him. 

  Your realization leaves you in a state of confusion. You don’t know how to move on, how to leave your childish feelings in the past. So instead of facing them head on, you bury them deep inside of your chest. You ignore the pain in your heart everytime you enter your classroom and don’t see him lounging in a seat. You throw yourself into your studies, into the many books that littered the shelves of the library. You retreat away from the real world and live your life through the pages of books. 

  Eventually, you forget about your fascination with Narumiya. He becomes just another face in the student body of your middle school, and you finally feel free. 

  Yet the moment of freedom doesn’t last long. 

  It happens on a rather hot day of summer. 

You’re retreating from abrasive sunlight  in the shade under a large oak tree, eyes scanning over the latest printed words in your newest addition to your book collection, and you hear the distant sound of someone grumbling to themself. 

  Your first thought was that you were hearing something. 

  Yet, after another wave of grumbles you realize that someone was on the other side of the tree, just out of your line of vision. Your slight curiosity causes you to peer around the hard bark of the large tree, and your eyes are filled with the sight of striking blue irises that causes your breath to become lodged in your throat. 

  “Oh,” Narumiya says to you, “I didn’t know anyone else was here.” 

  Your mind doesn’t register the words, in fact it’s stopped working entirely. Simply because the person of your late fantasies was here in front of you, speaking to you. It’s a miracle that you don’t begin to hyperventilate. 

  “Uh?” He raises a singular dirty blonde eyebrow, “Are you okay?” 

  Slowly, you blink and  the wheels in your mind finally begin to turn once again. 

  “I should be asking you that,” You respond, immediately cursing yourself in your mind. You shouldn’t have responded.  You should have stood up and walked away from the conversation. Yet,  something holds you there. 

  You hear him scoff, blue eyes rolling as he leans back against the tree.

   “So, you heard me?” He questioned, and you just shrug, your fingers moving to close the book that occupied your lap. 

  Like a moth to a flame, you move closer to him, fully crossing over to his side of the tree. Your mind yells at you, yet your heart ignores it’s protests. There was something in his eyes that ancored you to him, that made you want to know what was troubling the boy that seemed to have everyone around his lean fingers. With no protest, he surprisingly makes room for you, and with a singular glance from you, he launches into his plights of the day. It’s as if he’s word vomiting, overloading your senses with his voice as he recounts a turbulent tournament baseball game that he’d just lost. 

  He rants and you listen. 

  By the end of his tirade, he looks at you in a way that causes your heart to clench in such a way that has you wanting to run for the hills. 

  “Do you think I could’ve done more?” He’s asking you. You blink owlishly at him, head tilting as you digested every statement that he’d said. 

  “Yeah,” You responded, causing the blonde to sputter beside you, “I mean, you can always do more. Hindsight is 20/20, ya know? It’s already happened so the most you can do now is just accept it and attempt to do better the next time.” 

  He stares at you, and you’re sure that his azure gaze is peeling away every layer of your being and revealing the secret you’ve kept the closest to your heart. After a brief moment, he’s sighing, head tilting up as his gaze moves away from your form to the cloudless sky.

   You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. 

  “I guess you’re right,” He admits haughtily, “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from you, _____.” 

  At the sound of your name, you nearly feel yourself choke. 

  “You know who I am?” You question immediately, words flying from your lips in such a rapid manner that it was a small miracle that they were understandable. He’s looking at you with a singular raised brow, eyes shining with so much confusion that it causes your cheeks to heat. 

  “ Duh,” He says as it is the most obvious thing in the world, “We were in the same class for two years.” 

  You’re sure that your mind has stopped working, that your heart is beating out of your chest simply because he knew that the two of you were classmates. It’s such a minuscule thing that you want to curl up inside yourself simply because you feel elated. Such an embarrassing feeling to feel ecstatic because a mere boy acknowledged your existence. 

  “Yeah, but” You licked your lips, trying to will your racing heart to just slow down , “I didn’t really think you noticed.” A shaky, awkward  laugh left your lips, and his lips twisted into the same playful grin that you were sure you’d never be on the receiving end of. He’s gazing at you as if he knows your secret, as if he has a secret of his own but before you can think too much about his expression, he’s holding out his hand. 

  Your brows furrowed in confusion and he just rolled his eyes. 

  “Give me your phone,” He all but commands, and you can feel your lips tug down into a frown. 

  “Why?” You question, watching as he fishes his own phone out of the pocket of his loose jeans. 

  “I want your contact info, duh.” He says, tone laced in that same considering tone that made you want to tug the skin off of his ear. 

  “What if I don’t want to give you my  info?” You shot back, and he just laughed in response. 

  “But you do want to give me your info, so why are you even questioning me?” He’s smirking at you speaking in the same overly confident tone that takes you back to the time when you were a mere first year staring at his profile as he worked on an assignment. You hate the fact that he’s right, that he somehow is seeing through you after one conversation. Yet, instead of protesting once more, your hand is fishing out your own cell phone,  placing it in his outspread palm as he hands you his device.

  It only takes a few moments for you type up your information and before you know it, you’re holding your phone once again as he stands to his feet, informing you that he had a practice to get to. A part of you wanted to question him, to ask him to stay a bit longer, but the more rational side of you causes your mouth to stay shut as you wave farewell to the blonde. After he leaves your eyesight, you bury your face into your hands. 

  You don’t know if you want to scream, cry, or laugh. 

  Maybe you want to do all three. 

  Exhaling deeply, you lift your head away from your hands, eyes facing towards the bright blue sky that reminds you of the eyes that’d just left your gaze. It was then you cursed and thanked the heavens in the same breath. 

  Later that night, you’re staring at your phone, mind in turmoil as you look at the brand new contact. Frankly, you don’t know what to do. Should you message him, or wait for him to message you? Groaning, you stuff your phone under your pillow and gaze up at the empty white ceiling of your room. You decided that no matter what you’d somehow be sucked back into Narumiya’s enchanting orbit, that there was no escape for you. 

  So, you would adapt. You would allow your mind to drift off in thoughts about him, to admire him from afar. Your earlier conversation with him wouldn’t matter because he was a boy with many friends, many admirers, and you were a girl who moved through life alone. He would forget about the conversation, only remembering the light feeling that came after one vented, and you would resume your previous way of life. You were sure of it. 

  Except he didn’t forget. No, the next day, he strolled in your classroom during lunch time and plopped down into the unoccupied seat in front of you. 

  You were sure that your eyes were going to fall out of your skull from how wide they got. 

  He engages you in a conversation as if the two of you had always been best of pals and not mere aquatineces less than 24 hours ago. You’re sure that you’re staring at him as if he’s grown to heads, but he just continues to talk to you, pulling a sarcastic quip from your lips every time he asks you a question.

  For a brief moment, you wonder if you woke up in a parallel universe. A universe where you and Narumiya exist as equals, a universe where you’re just not a mere background character in the blonde’s life. Yet, when the next day arrives, and Narumiya enters your class to share lunch with you once again, you know it’s not some mere glitch in the system. 

  So you decide to indulge yourself. It wasn’t as if you were seeking him out. No, he was coming to you . 

  Your heart questioned your mind. It said, “ Why shouldn't you indulge in his conversations? Why should you stop your gaze from traveling over his form as he toyed with the discarded mechanical pencil on your desk? Why should you pull away?”

  Yet your mind knew better than your heart. It knew that this could only end in heartbreak. He was barely a friend and you were already in too deep. Besides it was the final year where the two of you would share the same school.  Soon, you both would be off to high school, and you’ll fade into a distant memory in his mind. 

  Yet, he wouldn’t be a distant memory for you. 

  No, you knew in your mind and heart once you’d become accustomed to his light that it would be hard to detach yourself from him once again. 

  It’d taken nearly two years for you to even ignore the strong emotions he elicited out of you. 

  You couldn’t imagine the time it would take to ignore the memory of the soft smile he shot your way as he exited your classroom as the final lunch bell rang, to ignore the butterflies he sent swarming in the pits of your stomach when he messaged you throughout the evening, to ignore the way his voice made your forearms erupt into goosebumps. You couldn’t forget the way he would tug you to go to watch a movie that he wanted to see, the way he would smile at you like you were the sun in the sky, the way he would always stop by your home after a long day of practice and listen to you ramble about your newest novel as he laid across your bed. 

  You found yourself wanting to hate him again, wanting to wish away his presence. Yet, you couldn’t. Unlike before, he wasn’t a mere illusion of a person that your mind had created out of loneliness. 

  He was real and you knew him. 

  You knew his favorite color.  You knew his preferred bento, his fears of never being enough for his team, his yearning for something more . You knew that the only thing he wanted in the entire world was to be the best pitcher in all of Japan, and you had no doubt in your mind that he would succeed. He wasn’t just the boy with the enchanting smile and blue eyes that rivaled the skies. 

  He was your best friend, and the thought of being apart from him made you want to curl up and cry. 

  So you begin to change the conversation every time high school or the future is brought up. You dance around his questions, shut your ears down when he declares the arrangement of highschools that want him in their baseball program. You just won't, can’t, think about it. 

  Yet, you can’t run away from the question anymore when Mei is spending one of his rare days off in your bedroom, staring at you with those blue eyes that mirrored the cloudless sky that hung outside your bedroom window.  

  You gulp, averting your gaze to the book in your lap, “I don’t really know where I want to go yet, Mei. It’s just not something I’ve thought about.” Your response comes out a bit jumbled, and you nearly curse out loud at your stupidness.  

  You can feel his heavy gaze on you, peeling you apart at the seams in a way that only he seems to do, and you try to ignore him. It wasn’t as if you were lying. You truly did not know where you would attend high school because your mind seemed to shut down every time you thought about being away from the blonde that was relaxing on the soft rug that occupied  your bedroom floor. 

  “Come to  Inashiro with me.” He states, voice ringing clear in the stale air of your bedroom. Your eyes immediately fly from the worn pages of your novel and meet the same sky blue hues that causes your breath to lodge itself in your throat. Your mind halts, no words escape your lips even though your mouth opens. 

  “Come to….” You trail off, brain failing to catch up with his request because you just couldn’t believe the words that had come out of his mouth. He wanted you to go to the same school as him. He wants you to follow him to the school that he was sure was going to launch his baseball career. He wants you there with him.  

  “I mean you’re into books and stuff, right? Your nose is always buried in them, and you always talk my ear off about analysis and whatnot. Inashiro has a good literature program from what I heard so like you could join that club and-” 

  His words are background static to your racing mind and heart. You’re sure you’ve forgotten how to breath but the sharp pants that leave your lungs make you aware of the fact that you’re certainly  breathing, just a bit too fast. Your eyes are locked on his face, but he’s not looking at you. No, he’s looking everywhere but you, eyes nervously darting around to look at the mundane decor of your room as he avoids your wide gaze. 

  He chose a school not only for him, but for you as well. A part of you wants to run, to run away from the emotion that is bubbling in your chest, because it’s just so stupid. You shouldn’t base your wants over some stupid baseball idiot that just so happened to be your best friend. You shouldn’t even be considering going to the same school as him because he was destined for greatness and you were destined for…..something else. 

You should decline, because you just can’t base your life around some boy. Yet, you knew that Mei would never just be some boy to you. 

  He was much more than that. 

  He’s always been much more than some boy to you, and you know if he asked you would follow him to the ends of the Earth.  

  It was then you realized that you were hopeless in love with the boy that sat on your rug, looking past you at the poster on your wall as he awaited for your answer.

  “Well, I guess since you’ve done all the work for me, I have no choice, hm?” You finally answer him, after a couple of silent beats. Before you know it, you’re in his arms, face against his chest as he squeezes you tightly to his body.

   He doesn’t say thank you. 

  He doesn’t tell you that he’s overjoyed that you’ve agreed. 

  He just holds you so close that your scenes are filled with nothing but the soft but rather cloying scent of his cologne. 

  No, words are needed because while he’s holding you trying to thank you in the only way his pride would allow him to, you find yourself falling deeper in love with the boy that has somehow become the center of your universe. 

  Graduation arrives before you know it, and in only a few short weeks, you’re standing in the opening ceremony of your first year of highschool. 

  Your eyes eagerly seek out the blue hues of your best friend and it only takes a brief moment before your eyes lock with his. His face erupts in a nearly ear splitting grin, and your own lips twitch into a smile. 

  You’re both here together, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

  With a new school year comes new people waving club flyers in your face, and even though Mei practically begged you to become a manager for the baseball club, you needed some escape away from him. So instead you sign up for the literature (much to Mei’s displeasure), and you settle into your first year of high school rather smoothly. You make friends with people that hold similar interests as you. You succeed in your studies, and best of all, you don’t lose your best friend. No you attend his every game, you sneak out past curfew with him to point at the dim stars in the cityline,  two of you become slightly attached at the hip despite your busy schedules. 

  There are times where jealousy clenches at your heart when Mei’s bouts of fan girls giggle every time he enters your classroom for your shared lunch, or when they scream a little too loudly at his baseball games drowning out your own yells for your best friend. There also times where your heart yearns for him to be yours and yours only . Yet, you tell yourself that it’s selfish for you to want such things. You should be content with the fact that fate hasn’t separated you away from him, that you’re allowed to even be in his orbit. 

  Yet, your heart still longs for more. Your mind still wanders if the two of you could be something more, but you stifle these thoughts and emotions. He’s your best friend and that should be good enough, no matter how much your mind and heart screams at you when he blows a kiss to his fangirls.

  The beginning of the school year practically flies by and before you know it, you’re watching your blonde friend pitch at the most important game of his life. 

  You don’t really know much about baseball, only becoming interested in the sport after Mei decided to always talk about it, yet you know that Mei is an astounding player. He’s confident in the same way that he commands a room to look at him. His charisma bleeds into his pitching style and his determination is shown in every pitch he throws. 

  Yet, something feels off about him today. 

  Those icy blue eyes aren’t electric in the same manner they always are when he’s on the mound. He wasn’t the confident boy you knew him to be and for the first time in a game you could tell that he was nervous.  You wanted to comfort him, to run out onto the field and tell him that this national stage was nothing  because he was meant for the world stage. He was the best and you wanted to make sure that he knew it, yet you couldn’t move from your seat in the stands for the game had already begun. 

  It was no surprise to you that his pitch had become wild, and Inashiro had unfortunately lost the game. 

  You wanted to immediately rush to the locker room, to assure him that it wasn’t his fault that the coach shouldn’t have put too much pressure on a first year. Yet, you couldn’t. There were just too  many reporters that crowded the area. So, you returned back to school and waited. You waited until it was deep into the night until you snuck out of your dorm room, careful not to wake your sleeping roommates. 

You followed the familiar path that led to the boy’s baseball dorms, and in a few brief moments you were outside of Mei’s dorm room, knocking tentatively. After a mere few seconds, the dorm room door flies open and you’re met with the forlorn expression of your best friend. Your heart aches as you step into his unshared dorm room, and before you can fully find the words to say to the taller boy that’s standing in front of you, you're engulfed in his embrace. 

  He’s pressing his face into the side of your neck and you can feel the warm tears that begin to fall from his eyelashes. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing. You just wrap your arms around him, allowing him to fully break down in the way you know he needs too. His sobs wear at your soul as you stroke his soft blonde hair. The way his shoulders tremble nearly causes tears to well in your own eyes. Your heart aches for him, because you know that he feels defeated that he feels as if he is the cause for his teams lost. Once he’s calmed down and the both of you have retreated to the top bunk of his bed, you rest your head against his shoulder listening to his now even breathing.

  “It was my fault we lost,” He whispered into the quiet air of his dorm and you didn't respond knowing any words you might say won’t stop the feeling that rang through his chest. 

  “I’m the ace, ” He continued, fingers toying with your own as he stared blankly at them, “It’s my job to be reliable, to deliver us to victory, and under the presence of nationals, I couldn’t .” His voice breaks, and your heart breaks along with it. You shift slightly in your position causing him to look at you. His face was highlighted by the blue glare of the midnight sky and the moonlight that streamed in from his dorm room window highlighted his blue irises in such a way that made you fall in love all over again. 

  You give him a soft smile, hands coming up to cup his slightly cool cheeks. “You know what you have to do now, right?” You questioned, resulting in a slightly blank stare from the blonde. Dropping your hands from his cheeks, you shake your head as you laugh lowly. 

  “You have to work harder, Mei,” You continued, “Become the ace that they can rely on, become the pitcher that I know you can be.” Your final phrase comes out in a whisper and Mei’s staring at you with those sky-crystal blue eyes that makes your heart begin to beat at a rapid pace. Once again, you feel as if he’s peeling away at every layer of your words, every hidden meaning of them, as if he’s looking at your bare soul. 

  His eyes flicker away from your eyes to your lips, and suddenly his lips are pressed against yours, knocking the air out of your lungs. On pure instinct, your eyes flutter closed, your fingers tangle themselves in his silky blonde locks, and your body pressed against his. He’s pulling you closer as if he’s trying to mold his body into yours, and you gasp into his mouth. The kiss is rushed, yet you can practically taste the nearly feverish emotions that's escaping you and you’re sure that he can feel them too. You’re certain that he can feel the pent up longing that’s erupted from your soul, the yearning you’ve held for him since the very day you saw him in your first year class in middle school. You don’t want it to end, because you know the moment he pulls away, he will fill the nearly electric air between the two of you with apologies and declarations that he just got lost in the moment because he’s vulnerable, and your heart can’t take it. You can’t take the rejection, the denial of your feelings for him, you’re too far gone, because, Heavens, you love him. 

  You love him, You love him, You love him, and you can’t let him go, let your feelings go after he’s kissed you as if you were the center of his universe, and it wasn’t the other way around. When he pulls away from your lips, you feel your heart clench and tears begin to well up in your eyes because you can practically hear the words that are about to leave his reddened lips, and you can’t-- 

  “I love you,” 

  His confession comes out in a heavy whisper, a whisper that makes your heart skip a beat, a whisper that causes you to look at him with wide eyes. Your mind is slower than your heart to react, because before you’ve even thought of words that celebrated his confession, your lips are on his again. You don’t need to tell him that you’ve loved him from the moment you laid your eyes on his haughty expression. You don’t need to tell him that you’ve yearned  for him from the beginning of your friendship. 

  You just pour your entire soul  into your kiss, and for the first moment in your life since you’ve met Mei, he doesn’t feel as if he’s living in a different universe from you, no does he feel as if he is the unreachable sun that you’re orbiting around. 

  He feels like the boy that you love, and who loves you.