#I remember when my parents would tell me 'that's not a thing'

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"

[saikenakoego]

Said I was gonna do this later so here I am!!

I know nobody asked me but I'm gonna do it anyway. Because who's gonna stop me? Someone asking?

Hah!!

Im gonna do this with ALL my OC's. Because I can, and because I love all my little creations!

Starting with my currently favorite vampire gal!

Samantha Morales, a.k.a. Sammy Moors

vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv This gal vvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

With direct answers from the girl herself, for extra cringe roleplay. My favorite.

1. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? If you have multiple, who's your favorite?

SM: I do sometimes. To try and remember what it felt to be human.

...

My favorite is my little green bunny. His name is Jacques.

2. Can you take care of a plant? What about a pet? Or a child?

SM: I can. But how well I'd do, can't tell. Being undead messes with your head a lot...

3. Can you describe your love interest?

SM: I could if I had one. Or if I could feel love. Or anything at all.

4. Do you look good in red?

SM: ...

SM: I prefer pink.

5. Speech, speech, speech! Will you give one? And what about?

SM: No. That kind of self-centered talk is for bloodsucker scum. You wouldn't catch me dead doing something as pretentious as that. They think they're so high and mighty, that they're superior to everything else. That they can take what they want and we'd never do anything about it. But they're nothing but insects, hiding away like cowards in the shadows while feeding off others like leeches. Disgusting and pathetic, weak little creatures unable to keep living by themselves. Parasites. Just the sight of them makes me want to rip them apart limb by limb, making them scream in agony as the life they've stolen leaves their body drop by drop, scurrying away and pleading for mercy as I crush their every bone to--

6. Who will you take advice from? And who WOULDN'T you take it from?

SM: I don't think anyone can really give me any advice that matters, but if I had to choose... Maybe Johnny. Kid's got a good head on his shoulders when it comes to the supernatural. Not like I need it though.

SM: But I'd never take advice from Silver. Too impulsive, and I already have me to worry about.

7. Describe yourself in three words

SM: Monster. Disgusting. Unsightly.

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate you?

SM: I hate puzzles. Wastes of time.

9. Do you empathize with non-sentient things?

SM: More than empathize, I envy them. I'm already unable to feel anything, at least they get to not think about it either.

10. What age do you want to be the most right now?

SM: I wanna be 13 again. Go back to when everything was okay...

11. You won the lottery. Spend, or save?

SM: I dunno. Maybe spend? We do need more silver rounds...

12. Do you like romance in the books you read?

SM: I... I think I used to like it? I can't recall...

13. Name one thing your parents taught you.

SM: Family is everything.

14. Would you agree with the term 'guilty pleasure? Do you have any?

SM: I won't give in to it. I won't, no matter how good it smells. How delicious its crimson gleam looks. How it makes my mouth water at the mere thought of it, I won't. I won't. I won't I--

15. What would you consider a waste of time, other than school and work?

SM: Anything that's too complicated. I have all the time in the world, but every second I waste is another second they live.

16. If money wasn't a limit, what would you wear?

SM: I'n fine with my outfit. I think Silver would be someone better to ask this to.

17. Do you like children?

SM: No. They wound too frequently.

18. Kissing: Tongue or no tongue?

SM: No kissing. That's disgusting.

19. Do you study before tests?

SM: I haven't done any tests in 2 years.

20. What do you like that nobody else does?

SM: Rare meat in burgers isn't too bad... Don't tell Johnny I said that.

21. What would it take for you to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

SM: Being a bloodsucker. Even if I can't feel anything, that's an immediate deal breaker.

22. Do you like being called pet names? Do you call others pet names? What's your go-to?

SM: I don't, but people have been calling me Sammy or Moors for so long that it feels weird when they don't do it. Old habits die hard, I guess. The only person I have a nickname for is Silver, and that's because he insists on being called Silver.

23. Stability or novelty?

SM: I've had my fill of novelty for a lifetime...

24. Honesty or charity?

SM: Honesty.

25. Safety or possibility?

SM: Safety.

26. Talent or effort?

SM: Effort.

27. Forgiveness or vengeance?

SM: VENGEANCE.

28. Would you date a fixer-upper?

SM: I'd rather not dare anyone right now.

29. What recurring dreams do you have?

SM: The blood, it's everywhere... I'd rather not talk about it.

30. What would you do if you knew it would be forgiven?

SM: I... I'm not gonna answer that.

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

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[sebssunshine]

in 2016 i was 11 i was in 4th grade and so excited about the election. my parents let me stay up to watch part of it and i went to bed fully thinking i would wake up the next day to the first female president of the US. instead i woke up to my mom sobbing and telling me who won. i went to school that next day and was so so angry, i was an 11 year old lesbian who’s country had just elected a man who believed i shouldn’t have rights.

i’m 19 now a freshman in college and experiencing the same thing again. i’m angry but im also tired. i have spent the last 8 years of my life going to protests and listening to the news and reading about political history and caring so much about my family my friends and people who i’ve never met before all before i could even vote.

i remember how freeing it felt when biden won in 2020 i remember going to the parade in Philadelphia the day pennsylvania was declared for biden. it was a moment to take a breath after years of being put down and by god i was hoping for one again. all i wanted was a second to breath, to be hopeful that my country that against my better judgment i love could reject a man with 34 felony charges and 2 impeachments.

take today to cry, scream, throw things whatever you need and then get back to work. we may not have won but the fight isn’t over.

[docdudo]

Hi!! I want to start by saying I absolutely love your writing! It’s great writing and is pretty good for me to understand (English isn’t my first language).

I just wanted to ask, How do you think poly hybrid 141 would react to adopted reader getting sick?? And I mean really sick, like a good case of the flu that takes a whole week, like 7 days and antibiotics to go away??

I could see them being so worried and stressed, taking her to doctors and everything because they get better in 24-48 hours with their fancy strong immune systems! I also wonder if adopted reader would be confused by going to the doctors, because if anything happend while in previous foster homes, she was told to just figure it out and get better on her own.

You are right about one thing: hybrids have a better immune system than humans do!

Humans are considered weak and frail in every sense of the word. That includes their health. In fact, a human's health is so discussed that specialists from other races all study the human body constantly so they would be able to treat one, would they ever needed it.

(Because of the lack of total humans on this universe, it's rare to find a human doctor, for example. So, other races have to cover for them in a lot of different fields. There are programs and organizations in this world that entierelly foucused on making sure the few humans that exist would get the care they need. So, for example, if you are a doctor and also specialize on taking care of humans beside some other race, you would probably be paid more by the governement).

Now, little reader getting sick? Like, really sick? Yeah, that house is turning upside down. As hybrids, the whole 141 pride themselves on being good caretakers and providers. They also know how much more frail humans are compared to them.

But know is different from experiencing.

Little reader would start off with the typical signs of the flu. Stuffy nose, throat a bit sore, a sluggish body. All that. But, as we all know, it's very quick for sickness to develop. And in the spam of a night, little reader is waking up with a high fever and a weak, useless body.

The 141 would notice almost immediatly. They can smell how sick you are, even from your room. That weird, almost sour smell that we can usually smell when we blow our nose.

Before you know it, you would probably be in Price's or Soap's arms, surronded by their warmth, hearing their cooed words that make zero to almost no sense to your sick and hazy mind.

And at first, they are very much panicking. They are calling the rest of their pack while cooing and conforting you, Laswell being the one to tell them to immediatly take you to the doctor.

And they do, everyone going on the car together, because if one of them had anything to do that day, it's immediatly getting canceled. They would still hold you close, on their laps, and every single one of them are cooing quietly at you. Even Ghost. Tho his "cooing" sounds more like his normal voice, just extra quiet and gentler than usual.

And it's true, you're not that used to going to the doctor. You usually never get that sick, and as a foster kid, it just doesn't happen often.

But, you were feeling pretty hazy, mind clouded and feverish. You barely remember going that first time to the doctor with them.

You barely remember the kind doctor that was trying his best to easy your foster parents' worries, and all the examination he did on you, even if you couldnt cooperate much with how confused you were.

You certainly got treated at the hospital and monitored until your fever came down a bit. After that, they send you back home with your parents, who had gotten a lot of new instructions and medicines to properly take care of you at home.

You took almost a full week to finally start getting better.

They would't let you sleep in your room anymore, since you got sick, you had been sleeping on their shared nest, with them. They would constantly check on your breathing and heartbeats, and would even feed you themselves and make sure you were plenty hydrated.

And even after you got better, they would still be extra careful and overbearing for a little while longer.

You can be sure that they would be taking extra measures now so that you never get sick again.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I've sent a similar ask before, but in peachsoup I want to see everyone's reaction to Sun Wukong being named Peaches.

Nehza: *face palms.* No memories and he is still subconsciously pining.

Erlang: *on the floor laughing* It takes a special kind of simping to do it with no memory.

Macaque: *crisis because even with no memory, Wukong chose his nickname for him as a name, but also he's supposed to be angry about dying but peaches-*

Prev.

Dont worry about resending. My inbox is stuffed to the gills and I get lost in it. Also indenting doesnt seem to work right when im on mobile.

I ended up making a bit of character dialogue based on this ask between Peaches and his school-friend "Nez"

Nez: "So how did you get the name Peaches?" Peaches: "Oh! When Dadsy- uh dad found me and MK, he called me it because peaches were pretty much the only thing I ate." Nez, agreeing hum: "Make sense." Peaches: "Then when we were adopted, we needed new legal names - so Zhu Taozi it was!" Nez: "So... you never considered having another name? I mean, the legal folk definitely gave you time to think about it. Why did Peaches resonate with you?" Peaches, twirling hair in thought: "This is gonna sound weird... but I felt like it's always been my name." Nez: "Really?" Peaches: "I know! It sounds so weird! But when I heard it for the first time, it just sounded so natural. Like someone I care about a long time ago called me it? Nez, intrigued: "Oh... so you think it was a nickname from a sibling or a parent or...?" Peaches, confidently: "I think it was someone I was in love with." Nez, memory thread unlocked?: "OH. Oh um... how can you tell?" Peaches, blush creeping: "I don't know! When I sit and meditate on stuff like this, I can just imagine someone just so beautiful with this deep voice chuckling my name like it was meant for me." (*hugs his own body lovingly*) Nez, honesty touched: "Aww..." Peaches, little embarrassed: "I'm sorry. Thats sappy." Nez: "Nah, it's really cute. Who knows? Maybe it's a sign from Yue Lao about who your soulmate it. He sometimes uses dreams to push fated lovers towards one another." Peaches, tail swishing with excitement: "Oh my gods, you're right! It could be a premonition! I wonder if my fated one is as beautiful as I see them! Nezha, internally: "He can't remember over 2000 years of life, but he can remember what his mate used to call him. It would be funny if it wasn't so bittersweet."

Once Macaque gets back, it's hard to see where his face mask begins and end. Learning that even with his memories gone Wukong chose to be called "Peaches", sends the shadow monkey into a conflicted mess. He's mad about getting KO'd obvs, but "Peaches" is both a tragic example of what if Wukong had died (Peaches is almost his own monkey after all), and a revelation that Wukong never truly forgot his mate.

Erlang is laughing his ass off as all of this goes down. His third eye was just spitting patch updates to him one day and BAM; Wukong's mate is back, and just learned that his amnesiac mate remembered and valued his pet name enough to make it his new name. It's way too funny to keep quiet about. He tells all his sworn bros about it.

When Peaches' family realises that "Peaches" was the pet name his big bro's crush called him back when they were a couple... they think its really cute. But the bad boy still isn't coming over for dinner.

[chaussurre]

It also needs "well meaning men that don't underestimate the issue but are way too overwhelmed/anxious to intervene or sometimes even don't know how to intervene."

I'll always remember that time where my mother, grand mother and I were talking with random woman in the streets when suddenly her (I assume) husband came and started to berate her aggressively for slowing him down. And I just froze ? Like I didn't do anything. All the time talking about these kind of things and hearing about it just didn't prepare me shit like I thought it did.

Thankfully my mother immediately reacted and confronted the guy by telling him he wasn't allowed to talk like that. At some point he turned to me and tried arguing that we had to leave him alone. It's at that point that I actually managed to respond and it just stopped him immediately. He even started acting "friendly".

My mom told me that it was because he got scared of me but that's just some shit moms says to their "little baby boys". I was an overweight 25 dude with a nerd shirt. I don't scare no one. He just respected me because I had a penis and nothing else. And that's the second thing that shocked me. How influential I was on him because he saw me as a man.

I still feel like shit for freezing, and I don't want to consider the possibility that I would not have said anything at all if my mother wasn't there. I don't like what ot reveals about me. But it's a truth and clearly I need to work on myself in that regard.

So to all men out there, don't believe that you're gonna be a hero until you are actually confronted to the problem. But keep in mind that even a simple "stop" can be a game changer. Abusive men tend to only consider things when said by another man. So please be better than me and just say it.

And if anyone (like me) is worried about the woman, it happened in the village where my parents moved to. So we talked about it with some friendly neighbors and they said they'd ask the rest of the community on what to do. But the problem was known for some time now.

[eternal-love]

Star

gif isn’t mine, it’s: @beautifulbutler

Pairing: Peyton Leverett x female!reader/you

+18 (smut, blowjob, going down in a girl, y’know the drill)

Summary: You decide to help Peyton out on his new project, you’ll be his subject, or as he calls you, his star. Things take a turn when you give him a more exciting thing to film.

You met Peyton once in Central Park, you had tripped over and all the contents of your bag had basically fallen out your bag. He helped you and since he was hot, you started talking to him. Hanging out with him.

He told you all about his short and long films, about how his teacher loved them. And how his hobby was still heavily involved with the career he studied in NYU. He told you that he was looking for another person to film and he said you were interesting.

You didn’t know if to feel flattered or insulted, did he see something interesting in a weird or a cool way? Whatever it was, it meant that Peyton had his eyes set on you, and you liked it. So you agreed.

You were just going to help a friend out, right?

So you made sure to look your best as you got ready, fixing your hair a thousand times in front of the mirror, applying different lipsticks, changing a thousand times. Suddenly you had forgotten what colors he liked.

Maybe helping a friend out didn’t mean shaving, or using your best perfume.

But even the taxi driver complimented your perfume, the smell that impregnated his small taxi. Happy that the old man, who spent the whole ride saying that you remembered him of his daughter.

You finally made it to Peyton’s apartment studio, taking deep breaths, you knocked and he opened the door.

“Hi, sorry but the traffic was horrible.” You apologized for being exactly ten minutes late.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I have all day.” Peyton let you in, smiling. His studio apartment was neat, not the most clean you’ve seen but you’ve seen worse. He had his camera in his desk, you sat down on in front of the window where he had a small chair.

“Nothing is rehearsed or script. I’ll just ask you some questions and you answer them.”

“I don’t think the camera likes me so much.” You chuckled, putting strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll make it work. Remember, you are my star today.” He pointed at you with a smile.

You smiled, feeling flattered. His star. Just his. He started recording you, making zooms of your face as you fixed yourself once again.

He asked rather normal questions, your age, your name, your hometown. You could ramble about your hometown and family for hours.

“Why did you come to New York?” Peyton asked, zooming into your face.

“Well, I want what everyone wants when they come to NYC. Success. I believed that it would be very different from my hometown. It is, but everyone here is different too. You don’t just stand out in a crowd, and because everyone here is so different, you get lost in between all the faces.”

You said, coming to New York with big aspirations only for them to be shattered as you find out that everyone here came with the same dream.

“A dreamer. I like it.” Peyton chuckled. “And your parents? Did they support you?”

“My dad did, he drove me all the way from my hometown to Madison Square Garden. My mother, I think it was hard for her. She definitely didn’t know what I would be up to. She probably thought I would end up as an exotic dancer…” you laughed, covering your mouth.

“Don’t. It’s pretty and it makes it more raw.” Peyton said, smiling at you. “My teacher likes it when the films focus on the real subject.”

You nod, licking your lips and continuing to speak. “Yes. I know she misses me, that she can’t stop thinking of me. I guess she worries, when you tell your mother that you dance at a club, they think the worse. And I get it. But I like it. I like dancing in the club, I’m not a stripper or a hooker. I just like being on stage. It’s not Broadway but I belong there.”

Peyton was basically enamored by you, more than being his subject, he had made it obvious that you were his star. The two of you had a break to eat, ordering Chinese food as you sat on a small table he had.

“The camera loves you. And I’m sure my teacher will too.” Peyton spoke, his mouth full.

“I never thought I would get this sincere, it’s strangely freeing.” You say, you tried to reach for a napkin but end up knocking the bottle of soda down. Wetting everything. “Shit! Sorry, let me—”

“There’s a rag on my desk.” Peyton tried to remain calm. He hated messes but, it was you. He didn’t care.

You nodded, going to his desk and scanning for a towel or something. Going through the first drawers, your eyes widened at the sight of lotion and Playboy magazines.

“Damn, you’ve been spending your money right.” You said, smirking.

“That’s private. Thank you.” Peyton practically rushed by your side, wanting to take the magazines from you.

“I don’t even want to see why they’re sticked together.” You laugh again. His face was flushed.

“I like having options. And they’re only fourteen dollars anyways.”

You turned to face him. You know, since he mentioned how the film would be filmed, you couldn’t help but think of the Audition format in porn videos.

You know, you get to the audition couch, you sit down. They ask you to slowly strip down until you’re butt naked. They compliment you, then they proceed to fuck you senseless while recording you.

You wouldn’t have done it with anyone else. But it was Peyton. You yearned for him to do that.

“You’ve ever done anything else apart from interviews?” You asked him, as he sat behind the camera.

“Yes? I don’t do much. It’s my style.”

“You’ve never had any girl flirt with you? I don’t know.”

“I haven’t brought many girls here. Only the other girls that live here.” Peyton shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, so you have brought girls back.” You teased him with a smirk. He blushed, his cheeks and ears were pink.

“Yes, I have. Is that a crime? A guy has needs.” He confessed while chuckling, a bit ashamed. But they were friends, right? “Look, I’m just doing this to practice. I guess. For fun too. That’s why I’m letting you swear.”

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve never thought of ever filming yourself having sex?” You asked, staring right at him.

“I’ve thought of it. But— I’m scared of one day sending that video to my professor. Or showing Sharpay the wrong video.”

“It could be fun. Just saying.”

It was just harmless fun, was it not?

“Are you sure?” He asked you. Just imagining you on all fours in his bed made his jeans feel tighter.

“Damn sure.” Peyton didn’t waste a minute in closing his curtains and placing the camera on his desk, recording his bed.

It didn’t take long before you two were making out on the bed. He appeared to be extra hungry for this kind of feeling. The lust, the edge, everything. Perhaps NYU had been everything in his mind lately that he forgot he could have fun too.

And you? Too many lonely nights in your miserable no-bedroom apartment. Too many miserable nights watching whatever FOX was playing.

So when you got the chance to touch Peyton’s hard cock, you didn’t waste it. He grunted as you touched it and squeezed it lightly. His tongue fighting yours as he grabs your face to keep you close. Unbuttoning his pangs, you get yourself on top of the bed completely.

But he was significantly stronger, making it easier for him to pin you down on the bed. His lips making their way to your neck. There’s a chill going down your spine. When was the actual last time you time you had sex? Because you don’t even remember it.

“You smell so good.” He groaned on your neck, leaving love bites wherever he pleased. He was quick go pull down your skirt, leaving you in just your panties. He moved on to take off your shirt, his mouth going directly to your breasts, sucking on them.

“You taste so good.” He muttered against your skin. He took off your bra quickly, his hand agile enough to do it in a snap. He kissed softly, your neck, your chest, your stomach, until he reached your underwear.

One of his hands found their way to your clothed and wet slit, his fingers softly gracing your throbbing pussy. He began rubbing you softly through the panties, gently and not really following a pattern, but making you feel like you were about to touch heaven.

“Do you like that?” He purred softly, his head turning to look at the camera for a few seconds. Making sure it was recording.

“Y-yes…” you whispered softly, making his press his fingers even more, you whined in response.

“Talk louder or the camera won’t pick it up, baby.” He said, his tone a bit forceful.

You didn’t answer. That only made him basically pull your panties down, pulling your thighs apart, the camera getting a one-person pov of your throbbing pussy. His finger immediately went to your sensitive bud, circling with slow touches.

You moaned even louder, your back arching as your hair became a mess underneath you. You began panting, and he was just rubbing you.

“I’ll make you feel good for the camera. It will love seeing you moan for me.” Peyton muttered as he kept rubbing your core before suddenly stopping. You whined, but he didn’t give you much enough time to think before he moved you around the bed, making sure you laid correctly as she positioned his head between your legs, kissing your pelvis, your thighs until his mouth found your core.

His tongue flicking in and out as he devoured you relentlessly, tasting you whole. He knew was he was doing, attacking your sensitive pussy, he wanted to capture how you had been the one with the idea yet you had let him posses you. How you squirmed under him and only him. How he had this sort of power over you. His tongue moving in ways you didn’t know it could, as you felt yourself coming undone over him. You grabbed his blond locks, so that he wouldn’t tease you again and stop without warning. Bucking your hips against his face.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna!—“ and you finished, he devoured your orgasm as if he were a thirsty man. Tasting your sweet cum on his lips and tongue. You were left panting, but not for long as he suddenly crawled on top of you, capturing your lips for yet another kiss.

He took off his pants and threw them anywhere, taking off his tshirt, and his boxers. He was well endowed, very well-endowed. Grabbing his cock with his hand, he didn’t waste a single second before entering you. Making him groan loudly, and you whimpered, your eyes rolling at the back of your head. He started off slow, very slow, so you’d get used to his size. You felt his cock stretching every single part of your right pussy, if he wasn’t made for you and you for him then you don’t know who else could match up.

“You’re so good for me. So eager.” He said, before grabbing your chin and making you look at the camera in the desk. “The camera loves you, can’t you see?”

His pace started to escalate. His thrusts were a bit more determined and strong. Your hips rolling too. One of his hands went to your breasts, tracing the outline of them, pinching your nipples.

“So perfect for me. So perfect for the camera.” He said, his mouth going to kiss your breast. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the studio apartment. “I’ll ruin you for other guys. They won’t have a thing on me, I promise you that.” He basically groaned out, oh, he wanted you all for himself.

His pace and thrusts became more rapid, deep and harsh, making you squirm around him as you moaned. Were you trying to control yourself? No, you wanted all the girls that ever flirted with him that you were marking territory. As weird as that may sound, you wanted Peyton all for yourself. Because, how could you ever let his guy go?

His body slamming into yours, feeling your walls tightening around his cock. You two were lost on each other, the way his face was buried on your neck, just wanting to never forget how you smelled, how you taste, how you sound.

A minutes later, you both finished at the same time. He buried himself as deep as he could, filling her up.

“Austin…”

“Y/n…”

They both repeated out of breath, almost in the way you would say amen after a prayer. He laid on top of you for a few seconds, his hand rubbing your cheek. He let you rest for a few minutes.

“I’ll reward you, and I’ll give you the best closing scene.” You told him. As you sat up from the bed, your legs trembling a little, grabbing his camera from the desk and giving it to him.

He stood up from the bed too, confused as he held the camera. He was confused until he saw you kneel you in front of him. Just the sight of you going on your knees made him get hard again. The camera was huge but that did not stop him from finding a good angle.

“You’re a star.” He said, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

“You said I was your star today.” You said, as you leaned to place small kisses on his pelvis, he resisted the urge of already making her swallow his cock whole.

“You like what you see, baby?” He asked, his cock on full display for you and the camera to see. He gripped her hair, tangling in his hands. “Be a good baby. Show the camera how good you are to me.” He purred.

You licked his dripping tip, before slowly wrapping your lips on his cock, moaned and groaned. Oh, you were good.

“F-fuck.” He moaned, but he kept the camera steady. He wouldn’t have to buy Playboy magazines anymore. “You were made for the camera. Look at you.”

You never bit him or hurt him, you were just perfect, you just had the most perfect mouth. Made just for him, just for his size, just for his cock.

“I’m not going to last very long…” He warned you, bucking his hips too, making you gag, your eyes watery as you were relentlessly sucking him down. His body was tense, in need to release himself. You looked up at him with your widened eyes. Oh, he got off on that too, it nearly made him cum on your throat right then in there.

“I can’t- I won’t last…” He forced out his voice, strained. You couldn’t help but pull away from him for a moment. He gasped, trying to keep himself on control. You stared up at the camera.

“Swallow or face?” You asked him. Just the image of him coming all over your face or making you swallow made him even more weaker.

“Face.” He said quickly. He would rather watch the video in repeat on his you’re covered in his cum than having to imagine you swallowing.

You nod. You spat in your own hand. Now using your hand to please him. Waiting for him to have his climax. It didn’t take long before his face contracted. His cum all over her face.

“Oh… God!” He groaned.

You licked your lips. You never allowed guys to finish in your face. Not even. You didn’t even blow them. But Peyton, damn, he deserved it. He kept recording you, your beautiful face all drenched in his juices. He stopped recording and placed the camera on his bed.

He pulled you up to you feet and kissed you, tasting himself as his tongue made his way into your own mouth. He pulled away. His thumb cleaned your cheek, recollecting some of his cum in it, he brought it to your lip, making you lick it clean.

“I think I’ll need you to star in more of my films.”

Author’s note: this was the most embarrassing things I’ve ever written. I don’t ever write this ‘overly-detailed’ smut. But I tried. This was oh-so-deeply inspired by Austin’s character in NCSI: New York too. Where he plays a porn star.

I hope you guys like it! Love you all! 🫶💕

[fanfictiongirlie]

Twilight: Some Soulmate - Chapter Eleven

Click here for masterlist

Parings: Paul Lahote x Reader

Description: Y/N a member of the Cullen family is imprinted on by one of the wolves, she is shocked, he is shocked. She is struggling with drinking animal blood over human, and he is disgusted by a vampire for a soulmate… But maybe it could work..?

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1,024

"I love you so much" Paul whispered as he lips kissed along my jawline, his hands were running up and down my sides and back as I laid underneath him. His kisses were aggressive, animalistic, he growled before he moved back to my lips, kissing me hard. It was amazing, we were practically the same strength, so our lips bashing against one anothers didn't hurt. I could feel his love towards me, and currently his lust. 

Pauls hand started to move down to my hip and underneath my top, it sent alarm bells off in my head. I suddenly pushed him off me, and jumped back to lean against the bedpost. 

"I'm sorry" I stutter. He was watching me, mostly confused, and flustered. 

"It's ok love" He said, he moved up next to me, and wrapped a arm around my shoulders. 

"Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" He added. 

"It's not that, I've just never been with someone like this before" I admit, I'm sure if my cheeks could, they would be extremely red right now. 

"I thought you would have, you've been alive for so long" Paul says, awkwardly chuckling. 

"The only relationship, per say that I've been in, was the one my parents set up for me" I explain "That was quite early days, I died a few weeks before our wedding" 

I thought about the memory for a little bit, it had been a while since I thought about that. 

"Did you love him?" Paul asked quietly. 

"I barely knew him, I can't even remember his name" I say, unsure.. I lent up to kiss Paul's cheek, and smiled to myself. 

"Despite being 155 now, I think, you are my first love" I admit, I felt his warm arm cuddle me closer. 

"You're so sweet, you are my first love too" He admits "Everyone thinks I've been with tons of women, that I'm a ladies man, but I've kissed one other girl, besides you love" 

I turn to him and smile.

"Thank you for telling me that Paul" I say, leaning forward to kiss him, I went to kiss him further, putting my hands on his shoulders and sitting on his lap, but my phone ringing interrupted me. 

"Y/N, we need you to come home now" Carlisle spoke through the phone. 

"Why wants wrong?" I answered. 

"We'll explain when you get here, alone" He added and ended the call. 

I frowned and looked and Paul had heard the conversation of course, he was pouting too. I reached over and kissed his lips. 

"I'm sorry, I'll be over next time I can" I explain, he nods, kissing my lips again. 

"Tomorrow?" He then asks as I jump off the bed. 

I grin and nod. 

"Sure, I love you" I say

"I love you too my love" He responds, and I leave his house. 

I speed home, worry overcoming me, what could be so wrong that I was needed home so urgently. 

I reached the house and Esme was outside waiting for me, I ran into a hug and then I pulled back, seeing the look on her face, it was sad, and scared. 

"Esme what's wrong?" I ask. 

"Bella and Edward are home" She replies and takes my hand, we start to walk into the house. I could hear my families voices, as well as Bella. I walked into the living room, and froze when I saw Bella, she was not a vampire, she was sickly. Her face was hollow, and she looked thin. 

"What's going on?" I ask. 

"Bella's pregnant" Rosalie says. 

"How?" I ask, that's impossible. 

I sit down, and Bella explains to me, with too much detail, there were things I didn't need to know about my brother. I was still shocked, vampire's couldn't have children, I'd be lying if maybe a tiny spark of heop didn't flare up inside of me. I came back to reality though, maybe if I were the wolf, and Paul the vampire it would maybe be a possibility. But it wasn't. 

I saw Edward give me a sympathetic look, I hated that he read my thoughts, I hated that he could hear my vulnerability. 

"Wait.." Edward suddenly spoke. "The wolf pack, they want to kill the baby, Jacob is outside, he has decided to protect us"

I stood up, wanting to go see Paul. 

"Y/N, you can't !" Edward grabbed my arm to stop me, but I threw him back, I was stronger than him. 

"Y/N, the wolf pack are against us now, Paul will have to follow Sam's orders" Carlisle explains, I feel Esme's hand on mine, stroking it gently. 

"Y/N, Paul wanted to kill it too" I looked up to see Jacob in the doorway, I hissed and moved away from them all. They tried to grab me but I ran out of the house and into the woods, I heard the wolves howling and I ran towards it. 

"You're on our land leech!" I heard, Sam and the other wolves, including Paul were by his side. 

"Paul" I whispered, reaching out, I was too scared to step forward. 

"Paul please" I whispered again, I could feel his love towards me, but his face mimicked the other men, looking at me disgusted. 

"Let's go Paul!" Sam yelled turning away, the others following him, but not Paul. He stepped towards me, taking me in his arms. 

"Y/N, I'll never stop loving you, but I've got to follow my pack" He then kisses my lips, holding onto my face. And then Paul runs off, to follow his pack, I stumble backwards, shocked. Did we just break up? If the wolves were ready to kill my family, he would help.. 

I ran home, confused and hurt. I loved him so much, but he would fight against my family, and before anything I would pick my family. But my heart ached so. I felt as if I kept finding happiness and losing it soon after. I couldn't fight against Paul, I knew the wolves couldn't harm an imprint, but would that change because I was a vampire? Because our family were now in the wrong? 

Previous Part - Next Part

[samott]

Ez volt mar itt, olvastam, de nem talalom. Megkerestem a redditen, link lesz a vegen, de legyen meg itt egyben:

My missing husband came home, but I just know it isn't him

My husband went missing six months ago. Just... went out to work one day and never came home. It was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in our little slice of white-picket-fence suburbia. The police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to him. Our families were devastated. Recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. The updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. I accepted that, hard as it was to admit, my Rick wasn't coming back.

Until he did.

A week ago, I was in the back garden watering my petunias when I heard the garden gate creak open. I jerked my head in that direction and- there he was. Exactly the same as he was the day he disappeared. Same windswept blond hair and bright blue eyes, same curl to his pink lips. I was in shock. Our families had mourned for him, and yet there he was, standing in our garden like he had just popped out for milk or something. When I asked where he had been, he said he didn't know. He couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

All our family and friends are beside themselves with joy. They almost can't believe it. But that's just the thing: I don't believe it.

Look, I understand how crazy this all sounds, I do. Our families would never believe me, and I can’t go to the police unless I want to end up in a straightjacket. But I just know that the man sleeping next to me isn't my husband. I don't know what to do. I know I should be happy, but I'm not. I'm terrified. I don’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, I don't even like watching horror movies. But something about this whole situation makes my skin crawl.

Just let me explain why I'm so sure. Once I've done that, hopefully one of you will believe me, and you'll be able to tell me what to do.

The morning after "Rick" came home, I made him a cup of tea. When I handed it to him, he gave me the brightest smile. Then he took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. Our house was in chaos with his return, and I was still in shock, so I didn't think much of it at the time, but its been replaying in my mind ever since. I know it doesn't sound very significant, but my husband never put sugar in his tea. He was always adamant that it ruined the taste, and he'd get so frustrated if I ever put sugar in his cup by accident. And yet, this man had sugar.

Then it was the golf. A few days ago, when he was out visiting his mom, I recorded a golf tournament that was showing on the TV. It was one of Rick's favourite golfers that was competing, and he never missed it. Once, he even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. Only, when he came home from his parents' and I told him what I'd done, he just seemed... unbothered? Like, he said thanks and everything, and then he asked if I wanted to get dinner. He didn't even watch it, and that’s just so out of character for him.

Then one night I woke up around 2 a.m. to see Rick's face inches from mine just... looking at me with these blank eyes. I kinda gave this nervous laugh and asked "Baby, what are you doing?" And he didn't answer. For like a solid thirty seconds. He just stared, almost like he was looking right through me. Then he suddenly smiled and said, "Sorry, honey. Sometimes I just can’t believe this is real". Then he just rolled over and went to sleep. I didn’t get much sleep after that, myself.

Yesterday, about a week after he came home, the neighbourhood threw a street party to celebrate his return. Everyone from our street and the streets on either side turned up to see him and tell him how happy they are that he's alright. When he wasn't standing with his arm around my waist, he was milling around chatting amicably to each and every one of our neighbours, even the little kids. Jackson, our next-door neighbour Sally's toddler, wanted to play peek-a-boo, and Rick happily played along with a smile on his face. Now, my husband never did that. Rick always said he didn't like kids - that's why we never had any - and so he never wanted to play with any of the neighbourhood children. Especially not Jackson: Rick all but avoided him. Before he disappeared, I had started to suspect it was so I wouldn't see them together and notice the subtle but unmistakable similarities.

The final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was Sally. Just this morning, she came knocking on our door. Her excuse was the tray of brownies she carried, but I think she just wanted to push her way into our morning so that she could see for herself what the situation was. After she left, I called her a nosy busybody. Rick laughed, kissed my head, and agreed with me. That was when I knew for sure that it couldn't really be him. Rick always used to get so mad whenever I insulted Sally, like I didn't have any right to hate her even though she'd been fucking my husband for years. But today there was none of that. He didn’t even try to defend her.

I know what you must be thinking. If he was in an accident or something, he might’ve had some kind of traumatic brain injury that caused him to forget some things about his life, maybe even change his personality. And that's a valid, reasonable explanation. I have no doubt it's what the police would tell me if I reported all this.

But you know why I'm dead certain that man isn't my husband? He doesn't have a scar. If he was really Rick, he'd have a scar on the side of his forehead shaped like the golf club I hit him with. But there's nothing. Not a mark. Honestly, I'm this close to going out tonight and digging up my petunias just to make sure he's still under there.

I don't know what I'm sharing a bed with, but I know it's not my husband. So what the hell am I going to do?

innet

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

As an American, I need this. Please.

Skipping the queue to do this for you, because yeah. That's a solid af reason.

1k for TWATYTK:

---

If there’s one thing he knows, it’s that. Knowing what that’s like has informed so many of his parenting choices over the years. Eddie looks at his husband. He gets the religious, cultural side of it in a way Buck doesn’t. But Buck isn’t a stranger to a different genre of growing up without the necessary affection, either. More so than Eddie, maybe. 

Buck has a strange, contemplative look on his face. 

“And, uh, the open adoption part,” he says to Lourdes. “That’s so you know for sure?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, not quite following. But the way Lourdes’ face sinks, she does. She understands what Buck is saying. 

“Yeah,” Lourdes nods. “I can’t keep her. I know I can’t. But what kind of person would I be if I just… Didn’t make sure she was okay with people who love her properly?”

Eddie gets that, too. It’s the same thought process that led him to changing his will all those years ago. To changing what would have been the natural, assumed process of things in the case of his death. Chris would have been fine if Eddie died and he went to live with his parents. His physical needs would have been met. They wouldn’t have even been hard on him in the same ways they were hard on Eddie, for a number of reasons from different circumstances to ableism. But would they have loved him properly? Fought for him right? No. Eddie knows that wholeheartedly. No. 

Lourdes may not want or be able to parent this child. But she’s got that bone deep instinct that Eddie recognizes. The one where you’re desperate to make sure your child has it better and easier than you did. 

“She’s lucky,” Eddie says suddenly. Because maybe no one has told this girl that. Maybe she’s only been told that she’s fucked up. “The baby. She’s lucky.”

Lourdes blinks. Her face kind of goes blank.

“Not every kid has someone advocating for them like that,” Eddie explains. 

When Lourdes speaks again, her voice is a little shaky.

“Thank you.”

☆☆☆

They leave Pepa’s maybe an hour later. When Pepa and Maria arrived back from their walk, they did of course make Eddie and Buck tell Lourdes all about Chris. Even though Eddie is certain she’s already heard. It’s a bizarre matchmaking process that leaves Eddie with a poor taste in his mouth. Regardless, he’s glad they met Lourdes. Glad they talked to her. Even if he can be one person to make her feel like she’s not a screw up, whatever. He’ll take it. It was worth the rest of the discomfort. 

Buck is quiet as they leave. He’s got a very intense but distant look in his eyes. He’s thinking so hard Eddie worries steam is going to start coming out of his ears. Eddie feels guilty. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to be here. 

They don’t even make it down Pepa’s street before Buck pulls the vehicle over, puts it into park, and looks at Eddie. 

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks. 

“I change my mind,” Buck says. 

“What?” 

“I change my mind. We should adopt her baby.”

Eddie can’t be hearing this correctly.

“Buck,” he sighs. “Come on. You don’t have to do this because you feel bad or pressured.”

Buck shakes his head. “That’s not what this is. I really want to do it.”

“Okay, well,” Eddie huffs, a little exasperated. “You were adamantly against this a few days ago, remember? So I’m sort of confused here.”

“I can’t have a change of heart?” He asks.

“Not without me worrying that you feel backed into a corner or-or guilty…”

“I don’t!” Buck practically snaps. “I’m just fucking terrified, okay?”

Eddie feels a bit stunned. That’s not what he expected to hear. In this whole lengthy discussion, spanning over a year, about becoming parents again, Buck has never expressed fear. That’s sort of Eddie’s thing. Buck has always been the one who plows full steam ahead. Confident. Optimistic. Easy-going. But, Eddie supposes, they’ve never been this close before.

“Okay,” Eddie says gently. “Explain that to me.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “I… I liked that we had everything under control before, right?”

“Right,” Eddie nods. 

“But I… I do like the idea of helping her. Of having a little girl in October? That’s, like, so soon. That’s amazing.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Yeah, that would be pretty cool.”

Well… October 19th is less than four months away. So that’s… Scary as shit, actually? But Eddie could handle that. Of course that’s the part Buck is excited about. But, overall, yes. A little girl, sooner than they expected, does sound pretty wonderful. Even if Eddie had been super sure their next kid would be a boy. That hardly matters. 

“But, Eddie… We would have no control,” Buck says. “She could… She could change her mind. She… She could change her mind before. She could change her mind at the birth. In California, she has thirty days to take her back.” 

“Oh,” Eddie exhales, understanding. 

“I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle that, Eddie. How could I handle that? It was hard enough handing over the baby when I knew he wasn’t mine to keep, I…” Buck gulps for breath. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods. “Okay, I understand. And yeah, that would… That would be awful. It would.”

Buck breathes, clearly trying to bring himself back down.

“For what it’s worth,” Eddie says. “I don’t think she’d do that.”

“We don’t really know her,” Buck says. “I like her. She seems great. But we don’t know her.”

“No,” Eddie agrees. “We don’t. I just… I got a sense she’s really serious about setting that baby up to have a happier life than she’s had. Which is why she’d prefer two public servants to the wealthy church family.” 

“Right,” Buck mumbles. “Yeah, she did… She did seem that way.”

“But…” Eddie sighs. “I don’t think that’s the main factor here.”

[trippinsorrows]

I know Roman will be strict with boys but what would make me cackle is if Lina or Leya got a boyfriend that’s just as big and as bad as him 😂😂😂 like imagine them going to prom and Roman has to look up to him/ or be at eye level because of his height and he’d get a pang in his chest because him and the guy have the same/similar muscle mass. Baby he’d be too stunned and jealous to speak 😂😭

wait, cause i'm screaming at this!!! 😂😂😂😂

but also, i'm wondering why the hell these boys so damn big in high school?!?! like, roman is a big ass man. emphasis on man. but, let both their dates be the same height as him, you're right, he would be fussing away to solana.

"what the fuck are they feeding these kids? they look fucking 25."

solana rolls her eyes, continuing to massage her husband's scalp as he lays in her lap, vehemently venting about his introduction to the girls dates.

their boyfriends, technically. but, she and the girls haven't quite worked out a way to break that news to her husband without his blood pressure shooting through the roof.

or the boys going missing.

"i developed early, too, roman. it happens." it happened to both their girls too, but she refuses to bring up those days. roman's overprotectiveness was times ten when the twins hit puberty. "and they're very nice."

"i don't give a fuck if they're nice or not. they're not good enough for my girls."

"roman, no one is good enough for them, leave it to you." solana leans over and kisses his forehead, advising, "they really like them, baby. please try to be nice."

"yeah, i'll be nice alright," he grumbles. solana rolls her eyes. he's about as mature as their younger kids sometimes. "i want to see their birth certificates." his eyes suddenly alight with an idea she knows she's not going to like. "i should go over there."

solana's eyes widen ever so slightly. yup. definitely not an idea she likes. "roman, you are not going to go over there."

"why not?" he sits up, looking at her like he doesn't know why that would such a bad idea. "anything can happen."

"because you remember the last time you showed up to their dance to check on them? you broke that poor boy's jaw!"

roman shrugs, indifferent. "he was too weak for my leya anyway."

solana sighs, heavily. she'd almost rather be entertaining their other four kids all at the same time than try to reason with her stubborn ass husband. "they'll be fine, roman. they have their security, and don't act like i don't know you don't have jimmy and jey sitting in the parking lot as backup."

roman looks away, neither confirming nor denying.

"and--"

the sound of something breaking pulls them from the conversation at hand followed by hushed, nervous, rushed conversation.

"what did you do?!"

"it wasn't me! it was kai!"

"no, it wasn't! it was koa!"

"no way!"

"i'm telling daddy!"

"snitch!"

"mommy! daddy!" aroha's soft voice is upped several octaves as she calls for her parents. "the twins are being mean to me!"

"nu uh!"

"uh huh!"

roman sighs. heavily. solana only smiles, seeing the frustration already growing. "i think we have more important things to worry about tonight than our teenagers."

roman scoffs, standing up and reaching his hand out to pull solana up from the sofa. "i wish you would even think to tell me you want another baby." she giggles, holding onto his arm as they head off to do damage control. "all these damn kids."

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Title: Pretty and Burned

PART 2: Burned but Still Pretty

Warning(s): None. Age gap.

Authors Note: songs were not released in 2003, however, this story takes place in 2003. I do not own the rights to the songs. Songs were requested by Anonymous reader.

Songs used: reader sings Kat Hasty’s “Pretty Things” song they dance to is “Burns like Her” by Randall King. Songs are underlined and linked, lyrics are italicized.

Cigarette smoke left behind a haze, and the smell of alcohol filled your nostrils. You imagined most of the cigarette haze was from you; you had a Marlboro red between your lips. With each long drag, you would exhale, and feel more calm. Box breathing— with a twist.

The manager of the bar walked up to you, “Your up in ten. Tonight we have a tough crowd.” He said and he patted you on the back.

Being a singer and a songwriter was your dream. Sitting on tour buses, writing music, and pretty much being a drifter— was your dream. Your mom and dad, well, they weren’t worth thinking about. The childhood you had wasn’t worth carrying the baggage, so you started a clean slate.

You rolled from town to town, but Austin was always your home. And you came back to it to test your luck here. Your attire was different than what most of the women around here wore. Of course you had the chunky turquoise jewelry on your fingers and around your neck.

Your wrist tattoos were on full display, and smirked at the site of them. Everyone always had to comment on your tattoos- either they liked them or hated them.

The bar manager held up three fingers, signaling you only had three minutes to get your ass up on stage. You opened your guitar case and it creaked loudly. The site of your guitar made you shiver— there was one thing in this world you adored and it was your guitar. It had the same design you had on your wrist, and you and the instrument were quite the pairing.

This guitar was given to you by an older couple who took you in here in Austin. They gave you your own bedroom, and made you promise when you made it big, to always remember them. But how could you forget them? They gave you a better chance at life than your parents did. Mentally, you waved the thought away.

You stubbed out your cigarette, took a drink from your beer, and pulled the strap of your guitar above your head. “Alright ladies and gents, give it up for Y/N Y/L/N!”

A round of applause erupted in the bar room. You waved as you took your seat on stage, “Hey y’all, I’m back with a incomplete new song. It’s called “Pretty Things”, so I hope you like it.”

You began strumming the strings of your guitar, and your heart raced until you sang the first set of lyrics:

“You said that I drank too much

The tattoos on my skin are not your style”

You closed your eyes and thought about anything but the faces that were staring up at you. They were the same faces you have stared at for months, but your stage fright never seemed to completely fade.

“And you didn't like cigarette on my kiss

Well, I hope that's something you miss

'Cause I'm not slowing down for awhile.”

An all too familiar face walked into the bar and waved at you. Tommy Miller had become a good friend of yours— he was a couple years older, but he acted like he was your age— 20.

Your gaze fell on the person behind him; Tommy hit him on the chest, “That’s her. She’s the one I’ve been telling you ‘bout.”

You focused on Tommy, because somehow, his mere presence calmed you.

“I've been desperate to fix what we've been

But some things need to stay broken

Realized you're not worth me trying to hide”

The man behind Tommy looked similar to him tan, dark and handsome. He had a strong build, he was somewhat muscular, and you could tell he was a tough one. His dark eyes stared up at you, and he gave you a small nod— somewhat introducing himself from across the bar.

Just the sight of him made your heart race. He was undeniably handsome, and rough looking. Definitely your type, but definitely older. You could tell by his demeanor that he didn’t really want to be here, but Tommy always had a way with coercion.

With a smile and a wink, you continued to sing on to the chorus.

'Cause I'm never gonna be

Your southern Texas wannabe beauty queen

And I'm never gonna be

Your red dress, long leg, blonde hair southern dream

I know I'm more than just the pretty things

And that's alright by me, yeah.”

You finished strumming the rest of the tune, and when you stood up a round of applause filled the bar. Tommy and the guy that was with him cheered you on, and with a bow, you thanked the bar room.

Tommy raced up to you and pulled you into a bear hug. “Y/N! Great song. But why was it short?” He questioned and you smiled. “And what’s with that shirt? It’s a little revealing, yeah?” Tommy took his jacket off and pulled it over you. He was also like a big brother.

You rolled your eyes, and pushed his jacket away. “It’s called fashion, T. As for your other question: it’s not finished yet. I needed you to help me finish the next set of lyrics like you did on the last song.” You teased, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Beginners luck.” He replied and you cleared your throat and motioned for him to introduce you to his friend.

Tommy brought the man closer you, “Y/N, this is my big brother Joel. And Joel this is my sister from another mister, Y/N.” He said in a “trying” to be cool voice.

Joel stuck out his hand, “Nice to meet ya. Great song by the way.”

You could feel your face heat up, and you took his hand in yours. He had a firm hand shake and an intense gaze, “Pleasure’s all mine. And Thanks. It’s not finished yet, but I’m hopin’ to finish it tonight.” You replied and patted your guitar.

Joel’s eyes were fixated on your guitar, “That’s a nice guitar ya got there. May I?” He asked gesturing to hold it.

You pulled the strap over your head, “Course. You play?”

When the guitar hit his hands he sat down, got into position and started playing a random tune. “Yeah, I know my way ‘round a guitar. I got one of my own at home.”

With an ounce of courage you smiled, “Maybe sometime you can show it to me. And we can play some tunes.” You said and before he could answer you, the manager of the bar called you over.

You excused yourself from the two men, and went over to the manager.

Tommy smacked Joel’s shoulder, “She’s into you. Y’all would make a good pairing. She’s gorgeous. She sings—”

Joel cut his brother off before he could finish, “And she’s young .”

“She’s 20. About to be 21.” Tommy shrugged his shoulders, but Joel shook his head.

“I’m 35. With a twelve year old daughter. She could be my daughter’s sister for crying out loud.” Joel explained and Tommy rolled his eyes.

Joel stared at you talking to the manager. You were beautiful. Fun. Witty. Had a good voice. But too young to want to be with someone who was sixteen years older, and had a kid. Too much baggage for someone so ambitious and young.

You caught Joel staring at you, and you gave him a small wave. When the manager finished talking to you about singing the next couple of nights, you walked back over to the brothers.

“Hey Tommy, you should go get me a beer.” You said and Tommy practically jumped from the barstool.

“Yes, your highness.” He said with a bow, and you elbowed him in the chest. You took Tommy’s spot, and leaned against the counter.

Joel chuckled, “Seems you got him wrapped around your finger.”

You shook your head, “He’s a good friend. I’d do anything for him.”

Joel nodded, you cared about his brother— added bonus points. Your legs didn’t fully touch the ground so you leaned forward on the stool, and kicked your legs back and forth. “About earlier— when am I gonna see that guitar of yours?”

He smiled at your forwardness, “When my kid isn’t home.” Joel said honestly and you pursed your lips and nodded.

“Honest. That’s respectable. I like that.” You looked into his dark brown eyes, and hopped off the barstool. He raised his eyebrow when you held out your hand, “At least dance with me cowboy.”

Joel smiled and took your hand in his, and you led him through the crowd. Of course by the time you found an open space, a slow song took over the speakers, “Well, looks like a slow song. We can sit down if you want.” You suggested, and Joel shook his head. He brought you close to his body, and took your left hand in his. Joel led you in a simple two step dance, and you smiled. “I’m impressed- you know how to two step.”

“It’s been awhile.” He replied.

Give me something that burns like her

Give me something that hurts like heaven

The two of you focused on the beat of the music and the lyrics.

That kind of fire in my heart, leaving smoke in my shirt

I'll take it any way I can get it

The silence was loud between the two of you— until you spoke up. “What do you do for a livin’?” You asked.

“I’m a carpenter. What about you?” He asked, and you shrugged.

“A little bit of everything. I bartend, and the manager here pays me to play. I hustle in pool.” You replied as you named off what you could.

Joel nodded to your response, “Do you sing too?” You asked him and again, he nodded.

“Yeah. I do. If I didn’t get married so young I wanted to do what you were doing. Had a love for music when I was a boy.” He said and he spun you around.

When you were back against his body, you smiled. “Maybe we can sing a song up there together. Open mic nights are on Saturdays.” You suggested and he nodded.

“I’d like that.”

His eyes were a dark brown, and the neon light illuminated the small smile lines on his face. He must smile a lot, that’s a good sign. The feeling of his calloused hands against yours made your heart flutter, and then his other hand fell from your shoulder to your waist. You had just met this man, and somehow, he made you feel safe against his touch.

Joel felt it too- it was like an electrical shock that went from his hand all the way to his heart. You kept looking down at your feet, it was a nervous reaction that you felt underneath his gaze. Your black Stetson covered a majority of your face, and Joel took his hand and gently lifted your chin upward. He felt like being risky and brave tonight.

“Don’t be shy now.” He said as he brought you closer into his body.

You stared up into his eyes and felt like your heart was going to explode out of your chest. Now your chest was flush against his, and he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. He spun you around, and pulled you back into his body.

Joel never did these sort of things; he never danced so intimately with someone he just met. But you were different and he could feel that, you had charmed him all the way to the dance floor.

The two of you had stopped dancing and were staring into each other’s eyes. The other people on the dance floor maneuvered around the two of you:

This feeling that I'm feeling right now

Like it's been forever, chasing it down

Slowly, he removed your stetson, and hovered his lips over yours. Joel was testing the waters, but you were too eager. Standing on your tip toes, you pressed a kiss to Joel’s lips. They were softer than they had appeared, and his hands wrapped around your waist, he held your hat firmly against you.

His lips moved quickly against yours, and all you could do was smile in the kiss. This was all too new for you- kissing a man you had just barely met, and genuinely enjoying every second of it. Was it bad to be falling for someone this quickly?

Give me something that burns like her

Something that burns like her.

When you pulled away from him, you were breathless. He too, was trying to catch his breath, and out of nervousness, your bit your bottom lip. “I’m sorry- I just got caught up in the moment.” You said, and Joel rubbed the back of his neck.

“Don’t be- I uh. I enjoyed it. Haven’t felt that way in a long time.” He said and he handed you your hat. You ran your fingers over the felt on the brim of the hat. “I don’t do this often, and I’m never this forward, but do you want to go someplace else, and just talk?” You questioned, and Joel smiled.

“I would like that.” He said and you put your stetson back on.

“Awesome. Uh, let me go get my guitar and we can go.” You left Joel behind, and you could feel his gaze on your figure. This made you give your hips a little more sway.

Tommy watched this all unravel from a distance, and when he knew you were out of view, he walked over to his brother. “I told you she was something else. She’s a good person, Joel. Young, yes, but the world hasn’t been too kind to her.”

Joel looked at his brother and gave him a small smile. “I thought you two would hit it off, I just didn’t think you’d kiss her so soon.” Tommy said with a chuckle, and he clapped Joel’s back.

Joel watched as you placed your guitar back in the case. He never considered getting into another relationship- hook ups were okay, but his main focus was Sarah.

He never had time for these little excursions that Tommy would try to plan. But tonight, he wanted to get to know you more. When he seen you on that stage, he was drawn to you like a moth is drawn to a flame. The question that remained in the back of his mind was: are you going to burn him too?

His marriage didn’t last, so would this go any further? He didn’t have the time to think any more about the what ifs, because you were already coming back to him. Who would’ve thought this would be the best night of his life before the world went to hell in a handbasket.

_______

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Especially you, anonymous. This will be a three part story, I think. Let me know what you guys thought! Not proof read, just skimmed through.

Comments, likes, and reblog are always appreciated!

[dandylovesturtles]

Please tell me something about the Shape of Water AU I'm very curious

this is just the doc title for my "100 Feet and a World Away" AU! I have the lore post linked in my pinned.

tldr: the boys get kidnapped young and raised in a lab by humans who aren't aware they have human level intelligence, and they try to escape.

I posted a bit about Donnie (aka Turtle Four) eating french fries awhile ago but here, have the rest of the scene too:

April unwraps something. The smell assaults his nose - greasy meat, cheese, that red vegetable he’s seen sometimes - and he slips into the water and swims over, popping out just shy of the fence.

“I’m sorry, are you eating during our escape planning meeting?”

“Don’t start with me,” she says, holding up a hand. “I had to work through breakfast to catch up on my homework for my morning classes, then work through lunch to catch up on my homework for my afternoon classes, and then I worked through dinner to catch up on everything else.” She takes a bite, chews, swallows. “This is the first chance I’ve had to eat all day.”

“Huff! Fine. But did you have to bring something with so much…” he flails his hands, “smell?”

“It’s just a burger. What, you never had a burger before?”

He stares at her. She catches his eye, and then lowers her gaze.

“Right. Stupid question.”

“Sometimes the humans bring those. The burgers, you said? They eat them around noon.” He thinks of it with distaste. He can remember exactly which of the humans tend to chew with their mouths open, or talk with food in their mouths. It makes him feel slimy when he watches. 

“We call that “lunch”,” April says. She looks at the burger, then back at Four. It’s with an expression he doesn’t understand, but he’s noticed from her more and more. “Do you want to try it?”

He hesitates. He doesn’t know if he wants to or not. The smell is overwhelming, and he isn’t sure how it will taste. How it will feel, in his mouth.

No one ever offers him food, though.

“...I’m perfectly fine with my nutrition blocks,” he finally says.

“Oh come on, Donnie, that’s not food.”

“It is. It gives me all the vitamins and minerals I need. And…” He stumbles over what he wants to say. He hates when he does that, but he doesn’t know the words for what he’s trying to convey. He wishes he had a bigger vocabulary. He wishes he were allowed to read.

Wishes get him nowhere. He has to focus on the task at hand. Only, April doesn’t seem to want to continue with their escape planning unless he makes a decision about the burger.

“...And?” she prompts, startling him.

“...I don’t know… some food… feels weird,” he finally says.

“Feels weird?”

“In my mouth.”

For a moment she just stares at him. He guesses he must have said something weird. Humans must not care about how food feels in their mouth. Maybe that’s just a turtle thing.

Or maybe his brothers don’t think that way either. Maybe it’s just a Four thing.

But then April’s eyes go a little wider, and she says, “Ooooh. You have texture issues, huh?”

“Texture?”

“Yeah. How the food feels. Some people get really bothered by it; guess you do, too.”

Oh. So it’s not just a Four thing. There’s a whole name for it. He learned something new! How exciting!

“Yes!” he declares. He feels more confident about it now. “I have texture issues!”

She laughs at that. It’s not a mean laugh. He’s not sure why what he said was funny, though, but before he can ask she’s tearing off a small piece of the meat on the side of the burger she didn’t bite.

“Here. Just try it.” She slips it through the gaps in the chain-link, where he can get to it. “If it feels bad, you can just spit it out. I won’t be mad.”

She’s always telling him that. That she won’t be mad. He doesn’t know why; he’s never seen her get mad, at least not at him. But she always tells him that anyway.

It makes him feel better, somehow, even though that’s illogical.

He takes the meat gingerly in his fingers and looks at it. It doesn’t look particularly appetizing. The smell is a lot, but not so bad now that he’s getting used to it. He likes meat - not that he’s had it much. Maybe it will be fine.

He puts it in his mouth and immediately knows it isn’t. He doesn’t like the way the meat falls apart. He can’t describe it, he just knows it’s wrong.

He spits it out. April said she wouldn’t be mad.

“No good, huh?” she asks. She doesn’t sound mad.

“No. It was bad, actually.”

“Hmm, alright…” She glances around, then grabs the sack and pulls out something else: a small container of something thin and golden brown. “Wanna try a french fry?”

“A french fry?”

“It’s just a fried potato.” She pulls one of the thin stick-things (french fry) out of the container and pokes it through the fence. “Here!”

He takes it, looking it over suspiciously. It has the same greasy smell as the burger, but it’s not meat, it’s “potato,” so it must have a different texture.

He nibbles the end, and oh.

It’s actually good!

He devours the rest of the fry. She laughs again, and when he looks back at her she’s smiling.

“Alright, so the fries are a winner. Here, have some more!”

She slips a few more through the fence, and then a few more. Four happily eats all the fries she passes him. They taste nothing like the nutrition blocks, they taste better than the nutrition blocks, and they don’t feel bad in his mouth, not even a little.

“When I get out of here,” he says, after downing the last one, “I’ll eat like this every day.”

“Maybe not fries every day. They’re pretty unhealthy.” She shrugs. “But there’s all kinds of other things out there for you to try! We’ll figure out all the foods you like to eat.”

[bixels]

The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.

[trappedinafantasy37]

"Minthara is so abusive to the player" *INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE*

Minthara would literally go to fucking hell for the opportunity to personally beat the absolute shit out of the person who actually did abuse you. She will throw hands with gods and devils just to avenge you.

And you will not be able to convince her not to.

[necrotic-nephilim]

I started in DC by reading fanfics, but as I began to read actual comics, I started to be unable to read the actual fanfic that got me into it in the first place because it's so out of character.

But there are still some stories that I love to read because I love the found family trope so much, even if it isn't really accurate to the source material.

As a comics purist (sometimes), are there tropes that you like enough that you'll still enjoy a fic even if it's not accurate to canon?

oh my god this is SUCH a fun question. bc while i started with the comics, there were certain characters and/or character dynamics where i was exposed to the fanon before the canon (just bc it's hard to read everything when you start out just to read some fanfic) and so i've definitely experienced the fanon to canon transition. (*especially* with Jason Todd. i had only read 80s/90s stuff where he was already dead or the New-52 bc that was on-going when i got into comics and man. the fanon misunderstandings i had about him before i got frustrated and sat down to read all his pre-Flashpoint stuff were absolutely bonkers.) and aside from that, whilst i tend to prefer canon over fanon, i'm not past giving fanon its flowers for occasionally having really interesting insights. occasionally. so some of my fanon "guilty pleasure" tropes would probably be

Morally Grey Tim Drake - this is one where if you try to back it up with canon, i *will* get salty about it. of everyone in the Batfam aside from maybe Bruce and Cass, Tim has the *most* black and white morals. often his internal conflicts are routed in such an inability to compromise his moral views and it can cause him to clash with other characters. he's *very* stiff and rigid in his beliefs and is *rare* to compromise in even the smallest ways. i mean, DC has repeatedly used Tim Drake of Tomorrow/Savior/Gun Batman!Tim for a reason. it's to demonstrate that of everyone, Tim *cannot* have his morals compromised. there's no grey area for him. he's zero or a hundred, so if he tips over the edge of "too far" he tips *all the way*, and doing so is one of his worst fears, how he could go "too far" if he let himself. a couple panels out of context from Red Robin (2009) (which was a grief spiral for Tim to begin with) don't change that. now that said. if it's done *right*, i sort of love Tim being morally grey in fanfic. it takes a specific flavor for me, and it's incredibly important to include that mental spiral along with it, of him struggling to justify it. i don't have any interest in "Tim Drake is loosy goosy with Bruce's morals and has the highest kill count and no one knows teehee" bc it doesn't play with the interesting parts of making Tim morally grey, which are fracturing his psyche. but all in all, i think it's fun to put Tim in a morally grey area and i will read it in fanfic and i enjoy writing it a lot

Joker Junior!Tim Drake - i've not written it on this account (yet) but on my main ao3 account one of my biggest fics surrounds this concept. this is one of those "well *technically* it's canon but only in a specific very divorced from the comics universe and would not work at all in the main timeline" so, i categorize it as fanon in that 95% of fics exploring the concept are not doing so within the Batman Beyond universe, but the main timeline. i just love it. I'll take any excuse to whump Tim, but this concept is so fun. psychologically breaking Tim will always be my favorite pastime. there are so many ways to explore the long-term effects this could have on him, how it could affect the Batfam. i'm not a fan of it being used as a "gotcha" to Jason or Babs' trauma with the Joker to paint Tim as the Ultimate Victim, but it is fun to see how their relationships would be affected by being mutual victims of him. (i have a vague JayTim idea where TIm fully retires from being Robin after being Joker Junior and killing the Joker, making Steph Robin for most of his typical Robin era and Jason still tracks him down out of curiosity bc he wants to know what happened and all. very underbaked but i've got thoughts.)

Renegade/Apprentice of Slade!Dick Grayson - this is another one where yes, this happened *sort of* in canon, but i highly doubt most people writing Renegate!Dick have read or are actually pulling from Nightwing: Renegade. it's just an exploration fo the concept fo Dick being Slade's apprentice and i will always eat it up in any capacity. whether Dick grows up with Slade from a young age, or chooses Slade for whatever reason later in life. it's not anything that works in canon bc it compromises Dick morally (similar to the above with Tim) and therefore will always come across incredibly fanon in most fics. but i can't say i don't enjoy it. it's fun to make Dick a little morally fucked up and see what you can make him under Slade's tutelage.

Jason & Damian Meeting in the League -there's no world where i believe this could work in the canon comics. (maybe in the Young Justice cartoon i suppose, but even then i think it's iffy) i would go as far to say it's wildly unrealistic. i don't see a world where Ra's would let Jason anywhere *near* Damian, bc Jason was Talia's pet project that he didn't approve of. that all said, there's something very interesting about how they *could've* met and them potentially bonding during that timeframe. them being somewhat brotherly during this time because Jason sees Bruce in Damian and sort of latches onto the kid and Damian is full of wonder hearing real stories about Batman and Robin, then that getting violently ripped away by Jason leaving the League is fun to me. it's fun how that could affect them within the Batfam and all. it's super fanon to me, but i do not care. i will eat it up

Bad Dad Clark Kent/Good Dad Lex Luthor - i will admit as a late, i've been less and less kind to this particular fanon bc of everything i've argued with people about, *this* one seems the most pervasive as misunderstood fanon. i don't mind when fanon exists, my gripe is when ppl try to claim it's canon. and the *arguments* i've had over this with people who can never seem to cite an actual comic are... frustrating. but that said, i think there is something fun to this strictly in fanon. the duality of who you expect to accept Kon and who you expect to hurt him being flipped is just sort of fun for the occasional guilty pleasure fic. it can make Kon's internal conflict a bit more interesting. the same goes for the Jon favoritism from Clark, it's not a canon thing (and i rlly wish ppl understood how complicated the timeline of Kon and Jon is and any distance from Clark toward Kon isn't malice, it's that Kon is from a timeline that Clark does not remember in the current canon so Clark just straight up doesn't know the poor kid.) but it's sort of fun to give Kon that complex of being overlooked and forgotten sometimes. making Kon just a *bit* more Luthor than Kent will *always* appeal to me in fanfic, especially if he *knows* it's wrong but craves approval from anyone who will give it.

Good Dad Bruce Wayne - i'll die on the hill Bruce is canonically a shitty father. maybe not to the extreme some people write him as, but he's not great at it. that said, i enjoy it in fanfiction. sometimes, i just want silly fluff or hurt/comfort where Bruce finally gets it right and manages to comfort whatever Batkid is in the fic. one of my favorite fics of all time is hinged on Bruce being a good dad, so i think it's just fun to explore how good the relationships *could* be, if Bruce was slightly less of an asshole. i usually prefer him as an asshole, but there are times i want low stakes nonsense.

Gotham Rogues Having Soft Spots for Robin(s) - just about every Rogue in Gotham has done something absolutely irredeemable, and most of them don't like or care about anyone in the Batfamily. but if there's a fic where one of the Robins inexplicably is sort of close with a Rogue and they have a cute silly relationship out of it? I'll eat it up i fear. Steph and the Riddler are besties? I'll believe it. Tim and Scarecrow get along pretty well? give me ten of these. Rogues protecting Robins just hits a spot. the unexpected nature of the relationship, as well as the fact they see each other regularly, can make a lot of good fodder.