#pope daddy

[nemesyaaa]

dbf!pope x reader by @princessbrunette bc i'm obssessed (moodboard !)

“ take my hand, and baby, won't you walk with me? ”

[jjmaybankssurfergf]

Outer Banks POUGELANDIA

OBX BRAZIL 🇧🇷

[syrma-sensei]

Oscar Isaac in almost every random frame:

[rafesthroatbaby]

who’s going home with you ?

[jamneuromain]

Addictive Chapter 1

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x PhD Candidate!Reader (You)

Warning: Unconventional Sugar Daddy!Santiago Garcia, Implied age gap (Santiago is in his late 30s, reader in her mid-20s), first meet, fluff, TW: conversation over drug abuse

Summary: The beginning of an unconventional sugar relationship.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: I solemnly blame @innorogers for indulging me with sugar daddy!Santiago Gargia thoughts, and in addition, my thanks to @bigtreefest with her help on med school experiences.

Prologue< | Chapter 1 | >Chapter 2

Chapter 1 Sober

I do medicine.

>

*

Brown.

There’s a small bowl of brown powder right next to the coffee machine.

You retreat a couple of steps to observe the bizarre object.

The coffee machine, that one you know from the bottom of your heart. Someone specifically duck-taped the signage of “Cold” and “Hot” in ballpoint over the original buttons because they were worn out. The black crispy paint fell from all edges and corners of this crappy machine since it was moved around a lot. Legend has it that this machine nearly retired from the shared common room of the Physics Department and the Chemistry Department before it was rehired for the Med School.

The application for a new coffee machine was delivered to the Head of Pharmacology over a year ago, and some grad students were waging over whether the paperwork ended up in the Head of Pharmacology, Professor Yovanna Castillo’s private lab as nest materials for her rats.

No, that’s old news. This is new … You watch the brown powder cautiously, giving it a careful whiff.

You know someone on this level is doing a project that includes marihuana extractions, you honestly hope they didn’t leave their product here.

The strong spice knocks your brain dead for a minute before you can hastily put it back down and sneeze in the other direction.

Nutmeg?

“Oh, I’d probably not touch it if I were you.” Diego swoops into the breakroom, smooth as always, grabbing his mug from the counter, his eight white teeth on display as he spreads into a big smile, “Is that the marihuana product Professor Parker and Drew and their grads were working on? Gosh, I hope they don’t just leave this stuff around unattended.”

Diego got into the Pharma PhD program the same year as you did. He swoons every woman, from the age of eight to eighty with his warm, affectionate smile. Your friendship bonds over the shared catastrophic studying experience and your failed experiments. Although he looks into a different research field, that doesn’t stop you from helping each other now and then, from looking after lab rats to picking up his drunken ass in clubs you have only heard of.

You cough and wave in front of your nose to clear the smell, “No. Just spice. Nutmeg.” You frown, heavily, and ask in disbelief, “Who puts nutmeg in their coffee?”

Diego gives the brown nutmeg powder a whiff and pours a lethal dosage into his porcelain mug before placing it under the machine. His mug has that funny PhD joke on it that makes you smile every time.

I study famarcology phamacology pharmacologee I do medicine.

Diego shrugs behind his funny mug, “I do.”

“Lucky you.” You murmur darkly, grabbing your lukewarm coffee and gulping down as much caffeine as possible.

Diego downs his nutmeg coffee – a pure abomination, in your opinion – and frowns too: “You didn’t bring the nutmeg.”

“’ Course I didn’t.” You look taken aback, deeply offended, “I don’t want anything to ruin the coffee!”

“So, who did? And nutmeg coffee is brilliant. Chef kiss to whoever came up with this idea.” Diego looks pointedly at you making your second cup of coffee with milk and sugar and no nutmeg, “Milk ruins coffee, honey.”

You make a gasted expression at his mug, clutching yours tightly to warm your numb fingers. It is too early to be called winter, but the morning wind did a number of things that are close to getting your hand frost-bite. You have never been so grateful that your ugly university-issued mug conducts heat faster than the metal handles of almost every door on the campus.

“So … who brought the nutmeg. That’s the question.” Your gaze floats between the small bowl of nutmeg and Diego, the latter one shrugs again.

“I did.” Professor Castillo, Head of Pharmacology, clicks her heels on the ground at the door, “Kindly advise you both against occupying this break room because we have a potential donor who would be coming in …” She raises her wrists to take a look at her iWatch, “Fifteen minutes.”

You and Diego exchange a look.

Diego mouths, “Money’s on the lab rat nests.”

You chew on your lower lip from smiling too hard.

“Don’t you have a TA session in ten, Mr. Martinez?” Professor Castillo purses her perfectly lined lips, her eyes narrowing like a sharp dagger, her hair in a ponytail, soft and smooth, and not a single hair out of place like a conditioner commercial, “You know how the faculty views tardiness for undergrad courses.”

“Yes, Professor Castillo.” Diego dumps his mug into the sink and flees the scene.

“I have … my rats to attend to.” Bullshit because all your rats died yesterday. Your research is a total bust. You need a few new ones, that’s for sure. But it’s a good enough reason for you to escape the piercing look from Castillo.

“One second -” She stops you by the door.

“Uh, yes, Professor?”

She examines you with her disapproving look, from head to toe.

Lab coat, check. Jeans, check. White sneakers, check. Bright orange sweater with crimson ketchup stain, check.

You button your lab coat with flames flaring your cheeks, hoping that this will cover the stain. It must have gone up there when you had your breakfast earlier this morning.

“Never mind.” Professor Castillo huffs with her slit nostrils, “Just a reminder to be more careful of laboratory regulations of no food and drink allowed. Off you go.”

You slip from her claws as if your sneakers turned into roller skates. Your heartbeat is in a frantic state from the breakroom to the shared lab where you and a few other grad students cohabit. The beating remains for a few minutes as you pick out new rats for your experiment.

From the transparent glass walls of your lab, you see that Professor Castillo storms out of the breakroom and swipes her keycard on her way out.

Your phone pings as you drug the rats with heroin.

Diego: Is it just me or the faculty seems empty today?

Diego: No one bothered to come to work besides phds?

**

Three hours of watching mice getting stoned and recording data passed. Then an hour lunch break. Then it’s your TA sessions for Biochem 101 and Introduction to Microbiology, which would last three hours and a half.

By the end of your TA session, Professor Castillo nearly blew up your phone with five missed calls and a very polite but restricted “Please call back, it’s urgent”.

“Professor Castillo? Sorry, my phone was silenced because I was -”

“Yes. Yes. Doesn’t matter.” Professor Castillo cuts through your explanation curtly, “Our donor wants to speak with you.”

“Now?” You pause a second to look at the clock at the far end of the wall, “I - I think I have a couple of minutes. I have another … thing … elsewhere, at six thirty.”

Castillo clears her throat over the phone, “Not now. Our donor wants to have dinner, with you.”

“I’m sorry but I can’t, my part-time doesn’t finish until nine.” Your throat tightens at her not-so-subtle command.

“I’m sorry too, but I’m afraid this donor is bigger than your part-time.” Castillo repeats coldly, “This is a chance you wouldn’t want to pass up.” She hesitates before giving away further, her tone grows softer, “He wants to contribute to your work. Your funding, more specifically. Think about your personal LC-MS, microdialysis probes.”

“But -”

“We’re talking about hundreds of thousands. And possibly much more to come if your research yields results.” Her voice sounds tempting, slow but seductive – not sexually, God forbid, “What I’m about to say is blunt, but please, think about your TA stipend.” Which is a very pathetic eight hundred dollars per month, as you and Professor Castillo are both aware of. “Times that by fifty. Our donor is thinking about investing forty grand. On you. On your PhD.”

Your own grant.

That sounds extremely tempting.

You can’t help but hold your breath. Forty grand. You don’t think you have ever seen that much money in real life. And such a grant isn’t for academic-only. It would certainly help your budget, and your finances.

“It’s a now or never chance,” Professor Castillo calls out your name softly on the other end of the phone, “Talk to our donor, tonight. Reschedule whatever you have in mind. Go have dinner with him. Talk about how much you love biology and pharmaceuticals. Being a PhD isn’t all about research, you know.” Her unspoken words linger in the air. It’s about connection, persuasion, and asking idiots with a suitcase of wads to fund your passion.

“Professor, I-”

“Oh,” She chuckles to the speaker, sounding more pleasant and friendly than she has ever been during the past year, “Yovanna is fine. Six thirty. A place called Jean-Georges, I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late.”

Your fist clenches and unclenches on the podium.

“Oh, and uh-” She pauses for a brief moment, “I was told that Jean-Georges is a high-end restaurant. Wear something nice.” Before quickly hanging up the phone.

You check the clock again, three minutes to six. Great.

With the ping of your phone, Professor Castillo – Yovanna texts you the address for Jean-Georges. Luckily, it’s about a ten-minute walk from your campus to the restaurant. Unluckily, it’s in the opposite direction of your apartment. There is simply no way for you to head home, change into something fancy – which is another problem because your wardrobe lacks anything that could be labeled as “high-end” – and head to that restaurant.

There is only one thing you can do now.

You call Diego.

***

You should be grateful that this donor guy gives you a chance to prove yourself.

You really should.

You tug the hem of your tight black dress in all discomfort, and can’t help but get a teeny tiny bit of annoyance in the back of your head.

As stated, you have two formal outfits for such occasions. One is a nice, cute, white shirt, and a black suit to go with it. Quick flashback, Diego did not find your dress pants. Which you were fairly sure that the pants were hanging just by the shirt. So, it left you with the only other option. Option number two, the tight black dress stuffed at the back of your closet. You once hoped that you would never use it again, but, well, here you are.

You are very grateful for Diego living right next door and being able to find your dinner outfit plus heels on such short notice and deliver it to you. It spared you a few minutes to apply lipstick – you really need to stop scraping its bottom with a toothpick and buy another one instead. You borrowed foundation and concealer from a girl in the lab down the hall. You are also thankful for her helping you with the concealer before you risked smudging the colored ointment over your black dress – the only thing that you could wear at this point. She also did your hair with a small comb that she carried with her make-up pouch at all times, taming it and styling it as much as she could.

She also wanted to help with your eyebrows, ready to pluck some of them off with a pair of tweezers before you gasped in horror and claimed that you had to leave.

Very nice of a girl. You think her name is Jessica.

Yet here you are, in front of the restaurant as the wind grows chilly by the minute.

“Do you have a reservation, Miss?” The waiter in a tux at the door asks with a smile.

“Under the name, Mr. Garcia, I think?” You take out your phone from your stark-white canvas bag. Yeah, you see the waiter subtly checking out your canvas bag. Not your fault that high heels hurt so much and you need to take them off and change them into sneakers the second you say goodbye to Mister Kind Sponsor.

The waiter checks the sheets of reservation in front of him, quickly finding the name “Garcia”, “Of course.” He gestures to another waiter in a tux, a taller and skinnier one, “Dave will lead you to your table. I hope you will enjoy our food.”

You smile back, following the other waiter’s lead.

Strong, blinding light emits from above your head. Thick, grey carpet underneath your soles. The restaurant is decorated in a neat black-and-white style. A woman wearing tight brown skims yoga pants brushes past you, having you somewhat relieved, as this place is not strictly dress-coded.

Gentle clicking of forks, knives, and plates, and glasses. Bare whispers of people talking. Not loud. Not rushed. Au contraire to the student’s cafeteria where you choose to spend your nine dollars and twenty-nine cents every Wednesday as a reward for your hard work.

Somewhere you don’t fit in. The realization hits you like a bus. Not the first time. But the most realistic one as you know the one guy you are about to pamper, the guy who simply has too much to spend on his yacht or villa or first-class tickets or privet jets, doesn’t belong in your ranks. Doesn’t belong in your world. And vice versa.

Just how would you be able to sweet talk him into investing in your research?

Dave leads you to the table without you even realizing it. Maybe it’s that you don’t recognize the man. Or maybe the fuzzy grey sweater and his brown leather jacket don’t really fit in like the rest of the men wearing tux and suits and ties.

Two misfits. You conclude in the depth of your own mind.

He stands from the table when Dave introduces the table set for the two of you.

“Mr. Garcia?” You pronounce your name loud and clear, extending a hand, “It’s very honored to meet you.”

“Pleasure is all mine.” He shakes your hand firmly, telling the waiter to circle back with two menus before turning his attention back to you, “Please, have a seat.”

Grey curls adorn his forehead, capturing your attention first. Then it’s his toned skin, a shade tanner than most who occupy the higher-up positions in your life. A light stubble covers the lower half of his face. Although you are no expert, you realize it’s trimmed with delicacy. When he smiles at you, there are wrinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“Here are the menus.” Dave brings two thick leather-bound books back and hands you each one, “Would you like to order now or … ?”

He leans over before Dave can finish, kindly smiling, “It’s okay if you need a few minutes to go over the menu.”

You open the leather-bound book – it contains two pages. One page of the cuisines under the name “Autumn”, as a fixed set for each and every guest, and another page filled with beverages and wines and cocktails.

There’s literally nothing you need to go over with. Besides the drink.

“I’ll just have the Autumn set.”

“Same.” The charming man on the opposite side of the table pipes up after you.

“And the drinks?” Dave continues in his uneventful tone.

“A little bit of alcohol, if that’s alright with you?” He checks with you, “It’s okay if you want something alcohol-free.”

Who are you to say no when your donor wants to have a drink with you?

You chew on your lower lip as a slight hesitation takes over, before realizing his intense gaze on you. “I’d love to have a bit of alcohol, but I don’t know much about wine. You can do the honors and help me order one, perhaps?”

A toothy grin reveals his sharper canines. He seems taken aback by your blunt confession over the subject of alcohol, yet he shows no signs of annoyance or impatience.

He turns to ask the waiter Dave, “What can you recommend for Champagne?”

“Bollinger for the more traditional flavor and richness. Or Moet for light and fruitful. We now have a bottle of Bollinger Special Cuvée, the flagship champagne of Bollinger which I highly recommend.”

Mr. Garcia nods. “Then we’ll have the flagship one. Thanks.”

Dave collects your menus and exits quickly.

Santiago Garcia folds his arms over the table, like a pupil eager to learn, cocking his head slightly, he asks, “I think I’ve heard a lot about you from your professors, but I’d like to hear it from you. What is your current research subject?”

This is a question that you get asked countless times. Even so, you can’t help but sweat a little. “I uh- ahem, I study pharmacology. My PhD research is Development of a Novel Therapeutic Drug Mimicking Endogenous Pain Modulators for Enhanced Pain Management in Addiction Rehabilitation. Basically, I’m aiming to develop a drug that would help individuals in rehab.”

“How so?” Santiago Garcia rests his chin on the back of his hand, “Forgive me for asking, I honestly don’t know a thing about pharmacology, how would this … therapeutic drug work?”

“Well,” a moment and you seem to have returned to the podium, lecturing the students on your ongoing research, “Most people do drugs again because of the pain-reducing component in the drugs. Think of it this way: your body contains muscles, bones, and ligaments. When your body is constantly in motion, like I need to pick up my fork.” You gesture by lifting your tableware, “Your bones and muscles create friction. But you won’t feel anything, as our body produces, well, mostly endorphins to counter the feeling of minor pain from within.”

Dave pours you both a glass of sparkly wine, but Mr. Garcia doesn’t reach for the glass, and neither do you. Though you both say “Thank you” to the waiter, interrupting the conversation briefly.

“As I was saying, when you start to do drugs, minor ones like marihuana or dangerous ones like Oxy, your body captures the signal that you have sufficient chemicals to reduce the small pains, and that it doesn’t have to produce endorphins for you anymore.”

“We have very stupid bodies.” Massaging his lower lip with his thumb, Santiago Garcia murmurs.

You shrug nonchalantly, “That’s one way of putting it. Anyway, when you stop doing drugs, your body has already shut its endorphin factory down, and that’s when you start to feel itches, pains, and discomfort all over your body. It is unbearable. To a lot of drug users, it’s not that they don’t want to quit, it’s because they can’t. Doing drugs again is the only way they don’t feel the pain anymore.”

Santiago nods, chiming in, “I think I’m getting the hang of it now. What you are doing, if I summarize it correctly, is mimic a drug similar to endorphin?”

“While also boosting our endorphin factory back to life – but yes, you get the gist. It should be a non-addictive version of painkillers that would allow doctors to gradually decrease the meds subscribed to these addicted patients until they could return to their full health. At least for their endorphin factory.”

Dave comes back with your entrées.

“That sounds …” He wrecks his brain for the right word, “quite impressive.”

Your cheeks warm up per his amazement. He sounds genuine. Unlike how your professors comment on every research as “very good” “interesting”, while in fact they just mean “This is a lot of bullshit and you need to do better” before marking each work with a B minus.

He proposes a toast by raising his glass, and you take up on that offer. The sound of glasses clicking has to be one of the most musical voices you have heard throughout the year.

As you progress from entrée to the main course, your inner curiosity is killing you, leading you to drop your question, “I am very thankful for the … dinner and your enthusiasm over biology, but can I ask you something?”

“Hm?”

“Why me?” You nervously add, “I’m not saying that I’m not a good choice. But why?”

He quirks his eyebrows, huffing a small laugh. “The short version is, I like your research.”

“And the long version …?”

Santiago Garcia washes down the food with a gulp of that golden sparkly wine. Leaning back in his seat, he responds, “Truth is, I worked for the Delta squad for over eight years, and I’ve been fighting drug lords ever since. That’s the eight-year-long version of it. If it helps with your question, I have also invested in a psychological research, a chemical one, and another one of social sciences, all related to drug abuse.” And I also have like forty million dollars I stole from the drug lord Lorea that I don’t know how to spend. So, it’s a hilarious way to spend some of that drug money, investing in research that would corrupt other drug lords’ business. He thinks to himself.

That is, in fact, very admirable. Both working for Delta Squad and now investing in such research that is beneficial to society.

“I am very much impressed, Mister Garcia.” A small smile perches up the corner of your lips.

He lets out a throaty laugh, “I think we’re beyond that. Santiago – I go by Santiago.”

“Right, Santiago.” You will never forget that name anytime soon, considering the amount he is about to invest in you.

His lips briefly graze the surface of the champagne in his glass. This man, Santiago Garcia watches you while he takes a sip of his wine.

He clears his throat, putting down his wine glass, “I think we have a deal then,” he calls you by your first name, “fifty thousand for a year. Then two or more years, depending on your research outcome.”

Fifty thousand for a year.

Your breath hitches in your throat. That amount is probably more than the wage your parents could earn in five years.

Your tuition. Your personal lab equipment. Your soup cans and tuna cans with red 50% Off stickers at the back of your cabinet.

“Is this the wine talk?” You joke, to mask the tension at the back of your spine.

“No,” Santiago says in his gravel but surprisingly warm voice, his beautiful eyes with the color that reminds you of melting hazelnut chocolate lingering on your face. The look, the gaze, it was nothing repulsive. Nothing offensive. Nothing intrusive. “I’m very much sober.”

[dollbon]

Day out˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

You woke up to a loud noise inside the Chateau, getting up from your bed while leaving your plush on top of it and going to the main room to see what was going on.When you got there you saw Kiara packing some supplies while JJ looked for his cap and Pope got some snacks. In the middle of all that mess you didn't understand anything, then you felt a hand on your shoulder as he turned you around.

"Did you sleep well?"

John B asked as you nodded still a little dazed from your sleep and confused by the situation. John B smiled at you before looking at the mess behind you, he laughed and rolled his eyes before speaking to you again.

"We're going out to a nice place today, go get ready."

You looked at him curiously and even more confused, the mess behind you only got bigger while JJ searched everywhere to find his cap.

"Where are we going?"

You asked tilting your head slightly. John B laughed at the action and then replied,

"Surprise honey, now go get ready, Kie will help you." You nodded again before heading to your room with Kiara behind you.

"Okay pretty girl, let's get you ready because if I let one of them do it you'll look tackier than JJ."

You both laughed before hearing a protest from JJ.

"Hey! My style isn't tacky, it's unique and classic!"

JJ said defensively before going back to looking for his hat. After Kie helped you get ready, the two of you went downstairs and met up with the others in the Chateau room. Soon after making sure everything was ready, you got into the twinkie and hit the road.

"Why can't I drive?"

JJ asked as she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Because you're crazy."

You replied as Kie and Pope started laughing, John B struggling to hold back his laughter.

"You little thing-" JJ mumbled before getting up from his seat and walking over to yours, tickling you. You squealed and squirmed as JJ continued.

"Are you going to say that again?!"

He paused for a moment for you to respond and then you smiled like a brat and nodded. JJ rolled his eyes and then put you upside down on his shoulder, shaking you as you laughed and screamed.

"Are you going to keep insulting me little thing?" he asked and you laughed again.

"No!"

"Promise?"

"Maybe" JJ shook you again and then stopped. "Is that still a maybe?"

"No! I promise not to insult you again!" JJ smiled victoriously before putting you back in your seat and fastening your belt.

"We can go now, man, I've already dealt with the troublemaker."

JJ said to John B, giving you a wink before returning to his seat and putting on his seatbelt as well. John B just laughed and rolled his eyes before turning the key in the twinkie and starting to drive.

The drive to the place was incredibly peaceful, with you, Kie and Pope drawing on your arms and legs with some of your coloring markers, and JJ and John B talking in front of the twinkie, "No good" by Kaleo was playing softly on the radio.

"Daddy, are we there yet?"

You asked, not taking your eyes off the drawing you were making on your wrist.

"Almost, honey, just wait a little longer."

John B said, glancing at you in the rearview mirror before turning his focus back to the road.

As soon as you arrived at the destination that John B had mentioned, Pope helped you get off the twinkie while John B and JJ grabbed your bags and Kie closed the twinkie doors. You walked out of the parking lot to the entrance of the large water park. John B swears he saw stars in your eyes as soon as you stepped inside the park, making him smile as he guided you inside holding your hand.

"Did you like it, honey?"

"Yeah." You said almost without words, making John B laugh again.

You and Kie went to change in the girls' bathroom while the others got their keys and went to put their bags away. As soon as you left, the boys were already waiting for you outside.

"Where are we going first?" Pope asked before turning to you.

"How about the river, it goes around the whole park, we can go on the water slides later." Kie said as she tied her hair in a bun and fixed her bangs.

"Okay, but I want to go on that big one later." JJ said, pointing to the main attraction of the park.

"And everyone else is going!"

He said, making everyone roll their eyes and laugh at his demands.

You were already more than eager to get into the pool, you could feel the excitement running through your veins, or maybe it was just the cereal you had for breakfast, the sugar was making you very agitated... very much so.

You walked to the river-shaped pool and JJ was the first to jump into the water, making it splash on the group.

"Aaagh! JJ!"

Kiara groaned before getting in with Pope and John B.You waited for John B to get in before stretching your arms out to him, asking for help to get in too.

He smiled at you before lifting you by the hips and placing you in the water next to him, laughing when you shivered feeling the cold water.

"Cold?"

"No! I can handle it!" You protested as you shivered, John B just laughed again before pulling you closer to him.

After taking a few laps around the pool, you decided to go out and ride some of the park's rides. You and Kie went on some of the lighter rides, since you didn't like the taller ones very much and you were small.After a few hours on the ride, you all got hungry, but that wasn't a problem, especially since Pope brought lots and lots of snacks.

You sat down on a chair while John B wrapped you in your Hello Kitty towel and dried your hair.

"Are you okay? Are you tired yet?"

"No! But I'm hungry." You said quickly as you hugged John B's torso and he ran his hand through your wet hair.

"Yeah, I know honey, Pope and JJ will be back with the snacks." He looked at his arm full of drawings.

"That was Kie, wasn't it?"He said pointing to the sun drawn on his shoulder.

"Yeah, she draws well." You said as you smiled happily at John B, who gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before turning your attention to Pope and JJ who were coming back with the snacks.

"I want Doritos!" You said excitedly taking the snack.

"Hey! I want your little gremilim too!"

JJ said just to piss you off.

"No! It's mine! I'll have Kie beat you up!"

You threatened as you held the snack against your small body.

"You selfish little thing! Come here!" JJ started walking towards you and you quickly stood up and ran towards Kie. Kie laughed before grabbing her flip flop and pointing it at JJ.

"Leave her alone JJ, or you'll have the flip flop mark on your back." Kie playfully threatened, making JJ back away.

"You win this time, little gremilim." JJ said before walking over to the table and grabbing another snack to eat. You stuck your tongue out at JJ before walking over to John B and sitting on his lap.

"Is JJ being annoying again?" He asked as he smiled, already knowing the answer. "Yes, he is annoying."

"But you love him right?"

"....Yes."

John B smiled even wider at your answer.

"I love you too, selfish little thing." JJ said walking behind you and placing a kiss on the top of your head and nuzzling your side lightly, making you giggle and squirm.

After you ate some snacks, you felt satisfied, but you still had to wait a little while to get back in the water. To distract you, they sat around you and started drawing on you and letting you draw on them too. After a while, you decided to go back to the pool again, your body was now covered in drawings and signatures of JJ, Pope, Kiara and John B.

"Okay, now we're going to the big one!" JJ said, pointing to the main attraction.

"Okay JJ, are you sure you want to go on that one too, princess?" Kiara asked you, you looked at the ride a little suspiciously, but nodded.

"Okay! Then let's go!!!" JJ said excitedly before walking with the group to the main attraction of the park. Well, who would have thought that you would like the ride so much, so much so that you and JJ went on it five more times before finally getting tired.

"Hey you two, come on, the park is closing soon, let's get changed." John B said as he helped Pope and Kiara put their things away. You and JJ grumbled before walking over to the rest of the group, JJ grabbing your towel and wrapping you in it.

"Go change with Kie, princess."

He said before grabbing his towel and wrapping himself in it too, feeling the atmosphere cool down a bit.Kie and you went back to the girls' locker room to change, while the boys did the same.

"Did you enjoy your day, honey?" Kiara asked as she put John B's sweatshirt on you and grabbed her brush to fix your hair.

"Yeah, it was nice, I want to come here again!" You asked a little tired but still excited.Kiara laughed and finished packing.

"Okay, now let's go before the boys start complaining."

Kiara said, grabbing their bags and holding your hand as they walked out of the girls' locker room.

"Finally!"JJ said as she waited outside.

"Shut up JJ!"

Kiara said and then you repeated.

"Shut up!"

Kiara laughed and scolded you lightly. "No honey, you can't say that. Where are John B and Pope?" Kiara asked JJ.

"They went to take their stuff to the twinkie. Let's go."

Before JJ could take a step, you grabbed his shirt and groaned.

"What's up little thing?"

"Lap!"

"Seriously?"

"Lap!"

"Agh, okay!"

JJ picked you up and groaned, but it was just to tease you.By the time they got to the twinkie, you were almost asleep. JJ carefully placed you on the bench and buckled you in.

"Did she sleep?"

Kiara, Pope and John B asked at the same time.

"Yeah."

JJ said before sitting in the front seat.

"Can I drive now?"

"No!"

They all said at the same time.

"Oh come on! Do you guys have some kind of prejudice against me?"

"No JJ, you're just crazy, just like the little princess here said."

Pope said before pointing to your sleeping form. JJ just sighed and rolled his eyes before turning to look at you, a small smile forming on his sides.

After everyone was in their seats and their seatbelts were on, John B turned on the Twinkie and they hit the road back home.

For: @marvelfanfics1 and @chimindity.

(I know I probably You have more important things to do, but I wanted you to read the story. I hope you like it, both of their stories are amazing!🫶🏻)

[redhead1180]

Self explanatory

[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The New Pope (TV Mini Series) S1/E9 'Episode #1.9' (2020) - Bruce McGuire

Saw a pic of this guy. Then I immediately looked for something he was in. And now I want more.

What? Look at him.

On A Side Note: This maybe the cassock talking, but I need more of Silvio Orlando.

[apollo-sol-pawpaw]

I think I’ve finally understood why I like Sparrow in season 2 even more than I did in season 1. I think it’s because his struggles are so inherently feminine. Traditionally speaking, women tend to fuss over their children more than men. They are more involved with their kids and can be brutal to them with honesty, even if unintentional. Silently suffering in a crumbling marriage. Keeping quiet when your spouse cheats just to keep the peace. Mediating a family, or at least trying to. Taking all the blame for someone else. It’s all roles that women tend to take, and it’s not so common for men to be depicted like that in media.

[phantom-of-the-memes]

Do you think if I claimed my tits were possessed by demons I could get the first ever Catholic Church approved top surgery?

[sugarcandydoll]

also the way rafey keeps gettin in jombee n the gang's way is rlly making me wanna slap him hard across the face ♡🙄💞

[jjmaybankssurfergf]

Got my OC😁

Her name is Bailee Freeman, her birthday is on August, 10 and she was born in Key west, Florida. Her mother died when she was 2 and that left her father to look after and raise her. She moved to the Outer Banks when she was 12, there she met JJ Maybank and John b through school. Later on as she got older the Pouges friend group had formed and everything was perfect. Until her dad found another Woman, Melissa. Bailee didn’t like her at all, she was also a kook, and had two snobby daughters. Kendra and Miley, they were both brats and treated Bailee like shit a lot of the time but put a fact act for their parents. Bailee, started having feelings for JJ when she hit age 14, after that she had googlie eyes for him all the time. She told Kie about it and they talked and gossiped about her crushing on JJ. She thought it was all perfect until Kendra started flirting and talking to jj more and that eventually led them to getting in a relationship. It left Bailee heartbroken, one her best friend and biggest crush wasn’t hers and two her hated stepsister stole him from her.

I hope you guys love the little summary I came up with!!! I’ll be updating when I’ll start writing the series! PLEASE DO NOT COPYRIGHT MY CHARACTER OR WORK PLEASE!!!!

Tags: @chimindity @kraekat29 @johnbwas-here @surferboyjj

@madeupinmyhead @th3eternalersi @rafeyscurtainbangs

@rafeslittleangel @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa

@redhead1180 @pankowkisses

@alliisinwonderland05 @moremaybank @starfxkrinc

@pope4life @jjsgirly @hotestdudeintheobx

[aphrditee]

Angelus is so great, like he was forced to make out with Buffy and it was so emotionally life changing he decided he wanted to off himself and take the world with him.

Like we know he enjoys carnal pleasures, he has kissed and fucked (Darla, Dru, Spike) but having to live with the memory of loving/kissing Buffy while taking a backseat to a Ghost makes him suicidal 😭😭😭 talk about not being able to deal. He’s such a drama queen omg. I’m 100% convinced he was going to change Buffy, like make her his Dru 2.0 but he chickened out because he knew unlike Dru and Darla he would have been vampire!Buffy’s BITCH.

[m00nl1ghtsstuff]

So...who?

I mean. First of all. mihawk is a Tumblr sexyman and so is SMG3 and Mr puzzle and Pauline is hot and maybe Dabi is acceptable and so is Mr plant...and Maybeee miss circle...

But WHO in God's green earth considered daddy pig. Spongebob. Daffy duck from goddamn looney tunes. Spook. Miss piggy. Ming lee. Mr piggy. Paper. Papi. Papyrus. Ray man. The guy from George the curious money. Mr. Krupp. The dancing banana meme. Dr zombass from PVZ. Mr small from TAWOG. A Tumblr sexyman????. Be honest with me for a second... (BTW this is my opinion)

[jamneuromain]

Addictive

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x PhD Candidate!Reader (You)

Warning: Sugar Daddy!Santiago Garcia, Implied age gap (Santiago is in his late 30s, reader in her mid-20s), Mention of a near-death experience ... fluff, eventual smut but we'll see about that (and more tags to come)

Summary: The start of an unconventional sugar relationship.

A/N: I solemnly blame @innorogers for indulging me with sugar daddy!Santiago Gargia thoughts. Thank you 太太 you're the best. Mwah😘

Prologue

"What are you going to do with your share?"

>

"So, what are you going to do with your share?"

It is a question that has come up way too many times in their time spent together. They discussed the possibility of being rich in that shabby pub during the humid and sticky night before the heist. They talked about it again, after the heist, when they nearly lost Redfly on the mountain ridge, nerves on edge with two hundred million on their backs. They ended up splitting the stolen money five ways. Each gets a share, which is forty million US dollars: Tom "Redfly" Davis, William "Ironhead" Miller, Ben Miller, Francisco "Catfish" Morales, and of course, last but not least, himself, Santiago "Pope" Garcia.

Ben got the Ferrari he always wanted. Tom deposited a quarter of his money into the college fund for his girls. William was finally rid of the horrific job of giving the same speech to uniformed men and women, now investing in a gun range. Francisco spends a couple of hours a day in some aviation club, working as a coach. He owns the entire hanger and all the iron birds inside.

Santiago ... Santiago hasn't done anything with his money apart from getting a flat and buying a new car.

So, the question now is specifically targeting him. Now that the five men are watching football from the latest model of a flat-screen TV in Tom's living room.

"What are you going to do with your share, huh Santi?" Frankie repeats with a shit-eating grin.

"Dunno." Santiago takes a sip of his beer, avoiding the scrutinizing gaze of his four closest friends, smoothing his gray strands with his other hand, "I'll figure something out. But enough of me, I heard your Tess wanted to be a doctor?"

There's only one of them who has a family: Tom.

Tom was two inches away from getting shot in the forehead up on the Andes.

Tom chuckles, "That's my bright girl, alright. Takes up after her mom, thank the Lord. Still, the tuition for Pre-med is a bitch. Speaking of, could you pick her up from her AP tutoring at five thirty? It's in a studio near the real estate agency I used to work for. I had other plans for Molly at six."

Ben whistles after one too many beers, "Getting your wife back, nice."

William punches his younger brother Ben in the shoulder.

Tom shakes his head with a small smile, "Can't keep my hopes up though. But Tess - you can pick her up for me, right?" He turns to Santiago for confirmation.

"Sure, bud." Santiago clicks his beer bottle with his former team captain.

Approximately two hours later, you catches his eye when Santiago drives to the tutoring studio to pick up Tess. A pencil in your ear, a load of books in your arms. Your cuffs faded into a lighter shade than the outfit, one of your sleeves resewn, tighter and shorter compared to the other one, the side of your hand smudged in pencil dust, waving Tess goodbye.

"Hey, Uncle Santiago!" Tess pipes up, sliding into the front seat of his sleek black sedan.

"Hey, Tess. Who's that?" Santiago lifts his chin at the girl - you - at the bus stop.

"Oh! That's my tutor for AP Chemistry. She works for this tutoring studio but she's actually a brilliant grad student in the Med School. It's her second year in the PhD program. She works on this really cool project called ..."

As the young teen's voice fades into the background, Santiago pulls his car out from the parking lot. The question that has been haunting him ever since the planning of the heist pops into his mind.

Yeah. He thinks to himself. I'll figure something out.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | ...

[maybanksbabe]

https://www.tumblr.com/maybanksbabe/747947242445570048/baby-daddyjj-who-is-a-little-unsure-of-what-to-do

Baby daddy!JJ enlisting Pope to help him put the crib together

JJ doesn’t understand why it so hard meanwhile Pope keeps insisting that he’s doing it wrong and “the instructions say to…”

JJ refuses to listen to him

Pope wonders why he asked him for help in the first place

🧡.

no cause honestly Pope would've had it all assembled and put together in an hour or two but with JJ complaining about how complicated it is, they're in there all afternoon lmaoooo

Sitting and watching the two of them from a thrifted rocking chair, just starting to look Actually Pregnant, laughing about how ridiculous JJ is being and knowing that you picked the right guy