#he's got a bigger role in this guys

[dashiellqvverty]

im so excited about being specs its like perfect for me because he really doesnt have that many lines (possibly the fewest of the named newsies?? but im not actually sure lmao) but i still get a COUPLE of lines including some tiny little singing solo lines. so its not overwhelming for me but i still feel like im Playing A Character

[termagax]

i think its a shame they made d16 taller when he megatrons out. i genuinely thought the visual of this tiny little guy standing up against these much bigger scarier more experienced guys was deeply cool. and also im a short megatron truther i do think it would be really sick to do a short one this time.

[cream-and-tea]

how do werewolves work in lmd (plus anything else like that)

OK SO.

(this got very very long)

(just as a warning)

(also i’m going to tag @transmasc-wizard bc i remember you asked about this a while ago and a lot of this response comes from what i had typed up to respond to YOU lol)

(okay here we go)

there are (putting it very very basically) two main kinds of magic in the Ghost Story Universe: mortem (Death Juice) and vita (Life Juice). they draw from the same source (God Juice) (which is also the source of the apocalypse but that’s another post entirely) and are kind of different aspects of one thing, but still act as opposing forces. equals and opposites, can’t have one without the other, etc etc. the point is that even though they��re two different types of magic they share the same set of rules and operate under the same basic facts. one of the most basic being that magic is physically taxing to use. no magic comes without a cost

so this is pretty straightforward. and generally it isn’t anything too debilitating, but the more powerful the magic and the more magic used, the more damaging the physical effects become (for example: early on agnes’s chitchats with the ghosts she sees don’t really wear on her because it’s a very passive form of her power, but as the plot progresses and she actively draws on it more and more she starts to develop chronic headaches). the more active magic bullshit you do in succession —> the worse you’ll be feeling the next morning. people would usually need to rest for upwards of a few days after performing a major act of magic and the reason The Library focuses so much on endurance and repetition is to prevent that from happening. it’s to the point that some majorly powerful stuff is possible but the benefit of it is almost completely outweighed by the potential damage it would cause.

rambly worbuilding aside, this is really just a preface so it makes sense when i say: vampires and werewolves are what happen when people push their magic to far.

they’re basically the most extreme end of the spectrum for either kind of magic. vamps are a result of overusing vita (blood life stuff), and wolfs are a result of overusing mortem (spooky death stuff). this happens to people when they’re drawing on so much magic that their body literally cannot support it anymore and starts canabilizing itself in order to support the magic and prevent the person from just. coming apart at the seams. a Regular Person body is just incapable of handling that amount of power, so in turn they have to draw their sustenance from a different non-human source. the comparatively small piece-of-magic-apocalypse-juice in them mutates and co-opts the functions of their body in order to save that body from collapse. both vamps and wolves have to feed CONSTANTLY or they risk their bodies giving in and all their organs straight-up failing. it’s a slow transformation process and sort of representative of how much Whatever Caused The Apocalypse has become so deeply ingrained in every part of the new world. again: it presents differently but it’s all the same stuff in the end.

the world is full of monsters and weirdness and general spooky bullshit but vampires and werewolves especially have an ENORMOUS amount of stigma surrounding them because of the fact that most people still see regular magic users as recognizably human, and view the transformation as a transition from Human Person With Emotions Who I Should View As Such Despite This One Weird Thing to Inhuman Monster. most magical creatures aren’t seen as sentient in nature and many of them are actively dangerous to humans, so if someone pushes their abilities to far and ends up undergoing the transformation then it’s seen as a shift from being one of Us (normal people just trying to survive this crazy broken down to world) to being one of Them (unnatural monsters that came about as a result of the evil forest and apocalypse and want to destroy humanity), except that obviously the people who are turned are the same people they were before, just with an extra set of challenges and probably more bloodlust (which i can see being a bit of concern but c’mon. are u really going to let a little killer instinct get in the way of a lasting and meaningful relationship. weak).

They’re also used as an excuse when it comes to hatred of people born with magic at all. bc sure it SEEMS harmless when you kid is learning from their dead grandma or healing a little bit faster than normal, but with ONE WRONG MOVE they could become A VISCOUS BEAST or a BLOODSUCKING MONSTER and do you really want to take that risk?? wouldn’t it be better to stamp that out now before someone gets hurt??? even in places like The Library, which usually serves as a safe-haven for people born w magic, vamps and wolfs are seen as somehow Lesser. The Library toutes them as cautionary tales and failures of magic, basically a warning of what not to do to their students.

to get into the more specific abilities and effects and What Being A Vampire Or Werewolf Means i’ve made some handy little lists (ft. calliope and luca macnamara, a book 2-3 character that nobody knows about lol) (please click tumblr absolutely wrecked the quality):

so. yeah.

[bunny-jpeg]

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ i like my men older - simon riley♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

you knew that your friends from school raised an eyebrow when you told them that you were dating a man almost double your age. you were in your twenties, while this 'simon' guy was close to fifty. you told them that he was an army man who had a gooey center for you.

your friends could see the upgrade in your laptop and the new knapsack with a logo that proclaimed it was expensive. the small chain around your neck with a 's' on it that you toyed with when they asked questions about him.

you looked happy, healthier even! you weren't eating minute meals and surviving off of black coffee. there was a little roundness to your cheeks now and you looked more alive. a glow to you that wasn't that while you trudged through your graduate program. so honestly, how could they complain?

if you had a glow to you, it was because you were often fucked out. most women your age through that dating an older man would mean having to go slow. be patient about technical difficulties regarding their cocks. that was what you expected from a man that old. especially one with aches and pains like simon. your poor si, he had been in the military his entire life. barely had the touch of a woman during that time! poor guy! of course you'll teach him all the ways a woman should please a man. the first time you ran your tongue on the underside of his cock he cam all over your head, and while you whined. it made you crazy hot. fucking simon was like fucking a live wire. he hadn't slowed down with age. he fucked like a stallion in breeding season. and he loved when he pulled his heavy cock into you. you once told him that he could be a cervix breaker. and he simply said, "well, if i break it... i can't breed it." which made you go slack jaw for a moment before he continued to rut up against you. you didn't expect a man of his age to have a breeding kink.

you practically begged your doctor to give you birth control, because he was not buying condoms. "don't fit in 'em, lovie." he said as he patted his clothed cock when you started dating. you knew that was impossible, condoms could fit a lot of things and while simon was fairly big. he could fit in a condom. but, no. when you tried to put them on yourself, he simply took it off, tossed it to the side and pinned you under his heavy weight. legs in the air as he rutted against you like a hungry animal.

he was so much bigger than you. wide shoulders, strong thighs and a bit of a gut to keep you folded under him. there was a masculine heft to him. he was strong, picking you up was easy to him even when you tried to tell him your weight. one time he gripped you by the waist with one arm and moved you out of the way. you kicked and squeaked as you were moved. but to simon it was easy as lifting heavy equipment. but that softness to some of his muscles really got you hot all over. it didn't help that part of your role as his girlfriend was to make sure that your man was fed. you cooked him meals and he over devoured in your sweet dessert. he loved you in an apron. all domestic and sweet for him. you were real wifey material. could easily be cooking meals for him and the kids in a few years. you can have a graduate degree and a few riley babies. "look good cookin' for me, darlin'. know how to make a proper meal for your man." you wouldn't admit but his words excited you.

simon can be a little... chauvinistic. it was just his age. while he respected female colleagues in the military and was beyond happy that you were getting your degree. he'd do things for you that you could clearly do on your own. like when you tried to fix the leaky tap in your flat. or when you try to carry all the groceries inside. yes, darling, you're a strong woman. but let him take over. take care of you. that was what a man did right? he'll cut the onions for you and try to fix your buggy wi-fi connection. he's pay for dinner every time and even get you dessert after. he'd wipe your face clear of the sweet treat you'd have. "don't ask her anything too difficult, johnny. she doesn't need to be thinkin' too hard." he once said with his hands over your ears and glared at his teammate. which only made the scotsman laugh. simon didn't mind if he had to take over. he'd never pull the rug out from under you, even when you were under him. you looked prettier under him, letting him take charge of your fucking. he took care of his girl, even when you whined and told him you were capable. there was no need to whine. simon needed to take care of his much smaller, much weaker baby girl. no need to break a nail trying to do stuff that simon could easily do for you.

even with the grey in his blond hair, he still kept up to you. there were times that you were too exhausted from day-to-day that you let simon rut between your thighs until he covered your round ass with his hot cum. you'd whimper which would turn into a yelp when he easily slipped his heavy cock into your sweet pussy. where it belonged. he fucked you heavily as his cum coated your behind, even trailing down your sloped back as you had your head in the covers.

"don't spill a drop off that pretty ass, baby girl. or else i'd might have to mark you again." thank god you liked your men older. <3

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 2

Okay, so I didn't realize how much building I was gonna do around (Y/n's) social life so this chapter is honestly about knowing (y/n). Anyways, the next chapter will be from the batfam's pov and focus more on the yandere bits! Hope you enjoy this chapter tho!

Tag List!: @sitepathos @ferakillia @uknowimdumb @shycreatorreview @niggrrooo @dhanyasri @cantfindmelol @space1crow @earth-to-mee @rosecentury @yuyuzi-ling @simpingfor-wakasa @bat1212 @sheepintherain @person-from-daaaa-voidddd @resident-cryptid @cupids-pretty-boy @danni1323

The change started slowly on a normal evening, an evening like every other. It was a football season game day, the big match between the Gotham City High Bats and the Gotham Prep Knights. For the rich prep kids, this was nothing more than another game, but for your school, this game was everything. This would help your school get the recognition and funding it deserves, and allow some students to be scouted and rewarded for their talent.

Not only that, but Gotham Prep always, every season goes to state, beating out all the other public schools in the city. They haven’t lost a game since the early 80s so there was a lot riding on this game. 

Your role, funnily enough, was representing the school as one of the Gotham City High school cheerleaders. Turns out that the gymnastics classes you took before were actually useful for purposes other than trying to impress Dick. You surprisingly took to cheerleading like a fish to water, liking the competitiveness and sense of belonging that came from joining the team. 

Anyways, you, the cheer team, and the football team were on a bus headed towards the bigger, better Gotham Prep football field. The bus was loud with music and schoolmates hyping each other up for the big game. Ethan, a friend of yours on the football team was nervously shaking his leg and squeezing his helmet so hard you thought it would crack.

Both you and your friend Arya noticed.

“Ethan, the game hasn’t even started yet and I already see a crack forming on your helmet.” You said jokingly, a gentle arm on his shoulder.

He startled, “Jesus Christ (Y/n) warn a guy next time.” Ethan spoke, offering a nervous smile.

“You need to stop freaking out bro. When you do, it freaks out the others on the team.” Arya gently said.

“I know, I know but— but there’s just a lot riding on this game. For a lot of us, this is our only way to get out of Gotham, and if we screw up the finals, we’ll be stuck here forever.” Ethan said solemnly, looking around at all his teammates.

“Well then good thing you guys aren’t gonna lose. Y’all have spent two years training to make this comeback, to make sure that Gotham City High finally gets this win. I promise you’ve worked harder than those assholes at Gotham Prep, so just go out there and put your training to use. Don’t let your nerves get to you, you have no reason to.” You calmly said.

“Yeah—yeah, we have trained harder, haven't we? Yeah, you’re right! We've just gotta go out there and play like we've practiced.” Ethan exclaimed, as if suddenly realizing why he should have confidence in himself and his team.

“Exactly!” Arya said, matching his enthusiasm and hitting Ethan playfully on the shoulder. 

The rest of the bus ride to the stadium was louder than ever, the coach and other teammates taking turns to hype up the more nervous members, to get them confident for the field. Everything was about normal once everyone made it to the stadium. The band was set up, and people were flooding the bleachers. It wasn’t until the last ten minutes before the game when normalcy died.

“Hey (Y/n), isn’t that your family?” A girl, Maya, says.

Lo’ and behold, Bruce Wayne and his entire gaggle of children were sitting on the home side of the bleachers, sporting Gotham Prep t-shirts. 

“What—oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What the hell are they doing here, they don’t even like football like that!?” You shout in frustration.

It was then when you remembered a conversation Dick, Bruce, and Damian had at the dinner table. Something about how it would help Damian out if he started going to school events and games, getting him acclimated to what being a normal teenager was like. That was all fine and dandy, but you didn't think the entire damn family was going to show up. Oh, the gossip columns are gonna have a field day with this. You could already imagine the headlines, “Bruce Wayne openly isolates daughter (Y/n) Wayne” or even, “The Wayne Family once again publicly shows dislike for daughter (Y/n) Wayne.”

You rolled your eyes at the thought, you had bigger things to worry about right now.

“Are you good (Y/n)?” Arya questions softly. 

She was one of the only people who you spoke your sorrows to, one of the only people who actually knows of just how lonely you were. Of course everyone knew that Bruce Wayne and his family didn't really like you very much– thank you Vicky vale– but nobody but Arya and Ethan really understood the crux of your situation. 

“Yeah, I'm all good bro, don't worry about it. Just focus on the game.” You said dismissively. It didn't bother you anymore, sure it hurt a little bit, but this was expected.

“Alright, its time to shake hands with the other team, everyone line up!” the football Coach, Coach Daniels, all but yelled.

You sighed, moving to the front of the line for the cheerleaders; you were team captain after all. Both the football teams and cheerleaders made their way to the center of the field where they met. You looked back at the rest of your team, you all knew that this was going to be an unpleasant interaction, it always was. The Gotham Prep cheer captain walked up to you, disdain and poorly concealed disgust on her face. You all quickly shook hands, trying to get this exhausting ordeal done and over with, but of course the other captain had to open her mouth.

“You lower end city girls sure have your own sense of style.” Darla, which was basically code for calling you and your team sluts. Wow, how original.

“You should see what’s underneath the jacket.” You replied, giving her a sharp smile.

She floundered, clearly expecting her insult to rile you and your team up. 

“Ugh, as expected of Bruce Wayne’s biggest embarrassment. You sad Daddy doesn't like you? Or maybe she’s just glad she gets to mooch off of him before he ends up disowning her.” Another girl pipes up, drawing mind grating giggles from the rest of their team. You recognized her, she was the daughter of some hot-shot CEO.

You just tiredly look back at your team, a few of them getting angry on your behalf while others looked to you in concern. 

“What, not going to say anything?” The other captain haughtily questioned. 

“I mean, what exactly is the response you’re expecting? Yeah, Bruce Wayne doesn't like me, but at least I didn't have to buy my way into the cheer team or have my daddy pay to make sure I wasn't held back.” You stated boredly.

She was silent in shock, right before the anger came bursting through.

“You whore! I’m going to fuck you up, take you to court and sue you!” She shrieked.

“You’re going to sue me? You mean sue Bruce Wayne?” You snorted, “Like that’ll ever happen. And bitch, you couldn’t fight if your life depended on it, so next time you threaten me remember–I can and will beat the ever-loving shit outta you.”

That must have sparked some fear in her because she just turned around and led her team back to their side of the field. You’re sure others noticed your altercation, obviously having no idea what was being said, but it was clear to both sides of the field that nothing good was said. You’re ready to turn back to your side when you accidentally make eye contact with Tim. The cold, calculating look in his eyes has you shifting in discomfort, you quickly look away as the cheer team and football players head back to their respective sides.

The players took their place onto the field while your team got into formation.

“Aright guys, this’s the big one! Give it all you got, just like we practiced!” You yelled.

Just like that, the whistle blew signaling that the game started. 

By the time you reach half time, Gotham Prep is fifteen points ahead of Gotham High. Your school does its low budget halftime performance which pales in comparison to the extravagant Gotham Prep performance. Your side of the stadium grows louder, louder in support of the football team. Before you know it, the boys are lining up for the second half of the game. Thankfully, Gotham High shoots up in points, the score now becoming 34 to 29. The issue is, the game is starting to come to an end with only two minutes on the clock. The crowd is loud, but everyone knows it'll be damn near impossible for Gotham High to win now. The only way to win would be to score a touch-down, which would bring Gotham High to 35 points.

It isn't until the 36 second mark when Ethan sees an opening and makes a run for it with the ball. The crowd is booming, your own voice adding to the mix of cheers and shouts. 

“Come on Ethan! Come on!” You yell, voice undoubtedly hoarse.

There's 5 seconds on the clock when Ethan dives over an opposing player and rolls into the other team's touchdown zone. The score board changes, the numbers now showcasing 34 to 35. Gotham City High with 35. Everyone goes crazy. You and Arya are holding each other jumping up and down. Holy shit, yall won! The football team was celebrating on the field, as they’re announced as the winners, a big trophy being handed into Ethan and his team's hands. And by tradition, you, Arya and the coach go grab the large gatorade barrel and proceed to soak the football team with it. There are yelps and laughs but everyone knows what it means, it means “you’ve won”. You and Arya run up to Ethan launching into him, uncaring of the gatorade now soaking your uniforms. 

It was a good day, a happy day. Everyone started loading up into the buses, starving for the victory dinner at Taco Bell. You honestly, truly forget that the Bats were even here. Shit hits the fan however, when you're in the middle of messing up a chalupa and Bruce Wayne and the rest of his brood walk in, making awkward eye contact with you. You promptly proceed to choke, Arya hitting your back to get you to stop. You do, but holy shit was that embarrassing. Also, what in the ever-loving fuck were they doing here!? 

Before you could voice your utter disbelief, another familiar face barrels into your table. Oh great.

“Hey ladies, how’d you like the game? Betcha I looked good on the field.” The voice of Adrien, a freshman player on the team, made itself known. 

He even made it a point to flex his arm muscles, hoping to impress you and Arya. You both just looked at each other before bursting out laughing. This poor freshman has been trying to get with y'all all year, despite you and Arya being sophomores. His god-awful attempts at flirting were absolutely adorable and downright hilarious. 

“Guys please don't laugh, I promise I have better pick up lines.” he begs, his demeanor that of a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry man, you're just too adorable, we can't take you seriously.” Arya says amused.

“Why don't you go talk to one of the freshman cheerleaders? I'm sure I heard Hiba and Darla talking about how good you did on the field.” You pipped in.

“No way! Are you serious!? Oh-uh, gotta blast ladies! See ‘ya around!” Adrien stutters, excitedly scrambling off to go find the girls you mentioned.

You and Arya broke off again into a fit of laughter.

“Were you guys teasing Adrien again?” Comes a lighthearted scold from Ethan.

“Not anymore than usual. Plus, I think we finally got him to pursue girls in his own grade.” You responded, a smug smile on your face.

Ethan just chuckled before sitting down with you and Arya. You all talked and laughed some more, your mood only being slightly soured by the Wayne family’s presence at the table across from yours. You did your best to avoid their not-so-casual glances in your direction. Why they were here is a can of worms you had to marinate on later. But for now, you'd just enjoy the rest of your night.

It didn't take long before everyone started getting ready to leave. Some students had their parents come pick them up, probably to go celebrate the school's victory with their families, whilst everyone else was getting ready to load back up into the buses and head to the school where parents would be waiting for their kids. You, however, would be biking back to the manor on your own. Sure both Arya’s and Ethan’s parents had offered you a ride, but you had declined. There was no need for them to go out of their way for you, especially when they should be spending their time celebrating with their children. You’d honestly just ruin the mood with your shitty circumstances.

So as you threw away the last of your trash and started walking to leave the restaurant, you were not expecting to be stopped, let alone stopped by Bruce Wayne. You froze, not knowing what to do. What did he want?

“(Y/n),” He started, voice lacking any tell-tale emotions, “no need to get on the bus, you’ll be riding home with us.”

You noticed immediately how he didn't really give you a choice, just an order meant to be followed. You swallowed nervously, you did not, under any circumstances want to be in a car with any of them.

“There's no need for that Bruce, I–um actually left my bike back at the school and I can't just leave it there so…yeah. I’ll–I'll see you back at the manor.” You said nervously. You weren't used to talking to him and to be quite frank he scared you.

Bruce of course took note of the fact you had not called him “dad” or “father” and had called home, “the manor” instead. This is when Dick decided to chime in.

“What, you're not going to bike all the way back home, are you?” Dick jested sarcastically.

“Uh, yeah? It's how I get back home everyday.” You mention abashed. Did they seriously not even know how you got home? Whatever, you’re too tired for this.

Bruce and Dick glance at each other, their shared look holding a meaning you couldn't understand.

“Well, it doesn't matter. You’ll just ride home with us from now on.” Dick stated, faux cheer in his voice. 

“Wha–what? Hold up, I can’t just leave without my bike! It’s gonna get stolen or–”

“We’ll get a new one, now stop fussin' and get a move on,” Jason grumbles, cutting you off.

You just sigh in defeat. Why the hell are they doing this? Why now? In the end, your questions don't matter as you get marched over to the waiting Rolce Royce Limo. That was when Arya and Ethan noticed you walking away from the bus, not even noticing the Waynes in their hurry to catch up to you.

“Hey (Y/n), why are ‘ya–oh.” Arya yells out before going silent after noticing the intimidating figure of Bruce Wayne and the even more intimidating figure of Jason Todd.

“Oh, hey guys. So–uh, I actually have a ride back to the manor now so I'm all good.” You say awkwardly.

“That's–that's great! But, what about your bike bro?” Ethan questions worriedly, the awkward and almost tense energy affecting him.

“I'm just going to pray and hope that it's still there when I come back for it tomorrow.”You answer tiredly.

“Damn, well, get home safe and get some sleep. We’ll see you soon girl.” Arya says, hugging you.

You hug her back.

“You too guys, get home safe. And Ethan, good job on the field bro, we’re all super proud of you.” You voice, a small smile on your face while you give him a hug.

“Thanks (Y/n), couldn't have done it without y’all hyping me up.” He says.

“Alright, alright no more sappy, corny lines. Now get on the bus before Coach Daniels pops another blood vessel.” You joke.

“Shit, I didn't even realize that was him yelling! Ethan, we gotta go! See ya (Y/n).” Arya exclaims, practically dragging Ethan to the bus with her.

You wave at them, your smile slowly disappearing as you realize you're about to have the worst fifteen minutes of your life on this car ride. The staring you were trying to ignore when talking to your friends was more prevalent now, making you anxious as you entered the car, squirming and fiddling uncomfortably in your seat as everyone else piled in.

You internally sighed as you heard the door shut and the car engine start. Perhaps it’d be better if you drank acid and died instead, but alas, it was too late for any of that. 

You’d just do your best to stay quiet and avoid the eyes boring into your very being.

[bamfkeeper]

Bamf Babies

RQ: 'I saw that you opened your requests and could I request a dabble of the daily life of Kurt and his partner who treats his bamfs as if they're are their babies? Like she cooks for them, makes them little clothes, tucks them in, gives them names (with Kurt's approval, of course), and all that?' - @mari-thesimp

Warnings: GN reader, though the term 'mother' is used just once just as a way to describe your role. Unedited.

A/N: Umm yes??? Ugh, this was a fun little drabble. The bamfs, come on, cute little guys. I wish I had one. I'd kill for one.

The bamfs were...a lot...when you first met them. They were like little gremlins who were constantly at full energy, scampering around and getting into things they weren't supposed to. The only time they weren't running around so much was when they finally sat to eat. Kurt noticed that they were fond of you right away, and while he has to leave for missions, he decides to leave them with you, or at least a few at a time before it gradually turned into all of them.

You became their unofficial mother. But like hell you'd deny that.

The bamfs slept with you, all curled up beside you like a litter of kittens. Their soft, velvety skin felt so warm against you, like gentle peach fuzz. Sometimes they fought to sleep the closest to you, some would cry and you'd have to reassure them.

Bamfs can be quite jealous, so you have to make sure to show equal amounts of affection and love, otherwise it can cause an unruly bamf which is never fun. As you learned how they worked, you got better at managing them all.

Each morning, you wake up and made them breakfast. Kurt is normally exhausted, so you let him sleep in. The bamfs scramble out of bed with you, eager and happy. their little chirps and chitters fill the kitchen as they gather by your feet. Some climb on the counter, trying their best to help you cook. Pancakes were their favorite, but they weren't so good at making them. They tried, but they often made a big mess with the batter. Then they fought...and an even bigger mess happens.

So you handle the mixing. You learned.

They still liked to try to help, so you let them put chocolate chips or blueberries in them if they wanted. Each pancake you poured, you held up a bamf and they sprinkled in their add-on. Each one was served and given syrup, and now you had a handful of happy, quiet bamfs. Still and busy eating their food. Their big cheeks full of sweet pancakes as they ate happily.

"Guten Morgen..." Kurt says groggily, making his presence known. He's got major bedhead, trudging over to you and rubbing his eye sleepily. You return the greeting, smiling at him as he hugs you from behind. "Any for me...?" he asks tiredly, his face nuzzles your neck.

"Of course," you chuckle lightly. The bamfs had to get their sweet tooth from somewhere, and Kurt's sweet tooth was crazy.

You make Kurt his breakfast, and pass out cut up bananas and fruits for the bamfs. Some pout, and you chuckle. "Now, you have to have something healthy too, little ones. Besides, bananas and berries are yummy." You spoke gently to them, scratching their heads as you distributed the food. They all reluctantly ate the fruit, wanting to make you happy.

After breakfast, it's bath time. You bath the bamfs twice a day, they get...dirty, very easy. Luckily all of them can fit in the bathtub, so it's not that difficult. You scrub them and wash their hair, seeing them happily splash and play in the water. Some hate the water, they are like cats, trying to get away from the tiniest of drops, but you manage. There are one or two where Kurt has to help hold them in so you can wash them. The poor bamfs cry and try their hardest to get out, but only when they're clean. You give them lots of kisses when they're done, so they feel better. The little dears eventually stop crying, but they pout and are grumpy.

You like to play with them, you go outside and play on the playgrounds with them, the bamfs love slides. They're also little spiders, crawling on every single thing they can.

"Careful!" you called, one bamf climbed on the very top of the castle and chirped victoriously. The bamf seemed so proud of itself, but like that instinct you had, the bamf slipped and slid off the castle top and down to the wooden pellets that covered the playground. It landed on its back and its little body rolled over, the force of the landing turned it onto its belly.

A soft hic and it started to cry. You rushed over, Kurt noticed and teleported beside the little bamf as it cried. Its tearful cheeks damp as it reached up to you. "Awe it's okay...I'm here baby..." you cooed, holding the darling bamf close. It was a little dirty, but otherwise okay. Nothing broken, "You're gonna have one hell of a knot on your head later, sweetheart."

The bamf cried and buried itself into you, the others were concerned and slowed their play as you comforted the hurt bamf. "He's okay, liebe...just a little hurt." Kurt reassured, but the bamf didn't want to be put down and you didn't want to let it go yet.

"I know, I know...just let me comfort him..." you whispered to Kurt, whom backed off and let you do your thing. "Shh, sh...it's alright, you slipped, that's all. You're okay, little one..." you reassured the bamf and gave it a little kiss on the head, your hand gently soothing the sore spot.

Playtime didn't last much longer, you all went inside to clean up once again, and it was dinner time. You cooked and hummed, the bamf who hurt itself didn't leave your side, crying and wanting to be held constantly. You of course held it, the poor thing kept itself buried against you. The darling had a wrap around its head where it fell and you held an ice pack to the spot when you weren't stirring dinner at the stove.

Kurt occupied the rest, they couldn't use sharp utensils, but they helped season things. When dinner was served, it was a typical mealtime, they ate happily with little complaint unless it came to brussel sprouts and broccoli. You cleaned up, and came to the den to relax for the evening and enjoy their company...and Kurt's of course.

The bamfs colored at the table, most of their drawings were messy and childlike. The injured bamf stayed close to you, laying in your lap with the ice on its head. The pitiful bamf was extremely attached to you, and would sometimes make cries to get your attention when it wanted more.

Kurt stayed close to you, sighing down at the little bamf. "He's really attached to you, schatz...all of them are. They might love you more than me," he chuckled lightly, kissing your temple. The comment and kiss made you smile lightly, your heart beating a little quicker.

"Ah well...I just try to care for them the best I can." Your thumb was gently rubbing the bamf's cheek, the little one had fallen asleep in your lap. "I think it's bedtime, the others are quite sleepy too."

The rest were slow and sluggish now, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Kurt agreed, leading them all up to your bedroom. "Alright little ones...let's get you in your jammies." you hummed, holding up little onsies you made for them. Putting clothes on them for the first time was hard, but over the months, they learned to adjust. It was like putting clothes on a cat, they acted funny at first but as you learned the sizes and where the clothes were pinching, you figured out how to make the clothes as comfortable as possible.

They all slept in bed with you, but they had their own little corner where there was a big nest they slept in too. However, you couldn't deny them if they wanted to sleep beside you, especially the hurt one. So after you changed and got ready for bed, you slipped in and they all piled in after you. The injured snuggling close, then the rest came around and settled.

Kurt was behind you, his tail wrapping around your leg. "Comfy?" he asks you softly, and you nod in return. You were exhausted. The day was long and you were ready for bed. You had a little family here, and you couldn't be happier with your life. Kurt and the bamfs were your everything, and you were theirs.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover images from Nightcrawler #5 (2014)

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO TAKES A LIE DETECTOR TEST… 9.6M VIEWS

꩜ actor!toji (& implied actor toji x actress/actor reader)

⤷ synopsis: toji thought this lie detector test was going to be a breeze. he was a little mistaken.

sfw, fluff, crack, ooc toji, toji & reader are secretly together, toji lying!

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

⪩　 　  ₊　    🍪 　 　✧ 　 　⁺

“i ain’t nervous,” toji claims, cracking his neck and smirking as the crew members attach the needed equipment to his body, “i ain’t no liar either. so i got nothing to worry about here.”

“i sure hope that’s true, mr.fushiguro.” the polygraph examiner replies slyly.

“are you ready, toji fushiguro?” the interviewer asks.

“yeah, i am,” toji claps, “hurry up and get started.”

“is your name toji fushiguro?”

“yes my name is toji fushiguro.” he looks to the polygraph examiner. “it is, right?”

the woman simply stares at him.

“..alright then…”

the interviews asks another question. “are you about to take a polygraph exam?”

“yes, yes and yes, now give me the real questions!”

TOJI FUSHIGURO TELLS THE TRUTH

YOUR CAREER

“we’re going to start with the category of your career.”

toji nods and looks to the examiner. “how ‘m i doing?”

“you’re very calm, nothing unusual yet.”

“hm.”

the interview begins to speak. “one of your most popular roles as an actor was when you played Frank Castle in the Netflix series, “The Punisher”. some would say this is when you became a heartthrob. do you think is this true?”

toji sighs and shakes his head. “nah-”

“LIE.” the polygraph examiner calls out.

toji raises his hand. “…because, i was already a heartthrob before alla that.” he smiles, looking proud of himself. his answer is met with silence.

“ok.” says the interviewer and goes onto the next question. “do you face a lot of pressure being a heartthrob?”

“nope.” toji answers easily. “i’m just that kinda guy. i ain’t gotta try too hard for much, especially not ‘being hot’.”

he looks at the examiner.

“he’s telling the truth.” she states. she almost seems disappointed by the fact.

“see?” toji says, folding his arms, “as i said, ‘got nothin’ to lie about.”

“in the punisher,” the interviewer starts, ignoring toji’s cocky replies, “do you wear a muscle suit to look bigger than you actually are?”

toji throws his back, cackles echoing around the small room. “fuck no!” he gestures to…his whole body, “‘it look like i need a muscle suit? ‘didn’t even know that shit was a thing… i’m big enough without any of that stuff.” he shrugs, looking into the camera. “i think we can all see that.”

the examiner nods curtly. “..he is telling the truth.”

“do you workout often?” asks the interviewer.

toji scoffs. “i thought i’d get good questions..but yeah, yeah i do workout.”

“would you consider yourself fit?”

“yep. ‘hundred percent.”

“would you consider yourself fitter than,” the interviewer slides a photo of the actor gojo satoru towards toji, “this man?”

“pfft-” toji chortles. “oh, ohh yeah. easily. he’s like..” he looks for the correct words, “a little boy. are we kidding?”

he looks to the examiner and then to the interviewer.

“he is being truthful..again.”

toji smirks at the camera, tapping the side of his nose with his finger. “toji never lies.”

POP CULTURE

“this year, you were named “The Most Sexiest Man Alive” by People Magazine. do you believe you’re sexier than this man, 2022’s sexiest man, nanami kento?” the interviewer slides another photo, this time of the actor nanami kento.

toji looks at the photo for a second, before scoffing a little. “oh yeah. definitely. ‘guy just has a permanent frown on his face. he ain’t ugly but he could smile a little, y’know?”

“what about this ‘guy’, 2021’s most sexiest man alive, ryomen sukuna?” the interviewer also slides a picture of him to toji.

toji strokes his chin. “heh..yeah..yeah i would say so..this guy..he ain’t ugly either but..theres this energy about him..”

“what energy would that be, toji fushiguro?”

“the energy of a fuckin’ mass murderer that’s what!” he laughs at his own joke, looking at the picture of this ‘ryomen sukuna’, who is glaring into his soul through the image. “yeahh, i’d say i’m more attractive than him. just.. just a little.” he holds two fingers close together emphasis. “jesus christ, that’s one scary looking fuck.”

the examiner inspects the polygraph and looks towards toji and the interviewer. “he has been telling the truth.”

“yeah.” toji nods, exhaling through his mouth and sliding the pictures away from himself. “‘course i am.”

LOVE LIFE

toji had been doing well so far, but the category of ‘love life’ would be his downfall.

“do you want to get married in the future?”

“yeah, yeah i do.”

the examiner nods.

“have you ever been in love?”

“..yes.” toji responds, thinking about his past for a second.

the examiner nods again.

“are you in love right now?”

toji pauses for the first time in the whole test. he takes a deep breath. “no. yeah, no. ‘m not.”

the examiner raises an eyebrow at the results. “questionable.”

“oh, c’mon.” toji groans, rolling his eyes.

“is there someone you’re in love with?”

“nope. nobody at all.” he interlinks his fingers, tapping them against each other. “..nobody at all..”

“questionable. again.” the examiner states, pointedly looking at toji.

toji sighs. “oh, brother…”

“did you happen to meet this person..on set?”

“no, ‘cause there is no person?” toji says firmly.

“again.” the examiner says. “questionable.”

“christ…”

the interviewer asks another question. “do you believe in love at first sight?”

toji huffs. “no, that’s just two people who wanna fuck.”

“i see. then,” the interviewer takes out three pictures, all of them being people who he has worked with on set, including you.

“are you in love with any of these people?”

toji gulps, hesitating for a split second, his eyes focused on your picture. “nope. not oneeee bit.”

“LIE.” the examiner shouts excitedly, happy to have finally caught toji out on lying. she rings the negative buzzer repeatedly. “lie!”

“‘you serious?” he asks incredulously, looking between the interviewer and the examiner. “listen, maybe it was just my heart murmur or somethin’ like that,” he looks to side, cheeks rosy and shifts in his seat a little, “i-i don’t-”

“those are the last of our questions.” the interviewer says to toji, smiling knowingly. “thank you for taking part in our lie detector test.”

toji grumbles.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie | @ncentic | @rosesored | @imover-18 | @gintokhi | @suzuperstarr | @lostgxrlblog | @jallie10 | @nnsav | @bunnyx-sakura | @bubbabobabubbles | @ladytamayolover | @keiva1000

a/n: this was longer than i planned 🤥

[milesmoralesluvs]

Cry Baby (I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you breathing) - Ekko x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: mention of blood

ekko x medic!reader

Ekko doesn't remember the exact moment when everything changed between you two. One minute, you were just kids running through the streets of Zaun, stealing glances at each other and dreaming of something better. The next, you were both standing midst of a revolution, both bearing the weight of your choices and responsibilities.

It had always been that way, hadn't it? Both of you carried the pain of Zaun’s broken streets in different ways, and that pain had shaped who you were—who you were meant to be.

“(Y/N),” Ekko whispered, his voice strained from the blood loss. “How did we get here?”

You didn’t answer right away. You finished wrapping his side with gauze and then gently cupped his chin, tilting his face up toward yours. There was no judgment in your eyes, only the kind of quiet understanding that Ekko had never found anywhere else.

“We were always going to end up here,” you said softly. “Those were the shitty cards we were dealt with.”

You were no longer the girl that played in the streets with him. You were the Firelight medic now. Your eyes were laser focused as you worked, hands steady and efficient. Back when you were children, you had patched him up after every scrape, every reckless stunt. Nothing had changed, you were still the one taking care of himself when he couldn't.

“Still think you’re invincible?” you asked, glancing up at him as you cleaned the wound.

“I’m still breathing,” Ekko shot back, but the words felt hollow, more tired than defiant.

You didn’t respond, just continuing to work on him. It was always this way. You’d never say what you really wanted to say, but Ekko knew you too well. There were things between you—things left unsaid—but both of you had been too afraid to voice them. Back then, it was the simple question of whether you’d be able to survive together. Now, it was bigger than that. Now, it was about whether if you guys could still see each other as more than the people you had been, more than the roles you both were now trapped in.

Ekko met your eyes, his chest tight. “I don’t know if I can fix this. Everything’s falling apart, (Y/N), I keep trying, but it’s never enough.”

You finished cleaning the wound, your hands pausing as you looked up at him. The same intensity you had always carried was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not supposed to fix everything,” you said quietly. “You’re just supposed to keep going. We all are.”

There was a pause, and for a fleeting moment, Ekko saw the girl he had known all his life. The girl who had bandaged his scraped knees, who had silently supported him with his creations. The girl who had always believed in something better for them, for Zaun.

“And what if I don’t know how?” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice something he hadn’t allowed anyone to hear in years.

You set down your medical tools and stepped closer to him. You took his hand, your fingers warm against his cold skin. For a moment, he felt a wave of emotions crash over him—memories of their childhood, of simpler times, of a connection that had always been there but was buried beneath the chaos of their lives.

“You don’t have to know how, Ekko,” you said softly, your voice just for him. “You just have to keep trying.”

You took a seat beside him on the tiny bed, bodies squished together, shoulders pressing. You hesitated for a moment before leaning your head against his.

“You’re not the Boy Savior or the leader of the firelights when you're with me. You’re just Ekko, the boy who always offered me the last bite of his food, the tastiest part. The boy who indulged in my every stupid theory about aliens. The boy who always managed to pull a reckless stunt and inevitably end up injured and me having to patch you up.”

You fiddled with the ends of your skirt. “You still do. All of that.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Your aliens theories are very interesting.”

You smiled at him softly. He mirrored a similar one of his own.

Ekko looked at you then, really looked at you. And in that moment, something shifted—something he hadn’t expected but had always hoped for. He wasn’t sure where this path would lead them, but he knew one thing for certain: you was still here, still standing by his side.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you,” he said, his voice low, vulnerable.

You smiled, gently flicking his forehead before cupping his face to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. ‘You dont have to, silly. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you ever.”

For a long moment, you simply stayed there, the weight of everything you both had endured settling between, unspoken. You didn’t need to say more. Not yet. There was time.

[othercrossee]

For me, making Irida and Adaman into their late 20s is actually very good for the development and more history for both of their relationship

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Dummfucks of the Grid

word count: 760

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After a disappointing P6 finish at the São Paulo Grand Prix, Lando Norris finds comfort in his girlfriend Y/n's fierce support as she playfully criticizes the other drivers and team principals

______________________________________________________________

As the door to Lando’s driver’s room closed, the noise of the paddock celebrations faded into the background. Lando sat on the couch, his head in his hands, feeling the weight of finishing P6 after a race that had promised so much more. The disappointment was palpable, especially with Max winning again.

Y/n moved swiftly to sit beside him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. “Hey, Lando, P6 isn’t the end of the world. You gave it your all out there.”

He sighed, his frustration evident. “Yeah, but I wanted to do better. With Max winning again, it feels like I keep falling short.”

“Falling short?” she echoed, shaking her head. “You didn’t just fall short; you navigated a field of absolute clowns out there! Let’s talk about it. You know I’m here for you.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Care to elaborate?”

“Okay, first off, Max. He drives like he’s playing Mario Kart and thinks he can just take everyone out with a blue shell! I mean, does he not understand that sharing the track is part of the job? It’s like he thinks he’s invincible! It’s ridiculous!”

He chuckled, a small smile breaking through. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“And then there’s George Russell, who finished P4 today. Honestly, he acts like he’s the golden child of the grid. ‘Look at me, I’m so talented, watch me throw my weight around!’ It’s like he forgets he has to race, not just pose for the cameras. Every time he gets near you, it’s like he’s trying to play bumper cars!”

“True,” Lando said, laughing harder now. “I can feel the ego swelling every time I see him.”

“And don’t even get me started on Leclerc! He’s out there racing like he’s auditioning for the role of ‘Most Likely to Crash Into a Wall.’ It’s like he has a special talent for making the race more dramatic than it needs to be. How does he always manage to be on the brink of disaster and still finish? Is it a gift or a curse?”

Lando nodded, now thoroughly entertained. “He does have that knack for drama, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely! And then we have Carlos Sainz. I mean, bless him, but he’s trying so hard to keep up with Leclerc that it’s like watching a puppy chase its tail. Poor guy looks so lost sometimes, you just want to give him a treat and a pat on the head! But he gets a pass because he’s your friend.”

“Right? Carlos is actually a good guy,” Lando said, shaking his head, amused.

“And then there’s the team principals!” Y/n continued, her passion bubbling over. “Christian Horner thinks he runs a royal court every time Max crosses the finish line. ‘Look at my king!’ as if it’s not a team effort. And Toto—he’s not innocent either. He struts around like he’s the head of a fashion show! Honestly, if I had a dime for every time I’ve seen him making dramatic hand gestures in the pits, I could fund a whole new racing team!”

“Okay, that one’s a good point!” Lando laughed, feeling the tension ease with every word.

“Seriously, I would fight every one of them for you if it came down to it. Size doesn’t matter when you’re this passionate!” she declared boldly. “I’d take on Max, George, and anyone else who thinks they can just push you around out there!”

“Y/n, you do realize you’re only 5’6, right?” Lando replied, grinning. “How are you going to take on all of them?”

“I may be small, but I’ve got a big heart and a bigger mouth!” she shot back, her eyes sparkling with defiance. “Just imagine me storming the paddock like, ‘Back off, or I’ll unleash my fury on you!’”

“Please don’t start any fights in the paddock,” he said, his tone light but earnest. “I love your spirit, but I’d rather not deal with the fallout. I need you here, not banned.”

“Why not? It would be entertaining!” she countered, smirking. “I’d tell them all off! ‘Listen up, dummfucks of the grid, stop getting in my boyfriend’s way!’”

Lando laughed, the sound genuine now. “You really are something else. Knowing you’ve got my back means everything.”

“Absolutely! If they try to block you from winning, I won’t hesitate to step in,” she said, snuggling closer.

“Just promise me you won’t do anything too crazy,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face. “I love your fierceness and protective side, but let’s keep you in the paddock, okay?”

[pinejayy]

╰➤ First Fight || One Piece

featuring: kid and law

summary: your first fight with your one piece boyfriends // here is part 2

warnings: kid being kid, curse words, law being stubborn and not wanting to eat >:((

✦•··········• 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 •··········•✦

Kid

You knew Kid had a tendency to flirt with other woman especially if he was drunk. You’ve talked to him about it and he always tells you the same thing. “Stop being so insecure Y/N. It’s a little flirting. No big deal.”

But it bothered you so much, the way he talked to these girls and how he bought them drinks and you were the one who usually didn’t get mad but this…this bothered you so much. How could your boyfriend do that to you, you were sure if the roles were reversed he would be throwing a temper tantrum.

Tonight was no different, the kid pirates were at a bar celebrating a successful raid, and the crew were getting drunk their asses off with good beer. And Kid was across the bar flirting with this unknown girl…you watched them from a distance. The way she laughed at his jokes and talked in a high pitched tone of voice to him. It was annoying…but what made you snap was when she pressed her body against his metal arm and he didn’t even bother to push her away.

Stomping your way towards him, you gave the girl a bitter smile and shove her slightly and grab Kid by the ear and proceed to drag him out of the bar, the crew couldn’t help but let out small snickers and small “Ooh! Captain is in trouble!”

Once you guys were outside, Kid slapped your arm away and you rubbed his ear. “What the hell is your problem! Did you really have to embarrass me in front of my own crew!” He snaps, raising his voice at you, his voice was a bit off which meant he was drunk…great.

Keep in mind alcohol makes Kid a bigger asshole.

Scoffing at his words “Me?! Embarrass you? Oh please, you embarrassed me! Flirting with that girl…who does that. Especially in front of their lover?” And Kid couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your words. “This bullshit again? It’s nothing, just a little flirting. Not hurting anyone. I’m sorry that you’re so insecure.”

“Kid! She practically had her chest pressed against you and you didn’t even bother to move her.”

And he just grumbled and crossed his arms, looking down at you. “Oh please, grow the fuck up. Seriously we can’t keep having this same conversation. It’s honestly getting old.”And you couldn’t help but frown at his words. “Kid. I would appreciate it if you stopped. I’m asking you nicely.”

“Ha! Well tough luck! I’m the captain around here, and if you don’t like it then don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” He said and turned around and was about to walk into the bar and you grabbed his arm. “Kid. Please I’m asking you.”

And suddenly Kid snapped “FOR FUCK SAKES Y/N! STOP BEING SO INSECURE AND GROW UP! I CAN DO WHAT I WANT BECAUSE I’M EUSTASS KID!” He yelled at you, this was the first time he actually yelled at you, and you immediately moved your arm back. Feeling a bit intimidating by his loud voice, backing away slowly. Tears began to stream down your face, and Kid couldn’t help but scoff at your tears. “Great you’re crying now, you know what do yourself a favor and go back to the Victoria Punk and stay there, I don’t need your tears ruining my night.”

And with that Kid turned his back to you and before you could get a word in he walked away and back to the bar. Leaving you there alone, crying to yourself.

Now you could see why Kid gained the title of the most ruthless pirate…

Law

Your boyfriend had a tendency to skip meals to lock himself up in his office and bury himself into his books and paperwork. You would usually bring him food and made sure he had food in his stomach. And today was one of those days, you sigh to yourself and walk into his office with a plate of his favorite…Onigiri.

“Oh honey. I got your favorite.” You say with a smile across your face, and place the plate on his desk. And he didn’t even bother looking away from his book. Just letting out a small “Hmm..”

“Hey you can at least look at me. While I’m talking to you.” You say and sat on his desk. And Law took a quick glance at you. “There..Happy.” He mumbled and began to read again. You just sigh, and roll your eyes and decided not to push him further. You knew how he could get whenever he was too busy reading. “So…” Trying to start conversation.

“Do you need something Y/N-ya. Can’t you tell I’m busy here?” He sighed out and placed his book down. “And please, get your bottom off of my desk.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You mumbled and off of his desk. “Just wanna make sure you eat something.” Speaking softly, usually Law would appreciate this gesture but today he felt more annoyed. And he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at your words, which made you frown. He’s never acted this way towards you.

Letting out a deep sigh, he spoke up once again. “I understand that, but I can take care of myself. I don’t need you to mother me.”

“I’m not…I’m just looking out for my boyfriend.” You say, and picked up the plate of Onigiri and offered him the food and he looked away. “Please eat something…you’ve been in this office all day. Your book can wait.”

And Law sighed “Or maybe you can wait, have you ever thought about that?” He snaps slightly, which made you frown even more. “I just…thought…well you need to eat.” You say, struggling to speak. “Look if I wanna eat I’ll eat okay, I don’t need you to mother me, now please can I go back to my book.”

“No, you need to eat something. Your book can wait. So eat.” You demanded.

“And who do you think you are speaking to me like that? Huh? In case you’ve forgotten I’m the captain of this ship-”

“And I’m your lover as well!” You quickly cut him off, and he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “God you’re like an annoying fly that won’t go away. So annoying.”

“Excuse me?” You say and before you could speak even more Law spoke in firm tone of voice. “What? Can’t understand basic English? I said that you’re annoying me.” He lets out a heavy sigh, he watched your face and how you reacted to his words. “Please. Can’t you understand that I just wanna read my book, I don’t need your constant breathing down my neck. So please be useful and leave my office.”

And you stood there, Law has never spoken to you like that before. Looking down and away from his gaze, you tried not to cry. You place the plate down again on his desk. And a single tear slipped out and Law caught a glimpse of it and immediately felt awful. He was about to speak up but you quickly walked out and left him alone in his office.

“Fuck..” He mumbled to himself, and he looked at the plate of good and his stomach growled. God he hadn’t noticed how hungry he was. But he felt awful, he’s never spoken to you like that.

tagging: @st4rpiece ,, @takamimami ,, @zalera8310 ,, @oatmealmika

[sboochi]

Look, it's Zelda OCs out of nowhere!

Thoughts under the cut :]

The story/main mechanic is a combination of the companions concept and great fairy sidequest from TOTK, plus the idea of sages playing musical instruments in WW and Link being an orchestra director

Basically Zelda gives Link and Malon the main quest: rectruiting the best musicians of Hyrule to play the sacred song that will open the doors of the temple where the Master Sword is kept

Zelda is the one writing and teaching Link songs every time he comes back to the castle with a new party member. She hides her mad-artist vibe behind the "proper princess" role

Link and Malon are cousins, they grew up in Lon Lon ranch like siblings. Malon is the group's singing voice (and very sweet)

Link is extremely shy and he doesn’t talk much so directing four strong personalities is a bigger challenge than puzzles and monsters for him

They find Forte trapped inside the earth dungeon (he went there to study the art of music but got too scared by skulltulas to leave). He thinks he's better than everyone else, but he's not a bad guy. Clarinet player

Riff is the Zora prince but prefers playing in his band rather than listening to his mother. Annoying little shit. Drum player

At first Neuma refuses to join them but agrees to help when she finds out they're trying to stop Ganon. She used to be a memebr of the Council of the Seven in Gerudo Town but left for mysterious reasons (may have something to do with Ganon). The stoic type. Lotar player

((This is a good moment to say my music knowledge is near 0))

Imagine growing up in a community where everyone says you're different from them but you don't feel different. Imagine them convincing you that you're special. Imagine your mother saying you're destinied to great things. Then the Council declines your application. But you want power because You Are Special. Yeah it's Ganon's villain origin story

He obtained dangerous magic in questionable ways to get the power he craves

[harryspurpleloofah]

A Taste of You Instead

Picture is most definitely not mine ‼️‼️‼️

Summary: y/n is a chef who travels the world working in little restaurants and having her own pop up stands at festivals. She ends up having to stay in the villa because of an emergency and her and Harry come down to get water at the same time and end up hooking up.

Warnings: start and end are just fluffy, p in v sex with protection (use protection guys), nipple play, no one really plays the role of a Dom or a sub, subtle flirting between y/n and Harry the entire time, tit sucking

Mr and Mrs Lowe owned a beautiful holiday villa in the Bahamas. It was complete with a private chef who they had hired about a week ago for the high profile guests coming to stay. It was Harry Styles. With his guitarist Mitch and his drummer Sarah. Their son Arlo was with Mitch’s mother back in England. They’d also brought their mutual friend Pauli so Harry wouldn’t be third wheeling.

The whole group was buzzing with excitement, voices overlapping as they scattered throughout the villa to pick rooms. The air smelled of salt and sunscreen, a reminder of how far away they were from real life.

“Is this real?” Sarah called out from upstairs, her voice echoing. “I think this bathroom is bigger than my flat!”

“Dibs the room with the outdoor shower!” Pauli shouted, already halfway down the hall.

Mitch, less concerned about claiming a space, threw himself onto the oversized couch in the living room, right next to Harry. He grabbed the sleek brochure that had been left on the coffee table, flipping through it casually.

“Check this out,” Mitch said, holding it up so Harry could see. The cover had a photo of the villa bathed in golden light, with a caption that read, ‘An Exclusive Escape: Your Paradise Awaits.’

Harry leaned over, squinting at the text. “They really went all in on the marketing, huh?”

Mitch chuckled, turning a page. “It’s not just the house. They’ve got this whole... experience thing planned. Private yoga sessions, snorkeling tours, and—” he paused, raising an eyebrow, “a one-night ‘luxury dining experience’ with a personal chef. Fancy.”

Harry let out a laugh, shaking his head. “That doesn’t sound like us at all.”

“Speak for yourself, mate. I fully intend to live like a billionaire this week.” Mitch grinned, tossing the brochure back onto the table. “Who do you think the chef is? Like... a real one from a show or something?”

Harry shrugged, leaning back “Don’t know. Probably some bloke who makes tiny portions look pretty.”

A soft but deliberate ahem cut through the air behind him. Harry froze, Mitch’s eyes widened slightly as he looked past him.

Harry turned slowly, his gaze landing on her. She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“Not a bloke,” she said simply, her voice calm but with a hint of teasing, “and the portions will be perfectly sized, thank you very much.”

“Right..sorry about that.” Harry smiled apologetically and ran a hand through his hair.

She smiled back, “don’t worry. Mr and Mrs Lowe just asked me to drop by and make sure you guys have settled in well. Any problems?”

Sarah comes back just then with Pauli, his face in a pout, “there’s no hot water from the sink.”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow as she thinks for a second, “huh. Shouldn’t be a problem. Did you leave it running for a bit? Takes a bit of time.”

“Yeah for a good few minutes.”

“Alright. I’ll ask someone about that and have it fixed for you.”

“Thanks so much.”

Her gaze switches back to Harry, “now if that’s all I’ll see you guys at dinner tonight. And it’ll just be me no bloke with tiny portions.”

Harry winces in apology at being reminded once again of his mistake.

As Y/N turned back toward the kitchen, the group lingered in the living room, a little quieter than before. Sarah raised an eyebrow at Harry, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

“‘Probably some bloke,’ huh?” she teased, plopping onto the couch opposite him. “You’re off to a stellar start.”

Harry leaned back, crossing his arms defensively, though his cheeks betrayed him with a faint flush. “I didn’t know she was there,” he muttered.

She doesn’t seem like the type to hold a grudge,” Sarah offered, smiling.

At dinner, the patio was set with a long wooden table under a canopy of string lights, the sea breeze carrying the scent of fresh herbs and sizzling garlic from the open kitchen. The group was buzzing with excitement as they sat down, wine glasses clinking and laughter filling the air.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen carrying a tray, setting down the first dish with practiced ease. “Tonight’s menu is a little taste of the Mediterranean,” she said, her voice calm but warm. She explained the dish, a roasted red pepper and goat cheese tart without missing a beat, her eyes skimming the group until they landed on Harry.

“Not too small, I hope,” she added with a sly smile.

Harry sighs at the subtle jab at his earlier comment before chuckling, “alright that was a bad move. I’m sorry.”

She smiles softly, “enjoy your food guys.”

Dinner had stretched into an easy, flowing evening, laughter filling the air as everyone sat back and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere. By the time Y/N had cleared the last of the dishes and wiped down the kitchen counters, it was well past 11, and she was starting to feel the weight of the day.

She’d tried calling her usual driver earlier, but he’d canceled because of an emergency, and now, every taxi app she tried only showed unavailable drivers. She frowned at her phone, frustration building

“Still here?” Sarah’s voice interrupted her thoughts as she appeared in the kitchen doorway, a glass of wine in her hand. She looked at Y/N with a small smile. “Everything alright?”

She glanced up, showing her phone to Sarah with a frustrated sigh. “My driver canceled hours ago, and now there’s no way to get a car out here. I was thinking of walking down to the path, but I can’t get anything close”

Sarah’s face twisted into concern. “Wait, what? Walk down the path? It’s pitch black out there. You’re not doing that.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I wasn’t planning on going on a hike, just needed to get to the main road and hope for a cab.”

But Sarah protested “No way. It’s way too late and it’s not safe.”

Pauli came into the kitchen, “What’s going on? Is someone trying to leave in the middle of the night?”

Y/N shrugged, holding up her phone. “Just trying to figure out how to get home. My ride bailed, and now it’s too late to get a replacement.”

Pauli shook his head. “Not on my watch. I don’t care if you’ve got a time machine, you’re not walking down that path to the main road alone, and that’s final.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Pauli. I’ve done worse.”

Mitch, always the quiet one, stepped into the room and leaned against the doorframe with his usual laid-back vibe “You sure about that?” he asked glancing at the clock. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should just stay the night.”

Y/N hesitated, glancing between them. “I don’t want to intrude. It’s your getaway. You didn’t sign up for a surprise roommate.”

“Nonsense. You’re basically our friend now. Besides you’ve already done enough for one day you gave us a lovely dinner.”

“She’s right.”

Harry stood in the doorway, his presence effortlessly commanding. His sweatpants and t-shirt were simple, but the way he carried himself made them look intentional, almost tailored. His hair was slightly tousled, and he held a bottle of water loosely in one hand.

“You don’t even know what’s happening.”

Harry stepped further into the room, his smile soft but sure. “I don’t need all the details. Just heard you’re thinking about heading out on your own this late, and that’s not happening.”

“You make it sound like I don’t have a choice,” Y/N said, tilting her head.

“You don’t,” he replied easily, leaning one hip against the counter. “Not because anyone’s forcing you, but because it’d be ridiculous. There’s more than enough space here, and I’m pretty sure none of us want to wake up to a news story about someone wandering down an unlit road in the middle of nowhere getting hurt.”

Pauli nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly. ‘Chef disappears into the abyss’ is not a headline we’re aiming for.”

Y/N glanced at the others, then back at Harry, whose gaze was steady but relaxed. “And if I insist on leaving?”

Harry smiled, his tone light but firm. “Then we’ll insist you stay. It’s a holiday—it’s supposed to be easy, remember?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re awfully persistent.”

“It’s a skill,” he replied smoothly, his grin widening. “One night, Y/N. You’ll thank us in the morning.”

“Fine,” she said with a playful sigh, throwing her hands up. “But only because it’s easier than arguing.”

“Smart choice,” Mitch said with a small smile.

The villa was quiet, its sprawling layout and darkened hallways lending a hushed intimacy to the late hour. Y/N crept down the stairs barefoot, her silk pajama pants brushing lightly against her legs. She hadn’t meant to stay up this late, but the weight of the day had settled in her chest, leaving her restless.

Water. That was her excuse. She needed water.

When she entered the kitchen, she stopped short.

Harry was already there, standing by the counter in loose black sweatpants and a white t-shirt, the hem brushing his hips. His hair was an unruly mess, like he’d been tossing and turning before deciding sleep wasn’t worth the fight. He was mid-sip from a glass of water when he noticed her.

“Midnight cravings?” he asked, his voice low, the kind of quiet you only hear when the rest of the world is asleep.

“Just thirsty” she replied, stepping further into the room. “Didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

“Me neither.” He set his glass down and leaned against the counter, his hip jutting out just enough to make it look effortless. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

She went to the sink, reaching for a glass from the cupboard. She filled it slowly, her movements deliberate. “You always wander around this late?”

“Sometimes,” he said, watching her with an easy smile. “Hard to turn off the brain y’know?”

She nodded, turning to face him. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence stretching but never uncomfortable. The kitchen, dimly lit by a single overhead bulb, felt almost too small, the air thick between them.

“You seem more awake than I’d expect for someone who’s had a long day,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his green eyes sharp but warm.

Y/N shrugged, lifting her glass. “Water’s magic.”

He laughed softly, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “That what they say?”

“That’s what I say,” she said back, taking a sip.

Harry stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, closing the space between them. “You always this quick on your feet?”

“Occupational hazard,” she replied, her voice steady even as her pulse quickened.

“Impressive,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting her eyes again.

The shift in the air was palpable, like the pause before a storm. Y/N felt her breath hitch as he reached out, his hand brushing hers where she held the glass.

“You’re really hardworking y’know?,” he said softly, his voice dipping lower. “I like that.”

“Is that right?” she replied, arching a brow, her fingers still wrapped around the glass even as his lingered on hers.

“Yeah. Ambitious and..driven. It’s refreshing.”

She should’ve said something clever. She should’ve stepped back, put space between them. But instead, she stayed where she was, her gaze locked with his.

“I don’t think this is the kind of conversation most people have at this hour,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper.

Harry’s smile deepened, his dimples making a brief but devastating appearance. “Guess I’m not most people.”

And then he was closer, the glass forgotten as he set it down on the counter. His fingers brushed against her wrist, his touch featherlight, but it sent a spark racing up her arm.

“Is this usually how your late night kitchen runs go?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat blooming in her chest.

“Not really but I’ll make an exception.”

Y/N barely had time to process his words before he leaned in, his lips brushing hers. It was soft at first almost testing, but when she didn’t pull away, it deepened. His hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss grew hungrier.

She let the glass slip from her fingers, the sound of it landing on the counter distant and unimportant. Her hands found their way to his chest, the soft cotton of his shirt bunching beneath her fingers as she clung to him.Harry’s breath hitched as he pressed her back against the counter, his body warm and solid against hers. His hands explored her sliding from her waist to her hips then back up to her jaw.

Y/N’s hands fisted in his shirt pulling him closer, her body instinctively arching toward him as the cool counter pressed against her back. She felt the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric, the hard lines of his chest against her palms making her head spin.

He shifted slightly, his knee brushing against her leg as he slotted himself between her thighs. The motion was unhurried, but the weight of him was unmistakable. His hand slipped from her waist to her hip, his thumb pressing into the curve there, grounding her even as the heat between them grew.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured against her lips his voice low and gravelly, his breath hot against her skin.

Her response was immediate, her voice steady despite the way her pulse thundered. “I’m not telling you to stop.”

Harry pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his green eyes searching hers for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, his lips quirked into a crooked smile, one that made her stomach flip.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice a velvet promise.

His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, where he lingered nipping lightly at the sensitive skin there. Y/N’s head tilted back, a soft gasp escaping her as his hands slid under the hem of her shirt, his touch searing against her bare skin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice rough but steady, his fingers pausing just above her waistline.

“Yes” she breathed, her own hands trailing down his torso, brushing against the waistband of his sweatpants.

His hands slipped beneath her top, skimming over her waist and ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of her chest. He paused glancing at her, waiting for the slightest indication that she wanted him to stop.

When she arched into his touch instead, he let out a quiet groan his lips finding hers again as his hands moved higher, his thumbs brushing over her sensitive skin.

One of his hands trailed down her side, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants. He paused again, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “Still okay?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice firm, though her breath hitched as his hand slid lower, his fingers exploring with a confidence that left her dizzy.

Her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more of his touch, and Harry obliged, his movements slow and deliberate, as if savoring every reaction he pulled from her.

Harry’s lips were relentless his hands moving with practiced precision, sliding up under her pajama top to cup her breasts fully. His thumbs brushed over her hardened peaks, drawing a gasp from her. Her hips bucked against his instinctively the ache low in her belly becoming unbearable.

“Sensitive aren’t you?” he murmured. He dipped his head to her neck again, nipping the delicate skin, tugging her top up and over her head in one swift motion.

“You talk too much,” she shot back, her voice breathless but steady, her hands tugging at his shirt in retaliation.

He smirked, pulling back just enough to help her peel it off him, revealing the toned planes of his chest and the tattoos scattered across his skin. Her eyes lingered for a moment, taking him in.

Their mouths crashed together, all teeth and tongues now, their earlier teasing giving way to raw, unfiltered need.

Harry’s hands slid down her sides, hooking into the waistband of her pants and pulling them down in one smooth motion. His palms trailed back up her thighs, spreading them as he stepped between her legs again.

“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed, his voice low. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the counter, and the cool marble against her bare skin only heightened the heat pooling between her legs.

His fingers traced up her inner thigh. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of her, leaning in to press a kiss just below her ear. “So wet already,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

Her response was a whimper as his fingers began to circle her in slow, deliberate motions, teasing and testing what made her writhe against him. Her head fell back, her hands clutching at his shoulders for balance as her breathing grew ragged.

“Harry,” she gasped, her voice cracking on his name.

“That’s it, love,” he muttered, his lips traveling down her chest, his tongue flicking over a hardened peak before he took it into his mouth. His free hand gripped her waist to steady her as his fingers worked her over, building her higher and higher until she was on the edge.

“Please” she whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulders as her hips moved against his hand.

“What do you need?” he asked, his voice a low rasp as he pulled back just enough to look at her.

“You” she said simply, her gaze locking with his, her cheeks flushed and lips parted.

“Hold on,” he murmured, his voice rough but full of care.

She blinked up at him, her own breathing uneven, and watched as he stepped back slightly, his hands reluctantly leaving her body. He reached for his sweatpants, which had been discarded hastily on the floor, and pulled a small foil packet from one of the pockets.

“Just gotta be careful yeah?”, he smiles at her.

She watches him put the condom on and nods.

Harry gripped her thighs, pulling her against him. Their eyes stayed locked as he aligned himself with her, pausing just long enough to let her adjust to the feel of him.

The first thrust stole the air from her lungs, and Harry groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he began to move. His pace was measured at first, but it quickly became clear that neither of them was interested in restraint.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against her skin, his voice barely audible over their shared rhythm.

Her reply was incoherent, a mix of moans and whimpers as her release built to a breaking point.

You’re stunning,” he said, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them if he tried.

Y/N let out a small laugh, “Flattery gets you nowhere Harry.”

“Doesn’t feel like nowhere,” he countered, his hands gripping her thighs as he pulled her to the edge of the counter. “Feels like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, “God you’re so big..” he gripped her thighs to hold her steady. The sound of their bodies smacking together filled the kitchen, mingling with their ragged breaths and soft moans.

He pulled back, almost completely, before thrusting forward again pounding his cock deeper into her, the motion deliberate and slow. His hips snapping against hers with more urgency, each thrust driving deeper, harder. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room.

Her cries grew louder as she reached the edge, her body arching into him as the tension inside her snapped. Her release hit her like a tidal wave, leaving her shaking and clinging to him, her nails digging into his back.

Harry followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep a guttural groan escaping him as he came undone. His grip on her hips tightened, holding her close as he spilled into her, his body trembling with the force of it.

Their breaths mingled in the quiet of the kitchen, both of them still trembling slightly as they came down from the orgasm. Harry stayed close, his body pressed against hers, his hands gently smoothing over her sides as if grounding them both.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice soft and low, the usual cheeky edge replaced with genuine care.

Y/N nodded, her fingers brushing through the damp curls at the nape of his neck. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice still a little shaky. “You?”

“Better than okay” he said, pressing a tender kiss to her shoulder. He eased back, his green eyes scanning her face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

When he was satisfied, he carefully slipped away, helping her down from the counter. She wobbled slightly, and his hands were instantly at her waist, steadying her with a gentle smile.

She watched as he went to get a glass of water and a clean dish towel. Settling beside her, he handed her the glass, his hand resting lightly on her thigh.

“Drink,” he urged softly.

She took a sip, the cool water soothing against her throat. Meanwhile, Harry unfolded the towel, dampened with warm water, and began gently cleaning her up. His movements were tender his eyes flickering to hers every so often to make sure she was comfortable.

After a while, Y/N shifted slightly in Harry’s arms, reluctantly pulling herself upright. “I should probably... you know, head up,” she said softly, glancing toward the staircase.

Harry’s arms tightened around her for a moment before he let her go, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, probably a good idea,” he agreed, though the reluctance in his voice mirrored her own.

She stood, smoothing down her borrowed t-shirt, one of Sarah’s from earlier and glanced back at him as he leaned back against the couch. His hair was a mess of soft curls, his face flushed and glowing in the low light, and his sweatpants hung low on his hips. He looked far too good for someone who’d just spent the last hour being utterly wrecked.

He caught her staring and raised a brow, that effortless charm creeping back into his expression. “What? Already miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin. “Hardly,” she said, though the warmth in her voice gave her away.

Harry stood too, stretching slightly before stepping closer. “I’ll walk you up,” he offered, his voice softer now.

“I can manage,” she replied, but there was no real protest in her tone.

Together, they padded up the stairs, their bare feet barely making a sound on the wooden steps. The villa was quiet, save for the faint rustling of palm trees outside.

Soon it was the group’s last day at the villa. Y/N hadn’t stayed over every single night but the time she’d spent with them was savored by them all and they’d definitely miss her.

The late afternoon sun spilled through the villa’s open windows, casting golden light over the long dining table where Harry and his friends sat, their plates filled with the last meal Y/N had prepared for them. The air buzzed with lighthearted chatter and laughter, the group savoring both the food and the company.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Y/N,” Sarah said, setting her fork down with a satisfied sigh. “I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy a regular sandwich again.”

“Agreed” Mitch added, raising his glass in a silent toast to her.

Pauli leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin on his face. “What’s the secret? Is it the knife skills, the seasoning, or just pure magic?”

“Third one.” She responded while smiling as she made her way over to start to gather the plates.

Harry watched her from across the table, a soft smile playing on his lips. She moved with an effortless grace, her presence brightening the room just as much as the sunshine pouring in.

After lunch, the group lingered for a while, lounging on the couches and soaking up the last moments of their holiday. Eventually, though, the time came to start packing up, and the air grew tinged with the bittersweet weight of goodbyes.

Out on the front porch, their bags gathered near the waiting car, Sarah enveloped Y/N in a warm hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said earnestly. “You’ve been amazing.”

Pauli was next, wrapping Y/N in a dramatic bear hug that made her laugh. “If I’m ever in a food coma again, I’m blaming you,” he said, winking as he stepped back.

Finally, Harry stepped forward, his hands in his pockets and his smile soft but radiant. “They’re not wrong, you know,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve been incredible.”

“And you guys have all been lovely guests.” She replied.

Harry chuckled, pulling his phone from his pocket. “So, uh,” he started, holding it out to her. “Any chance I could get your number? For... you know, culinary emergencies.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but her smile widened as she took his phone and punched in her number. “Only if you promise not to text me at three in the morning asking for pancake recipes,” she said, handing it back to him.

“No promises,” he replied, his grin boyish and charming as he glanced down at his phone.

The car honked softly, breaking the moment, and Harry gave her a small, reluctant nod. “Guess that’s my cue,” he said, his voice tinged with regret.

“Guess so,” she replied, her chest tightening just a bit as he stepped back.

As the car pulled away, Y/N stood on the porch, waving as they disappeared down the winding drive. The villa felt quieter already, the absence of their lively energy palpable.

She glanced down at her phone, the screen lighting up with a new message: "Thanks again, Chef. Hope this isn’t goodbye."

A soft smile spread across her lips, and she typed out a quick reply: "Not goodbye. Just see you later."

[growingstories]

Gaming

David had always been a lazy short kid, not particularly fond of sports but his father pushed him in the college wrestling team. He never really thrived in but his short height made him look beefy very fast. When he wasn’t studying or at wrestling practice David played every videogame he could take his hands on. His father determination and the almost daily wrestling practice made him a beefy muscular student when he reached senior year. David was sporting a chiseled six-pack and impressively large chest and buff arms. His physical transformation earned him a spot among the popular crowd, although he was still the quiet, clever kid who sweated bullets whenever anyone spoke to him and never really spoke made friends. Upon graduating, David landed his dream job as a game tester at a leading video game company. His boss, Mr. Timmons, was a sweet-natured, jolly man who adored shy guys. Timmons saw immense potential in David's analytical skills and quick gameplay. David's first few weeks at the company were blissful; the office was like an adult playground with gyms, tantalizing restaurants, coffee bars, and sprawling playrooms equipped with lounge chairs. David loved routine and stuck to his 9-to-5 schedule and made it a point to hit the gym daily as he was used in college. He also loved the informal atmosphere and could walk around all day in his fitness wear.

Recognition came swiftly, and David was promoted within a few months. His new role involved discussing innovative game formats, which meant longer meetings and less time for gym sessions. David found himself confined to his chair for hours on end, immersed in gaming mazes and user experience discussions. The chefs at the office prepared rich, delicious protein-packed meals, furthering David's muscle gain. His shirts started to feel increasingly snug, but the added mass felt like an accomplishment as he started to really beef up.

A highly addictive game project came along, and David was tasked to test it extensively. He devoted himself to marathon 16-hour sessions. Mr. Timmons, noticing David's determined fatigue, checked in frequently, bringing generous portions of food and drink. The first day David willingly accepted, but as days turned into a week, he found himself relying on the constant stream of rich meals to fuel his extended play hours. The game testing finished well, but David's usual gym routine was long forgotten. He struggled to fit into his jeans, and the sedentary lifestyle started showing visible signs.

The longer hours became the norm, with more complex projects demanding more of David’s time and attention. But he managed to get in a few gym sessions during the week. Combined with endless plates of pasta, succulent steaks, and calorific desserts delivered by the company chefs his appearance got even beefier. Bigger chest, bigger arms but his abs were also completely covered by a round layer of fat. Despite the strains on his waistband and the occasional puffing after climbing a flight of stairs, David felt a strange contentment in his new role—mainly because Mr. Timmons was incessantly encouraging, often accompanying him during meals.

David began to notice the gradual evolution of his body too; his snug shirts were now actively straining against his expanding midsection, and he was always short on breath after a short walk down the hallway. Laundry day meant grappling with clothes, trying to wriggle into pants that felt two sizes too small. He moved up to larger, "comfier" attire but didn't pay much heed, assuming it was just a phase and at work he only wears stretchy gym wear.

One night, while deeply engrossed in binge eating a triple-decker burger and fries, followed by a chocolate fudge sundae prepared at the office dining, he felt something strange. He found himself increasingly craving these calorie-laden meals, indulging in a cycle of eating and gaming, with almost no movement in between. The once hard-earned muscle now ebbed away, covered under layers of fat. His reflection in his favorite gym mirrors showed a softer, rounder David staring back.

Weekends at home became a blur of pizzas, sodas, and gaming marathons. The evolution of his frame made everyday activities increasingly laborious. Simple acts like climbing the stairs to his apartment often left him sweating and gasping for air. Mr. Timmons, who enjoyed seeing David's transformation, would often join him for movie nights filled with snacks, leading to intimate discussions about game ideas while unabashedly gorging. Even at work, David's sedentary lifestyle prompted additional changes as he moved less and ate more. His desk was often cluttered with empty snack bags, soda cans, and food containers. Where once he sought respite in the gym, he now sank into comfortable lounge chairs between gameplay sessions, indulging in quick naps coated in the lethargy of a full stomach.

One particularly tiring day, David, increasingly overwhelmed by his bulk, sat down on the lobby bench. He bent over to tie his shoes, only to realize he could barely reach them. His belly, now more pronounced than his chest, got in the way, causing him to sweat profusely. Mr. Timmons walked by and noticed David’s struggle. Instead of scolding him, he helped David with his shoelaces, patting him comfortingly on the back.

Feeling a mixture of embarrassment and unexpected satisfaction, David leaned back and smiled. He's transformed far beyond his fit, high school self to an obese but weirdly content game tester. For the first time, he felt a peculiar happiness in his job environment—an acceptance not just from his boss but from himself. Timmons pitched a new a concept to David. The concept was that during work hours David would do live online game testing and Q&A with gaming fans. David loved the idea, he was able to share his knowledge without interacting with people but also keep trying out new games. The first few sessions were a success. But also a challenge as they kept on going as the fans kept interacting. Timmons saw this and ordered staff to bring snacks and drinks to his hungry talent.

The fans loved the concept and it became a bigger community. They started requesting specific games of concepts to test and review. And David loved his new challenge. Timmons made sure that David had everything he needed during the sessions. It almost became and endless eating session during the live sessions. David’s weight really started to explode now. Even the viewers saw this and started mentioning his gains. David addressed the concerns during his sessions but shrugged it off and told the viewers not to worry, he liked to feel big as he always been a short kid.

The company started to offer private sessions with David too where the could ask questions about individual problems during their own gaming sessions. This really lifted off as this boosted the revenue even more. David got big bonusses and was happy to do a few private sessions at night extra. Most sessions were just asking guidance at difficult game levels but some were personal. Questions about his favorite snacks, or if he would still workout. But also his bench press and squat records. David liked this and replied as much a he could. Some challenged him to see if he could still lift heavy weight or even do a pull up. David decided to do a live session from the gym. The amount of viewers was insane. He started of strong and he was still able to get in a few push ups and squat a nice amount of weight but benching was difficult. When trying to do a pull up he failed terribly, he couldn't even do one. He was breathing heavy and already started sweating. He whiped off his head with his shirt, showing his bloated bulging belly, forgetting that he was live. The fans went crazy and started requesting more. After weeks of live sessions and eating everything in sight he was again bigger.

He now often did gym challenges, resulting in growing more as his muscle memory made his muscle bulge out fast on his short body amd within weeks he was back at his old strength level. Not only did the viewers like the sessions but some asked to send his favorite food to have him eat it live. Or food challenges, they challenged him to eat massive portions. David didn’t really think much of it as long as Timmons was happy. And Timmons was. He loved his golden boy bringing in big bucks no matter what it takes. Even if David got bigger and bigger and bigger.

[paddockbunny]

Fraternisation Clause

Summary : Working for McLaren is hard, being Lando’s PR girl is even harder….so maybe you need to make a tough decision that will be even harder yet Rating : 16+ Pairing: Lando x Reader Word Count : 1474 words Trigger Warnings : language but clean Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : there are probably a few bits in here that aren’t exactly how things are in the actual paddock / McLaren hierarchy so just ignore it and take it for the work of fiction it is ☺️

Abu Dhabi ‘23

It was time to go. You knew that. Everything you could accomplish in your role, you had. The opportunity being offered to you was too great to pass up and if you were honest the move truly excited (and somewhat scared) you. But, it was a step up the ladder and it was a ladder that you really wanted to climb. As you swiped your credentials on the paddock barriers you saw your colleagues and friends awaiting you. Leaving them all behind was exceptionally tough as really, you had all become a little family. You enjoyed pizza nights, drunken karaoke, practical jokes and laughter and tears with them during your four year tenure. As they looked at you with a mixture of smiles and pouting lips it really hit you how tough it was to be leaving and even worse how you wouldn’t be a part of the gang anymore. For twenty four weeks of the year you guys were going to be in the exact same place and yet not be as close anymore. It was such a bittersweet feeling. But, you remembered as some of your new team mates walked past in their crisp white shirts, when Mercedes come a calling, you answer the call.

The night sky was illuminated by an array of bright explosions of colour as fireworks crescendoed overhead. You were already down awaiting Lando to begin media duties so couldn’t really engage in the end of session celebrations like you would have liked. But still it was nice to imagine the pretty illuminations overhead were all for you.

As you waited for Lando to be weighed and take his helmet and balaclava off you couldn’t help but smile. He finished P5 and P7 in the overall standings. An excellent effort and he could be extremely proud he equalled himself for the previous 22 season - considering how tough the car had been, it was fantastic. It had been a long, sometimes stressful, crazy ride being Lando Norris’ PR officer but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t enjoyed every single last millisecond of it. At the start you had an immature, slightly naive guy who matured into a funny, charismatic, caring man. You smirked knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him working with you at the start either. You weren’t as regimented as you had become and he was often late, missing caps or passes, he even got fined for being late to the national anthem ceremony once because you forgot to fetch him, but you were fresh out of university and learning right along side him. It was a baptism of fire and you loved it. And honestly, you couldn’t have imagined anyone else being your F1 virginity stealer.

However, as you waited for him and reminisced you felt overcome by a horrible sadness. See you thought Lando would have been happy for you to move on and be promoted - go on to bigger better things - but he wasn’t. After accepting Mercedes offer and putting in your formal notice, Lando was the first person you told and boy, it did go well. He immedietly told you you were doing the wrong thing and joining Mercedes wasn’t the right move. He passionately attempted to deter you from moving and even got angry when you tried to calm him down. You had never before seen Lando upset like what he was that night - sure during a race or whatnot but that was because he was competitive - So it was totally unexpected. He asked if it were the pay making you leave and even offered to pay you more from his own wages (which insulted you). He asked if you were being forced out, if something had happened with another member of the team (which it hadn’t). Then he asked if it was because you didn’t want to work with him anymore and it caught somewhere in your throat.

If this had been ‘22 you would haven’t hesitated to laugh at the insinuation and make a quip about him being cocksure of himself. But it wasn’t. It was the end of 2023 and you knew yourself things had shifted between the pair of you. In the past 12 months Lando and you had come close to blurring the professional lines and you were able to realise how dangerous that truly was. Nothing had ever happened that could have been considered inappropriate but you couldn’t be one hundred percent you didn’t want it too. And that was what scared you. McLaren had an employee fraternisation clause which clearly stated that employees could not carry out romantic or sexual relationships between other employees particularly those where one employee is in a higher up position. And it didn’t take the brain of Britain to know Lando was their “star” and you were just another foot soldier. There was no way they would keep you over their superstar driver. And besides, it was known amongst the PR team that Lando had a little thing for you as way back as 2020 when you first started working with him but you had always laughed it off, rolled you eyes and played it down.

“He’s just a kid, don’t be daft” you would be heard quipping back. But for some reason, after the prior year, you spend the season pretending you didn’t know he was staring at you, that he was making you laugh on purpose, that he was finding any reason to touch you, be close to you and even invite you to things without anyone else from the team being there. You knew it would only be a matter of time before Lando would try to move things in a different direction - in particular, you knew he would do something stupid like try and kiss you and you would do something even more stupid and kiss him back.

So you walked away. You took the call and accepted the Mercedes offer of becoming a PR Manager (instead of PR officer). You had thought about it at length, toiled over it. And while you knew he might not understand why, you thought he would still be happy for you. You hadn’t expected the attitude he had shown to you over the course of the past three races. The silence, the grunting for responses, not even looking at you as you were talking to him.

You looked up to find him almost in front of you as the fireworks continued overhead. He held out his hand for his water bottle and little bag full of promotional bracelets and watch. “Well done, it’s been a good year.” You tried to tell him but he either didn’t hear you from the loud bangs and the start of the podium celebrations or he was deliberately ignoring you. You swallowed, wishing this was all different. You really could do with a Lando hug right now but as you started off toward the media pen, neither of you said a word to each other. And then after media he announced he had a plane waiting so he wouldn’t be hanging around. You wanted to remind him you were leaving and it was your last day so it would mean a lot if he could hang around for just 10 minutes but before you could muster up the courage to do it, he ducked into his drivers room while you were busy on a call and that was it. You looked for him to say goodbye (at bare minimum) and wish him a happy holidays but he was gone. He didn’t care. He didn’t even want to be your friend anymore.

Things were being wrapped up. Everyone was excited to get going. People wanted to party, celebrate the end of another year. They wanted to call their families and say they would be home soon and make plans for their time off. So when you walked into the McLaren hospitality suite to a riotous round of applause and hollering you were left a gasp and the tears started flowing. You hadn’t expected anyone outside of your small little trackside PR team to care you were off, but that was downright idiotic to think they would let you slink off. That wasn’t McLarens style. But still you didn’t expect all the hullabaloo. The room was packed with different people across each discipline. The mechanics you knew were there, the strat guys, chefs from the kitchens, office folk and even Zak was standing front and centre. So many people across the whole garage came to say goodbye. There was a cake and a “Bon voyage” banner. Your smile erupted across your face as your friends came rushing toward you to engulf you in a huge hug. The earlier sadness due to your strained friendship with Lando was pushed straight to the back of your mind. Right now, you felt special. You felt loved.

You couldn’t help but wish Lando was here too. You wished he had stayed to say goodbye.

[encrucijada]

lipstick is included within the bounds of "dreamthings". aka adam sometimes wakes up with blue lip prints on him from... 😏

a list of ongoing moments

adam beating a dream half to death with a crowbar as an interrogation method