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megamindsecretlair · 5 months ago

Text

Burn For You

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Cursing, kissing, smut. PIV, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering (female receiving).

Summary: Coming back to LA from college was like coming back to an alternate universe. So many part of the hood were equally familiar and completely foreign to you. However, the one thing that hadn't changed much is Franklin Saint. Or so you thought. He walks with a cane now and is no longer the sweet boy you've nursed a crush on your whole life. After spending a day with him, you invite him back to your house after a few confessions leaves you hungry for him.

Word Count: 7,145k

AO3 Link

A/N: I....did not think this would turn out so long LOL. This is a very sweet ask from @kaaliyahsierra, thank you for trusting me with this, lovely! Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @sevikasblackgf @slippinninque @babybratzmaraj @browngirldominion @thecookiebratz @we-outsiiiide @kindofaintrovert @theunsweetenedtruth @theyscreamsannii @kaaliyahsierra @pinkpantheris @blackelysian @sugrcookiiee @hihellogoodbyebruh @softimgyu @neawarren @harmshake @iv0rysoap @ciaqui @amethyst09 @nworbaij @nerdieforpedro @judymfmoody @multiversefanfics

Damn, the neighborhood had really changed. As you drove through the old haunts of Compton, you looked around at the busted places, plazas full of thugs, homeless on every corner. And it seemed like the gangs had increased their activity. There was a boy on every corner.

Coming back from college, this almost felt like a nightmare. Like you stepped off of a crazy Scooby Doo type of town. Where everything and nothing felt familiar. Was this the cost of leaving? Not feeling you belong anymore?

“Girl, cheer up! It’s not all bad,” your friend, Tucky, said. You may have mentioned how shocked you were once or four times.

She proceeded to tell you all the ways that LA was still the same. There were still bad little kids scrambling to get home before the streetlights came on. There were still cop cars and helicopters lulling people to sleep. There were still the hot ass summers.

You put on a brave face and nodded. You didn’t want to spend your last few weeks here being miserable or grumpy. You came to unwind a bit from college before starting your job at the bank. It wasn’t the first thing you wanted to do, but it paid well enough and you were inside a building all day. Even during hot summers.

Tucky drove to your parents’ house and you couldn’t help looking at all the different ways drugs, crime, and poverty was slowly melting LA right before your eyes. You could only shake your head at it.

Tucky pulled into your driveway and helped with your bags. Inevitably, your eyes searched across the street for Franklin Saint. Having grown up in the neighborhood, you used to run with him and the crew. You used to chase each other around the lawns, rode bikes, got into all kinds of trouble as kids.

Franklin was the first to go away to college. He set the bar for everyone, but not everyone was able to meet it. Melody was set to go as well, just like you, but you never learned why she didn’t.

It was silly to look for Franklin. The odds that he was still living at home with his mom were slim. It was just that…well…you still carried a torch for him. A huge one. So huge it felt like it would crush you most days. He was the measuring stick by which you judged every guy at college.

Eventually, you stopped trying and learned to like the guys around you. At every corner, they fell short. They weren’t tall enough, broad enough, dark enough, smart enough, or funny enough. You ended up losing your virginity to one of them. Bad experience all around. You thought that it’d be magical or heavenly like all those books you read or shows you watched.

It was nothing but a disappointing seven minutes. You vowed never to try again unless you were absolutely certain about the guy. And it never happened. Because none of them were Franklin.

As you were lost staring at his front door, Franklin emerged from his house. He limped with a cane and you lurched forward as if you could do something about it. Why did he have a cane? He was too damn young for a cane.

He still looked good though. He wore a wine colored polo shirt buttoned to the top, dark jeans, and sneakers. From where you could see him, it looked like his hair grew out as well. He walked with the surety of being mature. Gone was the sweet boy who you used to make up excuses to go see at Cho’s.

Tucky came out of your house. You turned to her. “What the hell is Franklin doing with a cane?” You asked.

Tucky looked across the street at Franklin, who stood in his doorway talking to his mom, Cissy. “We didn’t know if we should tell you…Melody shot Franklin,” Tucky said.

“She what?” You practically screamed.

Melody shot Franklin? Too many questions ran through your mind. That girl was as in love with Franklin as you were. What the hell could have happened in four years? And why the hell didn’t your friends tell you anything? Not even your parents?

That seemed like pretty huge fucking news to not share with somebody. Tucky knew how long you carried the torch for Franklin. She knew that you felt horrible liking the same man as Melody. How crushed you were when it seemed like he was more into her and not you. How could she not tell you?

“You were off at college and we all kinda promised to let you enjoy it. What good would it have done to tell you he got shot? You would’ve just run back here,” Tucky said.

“That was my decision to make,” you said.

“No, it wasn’t. You have a chance to get out of this shit. Not everyone does. So no, it wasn’t up to you to decide to let the hood drag you back into this shit. The first chance you get, move out of the neighborhood and don’t come back.” Tucky grabbed your last bag from the car and took off inside your house.

You rubbed your head. All these conflicting emotions were giving you a headache. The hot LA sun beat down on you with the briefest glimpse at a breeze. You looked once more to Franklin’s house. He was facing you and then he waved.

You gasped. You didn’t actually think he’d see you though you made no move to hide. You waved back. Franklin kissed Cissy on the cheek and then limped down the steps. You thought he was going to head to his car out front, but he continued past it. Crossing the street.

Your heartbeat sped up. Your lips trembled. You weren’t expecting to talk to him right now. You had no idea what your breath smelled like or how you looked. You wore petal pushers, a yellow tank, and flip flops. Not exactly queen of sexy at the moment. There was nothing for it as Franklin got closer.

“What are you doing back here?” Franklin asked. He approached you and then swallowed you up into a big, deep hug. The kind that made you melt against him, like he was soaking up every negative thought you had.

“All done with college,” you said with a grin.

“Four years went by that fast? Damn,” he said. He got a faraway look in his eye before he smiled at you.

“College did good for you?” He asked.

You shrugged. “Wasn’t without some problems. I sure missed everyone here though,” you said.

“Everyone?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and fought a smile. Franklin was the only one who could put you back at ease. Like four years was just a thought in your head. You were transported back to the good old days of high school. Franklin, still young and sweet, the gang together. You did hear about Kevin’s passing though. It had been too hard to make it back home to see everyone. You were still reeling from the fact that Tucky kept so much from you.

“Yes, that includes you Franklin Saint,” you said.

Franklin chuckled. “You know, to this day, you’re the only one who calls me by my full government name,” he said.

“It’s a good strong name. Why not use the whole thing?” You asked.

“‘Cause I’m not in trouble,” he said.

You crossed your arms and leaned on Tucky’s car. The afternoon sun already made it hot to the touch, so you could feel the heat through your pants. Still, you leaned on it and looked at Franklin. “I’m happy I ran into you,” you told him.

“Me too. Glad I got to see you. How ya been?” He asked.

You caught him up on nonsense about what you studied at school, the friends you made, and the food you tried. Tucky came outside while you were in the middle of talking. She said hi to Franklin and told you that her mom paged her, she needed to get back to watch her siblings.

“I thought we had all day to hang out together,” you said.

Tucky rolled her eyes. “I did too. My brother was supposed to watch them but Mama said she don’t trust him as far as she can throw him. I’ll try to get over tomorrow. It depends if she work a double shift,” Tucky said. She hugged you bye and then waved to Franklin. She got in the car so you moved onto your front lawn to let her pass.

She drove down the street, leaving you without anything to do today. Your parents were on a mini vacation up to Santa Barbara at the moment. Just you and the house for a few days before they got back. What the hell were you going to do now?

“You hungry?” Franklin asked.

“Huh?” You heard what he said, you just needed a moment for your mind to process it. He repeated his question and you nodded.

“Yeah, I can eat,” you said. You were hungry enough to eat a fuckin’ cow. Between the flight into LAX, cruising around with Tucky, and everything she revealed, you were starving. You had wanted to stop at In and Out, but Tucky wanted to unload your stuff first. Too many instances of people getting robbed in broad daylight.

“Lock up the house, I’ll take you to get some Fatburger,” he said.

“Are you sure? You don’t have anything to do today?” You asked.

Franklin smiled. “Not anymore,” he said.

You walked backwards from him with your hands in your pockets so he wouldn’t see how fucking giddy you were. That you got to spend some time with Franklin Saint. Alone. None of the crew with you.

You’d been alone with him before throughout the years. Times where everyone else split but you two lived close to each other so you could linger a bit longer. Melody, with her cop dad, had to be home way before the streetlights came on. She usually initiated the great departure. Kevin and Leon would go next and then there was just you and Franklin.

There had been many times where it felt like it could lead to something more. But you were too chicken to say what was on your mind. To let him know that you were feeling him. And if he turned you down, at least you’d know and you’d stop guessing and torturing yourself. But then your feelings would be out there. And if he did turn you down, you’d still have to be around him after.

You turned and went to get your purse, making sure your wallet was inside. You locked up the house and then walked with Franklin to his car. He was able to move pretty well with the cane. You wondered about the shooting and his recovery, wondered how he felt getting shot by the one girl you swore would end up with Franklin.

He opened the passenger side for you and you smiled at him as you got in. He limped to the front seat, getting in, and then peeling away from the curb. He was a careful driver, following all of the laws and not speeding too much. It was LA. Everyone sped. And those who didn’t were tourists and people who just moved here.

You talked about nothing important, asking Franklin what he’d been up to since you last seen him. He was vague about his work, but mentioned that he was trying to get into real estate. That was what he and his mom were trying to do together, but it was slow going because of people like her old boss.

Making it to Fatburger, Franklin got out of the car first. He told you not to move while he came around and opened the door for you. “You don’t have to do that, Franklin Saint,” you told him.

“I want to do it.” He smiled and took your hand. You must have gotten off in an alternate LA. An alternate universe. One in which you were holding hands with Franklin Saint and he was about to buy you a burger.

You ordered and while you waited for the food, you pestered him with questions. “I guess I never thought you’d go into real estate like your mom,” you said.

He shrugged. “All these investors and white dudes come into our hoods to make money off of our backs. They leave the places like shitholes and then get mad when people want something better. If they can do it, I can do it better,” he said.

You smiled. If nothing else, at least that same fire in him never went out. “My mom and I own an apartment block not too far from here actually,” he said.

“Wait, really? What’s the rent like?” You asked.

“You trynna move out already? You just got back,” he said.

Your orders were called so Franklin grabbed them. You made your way back to his car, leaning on the hood while you dug into your burger. You moaned at the first taste of it. What you loved about Fatburger was that it tasted just like someone whipped it up in your kitchen. A hood staple. Nothing fancy about it.

“I had four years without my parents down my back about everything. There’s no way I can stay in that house for too long,” you said.

“I can show you one of the empty units if you want,” he said.

“Yes! Please,” you said. It’d be a bit awkward paying Franklin and his mom for a place to stay. But fuck. Anything had to be better than being back under your parents’ roof. They were sweet, truly, but even while away at college, they refused to see you as an adult. You needed out, as soon as possible.

You fell into a comfortable silence as you ate your food. The sun was finally starting to lose some of its heat. Honking cars, slamming brakes, and helicopters made for a chaotic song in the background as you looked around.

Finished with your food, you threw out everything in the nearest trash can. When you approached Franklin again, he caught you about the waist and pulled you closer.

“Stay out with me,” he said.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. This was so surreal. And unfortunately, you weren’t cool enough to go with the flow. “Franklin Saint, what are you doing?” You asked.

“I really did miss you,” he said.

You licked your lips. If only this man knew…knew about the many times you spent awake, dreaming about him. Wondering about him. Daydreaming about him. He had no idea.

“But this…” you said, letting the sentence dangle. You were still too nervous to be out with it. To go on and say what you meant.

Franklin chuckled and gripped your hips a little tighter. He interlocked his fingers behind your back. “A lot has changed. A lot of bad shit. I got some scars. Thank you for not asking about the cane, by the way.”

You smiled. You did want to ask about it, but Franklin was entitled to tell you about it or not. Tucky was wrong. People were responsible for their own informed decisions. You didn’t have a right to demand information from Franklin.

“But what’s never changed was how I felt about you,” he said. He looked at you while he said. Everything in you told you to believe it. To cherish it. To hold it in your heart and never let it go.

“Stop playing,” you told him, laughing to diffuse the sudden too tense situation. You tried pulling out of his arms, but he held on tight.

“I’ve done a lot of shit. Regretted a lot. One of my biggest regrets was never telling you how I felt in high school,” he said.

Your lips parted on a quiet gasp. “In high school? You were on Melody,” you said.

He winced as you said her name. You wondered about which memories those conjured up for him. You may not feel right asking him, but you would definitely ask Tucky the next time you hung out with her. You had been too out of the loop.

“I liked you. But it never seemed like you liked me back and I was too nervous to ask. When you left for college…all I could think was that I should’ve kissed you,” he said.

Today was a day for revelations it seemed. You stared, open mouthed at Franklin. Your head emptied of every thought except that…Franklin Saint liked you back. Been liking you since high school. And he was the nervous one? He was the one that wasn’t sure about your feelings?

“Franklin Saint…I’ve had a crush on you since we first met,” you told him.

“You have?” Franklin asked. He smiled. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You shrugged. You licked your lips, so dry in the face of everything you kept locked down for years. Practically a decade at this point. You rehearsed what you would ever say to Franklin if you had the chance. That rehearsal did nothing for you at the moment since you couldn’t remember a single sentence.

“It felt like you were more into Mel. She was my friend too and I saw the way she looked at you…”

There were plenty of times that you caught them looking at each other when they thought everyone else weren’t looking. You thought they would have ended up together by now. Mel on her first kid at least.

Hearing that she was the one to shoot him was still odd to you. There was so much you were missing.

“I did like Mel. I won’t lie and say that I didn’t. But I think Mel was safer,” he said.

You looked up at him. Night was fast approaching. The lot lights were starting to come on, bathing Franklin in a pale glow. His eyes darkened in the shadow of the light but this up close, you could see him. Really see him.

“Mel lived right next door. She had a cop for a dad. I knew who she was inside and out. Or I did,” he said. “But you…you scared me.”

“I scared you?”

Franklin nodded. “You’ve always been special. Always saw the world better than I ever did. I thought if I told you, if I kept you here selfishly…I’d never forgive myself,” he said.

“Think mighty high of yourself to think I would stay home from college for you,” you said. You smirked to let him know that you were teasing. But only a little. You probably would have found a college closer to home if it meant that you got to be with Franklin Saint.

Your feelings weren’t one sided. All these years. Wasted. Gone. All the nights spent dreaming about a life with Franklin. Those could have been nights spent on the phone talking to him.

“Not that. You deserved to live your life without worrying about me. Or anyone from the neighborhood,” he said with a smile. That damn smile. No matter what he did, he always had the same smile. The kind that warmed you down to your toes.

“What about what I wanted? You don’t know what I would’ve done had you told me sooner,” you said.

Franklin nodded. “I’ll live with that. At least you went to college guilt free,” he said.

You sighed and leaned your head on his chest. You breathed in his beautiful clean scent. Felt his strong arms around you. His long legs pressed against yours. This. This was your dream. To be wrapped up in his arms and forgot the world existed.

You pulled back and looked at him. “Take me home?” You asked, a shy smile on your face. This was the boldest thing you’d ever done in your life. Your stomach rebelled, screaming that this was too much for you.

But it wasn’t. He would make sure of that. Franklin Saint was always goofy, kind, and sweet. Four years and whatever went down for him couldn’t change that completely. Couldn’t change him.

“Are you sure? I’m not pressuring you into anything, I swear,” he said.

You placed a hand over his heart to calm him down. “I’m very sure,” you said. You hoped you sounded calm. This was what you had been dreaming about as soon as you were old enough to recognize that he was a very attractive boy and made your stomach feel funny. You dreamed about kissing him, getting naked with him, and feeling him move inside of you.

It was so close for the taking. All you had to do was reach out. And be honest. Speak up for once in your damn life and grab what you want instead of waiting for divine intervention. Like you were going to trip and land on his dick somehow. No. You wanted him. And you wanted him now.

“If anything, it feels like I’m pressuring you.”

Franklin smiled and then leaned down to press his lips against yours. It was nothing like what you imagined. It was so much better. His lips were soft, but forceful as he took control and kissed you like two lovers reunited after decades apart.

He stole the breath from your lungs as he swept his tongue inside, exploring your mouth. He sucked on your bottom lip, awakening an ache deep in your lower belly. You sighed and gasped against his mouth, loving the expert way he kissed. He Kissed, with a capital K. The kind that turned you into a giant puddle.

His hands migrated from your lower back to your ass, cupping it in his big hands. You moaned against his mouth, a little embarrassed to make such a sound. Franklin didn’t miss a beat, continuing to kiss your socks off. Well, if you were wearing any.

He pulled back slowly. Both of you were out of breath. You blinked a few times, clearing the lusty daze, before looking into his eyes. “You still sure? You can say no,” he said.

You smiled and pecked him on the lips. “Franklin Saint, take me home now,” you said.

Franklin chuckled and released you. You shivered from the onset of a chill in the air. It was still muggy out, hot enough to know you won’t get any type of cool relief tonight from a fan. Franklin opened your door first and then got into the driver’s seat.

He grabbed your hand and kissed the back of it, before pulling out of the gravel parking lot and headed back to Compton. This type of night, right after rush hour, it didn’t take long to make it back to your house.

Franklin pulled into the driveway and opened your door. You climbed out with a goofy grin on your face. Both of you had been too excited to do much talking. Your hand had been on his thigh the entire ride home.

Franklin told you about all the ways he knew that he liked you. Like in high school, you wore a specific pair of pants that really made your ass stand out. Or when you’d call him by his full name and he felt it in his chest. The way he’d get excited to see you at any function you all hung out together.

You told him about all the times he’d been sweet to you. When you would work on the same project for school or he’d walk you and Mel home. You were across the street so he’d drop you off first and you had to stare out of the window while he walked Mel home. You didn’t tell him that part. But you did tell him that you always hoped he’d ask you to one of the school dances until you learned that he wasn’t much for dancing.

Now that you were at your place, you were completely turned on. Desire rippled through you like waves of heat off of asphalt. The crush that you lovingly tended to these long years burst free. Now, you were just desperate to get him underneath you. Or on top of you. You’d take him any way he wanted to give it to you.

Franklin kept up with you as you went up to your front door and unlocked it. Tucky dumped your things unceremoniously in the living room. You turned on the light with a giggle, moving things out of the way so that you could pass through without falling on anything.

Franklin chuckled with you, closing and locking the door behind you. He looked too inviting standing in the doorway of your house. He’d been inside before, everybody in the group had, but that was different.

Now, you were both adults. Now you were about to do adult things in your house. Your mom would clutch her pearls if she ever knew.

You smiled at Franklin. He smiled back. He limped closer, somehow making that sexy as well. He looked more distinguished than broken. Like the cane was a prop. A way to make people think he was weak when he wasn’t.

He took your hand and led you to your bedroom, knowing the way from memory alone. He didn’t turn on any more lights until he got to your room. Thank god you took down anything embarrassing from your childhood days. Now, the walls were a bit bland since you took down some posters.

You had planned on replacing it, but you didn’t spend long summers back home. You ended up finding a part time job in college, something to give you some spending money while your parents helped with school as best as they were able.

Franklin closed your door and then led you by the hand to your bed. He smiled as he pushed you to sit down. He leaned his cane against the corner of your bed and then moved to kneel.

“You don’t have to–”

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” Franklin said. He grimaced but knelt down, moving in between your legs. Now, you were looking down at him slightly. He pulled you into a sweet, burning kiss that warmed you from the inside out.

As you kissed, his hands began exploring under your shirt. He found the edges and slowly lifted your shirt, warm fingers touching your cold skin. You shivered from the heat of him. The taste of him. You could get drunk from his kisses alone.

There was only the sound of your kissing and breathing, the window closed to the outside world. You were the only two people in existence at the moment. The only two who mattered. You felt like pinching yourself. Never, never, ever in your wildest dreams did you think that you’d be here with Franklin Saint.

You kissed for hours, or it could have been minutes, before Franklin pushed your shirt up and off. His calloused thumbs flicked over your sensitive nipples and you moaned. “Fuck, that feels so good,” you said.

“You feel so good,” Franklin said. He moved his lips down the side of your jaw, down your neck, and to your chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, suckling it to the point of pain. That pain morphed into something dangerously delicious in your lower belly, pooling desire in your panties.

You leaned back on your bed, giving him more access to your chest. His other hand continued to roll your other nipple between his fingers, giving you too much stimulation at once. You were squirming, fidgeting, moaning with pleasure. This was how your first time should have been. It should have been with Franklin Saint.

Franklin switched nipples, giving the other the same attention he lavished on the first. Cool air in the room hit the first nipple, making it bead up. You needed some friction. You rubbed your legs against his chest, needing him way closer than what he was.

Franklin looked up at you from suckling on your nipple. “What you need?” He asked.

“You. I need you,” you cried.

Franklin leaned back from suckling on you and you cried from the lack of contact. He pulled his polo shirt over his head, tossing it onto the ground to join yours. Your eyes looked over his wonderful body. The dark, smooth skin of his chest. The powerful, ripped arms. Franklin was still skinny, but he seemed to have lost the vestiges of boyhood. He was a man, through and through. Lean, honed, and sculpted.

He kissed down your belly. You giggled as he found a few ticklish spots. You ought to feel embarrassed. After all, this was Franklin Saint. The same boy who saw you get sick after eating too much ice cream when you were younger.

But this felt too right. Too destined. Like you were always on a collision course with him and it was only a matter of time before you ended up in this exact position. At the mercy of his loving hands and heavenly mouth.

He moved to undo your pants and he helped you wiggle out of them. You had to lay back and lift your hips in order to get everything off. Franklin grabbed your knees and gently pulled your legs back open, getting a good, long look at your glistening pussy.

Fuck, you felt yourself getting wetter just from seeing the way his eyes got bigger. Like he was a starving man staring down a feast fit for a king. He bit his lip as he trailed a finger through your wetness. You hissed. That contact alone was enough to send you through the roof.

You watched his face as his fingers explored your pussy. Nudging your pussy lips apart, he gathered up enough of your essence to soak his finger. Then he pushed his finger inside of you. You gasped, leaning back on your hands to keep you from just falling back and losing your marbles.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed.

“More, Franklin Saint. Please,” you moaned.

Franklin continued to go slow, moving his eyes from your pussy and to your eyes. He smirked as he fingered you, getting you so wet you were dizzy with arousal. Your skin sizzled. You panted, eyes starting to cross. Just when you thought you were going to go over the edge, Franklin slowed his finger.

You groaned, looking down at him. He smirked as he withdrew his finger altogether. You pouted, ready to complain when he painted your nipples with your essence. He stared at you while he leaned up on his knees and suckled your titties back into his mouth. He alternated between the two.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned. You brought one of your hands to the back of his neck, pushing him down onto your nipple. He chuckled and used his free hand to play with your clit. You jerked, moaning in your room without abandon. You were free to be as loud as you wanted.

You wanted him to hear you. To hear how well he was treating you. Because if you had your say, you would do this every night. Open yourself to him as often as you wanted. It was more than sexual. You knew this man inside and out. You knew his quirks, his habits. Why he smiled or why he smirked. You knew what made him sad and what made him happy. You knew which foods he liked and which sweets made him grin like a kid. You knew him on a deep level and it was enough to make you tear up.

Franklin licked the last of your arousal from your nipples and pulled his finger back out of you. He brought his wet finger up to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

You opened your mouth and sucked on his finger. It was so filthy, it made your pussy clench. You never thought much about tasting yourself. But when he demanded, you jumped to obey. You moaned around his finger, swirling your tongue like you wanted to do around his dick.

As if he sensed the direction of your thoughts, his eyes narrowed and a sexy grin spread across his face. He winked at you before pulling you into a sweet kiss. You sighed, melting into him.

“Lay down,” he said.

You did as you were told, laying on your back completely and getting comfortable. Franklin shifted on the floor, grunting a bit. You felt guilty for him being on his knees for so long, but he made no indication that he was in serious pain. And you didn’t want to ruin this moment by babying him.

He hooked his arms under your knees and yanked you closer to the edge of the bed. You yelped and giggled in response. “I could have moved,” you told him.

“I would have asked,” he said.

You giggled some more, lifting your head to look at him. You gave him a look and all he did was wink once more. He kissed your thighs, looking at you while you did so. Everywhere his lips touched, your thighs tingled. You licked your lips, watching his sexy display before you.

The way his fingers pushed into your plushy thighs. The way he alternated nibbling and kissing your legs, moving closer and closer to the wet center of you. You rolled your hips as he finally put his face where you needed him most.

You were close, you could feel it. You just needed his lips on you. Everywhere on you. Franklin blew a cool breath of air across your heated core and you moaned. He dropped his head and began to lick you.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moaned. You weren’t prepared for how well his mouth would feel on you. Suckling and licking on your clit. Your hand flew to his mini afro, pulling at him like a wild animal. You made all kinds of guttural, primal noises as he seemed to sense exactly what you needed.

He listened to every sigh you made, every moan you uttered. He paid attention to when you got quiet and when you were screeching with pleasure. Incoherent words fell from your lips as he ate you out.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he moaned into you.

He brought one hand up to cup your titty. Your hand found his and you interlocked your fingers. Whether it was that extra connection or the slow way he teased your clit, you were finally screaming through an orgasm. Light and fire exploded behind your eyelids as you came, so consumed by the raging inferno that you couldn’t see or hear anything. Your mind was lost to the intense pleasure you received from Franklin.

Your hand clutched his as you came and came, waves upon waves of fire licking up your body. You released his hand in increments, slowly returning to your body. Pools of sweat gathered in your chest, neck, and back. Your heart was beating a thousand miles per minute.

Franklin moaned as he dragged his lips away from your pussy. You made an entire mess on your bed, but fuck it. Well fucking worth it.

Franklin climbed to his feet, hovering over you with a self-satisfied smirk. “You good?” He asked.

“So, so good,” you said and grinned. You got up slowly from your bed, standing up and stepping close to him. He lifted his eyebrow at you.

You smirked at him as you undid his belt and pulled his pants down. You dropped down to your knees, staring into his dark, beautiful eyes as you did so. He grinned.

“And I thought there could be nothin’ sexier than that ass,” he said.

You giggled. His dick was hard and thick in all the right places. You palmed him. He was so smooth and hard as steel. It amazed you. The feeling of him. You explored his balls as well, so heavy already. It made you ache just thinking of him filling you up. Just a fantasy though, you did not want babies.

You pushed for him to sit and then you scooted in between his legs. You took him into your mouth and Franklin hissed, his hand coming around your neck. He didn’t stop you, so you started to work on him, swirling your tongue around his thick tip.

He moaned, throwing his head back as you sucked his dick, tasting beads of precum as it leaked into your mouth. You played with his balls as well, using your hands to grip the base of his shaft. You let some saliva drip out of your mouth so that you could coat his dick and make it easier to slide your hands.

Every dirty thought or fantasy poured out of you, sucking him exactly as you had in your mind over the years. Every which way you thought to take him, you did. Bobbing your head up and down or massaging his balls just right. You hoped this would lead to more, but if it didn’t, you wanted to give him a night he wouldn’t forget. A night you would always remember over and over again.

“Fuck, baby,” Franklin moaned. You tried to pay attention to his words and actions like he did for you. But this blow job was more about you. You didn’t think you were one for sucking someone off like this, but fuck. Sucking Franklin Saint off did something to you. Turned you feral.

You slurped his dick, lewd sucking noises filling the room and mixed with his soft pleas and curses. He shifted his hips, moving them so that he was meeting your strokes in the middle. You sucked him down further, trying to fit more into your mouth without gagging.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moaned. You kept going. The goal was to make him cum. To make him feel good. To find pleasure in your mouth like you found with his mouth on you. He tried tapping your shoulder but you only continued, looking up into his eyes with a silent dare.

You wanted him to cum in your mouth. He looked at you and cursed as his dick twitched and released hot pulses of cum. You swallowed him down as he continued to release a thick load into your mouth.

He cursed again and again as you swallowed each and every drop. Franklin fell back onto the bed with a sigh and you slowly released his dick. He twitched, sensitive from a powerful orgasm.

You climbed onto the bed, snuggling into him. He panted and huffed. “Stole my damn soul,” he said in between breaths. “Give it back.”

You laughed, loudly, at his corny ass. “No refunds,” you told him and kissed his cheek. He turned his head and kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth. You sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned.

The kiss grew more passionate. Like you were both starving for each other and one hit wasn’t enough. He moved to climb on top of you but hissed with pain instead of desire. You broke the kiss and then pushed him until he was at the head of the bed, cushioned by your pillows.

You climbed off of the bed, finding his pants, his wallet, and then pulling out a condom. You opened the foil package, rolling it into his hardened dick. And that was just from kissing you. You grinned at him as you rolled it on, all the way down to the base. Then you pinched the top to give him some room.

You climbed onto the bed while he watched you with a soft look on his face. You blew him a kiss as you climbed onto him, trying not to hurt him.

“You won’t hurt me,” he said.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you said. And it was so true. So deeply true that you just wanted to make him happy. Make him feel nothing but peace in your presence. Make it worth taking a chance on you.

You lifted off of the bed and then guided him inside of your body. It took a few tries but you finally got him lined up just right. He helped steady you as you sunk down onto his dick. You both shared a moan.

Fuck. He felt so good stretching you that you closed your eyes and savored the feeling. The raw feeling of him inside of you and beneath you. His strong hands around your waist and back, steadying you.

You weren’t always good on top, but you made the effort to last as long as possible. You stayed on your knees, not athletic enough to properly bounce on his dick. You did your best though, moving so that you weren’t grinding on him, you were genuinely riding him.

You watched Franklin’s face, the drops of sweat sliding down the smooth planes of his face. He looked so damn good. From his hair to the goatee on his face. You planted your hands on his thighs, leaning back a bit and took him in deeper at this angle. You continued to bounce and moan, titties flying everywhere.

Franklin quickly solved that, grabbing your titties in his hands and leaning forward to suckle on your nipples while you rode him.

“Feel so good, so good,” you moaned.

“Fuck, ride me so well,” Franklin moaned.

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as you continued to chase the orgasm that was just out of reach. You felt it, getting closer and closer, making your body turn to mush with desire. You clutched Franklin to you as the orgasm finally rippled through you.

A few pumps later, Franklin joined you, roaring out his pleasure as you felt him twitch and jerk inside of you. Your body bowed as his twitching touched a deep part of you. You moaned and collapsed on top of him.

You panted a few times then tried to move, not wanting to crush the poor man. But Franklin tightened his hold on you, bringing his arms to wrap around you.

“Stay just like this,” he whispered softly.

“Franklin Saint,” you muttered, smiling against his damp skin. You licked his chest and felt him shudder beneath you.

“Don’t play with me,” Franklin warned. You turned your head towards him and smiled, giving him a sweet kiss.

“Long overdo,” you said sleepily.

“Way too fuckin’ long,” he said. He kissed the top of your head. He eventually did slip out of you and took off the condom, but you were too wrapped up in each other to want to move. You stayed up until the sky brightened outside, talking and laughing with him until you both drifted off to sleep.

Whew! Need some more Franklin??? The Secret Franklin Saint Files

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unhingedexperimenter · 3 months ago

Note

(You can tag me on my tgs side blog. I also apologize but I know a few Scottish words. So to anyone reading this I apologize for the inaccuracy.) Becky Boxleitner noticed a change in the atmosphere as she and her pet monkey Bob walked into the sixth grade classroom. All of the students were excitedly chatting with one another. Becky and Bob exchanged confused looks at the scene. 'What is going on?' They both thought. Becky walked to where her friends Violet Heaslip, Rose Franklin, and Todd Scoops Ming were sitting, also joining in the excited yet low volume chattering. "Hey guys what's going on?" Becky asked her friends. They each turned their heads to greet their friend. "Hey Becky guess what, we're getting a new teacher for our class!" Scoops exclaimed. Becky looked surprised at the announcement. Bob also mimicked her facial expression. "Wait really? What happened to Miss Davis?" Becky asked, wondering what happened to their old teacher. It was just a week only into the new school year so a sudden teacher exchange was a complete shock to Becky especially since there were no announcements about it beforehand. "Miss Davis had to move back home because of a family emergency." Rose Franklin answered. "The principal had to scramble to find a new teacher to fill in for our class. It was all last minute stuff." Becky nodded in understanding of her friends' answers. It was a nice perk to be friends who were upcoming reporters. Soon the final bell rang which indicated for every student to take their seats. Becky took her place beside her best friend Violet and Bob plopped down next to her. Soon a man who looked to be in his mid 30s walked in and towards the desk. He had curly brown air, an arched nose, and reddish brown eyes. He wore a tan button-down shirt with a red vest as well as brown slacks and dark suede shoes. The man gave a pleasant and warm smile to all the students there. "Hello my name is Dr. Henry Jekyll and I will be your teacher for the school year." Becky and the other kids ears perked up as they took note of the man's accent. Even Tobey became slightly interested in his new teacher. None of them were sure where their new teacher was from. Dr. Jekyll gave a light chuckle as if he could sense their growing curiosity about him. He lightly clapped his hands together to gain their undivided attention and focus. "Well since this is my first time teaching here, why don't we all play a little game so we can all get better acquainted with each other. Here's what to do. One at a time, say your name and share a wee bit about yourself. Likes, family, interests and all that. I'll go first to show ya what ah mean. Again. My name is Dr. Henry Jekyll. I was born in Glasgow but ah moved to London where I attended university. I have a five year old wee lassie or daughter named Amber. I enjoy chemistry and reading on occasions. Now who would like to go next?" @unhingedexperimenter

Of course Tobey had taken the opportunity to place attention on himself and to have a reason to boast about himself. “My name is Tobey McCallister the third and I will be the most intelligent student you'll meet here.” The others had rolled their eyes, used to this kind of behavior from their peers. Becky seemed to be the most annoyed by it. Having been forced to put up with his destructive tantrums in the past. Henry smiled just as warmly as before. Unbothered by the obnoxious behavior that the boy had been displaying. Tobey had been going on about himself for a good few minutes before the teacher finally spoke up. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for that Mr. McCallister. Would anyone else like to tell me a bit about themselves as well?” No one could tell that behind the facade, Dr. Henry Jekyll was becoming more irritated by the moment. Not by the child but by the pest that refused to leave him be. Scoffing within his head at what they just heard. He didn't share the disembodied voice's opinion but wanted to give the other children a chance to introduce themselves as well. To the others' shock, Tobey seemed to have taken this well. Quickly going back to his desk with no issues. Becky was relieved at that. Soon the other children had started to introduce themselves to their new teacher with little to no issues. He seemed genuinely nice enough to her. This new teacher didn't seem like most of the adults within this city. Some she had to define words repeatedly for. Dr. Jekyll knew what he was teaching and knew his vocabulary. It was Violet who had brought Becky out from her own thoughts, calling her name. Waving a hand in front of her face. “Becky?” The girl smiled in an embarrassed manner. “Huh? Yes?” Violet smiled, patient with her best friend. “Why don't you introduce yourself now? Nearly everybody else already did.” She had given a surprised expression. Becky hadn't realized that she was so lost within her thoughts until then. She stood up and began speaking. “My name is Becky Boxleitner and I also like libraries,reading and Pretty Princess.” The presence that was grating at the teacher's nerves had deemed this too dull to enjoy. Leaving Dr. Jekyll be to his teaching. Well, getting to know his students. He was happy to see that they were engaged in these activities that were meant to break the ice. Though one student in particular had caught his attention the most. Becky. While she did seem rather bright, there was something strange about her behavior at times. Pausing whatever she was doing at the time to listen in on something. Thinking it went unnoticed. Even once looking alarmed and she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. He had allowed it. Feeling that it would've been better to have let her. It seemed…oddly familiar. As if he had seen that behavior somewhere before but couldn't figure out exactly where from. When the school day was finally over, Becky had gone to go home like the others. Dr. Jekyll had of course stayed behind to set more things up within his new classroom. Making a plan on exactly what he'll actually start teaching the next day. Though, the grating voice had returned to be a thorn in his side. “Come on. Leave this boring stuff alone. Leave it until tomorrow. I've been pent up for far too long. Let's have some fun.” This had earned an eye roll and a loud huff from the teacher. “No, I've got to get this done now. You will have enough time tonight. Just be patient until then.” A shadowy figure formed in front of Dr. Jekyll. A frown on its face. “But this is so extremely dull. I want to stretch my legs. I want to make myself known already.” Dr. Jekyll glared. “And that is precisely why I'm so hesitant to let you out so soon. At least let us get acclimated to our surroundings first.” The figure let out an annoyed groan. “You know you want this as much as I do. Otherwise you'd never have any actual fun in the sad and pathetic life you call yours.”

@thecountoflondonfansite

#rp

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good-night-space-kid · 14 days ago

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Geology and The Terror

As a geologist who is incapable of turning off their geology brain even while watching shows for fun, one of the things that baffles me a bit about The Terror is why they continuously refer to the landscape as shale when both King William Island and the filming location in Pag, Croatia are dominated by limestone. Given the desolation of the landscape, the geology is rather at the forefront of many scenes so it was fun to try and parse it out as I watched.

King William Island, Nunavut, Canada

According to the official map of the bedrock of the region as published by the Canadian government (Harrison et al., 2015), the entirety of King William Island is mapped as dolostone, dolomitic limestone, and limestone with only minor components of shale, sandstone, conglomerate, and breccia. This is a shelf marine deposit dating back to the Late Cambrian, so this is very old sedimentary rock but younger than most of the surrounding hard rock that composes various parts of the Canadian shield. Notably, the pink units mapped on the Boothia Peninsula are Paleoproterozoic in age (2.5-1.6 billion years old), potentially up to 2 billion years older than the limestones of King William Island.

(This is an absolutely massive .pdf file with some scaled features so I would recommend viewing via the official publication to actually read anything or see fine details: publications.gc.ca/pub?id=9.557274&sl=0)

Notably, this map was published in 2015, 8 years after the novel was written. However, according to the bibliography for the map (which can be accessed via the previous link) a preliminary geologic map has existed for the area since at least 1967, though I was unable to track this publication down online. The novel was clearly thoroughly researched and Dan Simmons could have easily accessed this publication and others through multiple institutions.

The surficial geology of King William Island has also been mapped, and is predominantly glacial, as one would expect given it's location. For those unfamiliar with glacial geology processes, this is basically saying that the bedrock is buried under a bunch of glacial deposits. Glacial till is composed of rocks and sediments plucked from the bedrock and ground up. This is why the surface of the island is not one big rock, but a bunch of smaller pieces. Interestingly, the material on the southern part of the island is sandier because it contains more material derived from the Canadian Shield further south. If you're interested in glacial geology, I highly recommend zooming around a bit on Google Earth because the features here are GORGEOUS.

(This map is absolutely massive and the lines scale with zoom so it's hard to see at this resolution, access it here: publications.gc.ca/pub?id=9.834073&sl=0)

(Google Earth Pro, satellite imagery from 2020)

According to the surface geology map and Google Earth, the actual landscape of King William Island is much more water logged than it appears in the show. It's not entirely impossible that there has been some geomorphological change since 1848, but most of the features mapped would have been formed during the last ice age and as the glaciers melted and not more recently. This would have been handy for the men of the Franklin Expedition because each of these pools is filled with freshwater.

Pag, Croatia

Tracking down a geologic map of Croatia was somewhat challenging as I don't speak Croatian. I was able to find a map of the whole country, and while it's all in Croatian the symbol for the geologic time periods is universal so time periods can be correlated. This shows that the units that make up Pag are Cretaceous and Paleocene-Eocene in age.

(Map accessed here: https://www.hgi-cgs.hr/en/geoloska-karta-republike-hrvatske-1300-000/)

I was able to find a .pdf (access here: http://kig.kartografija.hr/index.php/kig/article/view/158/274) that had a bit more information on the map above but at a lower resolution. This states that the Cretaceous units are dominantly carbonates from the Adriatic sea and the Eocene units are also carbonates. This makes sense as both the Cretaceous and Paleocene-Eocene boundary/PETM are times of increased global temperature correlated with increases in global sea level.

As always, the best geology website out there, Macrostrat, also came through on the unit lithologies. I was unable to access the source listed on Macrostrat, but both the Cretaceous (green) and Paleocene-Eocene units (orange) are listed as limestone.

(Source: https://macrostrat.org/map/#x=16&y=23&z=2)

One of the best views that we get of the geology on Pag is the last scene with Bridgens in episode 9. During the zoom out of this scene we get a really nice view of the bedrock and debris covering it.

Given all of this, I'm really not sure where the landscape description as shale came from. If there is historical precedence for calling the rocks on the island shale, let me know! I have read a few books but none of the primary sources from the expeditions to this region, so if it comes from that I wouldn't be surprised.

Overall though, I have to say that the filming location was well chosen given the similarities it holds to the geology of King William Island.

#the terror #i have no idea whether this is of interest to anybody else #but i haven't been able to stop thinking about it since i started the show #because obviously the first thing i did was open up macrostrat to see what the geology was like #geology #peter posts #fr though the scene with bridgens is top tier in terms of getting a good view of the geology #it only took me three watches of the show to cave and make a post about it #franklin expedition

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mylittleredgirl · 2 months ago

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continuing the theme of “sometimes the babylon 5 universe includes fucked-up things in a way where we are clearly supposed to notice that and go damn that's fucked up, and sometimes it includes stuff that nobody in-universe is bothered by at all but keeps me up nights” let’s talk about the dilgar!!!

(isn’t it a waste of a really cool makeup design to only see them once? not my point tho)

it's established that the dilgar were Really Really Bad Guys, Like Seriously Not Good. they’re a narrative parallel of nazi germany in space: invading all their neighbors and committing doctor mengele war crimes. it’s not clear if the dilgar ever invaded earth space or if earth just d-day’d their way into the war to prevent that in advance, but earth and friends repelled the invasion and drove them all back to berlin 30 years ago, and then their sun went supernova and they ALL died.

it's the complete certainty everyone has in-universe that they are 100% extinct that messes with me. like there are NO dilgar at all (except one lady, now also dead; good riddance to her specifically). the dilgar have been so thoroughly wiped out that doctor franklin, noted xenobiology nerd, doesn't recognize or know anything about them, and babylon 5's medical system has no information.

this was a spacefaring species advanced enough to clearly have a vast interstellar footprint, and i wonder if their ruthless empire expansion was related to an impending supernova. i’m not saying that as like a Dilgar War Crimes Apologist but it does kind of change the tone of “we drove them back to their homeworld” if you know the SUN is going to explode. and it seems awfully thorough that NONE of them were left outside their solar system or were able (allowed?) to evacuate in time.

i get that they’re Irredeemably Bad, but you’d think there would still be an “it’s a shame about The Children” hushed moment when it’s mentioned in “deathwalker” that they were entirely wiped out, you know? it’s a tidy problem that was solved.

anyway i think about it all the time and nobody on screen thinks about it at all.

#babylon 5 #yes i’m clearing out my unfinished b5 meta posts before sparktober!

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occamstfs · 8 months ago

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How To Be A Father

This was meant to be a shorter one but it seems to have gotten away from me, I hope you enjoy! I’ve got a special one coming later this week! Gonna do a little epistolary/diary multi TF to celebrate 500 Followers !! - Occam

Franklin’s older brother, Jack, was a soon-to-be dad, he is terribly nervous about raising a kid, as anyone should be. Franklin was looking for some way he could show his support. His eyes scan the shelves of the local bookstore, sure that there must be something of use in the advice section. He has only just graduated university and remains in a sea of uncertainty but at the very least he could buy his brother some pittance of a self-help book.

There wasn’t exactly a sea of options available, many of them were clearly religious, some were on raising children in other cultures, one particularly gaudy one was a guide on rearing the perfect American citizen. Franklin prepared to throw in the towel and order a book to be delivered, before at the end of the aisle he saw a simple clear cover, upon which was written, “How To Be A Father.” It didn’t even have the author’s name on the front. Franklin couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued as he goes to pick it up.

As he does so it’s almost as if the lights of the store dim as the monochrome cover continues to call out to him. Before checking the contents he checks the back looking for any hint of what lies between the pages and finds another completely featureless page. At this point Franklin’s eyes would usually roll as he returns this obnoxious marketing mishap to the shelf, but instead his brows furrow. He simply must know what is inside. He rushes to open to the first page as his mind can only obsessively demand the contents of the book.

He opens to the middle of the guide, stumbling on a photo of what may as well be the platonic ideal of man. Franklin’s stomach lurches in discomfort, his heart pangs knowing he could never be such a man, as the image in front of him. His eyes trace the jawline defined even through a dense beard. He hungers to be even a hundredth as masculine as the imagine in front of him. Franklin glances at the next page hoping for some recipe to be just like him, rubbing his hairless jaw as he turns eyes blurring as he reads the sentence:

"A Real Father Is Strong."

He audibly grunts as he reads the sentence and holds that exemplar of man in his mind. He doesn’t dare desire to be a father, but strength. How could he not want that? He looks down the page hoping for work out tips but his eyes find no purchase as the words blur together. Nevertheless he stares at the smudges, willing them to give him answers, as the book begins to work its own will unto him.

Franklin has spent little time on his body. It has never been a priority for him, and yet now he wants strength? The book grows warm in his hands as his eyes roll back. He bites his lip as he feels the warmth begin to surge from the book into his arms. Veins begin to bulge in his hands as they continue up his arms. His hands grow calluses from day after day of lifting iron. His forearms burst forth growing to a size larger than his calves are currently. He feels his shirt soon grow tight around his biceps as muscle begins to bulge. Thick veins appear down the direct center of his arms as he is overcome with pleasure.

The strength does not stop flowing into him as his arms start to rip open his sleeves however. Just as soon as his massive biceps make room for themselves his chest begins to demand its own attention. Muscles that he didn’t even know he had cramp on his chest as pecs burst out of his chest shooting buttons down the aisle. Just after this he feels his back expand similarly giving him a wingspan he never dreamed he could achieve. His knees buckle as he feels the warmth force itself into his lower body.

He slams to the floor loudly as his growing limbs fall out from under him. Sensing challenge from the forearms his calves rip holes into his pants as they reach a size and definition of a bodybuilder and his thighs swiftly follow suit creating a tear from his waist down to his feet, fully exposing Franklin’s lower body as he struggles to stay conscious. Not to be out done he feels his feet begin to press against to press against the boundaries of his shoes, the tongue bulging out as he starts to hear the fabric tear before he’s interrupted-

“Um, Excuse me sir? Do you need help up?,” asks a clerk at the bookstore, seeing Franklin on the floor.

Franklin’s face blazed red at being caught in such a compromising position as he shoots up to standing. “I! So sorry I don’t-“ he struggles to explain what he thinks happened having fully lost himself in his growth. As he looks down at himself however he sees that although his clothes are fitting tighter, there are no rips to be seen. His nipples make themselves well apparent through the polo, but his sleeves remain untorn, and his pants hug his waist and ass but are clearly in one piece. There is also a massive bulge in his pants though it is thankfully not growing at the moment.

Franklin starts to make small talk with the clerk who checked on them but before getting very far he is thrown off guard as the clerk replies, “I don’t know sir”. Why the kid keeps calling him sir? Kid? Franklin is sure they’re about the same age the kid can’t be less than twenty three? Well wait? Franklin isn’t twenty three either, that had to have been? Franklin feels his mind start to heat up as a massive headache starts to build. He stares down at his feet as the clerk once more grows concerned.

The problem does not stay for long however as he sees the book he was so obsessed with is on the floor. That can’t be right! As he goes to pick it up he finds it is on a new page! Excited to learn what new wisdom lies in store he is greeted once more with an all too eye catching man. It’s a mirror selfie which should have no place in what is presumably an advice book. His body is absolutely shredded as he smirks from the page, but even more eye-catching is his massive cock.

Franklin does his best to look away from this clear attempt at softcore porn lest he have yet another issue growing out of his clothing. Unfortunately the text opposite the image is even less help to this end, Franklin can’t help himself but read:

"A Real Father Is Horny."

If the power flowing into him from the book filled him with pleasure, it was truly nothing compared to the energy and desire burning through his veins now. The clerk's eyes widen as the sound of fabric stretching emanates from Franklin’s crotch before being immediately followed by the loud tear of a zipper bursting off. He quickly looks away before seeing whatever has apparently burst from Franklin's pants as he stares at the man in shock.

The embarrassment only heightens Franklin's ecstasy, his clothes caress his powerful body as he feels his balls pulse as he feels them shift into overdrive, begging Franklin for release as they fill his barely hanging on briefs. Briefly keeping his lust at bay he looks up to see the clerk still in front of him and chokes back a grunt of hunger. His body flexes to pounce before he hesitates, god, he looks like he could be my kid. But that would- That can’t be right.

Before he can question any further he feels his balls grow even bluer as his cock begins to create rips in his underwear. Putting off his lust just long enough to avoid criminal charges he runs from the man who he could have sworn was his age, or his son’s age? His breath catches in his chest as he storms down the aisle. He feels his nipples scratch against his shirt as pre soaks through his increasingly torn briefs. He clenches his jaw to avoid moaning as he leaves a trail of sweat in his wake, barely making it inside the restroom and locking the door.

The cool air shocks his body as he holds his sweaty body against the door. Directly across from him is the mirror, seeing himself sets his hunger aflame higher than anybody can sustain. He sees his cock fully burst from his pants, sticking out straight from his crotch, the length he would’ve sworn his forearm was. Looking back to the mirror he flexes at himself and fully loses the ability to hold back. He moans as he cums without even touching his cock. His balls pulse as they continue producing five more loads to take the place of this one as he slides against the door, leaving a trail of sweat on the door as he moans and closes his eyes.

When he reopens them he finds himself in a thankfully different scene. There is no sign that he came all over the floor of a public restroom and he did not have a boner burst from his pants in front of that clerk. He’s been this horny his whole life, he knows how to handle himself. Fuck did he turn him on though. Franklin decides he needs to masturbate more, can’t be getting so horny for college hunks now that his son’s going to school. Fuck! He doesn’t have a son! Franklin knows something horrible is happening but before he can even start to make a connection he sees in front of him, precisely where he thought he came on the floor, his book. Lying open to a new page. He hasn’t the willpower to even feign resistance. He sees a powerful bear of a man. Franklin craves his power. He craves his virility. He needs to be more like him. He doesn’t even need to read the page opposite for it is already ingrained into him.

"A Real Father Is Mature."

He burps as his tight abs quickly begin to soften and slightly bloat into what can only be described as a dad bod. He rubs his still growing stomach as his pubes inch above his waistline and shadow the whole of his torso. His body loses definition though he of course exercises to stay tight and strong as any real father should. He feels his hairline then as dark arm hair inches up towards his shoulders. He smirks as he reaches up to scratch at his ever-present stubble. Exposing his hairier pit to the fresh air, he laughs as his mind is filled with thousands of jokes, each worse than the last. You could say he’s Armed for every occasion he laughs as he flexes at himself in the mirror, each chuckle sounding deeper than the last.

Frank looks in the mirror ahead of him and feels and starts to chub up once more. He looks younger than he remembers being, although with each laugh at his own jokes his hair starts to grey and his forehead lines grow deeper. Each final change cementing him as a real father like the book suggests. He needs to go try these dad jokes out on an audience now. His son Jack would love to hear them.

Frank feels content looking at the book in front of him. This will be the perfect gift for his kid. This thing’ll make a dad out of anyone, lord knows it's worked wonders for him! Frank chuckles to himself, as his stubble grows out into a beard, thinking about whatever less-than-clever joke he’ll tell his son when he gives it to him as he heads out of the bookstore. He eyes the clerk that went to help him earlier as a hunger begins to build within Frank once more. The twink seems to be looking at a book on the shelf as if he’s never seen one before. He starts to reach out to its white cover as he thinks to himself, couldn’t hurt to see what’s inside.

#male tf #masculinization #jockification #age progression #mental change

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boinin · 9 months ago

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Batten down the hatches: Rin's ego is about to land

The latest chapters show Rin playing with an unfamiliar aura: what looks like swirling rivulets of water.

This represents the refinement of his ego and playstyle since the under-20 match. But what exactly are they going for with the swirling water? Here's my two cents.

Rin is strongly associated with water, specifically the sea. He grew up by the coast; he and Sae shared a love of watching the sunset over the water after training together. Those childhood memories are turbulent now, like dark clouds on the ocean's horizon.

It's here he realises that he can no longer play the puppetmaster football that helped him thrive in Blue Lock. As good as he is, it wasn't authentic... and it's nowhere near where he needs to be to compete with his brother, or even Isagi.

Rin's flow state is the most unique out of any others we've seen. Let's dig into it. All panels are from the official translation, which is important as the translation choices are 1) consistent and 2) likely chosen carefully.

In the dying moments of the match, Rin complains about feeling restrained. Being Itoshi Rin is eating him alive.

Cool, calm and aloof.

A genius. Prodigy. Puppetmaster.

Team player. Team captain.

Isagi Yoichi's partner. Shidou Ryuusei's rival.

Itoshi Sae's little brother.

The prospect of defeat rudely wakes him up. His pretence comes crashing down hard, triggered by his ineffectiveness in spite of the teammates around him. It's one of the best rugpulls in sports manga.

When the power of friendship comes knocking, Itoshi Rin tells it to fuck off and die.

What a glorious moment... and not just because it posits Rin as a Uchiha Sasuke kinnie. I prompt you to examine his eyes in this panel.

They're a swirling vortex of hate and destruction, befitting Blue Lock's angstiest character. The shape reminds me of this:

Satellite images of Hurricane Franklin and Hurricane Idalia, August 2023. Image credit: NOAA Satellites.

Rin's true ego, which he unleashes against Sae, is a storm.

youtube

Optional soundtrack for the rest of this post (because Rin 100% listens to this once it comes out in Blue Lock's universe).

Although it isn't portrayed visually as such in the under-20 arc, the metaphor fits Rin's evolving playstyle. What is more destructive, more uncontrollable, more senseless than a hurricane? A violent force of nature that we can predict but never avert?

When a storm approaches, all we can do is rank it, track it, then attempt to mitigate the inevitable damage.

In football terms? Sounds a lot like playing Rin.

It's even alluded to in chapter 250: the graphics for Rin's formation are similar to the satellite images of large storms.

Within the U20 match, there are exchanges that support this theory. Darai calls Rin's evolving playstyle arrogant and avaricious. The latter (meaning extreme greed) is evocative of a force that pursues what it wants without regard for anything in its surroundings. What it can't have, it destroys.

Niou is confident enough in his physicality to try withstand his opponent's attrack. Rin literally flips him into the air. Niou's hubris brings to mind all man-made constructs which are supposedly storm-proof... until a cyclone comes along and proves otherwise.

The contrast between Rin and Sae's egos are interesting. If we accept Rin's is a storm, i.e. a destructive force of nature that cannot be controlled, Sae's is the opposite despite being as impossible to defy. Sae's motif is defined in the manga as "beautiful destruction", plays and passes depicted in graceful data strings. Rather than natural, his playstyle is sleek and controlled, and dominant to the point of appearing pre-ordained by his opponents.

Their attitudes are equally different. While Rin drools and loses composure in the final minutes, Sae does little more than raise his eyebrows throughout the entire game. He's completely emotionless.

It's the extremes of human nature: animalistic rage versus robotic detachment. This time, the latter wins. Will Rin have an opportunity to face his brother again, with a better grasp on his ego? Here's hoping.

My final thoughts on Rin are speculative. How does one beat a storm? Not just endure—but subdue and calm one?

It's beyond human capability. The ability to control the weather exists only in myth and fantasy, and even then it's usually in the hands of powerful entities, not mere heroes or wizards.

Subduing something as powerful as a hurricane would require a god.

Is this Isagi and Rin's endgame?

Time will tell.

#blue lock #blue lock analysis #blue lock meta #itoshi rin #itoshi sae #isagi yoichi #i missed doing long analysis posts ❤️#this was fun to pull together #bllk analysis #blue lock spoilers #blue lock anime spoilers #boinin talks bllk #mine #long post

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prickly-paprikash · 11 months ago

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There are two ways I see that SpyxFamily can go with the Authens.

Ever since we've been introduced to the world of SxF, last names have always been an indicator of who exactly it is we're dealing with.

The Forgers are literally a Forged Family. No-brainer.

Yor and Yuri Briar: both beautiful people but with sharp thorns to protect themselves and one another. Their coloring and their characters are related to Roses and Yor is literally Thorn Princess.

Fiona Frost: Ice Cold. Frosty Exterior. Snow Queen. Warm and melty and obsessed on the inside.

Franky Franklin: Frank, honest and blunt. He's always up-front with Twilight since the beginning. Franklin also comes from the word francos meaning 'free'. He's a free agent, allied with Twilight but not with WISE, since he is an Ostanian. He's also the first true free-thinker, holding no allegiance to any state but cares genuinely for the people around him.

The Desmonds: meaning South Munster, one of the provinces of Munster. While it doesn't necessarily have a defined meaning, it is said that the lucky number of this name is 11, and Damian is ranked 11th amongst 228 students for the exams. Neat.

So Authens, right? Sigmund and Barbara Authen. If Loid, Yor, Anya and Bond are a forged family, then Siggy and Barbs are an authentic one from the getgo. Ever since the introduction of these two, everyone has both been over-the-moon and skeptical. It's nice to add new members to the family in this show. It's nice to see a foil (and an insight into the future for them) to Yor and Loid, where the elderly couple are genuine in their love, while Twilight and Thorn Princess still struggle with what exactly their fake relationship entails. Sigmund and Barbara trust one another completely, while the Spy and the Assassin still have ways to go on that front.

Now, Anya is being tutored by Sigmund, a former University Professor, Lecturer and Neurologist. Similar to Loid in a way, who moonlights as a Psychiatrist. The Authens aren't just being shown as a "what could be" for Loid and Yor as a couple, but as parents and mentors as well as seen in this chapter.

Both Loid and Sigmund get into Spy Wars for the sake of educating their students. The difference however lies in the way they go about it.

Loid reads and watches the entirety of Spy Wars to show that he is a good father with a pulse on what his daughter likes, as well as an avenue for him to teach Anya since she responds well to the show. But Loid only memorizes the show and tries to brute force (relatively speaking) Anya's education with it.

Like... making a fake episode of the show just to try and make Anya interested in her studies.

Sigmund on the other hand really sparks a love and understanding for the material itself.

Loid tries to force Anya to see the value in education through cold logic and goal-oriented thinking. Anya should study to Prevent War from erupting between Ostania and Westalis. Sigmund guides Anya into seeing the worth of education by itself. The joys in learning for learning's sake. Loid tries a surface level approach, where Bondman's adventures are hamfisted edu-tainment. He thinks that since Anya likes Bondman, she'll be tricked into learning by using Spy Wars as a coat of paint to mask a really boring lecture.

Sigmud correctly identifies what Anya loves about the story itself, and then uses those elements to relate to classical language.

Loid and Yor are committed to their duties, but it doesn't necessarily bring them joy. To keep children safe and happy, Twilight will lie and Thorn Princess will kill, but their personal satisfaction isn't something they bother about. Sigmund, on the other hand loved his job. He loves teaching. He loves the altruistic element to it—cultivating minds, helping them along to their full potential, but he also has a personal joy in teaching.

Another thing is that Loid loves his family, but doesn't know he does and can't spit it out. He can come off stoic and cold. Sigmund readily shows his appreciation for his wife and for his new student Anya.

What troubles me now is what happens next.

Authen does mean authentic. I have no doubt that Sigmund authentically loves his wife. His love for his research is also authentic. His passion for teaching is authentic. His admiration for Anya is authentic.

But what's the context of this authenticity?

See, the first route is that Sigmund really is just a good guy. A simple, kind, brilliant man who probably had a hand in building Project Apple from the ground up with the goal of improving people's minds, starting with dogs. Maybe it was co-opted by corrupt officials, twisting it into a monstrous organization willing to harm children and animals to realize their goals for a powerful human weapon. A weapon that became Anya Forger. Sigmund and Barbara leave, aid in the war effort for civilians and victims, and make a life for themselves in Berlint. I do believe this might be the likelier option.

But what if the contrast between the Forgers and the Authens is taken to the extreme?

The second route takes advantage of the inherent and subtle darkness in SpyxFam. This manga is just a bundle of gooey joy, but that happiness successfully hides the brutal truth of the world. Every character in this show is touched by war.

Anya and Bond are intended as living weapons. We tend to forget about this since Anya is a goblin child and Bond is floofy goofball.

Twilight and Yor are orphans of war, turned into the most powerful soldiers on each side. We forget this since both are idiots when it comes to anything each other and their family.

Handler is a level-headed badass who radiates older sister vibes for everyone who works under her, and she genuinely cares for her agents. She's also a depressed wreck who barely functions outside of work and constantly relives the loss of her husband and daughter.

The Blackbells? Posh rich folk, right? But their money comes from warmongering. Martha, the kindly mother-figure/butler/security for Becky? A veteran of war. The seamstress who is fond of Yor? Most likely an anti-authoritarian activist, since Loid clocked her immediately as being arrested for political activity. Maybe a former Red Circus member. Bazooka Bill? Funny kid who hit puberty way too early and has a hilarious deep voice. He's also being groomed to be a venerated soldier at the age of six by his father, who has most likely committed war crimes.

SpyxFamily is genuine in its joyful moments. But it barely hides the darkness that constantly lingers. War is a shadow that haunts these bright pages, and it always recontextualizes the zany adventures our family goes on.

What if the Authens are like that?

Everything about them is authentic. But they're also twisted. An authentic love for neuro science can lead to an obsessive march towards human weaponry. An authentic desire for world peace can mean that the end justifies the means, even if that means a telepath that could, theoretically dominate an entire nation. An authentic love for his wife could lead him to hiding everything from her.

What if Sigmund Authen is authentic in every aspect of himself, and is still a man with a dark agenda? That would perfectly contrast Loid, a man who has faked every single element of himself down to his own name and identity, but has never once strayed from his goal of ensuring a bright future for the strangers around him?

What I'm saying is that it'd be really cool if Twilight, a living lie made human who will commit to any deception for the sake of children's safety and happiness would be heavily contrasted by Sigmund Authen, a man who lives so authentically to his creed that he is willing to put children in harm's way for the sake of World Peace?

With the upcoming chapters clearly focusing on Anya and her past, wouldn't it be cool to celebrate Spy x Family hitting 100 chapters by revealing more and more of its dark, haunting, war-torn world after more than a hundred chapters of Spy Family antics?

Uh... Anyway, here's Comedy by Gen Hoshino.

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