#thank you for bringing us back to what matters

[apatheticsunday]

Manifest Destiny

AKA "Danny knows about Bruce Wayne's little adoption habit, so he actively fights back by making digs at the older man's age. He doesn't realize he essentially adopted himself by calling Bruce 'grandpa'!" prompt idea!!

Okay, so 19-year-old Jazz moves to Gotham because Arkham has an psychiatrist internship that guarantees a job after graduation from Gotham-U. She takes a 12-13 year old Danny with because the "ghost attacks" (i.e., her parents are getting very obsessed with dissecting Phantom and it's genuinely worrying) are getting worse. Now Danny's in Gotham Prep... along with Damian Wayne.

They do not get along.

Damian stabs Danny with a pencil, Danny bites Damian so hard that he needs stitches, and the detentions only increase their bloodthirst because, "He started it!!" It comes to a head when Damian shoves Danny down the stairs (he wasn't really meaning to, he just pushed too hard), and Danny goes down hard. As in not-getting-back-up kind of hard. And Damian realizes he just killed a civilian. He's running through contingency plans, trying to figure out whether he can hide the body or if he should confess to Father, when the Fenton boy's broken neck... becomes un-broken?? And he sits up??

So, 13-year-old Damian makes a logical decision. Daniel Fenton is clearly his Arch Nemesis. He's undeniably a meta (perhaps with super-healing abilities?) so he can withstand Damian's too-enthusiastic violence. And Danny's like, this fucker just killed me. I'm going to beat his ass. Except Damian has a really high pain tolerance and is literally the heir to the League of Assassins. Long story short, Damian and Danny have "play dates" where they spend the entire time trying to kill/beat each other up. Jazz is just happy that Danny seems to have made a friend.

Bruce, on the other hand, takes one look at a scrawny, black-haired, blue-eyed kid who clearly has some childhood trauma, and mentally becomes Bat Dad. He tried to approach the subject once. Bruce carefully, tentatively asked, "Do you have a place to stay, son? We have plenty of rooms." To which Danny replied, "I'm not your son, I have a dad!! Why don't you go sit down before you break a hip, grandpa!!" (Tim choked on his tea, Damian nearly climbed across the table to strangle Danny, and Dick - who doesn't even live at the manor, he was just dropping off a case from Bludhaven PD - laughed so hard he cried.)

Except... Danny keeps coming over to the Wayne Manor (since Damian refuses to 'spar' at Jazz's one bedroom apartment, as it lacks a personal gymnasium). And Bruce is still kind, no matter how many times Danny makes fun of him for wearing bifocals or turtlenecks, or when he just straight up calls Bruce an old man. Plus, Damian's kind of mellowed out, too. He's teaching Danny actual sparring techniques, hand-to-hand combat, and explains different types of weapons/how to use them. Alfred brings the boys snacks. Occasionally Dick and Jason will visit for dinner, ruffling the boy's hair and joking about something or another. He's even introduced to Steph, Cass, and Barbara.

It dawns on Danny one evening, when Alfred is readying the car to take him back to his and Jazz's apartment. Bruce is scraping leftovers into a plastic container for Jazz to re-heat when he gets home and Danny's debating quietly with Damian about whether octopi are smarter than Superman. (Damian says yes, octopi are definitely smarter; he's seen Superman mutter to himself "lefty loosey, righty tighty" when trying to unscrew a water bottle cap.)

Then Bruce is handing Danny the leftovers, and Danny distractedly gives Bruce a side-hug, saying, "Thanks, grandpa."

Totally unironically. Danny's internal monologue is just what the fuck did I just say as Bruce slips him a $20 ("For a treat on the way home.") and escorts him to the front door. He thinks about it as Alfred drives him home. Thinks about it when he and Jazz curl up to watch a movie that night. Danny belatedly realizes that he's been unintentionally thinking of Bruce "Serial Adopter" Wayne as his grandfather??? For months now?? How could this happen??

Back at the Wayne Manor, Bruce is still in the kitchen, listening to Damian continue to debate Superman's intelligence while Tim scrolls on his work tablet. He'll probably take the kids, including the newest edition to the family, to the zoo this weekend.

[hotchnerwrites]

I loved your fic Warmth!! You write caretaker Hotch so well, I would love to read more cute or caring moments where Hotch is looking out for a shy reader!!! Little things like giving his jacket, watching closely on cases, the sweet stuff!! you killed it

Soft Spot

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, no use of (y/n), no continuous plot it's fragmented stories tbh

A/N: Thank you so much!!! So very glad you enjoyed Warmth <3 I spent all day indulgently dreaming of the things he'd do OMGGG anyways this is the product. It was supposed to be a 5+1 but i think a headcanon-inspired style suited this story better where you kinda see fragments of their daily interactions. I hope you like it and it's what you imagined!!! Enjoy reading, mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open! Send me stuff :)

You didn’t want to be a burden. You liked putting people first. It felt good to be in a caretaker role yourself. You liked bringing Reid his coffee loaded with ten packets of sugar. You liked bringing Garcia collectables for her desk. You liked giving Rossi your chair if the room was one too short. It didn’t matter that it sometimes came at the cost of your discomfort. You’d never liked being the centre of attention anyway.

But perhaps that begged the age-old question— who cared for the caretaker?

●・○・●・○・●・

The first time it happened was on the jet. 

It was a late-night flight, nothing new. But the AC in the cabin must have malfunctioned that day. It was brutally chilly, and since you were returning from a case in Florida, you had nothing but summer clothes. Your tea wasn’t doing much, so you occasionally walked the length of the cabin, trying to be quiet so the others could sleep. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to ask for something as simple as a jacket.

But Hotch saw. 

He didn’t look up from his paperwork— he just held it out as you passed his seat again. His arm barred you from dodging past, so you reluctantly draped it over your shoulders. Just five minutes, then you’d return it.

Maybe he heard your thoughts because right then, he said, “Keep it on.” It wasn’t a polite request; he had already decided for you.

But it’s Hotch so you listen.

No one questioned where you got the jacket from when the jet landed. But you catch JJ’s faint smile from the corner of your eye when she sees the jacket hanging from your desk chair the next day.

Hotch never asked for it back.

●・○・●・○・●・

You’re a great agent in terms of fieldwork. The whole team trusted you. Of course, you wouldn’t be there if they didn’t, but it felt nice to realise that nevertheless. 

But blind trust didn’t mean Hotch wouldn’t watch you like a hawk.

It was probably just a coincidence. You always ended up paired with him when heading into dangerous situations. He never hovered or anything, he always let you do your thing. But it was the way he positioned himself slightly ahead of you when clearing rooms, a silent wall between you and any potential threats,

And then there were the crime scene situations. You could hold it together; your poker face an acquired skill. But some cases hit home. You never let it show too much, but Hotch noticed when your fingers curled into tight fists, shoulders going rigid.

He never called you out on it, or put you on the spot.

Instead, his voice came through the comms before you and Morgan breached a suspect’s house. “Be careful.”

He said it to both of you, but somehow, you knew it was meant for you.

And later, when the case was over, and you were sitting on the back of an ambulance with a shallow cut on your arm from a scuffle, he was there.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, voice low.

You shook your head. “No. It’s fine.”

He didn’t argue, but he sat next to you long after the paramedic finished patching you up.

●・○・●・○・●・

You didn’t even realise when it started.

One morning, you had walked into the bullpen, and there had been a steaming hot cup of coffee on your desk. Just the way you took it. You blinked at it, confused, but you assumed Garcia was behind it.

But it happened again the next day. Then the day after. And again the following day.

It was never a big thing or a grand gesture. Just a simple takeaway cup with your order etched into the side. When you finally thanked Garcia, she looked utterly bemused.

“Oh, sugar. That’s not me,” she’d said, a grin stretching across her face.

No way.

So the next time it happened, you glanced towards Hotch’s office. Sure enough, he was already looking at you. But he never said a word. He didn’t even smile. He just looked down at his files and kept writing.

You sipped the coffee at your desk slowly, savouring every sip, willing it to last longer. The warmth spreading across your chest had nothing to do with the drink.

●・○・●・○・●・

The rain had been terrible all week. Sick of fighting your way through public transport where everything was slippery and wet, you had treated yourself to an Uber. You didn’t have an umbrella while you waited, so you stood under the awning in front of the building. You’d make a run for it when the car showed up.

As you scanned the road in front of you for your designated car, a black umbrella swung open over your head.

You turned, startled, only to find Hotch standing behind you, holding it up without a word. His coat was getting wetter, but he didn’t look like he cared.

“You’ll get soaked,” you said, noting how he had angled it more over you than himself.

“I’ll be all right,” he replied simply.

And that was that.

He waited till your car came, and then he helped you get in, ensuring not a drop touched your head as you bundled yourself into the backseat. 

It wasn’t until you were almost at your front door that you realised— he’d never had an umbrella with him when he came to work this morning.

Hotch had taken the time to find one— just for you.

●・○・●・○・●・

The Denver case was a disaster. 

Too many close calls. Too many what-ifs.

Sleep was difficult that night. You stared at the ceiling of your hotel room, letting yourself dissociate. But a buzz from your phone snapped you out of your reverie. When you checked your screen, there was just one text message.

You did well today. - A.H.

You stared at those four words for too long. No over-the-top reassurances, no unnecessary fluff. Just an acknowledgement.

You never responded, but the next morning on the jet, he caught your eye and nodded, ever so slightly. Like he knew you saw the message. Like he knew it helped.

And maybe, just maybe, it had eased your worries a bit that day.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[bewaryofpity]

Hey Viki, guess who's back😩

Can I request smut #18 w our boy Jack??

Thank you <3

i got carried away and it turned into mean!jack 👀

also tw for face fucking just in case :)

18. “Feel this? It's just for you.”

.

He should had known that letting you parade around in the skimpiest bikini was not a great idea, and Jack was adamant to let you know what kind of effect you had on him.

You were in the middle of playing beer pong with some of the guys when he almost choked on his beer as you bent over the table, ass on full display for him while you prepared for your shot. And when you jumped after the ball made it in Cole’s drink your ass jiggled in a way that drove him crazy. But all it took for Jack to absolutely lose his mind was how you downed your beer as fast as you could, drink spilling from the corner of your lips onto your tits, always clumsy when you were tipsy.

He got up from his seat and walked over to you, vainly trying to cover the tent in his trunks.

“Hey baby,” he said while pressing a kiss to your cheek. “The cooler’s out of ice, wanna help me get some from the garage?”

“Sure, yeah.” 

And it didn’t take long before he locked the door behind himself, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to stop you from walking farther from him. “Knees. Now.”

“What– Oh!”

Your words got interrupted as he pushed on your shoulders to get you on your knees. You were staring up at him through your lashes confused, but your expression soon turned into something else and a grin plastered on your face. You thought you knew what his intentions were, yet your mouth agape as he shoved your face into him.

“Feel this? It's just for you, baby.” He snarled, nuzzling your face further into his erection. “This is what you do to me, yeah? Are you gonna take care of it?”

You nodded, your face brushing his clothed cock had him bite at his lip to stifle a groan. You managed to get your face just a few inches off him to bring his trunks down, hand instantly wrapping around his length to start jerking it. But you should had known you weren’t gonna be in control when he tugged harshly at your hair, head lolling back as you whimpered in pain.

Jack replaced your hand with his while he rubbed his leaking tip against your lips, parting them open as he pushed your head slowly further on his cock. Your hands instinctively rested on his thighs to brace yourself, to slow him down, but that only fed his need. Tears welled up in your eyes as he held your head still, nose brushing against his stomach, almost gagging around him. He didn't give you much time to adjust before he started to guide your head up and down, sliding his length across your tongue.

“Oh fuck,” he growled, his hand nestling in your hair, pulling hard as you whined against him. Your nails clawed at his thighs as he thrusted his hips against your mouth, balls slapping your chin as his pace never faltered. Tears fell quickly down your flushed cheeks as he used you, tip hitting the back of your throat.

He pulled you off him briefly as he saw you struggling to breathe, spit and tears covering your face as you heaved for a breath. “C’mon, suck it.”

Impatient as he was, he forced you back on his cock with a loud whine from you as he fucked himself faster down your throat. Your jaw started to ache, your lips swollen red and glistening with spit and cum, but it didn’t matter when you looked up to see him lost in pleasure, eyes focused on the way your pretty lips were gliding along his cock.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he hissed and groaned while he stuffed your throat with his cock. 

He murmured a string of curses as he began to lose control, hips erratic making your nose bump into him, and without warning, he held your face in place as he came hard in the back of your throat, thick and warm.

Jack pulled you off, caressing your cheek as he watched you swallow his cum. Wobbly, you got back on your feet holding onto his shoulders.

“You okay baby?” He asked while running his hand through your hair and you simply hummed in acknowledgement.

He placed a soft kiss on your lips, groaning as he tasted himself on your lips. Giggling, you brought him closer, deepening the kiss. “Jacky?”

“Mh?”

“Think you could repay the favor?”

[lets-try-some-writing]

the duality of an autobit having their kid fall asleep inside them

aww they trust me to keep them safe while i drive

and

...they are drooling in me oh no ew ew ew ew ew ew

honourable mention: arcee, who instead of getting either of those was met with the reality of balancing jack on top of her while he was out and not crashing or dropping him, which would kill him

Y e s

On one hand, the bots are honored to have their little ones trust them so much. On the other hand...

Gross.

I imagine they even have a few little rules just to keep things decent. For Arcee, the rule is that Jack is NOT getting on her while his hands are all greasy. Sweat is acceptable because it washes off easy, but if he gets off work with oil or other things on him, that's a no go. Get a rad and clean up, then we roll.

Ratchet has had so much crap to carry around over his life that one of the kids drooling or passing gas won't bother him too much, aside from maybe an internal grimace. But what will get him is food crumbs. Bodily functions are acceptable. They aren't really able to be helped. But NO ONE is allowed to eat while riding with him because getting crumbs into his internals is the same as getting sand stuck in a swimsuit and he won't have it. He got a french fry stuck somewhere and he could feel that sucker going stale in there until he got Raf to grab it.

Optimus is generally chill as can be when it comes to carrying around people in his alt-mode. He's too old and too nice to care more often than not. The only thing he will not tolerate is foul language. You ride with Prime, you use every word in the book except an actual curse. For him its just a matter of peace. Driving around is calming for him, and he would rather not have it ruined by curses, thank you.

Bulkhead has a personal vendetta against snoring, but that's only because he hung around with enough wreckers for the sound to quite literally make him unable to recharge. It's a trauma response. If a kid passes out in the back and starts snoring, he's turning up the radio to cover it or wake them up. Either works for him.

Bumblebee is the one bot who has issues with muddy shoes. He's a scout, he's used to grime. But for goodness sake, if one more kid jumps into his alt-mode with mud covered shoes, he's going to lose it. He can handle a little dirt, just not the globes that come from shoes. So unless the situation is serious, he requires his passengers to rub their shoes on the grass or something.

Smokescreen doesn't like small humans in him, period. He can handle Jack because Jack has already been trained to not bring weird fluids into a bot's alt-mode by Arcee. but the others? Nope, he's not doing that unless he has to. He does NOT want drool in him.

Ultra Magnus refuses to let humans ride unless specifically asked. It's nothing personal really. But if he had to pick someone to ride with him, it would be Fowler. At least he knows to not screw up anything.

Wheeljack has no problems with anything brought in. He just doesn't want fingers being jammed into his AC system or anything, thank you.

[emmyrosee]

happy birthday @reverie-starlight thank u for always screaming with me 🥹🩷

——-

Even asleep, you recognize the familiar rumble of his motorcycle, and you stir happily at the noise. Your neighbors will be pissed at such a loud disruption so early, but you can’t find it to care all that much.

What matters is Baji is outside your window right now, revving his engine to make you stir.

Your phone buzzes, being the finale of waking you up at such an early hour, and you paw for the device to silence it and eagerly talk to your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you mumble.

“Hey birthday girl,” he says softly, the purr of his engine running in the background. “How’d you sleep?” You mewl softly in response, stretching and letting your newly wakening muscles pop to life. He chuckles, “that good huh?”

“Mmhm,” you agree, pressing the heel of your palm to your eye to wake you up more. “What’re you doing here so early? Lunch isn't for a few hours.”

“I know lunch isn't for a few hours,” he snorts.

You grin, "well, I was worried you might've forgotten how to read clocks again."

"Watch your mouth, missy," he hisses playfully. Then, he sighs dramatically, “I was too excited to see my pretty girlfriend on her birthday, so I was riding around and didn’t know if she wanted to come watch the sunrise with me and get a little breakfast after.”

You smile and tuck your knees to your chest, biting your lip at the thought of him wanting to do something so romantic with you, first thing in the morning. Keisuke’s never been one for massive displays of affection, he’s always done little, meaningful gestures to live rent free in your head, and you always know when he’s involved, it’s going to be beyond special. “Okay,” you hum happily.

“Sunrise is in 45, bring a jacket, it’s cold.”

“Can’t I just steal yours?” You ask.

He groans, making you giggle, “you know you’re a brat, right?”

“It smells like you,” you defend.

“Just come down the stairs, you troublemaker,” he snickers. You laugh, and you smile as neither of you make a move to hang up the phone, simply enjoying being on call with each other and knowing that you’ll listen if you speak. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” you confess.

“Good,” he chuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper.

“Get that pretty ass in gear. We’ve got a sunrise to catch.” With that, he ends the call.

You do as you’re told, swinging your legs out of bed to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, eyes still glossy from adjusting to the wake up process. You peek outside, the sky purpling and starting to water color hues to indicate the earliest of morning sun. You toe on a pair of slippers that you know he’ll scold you for, “gonna have to buy you a new pair, they’ll get ruined, ya need to use that pretty brain once in a while” (he’s never actually minded buying you a thing a day in his life) and you quickly make your way down to him. He looks good, thumb scrolling through his phone and leaning against the bike you've grown so attached to, and long black strands tied back in a pony tail that sways just barely in the wind. You squeal softy in excitement, getting his attention, and the smirk you love so much splays on his face as he pockets his phone and opens his arms for you to run into.

You do, laughing as he catches you and grunts in faux-effort to squeeze you tight, rocking you both back and forth as if you haven't seen each other in days.

It's only been a few hours.

But when he holds you so preciously, it feels like eons.

"Fuck you look so good," he rasps, kissing your head.

You snort, "I literally just rolled out of bed."

"And? Your point?"

You don't say anything, opting instead to reel back and catch his lips in a kiss, mewling as he returns the affection. He tastes like toothpaste and the pomegranate lip balm the guys tease him for, lips soft as they kiss you but tongue teasing as you get lost in each other. His hands find their way to your waist, big thumbs swiping over the tender bones and god, you feel yourself absolutely melting into him.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"I know," you purr.

He pulls back hesitantly, like he's never going to kiss you again and he wants to savor it, sinking his teeth into his lip and looking at the skyline, just a tad lighter from the sun desperate to start emerging. Then, he turns back to you, eyes looking you up and down in a way that has your mind turning into mush. You smile at him and he presses a peck to your lips, "you think the sun'll give me a few extra minutes to kiss you?"

In truth, you want to say screw the sunrise and stay here forever, stuck in this moment with him and just being completely and utterly in love. The sun'll be there forever, it'll be there this afternoon and tomorrow, and the day after that and for years to come.

But there's only one Keisuke Baji. And no kiss with him is like the last, like kissing him is always for the first time and you're drunk in excitement and lost for words and all you want to do is kiss him over and over and over again.

You snicker and let your gaze fall to his lips, swelling subtly from the kiss you shared, and you shrug, "maybe if you threaten it, tough guy."

"For you, baby?" He grins, snatching you up tighter.

"I'll do anything."

[disneyprincemuke]

the situationship * ls2

pairings: logan sargeant x platonic!femdriver

notes: have i used this gif before? i sure hope not

| "wanna hang out?" | driver's parade | american burgers | american football | the thanksgiving incident | another williams adoptee | beating the heat | you’re embarrassing me | santa baby | the favourite driver | the situationship | it's nice to have a friend |

you fist your hands and grit your teeth, legs stiff and feet planted on the ground. "don't cause a scene."

"i'm not causing a scene; you're causing a scene," shawn mutters, somehow avoiding the curious stares and raised eyebrows thrown in your direction. "i told you it's nothing. it was supposed to be friendly."

"yes, because friends embrace one another and are caught making out in the open field at coachella!" your voice raises slightly. you catch yourself slipping and quickly bring your tone back into a whisper. you jab a finger into his chest. "i'm done with you. this is the last time you make a fool of me."

"don't be dramatic."

you narrow your eyes into a glare. "dramat– you were hanging out with camila! you clearly thought it was something to not want to tell me what you did that weekend."

"because i knew you'd get mad! like you are right now."

you clench your jaw before logan catches your frustrated stare from a distance. he tilts his head curiously at you and approaches you with a raised eyebrow. "delete my number, shawn. this isn't the first time we're talking about this."

he rolls his eyes. "calm down and let's go to your room to talk this out," he sighs exasperatedly, in a way that pissed you off even more, and reaches out to grab your arm.

the nerve to be the one that's getting tired of the argument. he is so lucky that you're in the lounge, else you'd have swung your arm back already.

"no," you move your arm out of the trajectory of his grasp, "i'm serious this time. leave me alone."

"you're literally acting insane. she's my ex."

"whatever, dude," logan sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically as he approaches you. he slings an arm over your shoulder and shoots shawn a bored stare. "we have better things to prepare for; she," he pats your shoulder, "has more important matters to attend to."

shawn raises an eyebrow. he's never exactly seen eye to eye with logan, initially claiming that your weird enthusiasm to keep a friendship with a 'nobody' will lead you to nowhere. he's never been one to shy away from making it known.

"she's not going to pick you."

"i could say the same for you," logan mutters with a slight scowl on his face, looking the canadian up and down. "who knows what she was thinking giving your lanky ass a chance."

he turns around, leading you with him through the crowded lounge. "let's go – we have qualis to worry about."

logan cranes his neck back to shoot shawn one last stare, as if to intimidate the older boy. he walks ahead, arm still around you protectively, and glances down at you. "i heard from george. are you okay?"

you tilt your head as he leads you through the crowd. looking back, you don't feel as infuriated as you would have if it happened months ago. it's almost like you'd seen it coming, really.

you shrug. "yeah, i'm alright." you pat his back with a small smile, "thanks for whisking me away. i would have actually gone back to my room to talk if it weren't for you."

he beams proudly and puffs his chest, nodding to reassure that his meddling was a good thing. "you know you can do better than shawn fucking mendes."

it's not like everyone around you hasn't tried saying that to you. but shawn had this way of reeling you in everytime, even though you keep swearing that the last time would be the last.

a hand tears logan's arm off of you, replaced with another with a hush giggle. you turn and are greeted by alex's grin, george appearing at your other side with a smirk.

"i saw shawn leaving the paddocks," alex starts, holding a hand over his mouth, "could it be what i think it is?"

the 4 of you halt outside the mercedes racing home, and logan nods proudly, folding his arms over his chest. "yes. she asked him to fuck off."

you scrunch your nose, "i don't quite remember saying that."

"me neither," george sighs softly, momentarily dropping his grin and immediately plasters it on his face. "you're really done with him?"

"you better be," alex scolds, eyebrows furrowed at you, a look of disgust flashing on his face. "first of all, he's musty."

george nods at his best friend's statement and takes a step back. "and he can't even sing."

you blink blankly at them, unsure if that's supposed to make you feel better. admittedly, your heart feels a little heavy. the situation may have been complicated and frustrating for the longest time, but you can always admit that you had feelings for shawn.

"he's not even that tall," alex adds, though you can tell he's just saying whatever to make you feel better.

"he literally can't sing," george repeats, blinking rapidly at you.

finally, the 2 older men turn to the rookie. "it's your turn," alex whispers, leaning towards logan slightly and gestures towards you. logan blinks in confusion at him. "say something bad about shawn that would make her feel better."

logan shifts his gaze over to you and shrugs. personally, he feels like he's never had anything nice to say about the singer. so he opts with the obvious, "i'm going to tell yuki that he can finally ask you out."

george claps. "genius!"

"stop!"

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART TWELVE)

I had to work late one day, and I came home to find Braden playing video games with the older boys, while the twins were crawling around in the family room. Brade was hunky as hell in his favorite faded T-shirt from the local NFL team and his PT shorts, furry legs stretched out barefoot as he got into trying to beat Keith. What made him more alluring was his natural, easy fatherhood. He was SO good with the boys, nurturing and a masculine role model for them. I had to consider myself the luckiest father in the world and was thankful I was a family man.

My son-husband paused the game then looked up at me. His face silently communicating something was serious. "Hi Dad... You should go check on Bill."

"Oh," I said. I was going to ask if it was serious, but I realized Braden didn't want to bring it up around the boys.

I made my way through our mansion to where Junior's room was. A guess flashed through my mind. Since that first magical date night, I'd pulled back some from Junior. Not emotionally, but we'd had less one-on-one time the week and a half since. I thought Junior knew why: his Daddy and I was trying for another pregnancy, and I'd focused my sexual energy there. I'd given Junior a couple of quick blowjobs before he went off to school, and I'd rimmed him a couple of times while he jerked off. But that was it.

The door wasn't completely closed now, but it was mostly shut. I gave a knock. "Can I come in, buddy?"

"Yeah, Dad," came the defeated reply.

Junior was still in his knit shit and golf shorts from practice, his favorite cap pulled down where the brim rested above the eyes. He was a good way into his senior year, and Junior already was rocking an impressive college-jock build. In other circumstances I'd be joining him in bed, making out with my special dude. But something was wrong, I could see a lot of worry in his eyes.

Instinctively, I shut the door. "What's wrong, kiddo?" I asked.

"I fucked it up, Dad," Junior said. "Just as we were getting close, I fucked it up."

I came and sat on the bed, placing my hand on Junior's strong leg where the soft hairs were starting to come in. "Why don't we start at the beginning?" I asked.

He nodded, and I could tell he was holding back tears. Maybe he'd been crying all afternoon. "I've been using protection, honest. But I guess the condom broke..." He paused. "Well, I know the condom broke. I didn't think it would be a big deal. But Mr. Carson called today, and he's pregnant, and I don't what to fucking do..."

"Tim Carson?" I asked. "Alex's Dad?" Alex was Junior's teammate and good friend. I tried not to sound judgmental, but I was just genuinely surprised to the point I thought maybe there was another Mr. Carson.

Junior nodded, emotion heavy. "It's messed up. Alex is weirded out, and Mr. Carson's upset. You can ground me, Dad... I've just been worried you'll break up with me."

I patted his leg, and began caressing the short hairs more affectionately. "I'm not breaking up with you, Junior," I assured him. "But you gotta man up and be there for Mr. Carson. And your son. Doesn't matter how awkward things are."

"I know, Dad. And I will." His voice got quiet. "I've been dreaming of being a Dad, but fuck, I didn't expect it to be like this. So soon, you know."

"I know, kiddo," I said. I figured this was the good time to tell Junior. "You know... when I fathered your Daddy... that was an unplanned pregnancy."

"For real?" Junior asked. I was surprised he hadn't put two and two together, doing the math between my and Braden's age. But my husband and I made sure that our boys saw loving parents, so maybe it just didn't occur to him.

"I was even younger. 16 and a dumb teen dad," I said self-deprecatingly. "But Braden turned out to be the best thing in my life... even better because he gave me five amazing sons, who were planned."

"Dad..." Junior's voice was getting heavy.

"I won't lie, kiddo, raising a kid is hard work."

"I know, Dad. I'm ready."

I patted his leg again. "Attaboy." Everything about Junior then was making me fall for him, as completely as I had Braden at that age. "So," I winked, trying to provide some levity. "Just one broken condom and your swimmers got it done, huh?"

It was a relief to see Junior's smile. "Guess so."

"You know..." I continued, running my fingers up Junior's leg, beneath the hem of his shorts. "If you were a true Drake man, you'd get a boner just thinking about the fact you knocked a guy up."

I could see the gears turn in Junior's head. The realization and the surprise that I was giving him permission to feel sexual right now. Permission to embrace the turn on maybe he didn't know was there.

I watched Junior get stiff in his shorts. For our time exploring each other the last month, I'd only watched his hardon form once from start to full erection. I was watching it now and it was beautiful. Especially because Junior's eyes went from his crotch to my face and back.

"I guess I'm a Drake man, all right," he hissed in lust.

"Fuck yeah, you are buddy," I growled and leaned in to kiss him.

This felt different than before. Not only had Junior upped his kissing game, copying the technique I'd coached him on over date night, but we were peers in a strange way. Fellow dads.

His hands were on my feeling my dress shirt beneath my suit as we got into it.

"God I love you, Dad. So fucking much," Junior hissed as I removed my shoes and got up onto bed with him. "I've just been worried sick you'd break things off."

"I know, Junior," I said, running my hand along his built chest. "Listen, I gotta be the dad sometimes," I said. "But you're a man on your own right now. And I care for you like crazy."

He had an adorable checked smile on his face. "I just knew you'd be mad at me."

"You gonna give me a reason to be?" I arched my eyebrow.

"No, sir," Junior laughed.

I gave an appreciative nod. I leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Maybe I can taste that breeding cock of your son."

"God yes," he answered in a croak and was already fiddling with his shorts. Maybe one of these days we'd get a more equal dynamic for who would initiate sex and when, but for now Junior deferred to when and how I'd fit in our own private time within my marriage to Braden.

This was fun, and I realized how excited I was that Junior had knocked up a guy. Rationally I knew it wasn't the right thing. Or at least it had happened too soon. But as I got closer to my son's hard prick I gripped it in my fingers and said lewdly. "You got a hardon when you heard Tim Carson was pregnant, Son?"

He shook his head. "Was too freaked actually," he said.

I looked up at him. "I know how you felt, son," remembering that conversation. "But now... I get huge boners when I knock your Daddy up."

"Fuck," Junior hissed. He loved that idea.

I licked his balls, tickling the orbs with my tongue. "Got powerful sperm in here."

"I do, Dad," Junior finally getting on my wavelength. "I fucking put a kid into Mr. Carson." I could sense his eyes on me, reading me in case he went too far.

"A son," I added, then licked to where his balls met his shaft. "You're gonna give me a fucking great-grandson."

"OH FUUUCK!" he hissed. At the idea but also because my tongue was tracing up his hard shaft.

"Fucking teen dad," I grunted. "You gotta a lot more before you can catch up with me."

"Course, Dad. Six sons is a lot."

I looked him dead in the eye. Junior was so frickin' sexy just then. "Especially cause I'm not stopping anytime soon."

"OH FUCK!" I knew how turned on Junior was getting because he was at a loss for words.

I didn't need the sex talk anyway. I leaned forward and began taking my son's dick in my mouth. The dick that had fucked Tim Carson and made a kid. A new life. I didn't need Braden's oral technique then, Junior was ready to blast pretty quick. He gripped my head and pumped some into my mouth as his dick spurted its seed. Maybe it was all in my head, but I imagined that his cum tasted different, more manly.

"Thank you," he hissed. Then, "Can I...?"

I shook my head and swallowed the rest of his cum. "I'll let your Daddy take care of that," I said. I slid out of bed and stood up, arranging the hardon in my trousers. "You tell him the news?"

Junior nodded yes. I could tell he'd dreaded telling me in a way he hadn't with Braden.

"Well, tomorrow, or the next day, see if you can bring Tim around the house," I suggested. "I want you to take responsibility, Junior, but maybe your Daddy and I can clear the air some."

"Sure, Dad. And thanks for understanding."

I leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "It's gonna change your life, Junior, in some not good ways as well as the amazing ones. But you got this, kiddo... I know you do.... and well, me and your Daddy have your back, OK?"

We let Junior have his space that evening, the rest of the family having dinner without him. I thought of checking with him before bed, but I knew he was OK, he just needed time to think and reflect. I think he valued that alone time just as much as me.

Later, when Braden and I got ready for bed, we knew we were gonna fuck. A hard fuck, going at it verbally. Talking about Junior's cock and sperm. Talking about our son becoming a father. It was an intense, simultaneous orgasm, and afterward, Braden and I held each other's sweaty naked bodies and had a serious conversation about expectations and how we could help Junior out.

***

Tim Carson was cordial when he came over the next day. It was small talk and introduction. I mean I knew him some from the team fundraiser and from the times I'd dropped Junior off for sleepovers a couple of years ago. Maybe it was one of those times, I wondered when was Junior first...

Now wasn't the time for recriminations. Tim felt nervous as hell to be there, even after Braden went to look after the twins, leaving just him, me and Junior in my study.

"This is awkward," the man said at last. Junior had good taste, I'll give him that. Mr. Carson was well preserved for a man in his 50s, fit, what I'd call a DILF. Like Doug Newcomb, only more normal looking, less movie star handsome. The man was a corporate lawyer, married with two kids. And his life had been turned upside down.

"Don't feel so on my account," I said.

He nodded, grateful. He looked over at Junior then at me. "You guys are going to think I'm crazy, but I wanna have this kid."

"It's not crazy at all, Mr. Carson," Junior said with a strange self-confidence.

He gave a gentle shrug. "Knowing I have this life inside my body, growing inside of me... it just feels meant to be."

"How far are you along?" I asked.

"Over three months," Tim answered. "I didn't know what was going on at first."

I did the math. This was before Junior and I first had sex, probably before I grounded him, but not much more. "How are you holding up?"

"Health-wise? Emotionally?..."

"Either."

"Health is good. I'm just dealing with my family." His voice got quiet. "Kelly always wanted another kid. She's not forgiving me, but I guess taking this as that chance, you know...?"

"I want to speak for Bill Jr here... he's going to be there however you need."

I saw a flash of worry on his face and maybe some real emotional conflict. He looked over at Junior, then back to me. "I'm going to raise him... Kelly and I are going to raise the kid as a Carson, Bill. I don't expect anything from Bill Jr. But maybe he could be the godfather."

"I'd be honored, Mr. Carson," Junior piped in.

I finally let them have a private conversation, getting up to go join Braden and our other sons in the family den. But before I did, I held out my hand to shake Tim Carson's. "I know my great-grandson will be a Carson, but I just want to let you know, Tim, that I consider you family."

"Thanks for understanding, Bill," Tim said. Up close, I could see what Junior saw in the man. The not classically handsome face had a way of growing on you. "And thanks for not stringing my balls up," he laughed.

I turned to Junior. "I'll be in the den if you need me for anything, son, OK?"

Junior smiled. Relieved and maybe surprised this whole conversation had gone better than he expected.

***

I did go check on Junior before bedtime. He was doing homework but was shirtless and just in some gym shorts in his room. "I take it Tim left," I said, as I knocked on the door.

"Just about a half hour ago," Junior said with a proud smirk. Then, "Sorry... I guess we never clarified House Rule Number 7," he said, referencing the idea of exclusivity.

"There's no House Rule 7, Junior," I said. He was at his desk, and I sat down on his bed. God, Brade was right. The kid was so much like me. Led around by his dick, but maybe not wanting to be like that. "Celebration sex is pretty powerful, isn't it?" I said. Bonding with my boy experiencing his first time with fatherhood.

That made Junior smile big. "I'll say, Dad. I know we talked about this, but bareback fucking is pretty damn incredible."

I laughed. "First time, raw?" I confirmed, making sure Junior had been truthful to me before.

He nodded. "Oh yeah. Other than the broken rubber time, but that didn't really count."

It was time for me to switch from wingman/buddy mode to parent mode. "You know, Mr. Carson has a family. A wife and kids."

He got more serious. "I know, Dad. We talked a lot. But Mr. Carson wanted it. I did too. At least one last time."

I felt for him... I think he felt this strange emotional side of becoming a father. This need to bond with the man he'd impregnated. I got up and reached over to pat his shoulder. In other circumstance, and if Junior hadn't just gotten laid, I might have initiated something. He was just so handsome and youthful and... dad-like. My second son, now a father himself.

"Maybe next date night we can just have a nice long conversation about being a father."

Junior seemed to take that in. "Sounds great, Dad... only no sex?"

"Horndog," I teased.

"I'm a Drake," Junior teased back.

I ran my fingers down his arm. I was getting a little turned on. "That you are, buddy." I leaned in some. There was just this bond Junior and I had at this moment. Fellow breeders. Junior following in my footsteps. Maybe this isn't the way it should have happened, but with sex and pregnancy it doesn't always play out like you want or expect.

"So... kiddo..." I said with a naughty look on my face. "I'm gonna go fuck your Daddy. See if I can make a son, too."

Junior's eyes grew excited. He may have just gotten his rocks off but he was clearly showing some lust at the idea. "Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah, stud. Wanna come watch tonight?"

"God, Dad, I'd love that."

Junior had joined in my and Brade's marriage bed a few times, but the action had been all oral. He'd never seen his parents fuck.

"Give it a half hour," I said. "Then come join us."

Braden was already getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth in the master bathroom as I stepped in, a big smirk on my face.

"What?" Brade laughed, spitting out the toothpaste. Then rinsing it out, it occurred him. "Oh fuck... Junior's joining us tonight?"

"If you're up for it, Son," I said, stepping behind him and gently gripping his strong shoulders to massage them as I look into his eyes in the mirror. "I want Junior to watch me breed you," I said.

"God," Braden said. And now I was able to see him throw hard in his shorts. I leaned in and kiss the side of his neck.

"I can't believe our son's a father now," I said softly.

"I know, Dad," Braden replied. "I've been thinking about that all day."

"Does it turn you on?" I asked. So far, other than a bout of sex talk during fucking, me and Brade's conversation had been about the practicality of Junior's paternity news and how we should respond as parents.

"Like crazy, Dad. I tolda ya he's gonna be like you."

We took our time getting naked and into bed. My son-husband and I were slow making out at first, enjoying the physical connection and the conversation.

"I'm so glad you were open to incest, Dad... way back when."

"I'm glad you got me to listen to my cock. Best decision I ever made."

We kissed more deeply.

A gentle knock came, but Junior went ahead and opened the door to slip on. I could tell he was hard in his shorts, but those didn't stay on long anyway. As he slid them off to show his large teen boner, he said softly. "Hey Dads."

I hadn't told Braden about Junior fucking Tim Carson earlier, but it didn't really matter. I was just amused he was recharged again, already.

"Hey Bill," Braden said, scooting to the side to give our son some space in the king sized bed. "It might be less foreplay tonight," he added.

"I don't care, Daddy," Junior said as he climbed over the base of the bed and onto the mattress between us. "I'm just so glad to be with you guys."

Braden kissed him first, then I pulled Junior toward me. By now, we were all getting the threesome dynamic, enjoying the multiple incestuous connections and relishing the feel of our naked bodies and hard cocks in various combinations.

At one point, I was getting overheated. I pulled back from a kiss with Junior, feeling up his bare chest openly in front of Braden. "You ready to watch, kiddo?"

Junior just grinned and nodded excitedly.

I crawled over his naked body and over to meet Braden in a heated kiss. Making out with my husband with our son watching gave a new thrill to sex with him. My Brade was now almost 40 and muscular and thick. And I was going to impregnate him again.

"You take your pill today, Son?" I asked as I pulled back. My body on top of his, hard cock humping Brade's.

He nodded. "Yeah, Dad. I'll take another, too."

I shook my head. "Doc says one a day."

Braden wasn't listening to me. Already he was reaching over to the foil packet on the nightstand.

"Fuck," I hissed. My dad cock was thinking for me now.

"Are those the fertility pills?" Junior asked. Excited.

I nodded, looking at my boyfriend. "When men get a little older, nature can use a little boost."

"Hot," Junior said. Then feeling out the more open sex talk he and I had been working, son asked, "Are those gonna make Daddy's womb extra fertile."

"I sure hope so," Braden said, popping the pill in his mouth and taking a sip of water from the glass before setting it down on the night stand. "I wanna get totally fucking pregnant tonight."

I ran my hands along Braden's hard abs, feeling the fur and looking back and forth between his amazing body and Junior. "I can't wait to knock up your daddy again."

"Yes," Junior hissed. He got on his knees and came closer to watch.

"Want to see us make you another brother, Bill?" Braden asked.

"God, Daddy..." Junior was getting excited as hell. "I've imagined you doing this SO much."

"Get the lube, kiddo," I growled. "I want you to get my cock ready to impregnate your Daddy."

"Yessir!"

As he reached over to the night table, I kissed Braden deeply. I didn't have to ask. My husband was wildly turned on. In heat.

"That pill kicking in, babe?" I asked in a soft growl.

"Dropping that egg for you now, Dad. All for you."

I leaned up. "For this cock."

"Hot fucking Dad cock," Brade grunted, reaching up to lovingly hold and stroke it.

"Guys!" Junior hissed, his own prick jerking as he scooted back in the bed. "So fucking hot!"

I gestured down at my own dick. "Slick me up, buddy... not too much... there... Nice!"

I kissed Junior, hard. Braden watched us make out, watched Junior almost whimper he was so worked up.

It took willpower to pull back, but I needed inside Brade, bad. I kicked apart his legs. Partly for show, I guess, playing it up for Junior. Braden knew and he smiled as he watched me get into the saddle, pushing down my rigid cock into place.

There's nothing like that first time, of me taking Braden's cherry. Or the night we made Junior, our first impregnation. But this was pretty damn close. At least having our son's eyes on the connection point between my bare dick and his daddy's receptive hole made this fuck feel special and new.

Junior watched me penetrate his other parent.

His hands were on me, rubbing my back, wanting to get close to me and to Brade in this primal sexual act. I loved that, but I also directed my attention to Braden. Modeling how husbands mate, with love but also sexual intensity.

"I love you, Brade..." I hissed, loud enough where Junior could hear.

"Love you, too, Dad."

I pushed in deeper. My cock inside my first born. While my second born witnessed it.

"Aw, that's it, Dad. Fuck me." Brade was wrapping his legs around me.

I turned to Junior. "Junior... can you put a pillow under Daddy's hips? It'll be a better angle."

"Yeah, Dad."

Braden chuckled. Then I powered into his body fully.

"Oh fuck yes, Brade," I hissed. "I love fucking you."

Junior's hands were back on me, his close presence turning me on. And I could see Braden watch us both as I fucked a little faster.

"Ready for son number seven, Son?" I asked.

"God yeah... I need you to impregnate me again. Fill me up with your sperm."

I put more power to my thrusts. No longer exactly showing off for Junior, this was me just getting into the breed-mating with his Daddy. "You all fertile for me, stud?"

He nodded in deep lust. "SO fucking fertile, Dad. Ready for that son you're gonna plant in there. However many sons you want."

"Shit!" I gasped. Junior was witnessing and hearing me and Brade go deep, for sure. "Give Junior here another little brother, maybe two."

"Maybe three."

"Damn. Show my boyfriend how we made him."

"Shit, Dad!" That was Junior's exclamation.

I didn't take my eyes of Brade, but as I fucked harder I spoke to Junior. "Yeah, kiddo. This is how we made you. I fucked your daddy nonstop till it took."

"Then we fucked some more, Dad," Braden hissed. His dick was jerking on his abs in excitement, quivering with each jab to his prostate.

"To celebrate," I added.

"Fuck yeah," Junior said. "I wish I could have watched. Wish I could have watched you fuck me into existence, Dad."

I don't know why that was the trigger, but Junior's words brought on my orgasm quick. I pounded in and leaned forward to kiss Brade as I seeded him full. As I ejaculated good and hard inside my husband, Junior's hands were on my sweaty back, sensually caressing me.

I gave Brade a deep romantic kiss as I came down from the high. We didn't have to say anything. We both intuited that there was a good chance that I'd just conceived our next son.

I gingerly retreated and once I broke free of Braden's ass, I used my thumb to push the excess sperm back into his hole.

Still breathing heavy, I turned to Junior. "If you wanna get one of your condoms, kiddo..." I offered.

"For real?" he asked. His dick was hard and jerking and on his smoother body it seemed to stand out more than my similarly sized cock did from mine. He looked at Braden, who nodded.

"That'd be fucking hot, Bill," my husband said.

We laughed as we watched Junior bound out of bed and slip on his shorts before slipping back out of the room.

I lay next to Brade and ran my hand along his sweaty chest. "You OK with the idea, Son?"

Brade smiled and nodded. "Junior's a stud, Dad. I didn't think the night could get more special and yet..."

"It's like experiencing it through new eyes," I said.

"Yeah."

Junior came back with two foil packets. He set them down on the nightstand and shucked his shorts down again. "You sure, Dad? Daddy?"

"That's a beautiful piece of son cock, Bill," Braden said, scooting over to taking Junior into his mouth.

"OH FUCK" Junior hissed, eyes on his daddy then up at me. "I didn't think you guys would go for this."

"You might want to get in him before he changes his mind," I joked.

Junior laughed and pulled back, leaning in to kiss Braden before he picked up a condom and ripped the wrapper with his teeth.

"This one better not break," I admonished him.

"No sir," Junior said, rolling down the sheath over his hard teen jock dick.

Meanwhile, Braden was pumping some lube on his fingers then applying the extra lubrication to his seeded hole. It had been a long time since I'd warn a rubber, but when we played with the Newcombs or the Connors, then Brade would often be a bottom to one of the dads.

It was my turn to watch what skills my stud 18-year-old son had. He was nervous fucking his Daddy but it was also clear he'd topped men before. Maybe a lot.

He fingered Braden's hole, reading my husband's reactions before pushing his dick into place. He quickly realized Brade was all loosened up from my fuck, so he pushed in.

"Oh God!" Brade hissed.

"Feel good, Daddy?" Junior asked, sensually as his hips pushed in then slowly swiveled for a slow pump.

"God, yeah, Bill. My own fucking son."

Junior was getting REAL into this now. "Your own son's fucking you, Dad."

"Oh fuck yes."

I didn't feel jealous watching this. Just the opposite, I was thrilled to see Junior make Braden so happy, so turned on. My husband began jerking his dick in time with each of our son's thrusts.

I gathered Junior was feeling the internal clenching. "Your ass feels so fucking tight, Daddy.. even after Dad fucked you."

"Push his seed deeper into me, son. AW, that's it... A little faster... Not too hard...."

Junior was getting into this fuck and it was magnificent to watch. My two sons, having sex. Fucking. It was just beautiful and hot. My cock was fully hard again. I reached out to touch Junior's back like he had mine.

"Oh shit," he hissed, hips jerking faster. I could tell our son was getting close,

Still, Braden beat him to the finish line. Hot white cum spurted out onto his meaty chest and ripped abs.

Almost a second after that I saw Junior's head go back and his eyes shut and his face flush red. "YES!" He wasn't an overly loud cummer. I enjoyed watching his O face. Different than Braden's. All Junior.

He had a big smile on his face as he relished the postcoital glow. Brade had a pretty big one, too. Then reaching down to hold the base of the rubber, Junior slowly extracted himself. There was a huge wad of cum pooled in the tip.

"Can I taste that, Bill?"

Junior nodded. "Yeah, Dad. I'd love that." He peeled off the condom and carefully brought it up to Braden's lips, turning out the contents.

"Fuck!" he hissed as he watched Brade slurp it all into his mouth, then swallow.

We let Braden shower off first. Junior and I embraced in the now damp sheets. Kissing softly.

"Thanks, Dad. That was the hottest thing."

"Pretty hot for us, too, Junior." I patted his bare ass as I held him close. "It's nice that we can trust you with this." I paused.

"Absolutely, Dad."

We kissed again, then it was my turn. I didn't know if Junior would be sleeping in our bed that night. It felt appropriate, and yet it didn't.

Turns out he made that decision for us. I walked back in to see only Braden in the bed. "Bill went to sleep in his own room."

"Probably for the best," I said.

Braden nodded. But as I got into bed, my husband pulled me close. "Thank you for that, Dad. You know I've been wanting that to happen."

I did and yet maybe I didn't know how much Brade had wanted it until then. We kissed some more.

I was happy and very sexually satisfied. Still, something nagged at me.

"I remember when you told me that Junior was gonna be trouble," I said softly,

Braden leaned up on his arm, looking at me. "Yeah?"

"I'm starting to see it."

***

I was in Doctor Fiedler's waiting room with Brade, when I got a call. Normally I'd ignore it unless it was an urgent work call. But it had been a while since I'd talked to Doug Newcomb.

I excused myself and stepped out in the hall. "Hey Newcomb, what's up?"

"I got some news, buddy..." he beamed. "As you know, Eric's graduating in May, and we've been talking, and we'd love to move out to your neighborhood."

"For real?" The news made me happy, happier than I would have thought, because I never expected this to happen.

"For real, Drake. We can talk details later, if you got a spare lot in your little subdivision."

"Incest Acres," I said quietly in to the phone. "We got a lot of spare lots."

"Incest Acres, buddy. Here we come. "

"So... what made you guys decide on that?"

I could almost hear the beaming smile on the other end. "Eric... well, you Drake men are inspiration, cause he wants to start a family with me."

"Shit." I loved hearing about incest procreation, and hearing it from the Newcombs was extra special.

"Yeah, I know right?" he chuckled. "We might not have the brood you do, but Eric wants a son bad. Turns out, I want to have one with him, too."

"It's the best, Newcomb. You'll see."

"What about you and Braden. Any news?" Doug new that we were trying for another pregnancy.

"At the doctor's office now, buddy. Waiting for the results."

"Oh shit. I'll let you go, man. Keep me updated."

"Will do... And Doug.. I'm super thrilled for you guys."

"Thanks, we are too. Talk later..."

I stepped back into the waiting room just as they were calling out Braden's name. I walked back to Fiedler's office with him.

Todd was all smiles as he ushered us in and shut the door.

"Well, gentlemen," he said with a playful smile. "I hope you're ready for triplets."

[moistvonlipwig]

🔥do you have any more for the cw's supergirl bc the last one was so so so so funny and real and true

thank youuu i had to think about this one though bc to be honest i saw this ask and the entirety of cw supergirl disappeared from my brain. but now i have remembered things to be salty about. looping in @yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere who also asked. anyway this one is not quite so funny unforchy, it's more morbid as hell?? but um i think the way the show/the superfriends handled the aftermath of crisis is genuinely really disturbing.

@sideguitars and i have talked a lot about this and i touched on it in my fic which everyone should go readies right now :3 but basically. the result of crisis is that everyone in the arrowverse (except a select few people - barry, kara, kate kane, the legends of tomorrow lady i legitimately forgot her name, j'onn, lex, ryan choi, technically the wellses who are stored instead nash (?), jennifer pierce, & lastly lena due to lex's deal with the monitor) dies. and when the world is "reset" j'onn flies around restoring a lot of the main characters' memories but not all of them. in practice, all the shows treat this less like our beloved characters have literally died and been replaced and their replacements have 'our' versions' memories in their heads as well, and much more like restoring memories effectively brings our dead versions back to life. let us proceed with the assumption that this is more or less what is happening, because that is how the shows act.

now there are 2 ways to read the morality of this action of restoring memories, which notably happens multiple times without consent from the person involved. #1 is that the new versions of these characters are people in their own right and deserve to live. through this reading, restoring 'our' versions is a violation of these people, tantamount to murder; it is overwriting their inconvenient experiences with the experiences of people our characters like better. there is no material difference, in this reading, between what j'onn does to the people whose memories he restores and what lena does to eve in s5 when she puts hope in her brain. through this reading, the superfriends are pure villains. you could imagine a superhero movie with this very plot, in fact: a sympathetic supervillain from another universe that got erased trying to replace people from this universe with people from their own.

#2 is that our versions of these characters, for whatever reason, deserve to live more than the new versions (or versions from any other earths). through this reading, it is justifiable to restore people's memories without consent, but anyone who is not restored is effectively being allowed to die, an act of criminal negligence by a band of so-called superheroes. the limits of who gets chosen to have their memories returned then become morbidly fascinating. on supergirl -- which is the only show that crisis really affects at all, frankly (besides arrow i guess but who gives a fuck), so it's kind of the only one where any of this matters -- we know for a fact that j'onn restores alex, nia, brainy, kelly, and clark and probably lois and maybe m'gann also i forget tbh. i think it is reasonable to assume he also restored james. i certainly hope he did! but we know he did not restore, say, cat grant, or andrea rojas, or william dey, or other people outside their immediate circle.

which raises questions like: why kelly? because she is alex's girlfriend of a few months? because she is james's sister? well, what about mama olsen? did they restore her memories? surely not remembering lex luthor torturing her son would change her significantly. what about alex's fake latina ex-girlfriend, maggie sawyer? does she not get her memories back, on account of being merely the ex, not the current girlfriend of supergirl's sister? and so on.

but of course the biggest crime by far is that the superfriends do not know that lex made a deal with the monitor for lena's survival and they believe she perished. and they do nothing to bring her memories back. this is despite the fact that she is unquestionably the number one person affected by the change to the universe. please consider that the biggest change to earth-prime from earth-38 is that lex luthor now never went evil, is friends with the supers, and is still in charge of luthorcorp. obviously this has a trickle-down effect on many people's lives, but i would think it obvious that the person most impacted is his little sister who he abused and manipulated for her entire life (per s4), who was left to deal with the fallout of his going evil and, oh yeah, who recently had to kill him. and now suddenly he is back in her life and has power over her and he remembers every way that she (rightfully) betrayed him. in fact i think it is not at all a stretch to say that lex's primary motivation in how he set up earth-prime was gaining more control over lena (which is why it's interesting and speaks to a lingering ember of humanity and love in lex that he lets her keep her memories at all).

and for some reason none of the superfriends are like. hey maybe lena, our former friend whose last action before her (apparent) death was helping to save three billion people at the superfriends' behest, deserves to live and know the full truth of who her brother is and what their relationship has been. alex even tries to argue that kara shouldn't tell lena about any of their history at all because then lena might be mad at kara for all the lying and that would, you know, suck for kara personally. which, like, i guess kara wanting to tell lena the truth is a step up from that load of horseshit, but again, none of you considered restoring her memories? you're just going to let her stay dead? after alex, j'onn, and kara all agreed in 5x08 that lena was not a lost cause and could still be saved? lmao. okay.

and then once they realize lena has her memories we again have the issue of like. why is it that alex and kara get to have THEIR support systems restored but lena doesn't? again. lena is the one whose life has been MOST overturned by crisis. she is the one currently under her abuser's thumb -- her abuser who is the only one who apparently bothered to consider saving her life, and who is the only non-superfriend she knows who also remembers their previous earth. which, keeping in mind that as far as she knows all the superfriends were down to kill her in 5x08 with a nuclear fucking missile, means that she has literally nowhere safe to go.

like. one of her best and most supportive friends was sam arias. and to be fair s5 seems dead set on pretending sam never existed with the exception of 5x13. but if she wanted to go to sam, it wouldn't be the same sam with knowledge of earth-38. andrea, also, isn't the same andrea. they make it a point to show us she has a different backstory. even lillian isn't the same lillian, and, i mean, lillian was indeed abusive to lena, but earth-38 lillian was more on her side than earth-prime lillian is. lena has literally no one. she has her abusive brother and her former friends who lied to her for years and tried to kill her (as far as she knows) and that's it. but alex gets her girlfriend of a few months back. and kara gets her cousin back. because what kara and alex want matters, and what lena needs does not matter. and then the superfriends are all Shocked and Appalled that lena goes back to lex. which like. i don't love that as a story beat either, but i put it to you: where the fuck else was she supposed to go?

anyway i could rant about this all day long lol but basically it points to how profoundly unconcerned the superfriends were with lena's status as lex's first and primary victim, which really undermines their later claims that they're lena's new and better family. and it also points to how little the show itself cared about the psychology of abuse victims (particularly female ones) that this was never factored into how they wrote the reconciliation between lena & the superfriends. and more broadly the whole thing suggests a frankly eerie self-centeredness on the part of the superfriends that makes all their moral posturing seem hollow. no matter which way you read the morality of restoring people's memories post-crisis, the superfriends (mostly kara, j'onn, and alex tbf) acted callously, selfishly, and without care for the very people they were supposed to protect. and, as always, lena luthor suffered for it.

[incorrect-green-lantern-quotes]

Ooh this is a tricky one!

Everything in canon seems to indicate that the Orange Lantern's light is all-consuming. Lex Luthor completely succumbs to it when he briefly wields an orange ring during Blackest Night, and Kyle too loses control of himself when he charges his ring off of Larfleeze's battery while mastering the full spectrum (he only snaps out of it bc Carol shows him a vision of Alex).

Green Lantern: New Guardians issue #15

Larfleeze himself appears to have no control over his own impulses, as he's constantly pursuing whatever shiny new thing catches his attention, and he's the undisputed master of the orange light who's wielded it for thousands, if not millions of years. Yet it's because of this that he is able to provide some insight into how Avarice functions.

Aside from Larfleeze, Luthor, and Kyle, there's only one other person we've ever seen wield an orange ring, during the War of the Green Lanterns storyline. Hal wears Larfleeze's ring for a brief time, and is actually able to use it without losing his sense of purpose, likely thanks to Ganthet's advice.

War of the Green Lanterns

What exactly Hal focuses on to be able to control Orange rather than being controlled by it isn't shown- the comic is too busy showing Guy using Red and Violet to crack open the Central Battery. But both Larfleeze and Ganthet say pretty much the same thing: to use the orange ring without losing yourself, you need to embrace it completely. And for Avarice, that means actually wanting it, twisted as that may seem.

I think it's important to note that Avarice is the opposite counterpart to Compassion in the Emotional Spectrum. Indigo light brainwashes its wielder by overloading them with empathy to the point that their sense of self is reduced to nothing. Conversely, Orange does the opposite in cranking up the wielder's desires until nothing and no one else matters.

Without their rings, Iroque is a raving murderer while Larfleeze is terrified of the orange ring. But as soon as the rings settle back onto their fingers, they return to their usual selves.

One could very well argue that Larfleeze himself isn't really the most suited to wield the Orange Lantern, and he's only able to do so because of the nature of Avarice being such that it totally overrides even the most unwilling hosts.

But on the other hand, if we consider Indigo to be the opposite of Orange, it would be remiss to ignore how Iroque learned to feel compassion even without her ring forcing her to do so.

Green Lantern (2011) issue #10

Just as Indigo redeems, Orange corrupts. I suspect this is why Kyle's Avarice self looks uniquely monstrous in a way that none of the others do.

Green Lantern: New Guardians issue #16

What was the point I was trying to make?

Right, can there ever be an Orange Lantern who uses their power for good? Despite everything I've said, I do think it's possible. Just very, very unlikely.

For starters, it would have to be someone who's willing to embrace their selfish desires, and for those desires to be aligned toward what we would consider good. For example, imagine someone who wants to achieve fame and glory through ending violence and bringing about peace, and is not at all shy about letting this goal be known. I think such a person would be able to use an orange ring pretty well while maintaining their sense of self, because that self is so tied to their ambitions.

But even then, there's always the danger of their greed growing out of control and leading them astray. I think there's a reason why Kyle rarely uses Orange even after becoming the White Lantern.

Hey is there any way to do a sympathetic or even good-aligned Orange Lantern? We’ve had sympathetic/good red lanterns, yellow lanterns, star sapphires…I feel like orange is next, but how can avarice/greed be good? Maybe a character with a god complex is so bad it wraps back around from being a flaw to a virtue—like, maybe they’re so greedy that they think of the entire universe as being part of their possession, so anything that threatens the universe is something they would fight against. Like the same kind of vibe as a dragon that thinks of an entire village as their hoard, so they protect the village. Or maybe their greed manifests itself as greed for knowledge or greed for worship or greed for friends/allies (as, perhaps, types of “power”), so even if they’re not like fully heroic necessarily, they can still be complex and complicated and can play off of the other Lantern Corps in interesting ways.

[ingravinoveritas]

Love seeing this clip show up on my TL again, and especially love seeing this comment on it...

[gingermintpepper]

In your story does Apollo willingly leave or is there some other circumstance? In addition, does he know the consequences of his departure? Your story sounds very interesting !! Also, I got some new character designs that I’d be happy to hear your opinion on !!

YOUR DESIGNS HAND EM OVER AAAAA I will absolutely nyoom over to obsess over your babies after this - I still have those notes on Aphrodite, Ares and Hermes to give too!!

As for Apollo - he is extremely, intensely aware of his roles and responsibilities which is why anyone who knows him also knows that he'd never abandon his station. Even when he leaves for Hyperborea to rest, he is extremely punctual about returning. That said, the circumstances under which he disappeared... he was not himself after Hyacinth's death and he certainly wasn't in his right mind either. The jury is very split on whether something happened to him and now he's lost or needs a rescue (which would be difficult considering no one can find him anywhere) or if he's pulling a Demeter and decided to damn the world in his grief. Since no one's seen him in years and there's that whole 'end of the world' thing going on more people currently believe the latter than the former.

There are a few alternate theories as to what happened to him as well - that he went searching for - or even found - death like he had begged Zeus for, or that his grief metamorphised him into a tree or animal of some sort and that if they could find whatever he's turned into, they could use that to help restore the divine order. The point is, everyone is looking for him but not many people actually want to find him for fear of learning the truth behind his absence.

[joyridingmp3]

had a weird first time ever experience tonight. my mum pulled me in for a huge, super tight hug and told me "everything's gonna be okay"

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly 2 trans 2 furious is also extremely like [billionsposting as people never meant to be here yet having the symposium while not necessarily having a good time but we can also analyze &/or simply play around with it in other ways with an easy ability to deconstruct things enough for that & perhaps have a good time, perhaps have something way more complicated than that but which could also be called having a good time] like including in its having the "there's a nonbinary f&f character" entry in there at all through kompensoing & monitoring billions since & drawing funny little guys about it (winston, e.g., and taylor) and then also that like, Any & Every Entry in 2 trans 2 furious is of that genre of crucial tour de force visionary symposium understander posts that get 2 notes. and then compiling that is like yes of course this wins an award, a surprise but also not really at all.

[jaberfamily]

Support My Family Journey to Safety and Peace

🚨Urgent Appeal 🚨

My name is Jaber Al-Haj. I am from Gaza, married to my wife, Menna, and we have a little son named Hashim, who is less than two years old. Like any Palestinian family, we dreamed of a simple and stable life. But the recent war turned our lives upside down. The sounds of explosions never left us, and fear has become part of our daily existence. My son Hashim suffers from health problems that urgently require treatment, but the war has destroyed everything, including the healthcare system, making access to necessary medical care nearly impossible. With each passing day, our suffering deepens, and the fear for Hashim’s health and future consumes me.

Alongside my small family, I used to work with my brothers, Aboud and Bilal, on our joint project—a small lab for producing essential household cleaning products. We started this project with modest resources, dreaming that it would become a source of income to support us and provide job opportunities for our community. But the war left us with nothing. Our lab, which was once filled with life and hard work, was reduced to rubble under the bombardment. We lost our equipment, our livelihood, and with it, a part of our dreams for the future.

Even our home, our only refuge, did not escape the destruction. It was severely damaged and is now uninhabitable. We were forced to flee and live in a tent under harsh conditions unfit for human life. The cold, the heat, the lack of resources, and the absence of privacy have made life nearly unbearable. We try to cope, but every day brings new challenges and suffering.

Today, what worries me the most is my son Hashim's condition. His health is deteriorating, and he desperately needs treatment abroad. However, under the circumstances we’re living in, I lack the means to secure his travel and medical expenses. As a father, there is nothing more heartbreaking than watching my child suffer while being unable to help him.

This campaign is a lifeline for my family in our darkest hour. With your generosity, we can bring hope back into our lives and secure a better future for my son, Hashim. Every contribution, no matter how small, makes a world of difference.

Please support us through the links below:

👉Donation link

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Thank you for standing with us and helping us through this difficult time. Your kindness means more than words can express.

With heartfelt gratitude, Jaber AlHaj

✅ My Campaign ✅ 🔍Vetted by @90-ghost here 🔍Vetted by association in this post

@90-ghost @heritageposts @gazavetters @neechees @butchniqabi @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @strangeauthor @bryoria @shesnake @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @sar-soor @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @jdon @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @schoolhater @toesuckingoctober @waskuyecaozu @a-shade-of-blue @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

[theheartmold]

I was reading this post over on the Ao3 subreddit this evening and I think it brings up a lot of good points about how fandom, as a community, has been shifting in its treatment towards fanfic writers.

Fanfic is more popular than ever, which means there are more works "competing" for the readers' attention, who take on a passive approach that treats fanworks not as a means to talk to people with similar interests, but as content, as products. [...] Gift cultures thrive not on monetary exchanges, but on the expectation that the gifts freely given will be returned in an unspecified future through emotional and relational means. This used to set fandom apart, but it's slowly being absorbed into the mainstream way capitalism operates. Where does that leave us?

And it's demotivating to see the responses authors get when expressing their grievances with this state of affairs, or how they feel underappreciated. Being called entitled, told to write for themselves, or to promote their work as if writing and posting isn't enough. I write for myself, I post for the community. There are things I want to say about the source material and characters, and I do through storytelling. And I'm grateful about each of the comments I got, no matter how short. It's just that it doesn't feel like there's a community out there when no one talks back. Writers aren't just expected to write, but to do it for the "right reasons", and to also be as pleasant about it as possible, lest they'll be criticized by more people than the amount that's offering them support.

I've seen posts going around on tumblr that have approached this topic as well--that fanworks (particularly fanfic) should be created from the perspective of a perfect vessel that can pour, pour, pour out and never needs to be poured into. You should do it for the "right reasons" and not complain because "no one owes you interaction". But what is fandom if not interaction?

Writing fanfic is one of the most time-consuming labors of love that makes up a fandom. (That's not to say other fanworks aren't labors, time-consuming, or made with love. We're talking about fanfic). Your 300k+ enemies to lovers slowburn porn-with-plot fic that has reshaped the entire way you approach a specific pairing or media has been made with time, effort, for free, with the intention to be shared with you.

And in the state of current fandom, it has been made with the expectation to receive nothing back. Is that fair? Maybe. Silent readers exist and a kudos on Ao3 is at least an acknowledgment that some people read and enjoyed. But does it hurt to leave a comment? Even a heart emoji or an "I loved this, thank you for sharing!" is enough to at least start a dialogue, a conversation, form a connection.

That's not even to mention the isolation of fandom interactions to private Discords; time after time I've heard from fanfic authors who found out that there have been discord servers or twitter groupchats where their fanfic has been discussed, loved, and lauded at length--but never once was the author told this! Ao3 has comments for a reason. Many authors link their tumblr profiles or emails in their bio for people to reach out to them.

It's just a sorry state to see it go.

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

.