#look at my bio . expect nothing less���

[erial-c]

as a result of me looking at redacted merch , i made a few merch designs/concepts of my own !!

i wanted them to be just discrete (..ish) enough that they can be worn casually but are still recognizable !! obviously just my takes on merch, nothing serious (i have no clue whether anyone else wld actually like these) i jst had a fun time making these hehehehe

[theonottsbxtch]

HONEST | LN4

an: this is dedicated to the anon who noticed my bio and saw i loved honest by the nbhd, it inspired me to write something based off of it <3

wc: 3.5k

summary: lando and his girlfriend keep going back to each other despite her numerous attempts to get him to open up, what happens when she finally has enough.

The night was alive with the hum of possibility, the city draped in neon light and the buzz of distant traffic. She sat cross-legged on the floor of her cramped university apartment, a half-finished canvas propped up against the wall, colors bleeding together in a way that made her frown. Her fingers were smudged with paint, her hair twisted into a loose knot that threatened to unravel with every frustrated exhale.

Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification: “Lando Norris finishes P2 at Hungary Grand Prix.”

She hesitated before swiping it away. The world might have celebrated second place, but she knew him better. For Lando, second was nothing more than a public failure.

The knock at her door came minutes later, sharp and deliberate, like him. She didn’t need to check who it was.

When she opened it, there he stood, still in the McLaren jacket with the logo stitched across his chest. His dark hair clung to his forehead, and his jaw was set in that stubborn line she knew too well. He smelled like engine oil and exhaustion, and she couldn’t decide if the ache in her chest was for him or the weight he always carried.

“You’re here,” she said, the words soft, more observation than greeting.

“I needed to see you.” His voice was low, barely audible over the sound of her radiator ticking in the background.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating? Champagne showers and all that?” she asked, stepping aside to let him in.

“I didn’t win.”

She closed the door behind him, watching as he moved to her window, his silhouette framed by the city lights outside. He didn’t sit, didn’t even take off his jacket. He just stood there, the tension radiating from him like heat from a burning track.

“You came in second,” she said carefully, crossing her arms as she leaned against the door. “That’s not nothing.”

“It’s not first,” he snapped, his voice sharper than he meant. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I just—”

“You don’t have to explain,” she interrupted, her tone softer now. She was getting used to this.

But he shook his head, turning to face her. “I do. You don’t get it. The team made me and I know I shouldn’t have kicked up a fuss but I’ve been working my ass off. Oscar doesn’t deserve this bullshit but I’m so close—”

“Lando,” she said, cutting him off again. “You’ve done this before. You’ll do it again. But it’s never about the race, is it?”

He stared at her, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to find the words.

“It’s not enough,” he finally said. “No matter what I do, I’m never enough.”

Her throat tightened at the familiar refrain. She’d heard it before—in the way he avoided eye contact when he talked about his expectations, in the way he deflected her compliments like they were a nuisance. She stepped closer, her arms unfolding as she reached for his hand.

“It’s enough for me,” she said softly.

For a moment, she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. His hand was cold, trembling slightly against hers. He looked at her like he wanted to believe her, like he wanted her words to be true.

“You don’t get it,” he said again, quieter this time. “I don’t know how to be okay with less. I don’t know how to stop chasing.”

“Then stop chasing,” she said, her voice firm. “Just… stay. For once, just stay.”

He closed his eyes, the weight of the words hanging between them. When he opened them again, she saw the cracks in his armour, the vulnerability he fought so hard to hide.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

The words stung, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “Then figure it out. I can’t do it for you, Lando. I can’t keep filling in the spaces you leave blank.”

The silence stretched, heavy and uncertain, until he finally nodded, a small, reluctant gesture.

She didn’t know if it meant he would stay, or if it was just another moment in the long cycle of him crashing into her life and pulling away again. But for now, it was enough.

“Come on,” she said, leading him to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll make tea.”

And as she moved to the kitchen, he sank into the cushions, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. He watched her from across the room, and for the first time that night, he allowed himself to breathe.

The tea kettle whistled, a sharp note cutting through the quiet tension. She poured the hot water into two mismatched mugs, her movements slow, deliberate. Every sound—the clink of the spoon, the soft rush of liquid—felt amplified in the silence that stretched between them.

Lando sat hunched forward on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. His head was bowed like he was waiting for something to break, or maybe trying to hold it all together.

When she placed a mug in front of him, he looked up, offering her the smallest nod of thanks. She sat beside him, tucking her legs beneath her. The couch was old, the cushions sagging, forcing them closer than either might have chosen in that moment.

“I used to think art was about perfection,” she said, staring into her tea. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability, like she wasn’t sure where the words would take her.

He turned his head toward her, waiting.

“When I started studying, I wanted to control every detail, every brushstroke,” she continued. “I thought if I just worked hard enough, it would all come together the way I imagined. But no matter how much I tried, it always felt… wrong. Like something was missing.”

He didn’t reply, but his gaze stayed on her, heavy with unspoken questions.

“I realised it wasn’t about getting it perfect. It was about letting the imperfections in, letting the chaos fill the spaces. That’s what makes it real. That’s what makes it art.”

Lando exhaled, a slow, almost shaky breath. “You think I should just let chaos into my life?”

“I think it’s already there,” she said gently. “You’re just pretending it isn’t.”

He laughed, a short, bitter sound. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not. But what you’re doing isn’t easy either, is it? Beating yourself up every time you don’t hit perfection? Trying to control everything, even things you can’t?”

Lando stared into his tea, the steam curling upward like a ghost of his thoughts. “When you’re on the track,” he began, his voice low, “everything depends on precision. One mistake, one miscalculation, and it’s over. You don’t just lose the race—you crash. You burn.”

She didn’t interrupt, letting him work through the words that seemed to take more effort than any lap he’d ever driven.

“That’s what my life is. Corners and braking zones and split-second decisions. If I let chaos in…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You’re not on the track right now,” she said softly.

His head turned sharply toward her, his expression unreadable.

“I know you don’t think you can stop,” she continued, her eyes meeting his. “But you’re not just a driver, Lando. You’re a person. And people aren’t built to live like that all the time.”

He looked at her for a long moment, the walls in his eyes flickering, wavering. Then he leaned back against the couch, his shoulders slumping as if he’d finally allowed himself to feel the weight of it all.

“You make it sound like I have a choice,” he murmured.

“You do,” she said. “But you have to be brave enough to take it.”

He huffed out a humorless laugh. “Bravery. That’s funny, coming from you.”

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the one who made us go on break last time,” he said, the words sharper than he intended. “You couldn’t stick around when things got hard.”

She flinched, the accusation landing like a slap. But she didn’t look away. “I didn’t leave because it was hard. I left because you wouldn’t let me in. You let me see pieces of you, but never the whole thing. And I can’t keep guessing at who you are.”

The air between them felt thick, charged with everything they’d never said.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly.

She reached for his hand, her fingers brushing his knuckles. “Then try. That’s all I’ve ever asked.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, his hand turned, his fingers intertwining with hers.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

Her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile. “You never lost me, Lando. But I can’t be the one holding us together anymore.”

He nodded, a tiny, almost imperceptible motion. It wasn’t a promise, not yet. But it was something.

The next race that went to shit for him was Baku.

The door to her London apartment creaked open, and Lando stepped inside, his bag slung over one shoulder. His face was a map of exhaustion—dark circles under his eyes, his jawline shadowed with stubble. The scent of jet fuel and rubber seemed to cling to him, a remnant of the race he’d just returned from.

She was sitting at her desk, the glow of her laptop illuminating her face as she worked on an assignment. The sound of the door closing made her glance over her shoulder. Her expression softened for a moment, then grew guarded, like she was bracing for impact.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice neutral.

“I’m back,” he echoed. He dropped his bag in the corner and rubbed a hand over his face, his fingers lingering at his temples. “How’s your week been?”

“Fine,” she said, turning back to her screen. “Yours?”

He let out a dry laugh as he collapsed onto the couch. “Do you want the press-conference version or the real one?”

She swiveled her chair to face him fully, her arms crossed. “The real one, obviously.”

He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as if the words were caught in his throat. Finally, he shrugged. “It was fine. Finished P4. Made a stupid mistake in qualifying, couldn’t recover. Typical.”

She frowned, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

She stood, crossing the room to sit on the armchair across from him. “I don’t know, Lando. Maybe something real? Maybe talk to me like I’m more than just an audience for your race recap?”

He looked at her, startled by the sharpness in her tone. “I am talking to you.”

“No, you’re not,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “You’re telling me what you think I want to hear. You’ve been doing that since the moment we got back together.”

He sat up straighter, his brows furrowing. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair?” she repeated, incredulous. “Lando, we’ve been stuck in the same pattern for months. You come back, you barely say anything real, and then you leave again. We took a break because you said you’d try, and nothing has changed.”

“That’s not true,” he argued, his voice rising defensively.

“Then tell me what’s true,” she countered. “Tell me what’s actually going on in your head, because I don’t know anymore.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.

“See?” she said, throwing her hands up. “This is what I mean. I’m sitting here, begging you to let me in, and you’re just… shutting down. Again.”

“It’s not that simple,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, it is,” she said, her frustration boiling over. “It’s as simple as you deciding whether or not you actually want me in your life. Because I can’t keep sacrificing myself for you if you’re not willing to meet me halfway.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to respond. But he didn’t. He just stared at the floor, his hands clasped tightly together.

Her voice softened, trembling slightly. “We need to break up. For real this time.”

His head snapped up, panic flashing across his face. “No. Please, don’t do this. I can do better, I promise. Just—”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I’ve heard that before. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure this out while I’m breaking myself apart trying to hold us together.”

“Please,” he said again, his voice desperate.

But then something shifted. His shoulders sagged, the fight leaving him all at once. He let out a long, shaky breath and finally met her eyes.

“Okay,” he said, the word soft but resolute.

She froze, her heart skipping a beat. She had expected resistance, pleading, anger—but not this.

“Okay?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. “You’re right. I don’t know how to give you what you need. And I don’t think I ever will.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of his words cutting deeper than any argument ever could.

“I’m sorry,” he added, standing and grabbing his bag. He hesitated at the door, his hand on the knob. “I hope… I hope you find someone who can.”

And just like that, he was gone.

She sat there for a long time, staring at the closed door, the echo of his and her words ringing in her ears. She had gotten what she’d asked for, but it didn’t feel like a victory. It felt like the quiet hollow left after something breaks.

The weeks after he walked out passed in a blur of quiet moments and restless nights. Her apartment felt bigger, somehow emptier, though his presence had always been fleeting. At first, she moved through the days mechanically: attending lectures, working on assignments, and scrolling mindlessly through her phone when she couldn’t concentrate.

That was how she saw the first video.

It popped up on her social media feed one evening—a clip of Lando during a post-race interview. He stood with the same calm precision he always carried, his dark eyes serious as he talked about tire degradation and strategy.

But she noticed the way his jaw tightened when the reporter mentioned the championship battle. The way he rubbed the back of his neck when he thought no one was watching. The things only she would have picked up on.

She swiped away from the video quickly, her heart hammering in her chest.

For days after, more videos surfaced. Clips of him on the podium, the national anthem playing in the background. Snippets of races where he pushed through the pack with surgical precision. Even candid moments, fans catching him as he signed autographs with a tight, practiced smile.

She didn’t go looking for them, but they seemed to find her anyway.

Part of her wanted to stop watching. Every video felt like a small knife twisting in her chest. But another part of her—the part that still woke up some mornings thinking about the weight of his hand in hers—couldn’t look away.

And then there was the guilt. The nagging voice in her head that whispered she could have done more, been more, stayed longer. That maybe if she’d held on just a little tighter, he wouldn’t have slipped away.

But the rational part of her knew better. She couldn’t keep sacrificing herself for someone who wouldn’t let her in. She couldn’t keep living in the spaces he refused to fill.

Throwing herself into her work became her salvation. She spent hours in her studio, her fingers smudged with paint and charcoal, her mind racing with ideas.

Her project started as a simple concept: inner thoughts, the things we hide from the world. But the more she worked, the more it grew, expanding into something bigger than anything she’d ever created.

The centerpiece was a massive installation—an abstract figure built from fragmented mirrors, wires, and twisted metal. Each shard reflected something different: colors that didn’t match, faces distorted in impossible ways. Surrounding the figure were interactive panels where viewers could write their own hidden thoughts, projected onto the walls in real-time.

It wasn’t just art; it was a conversation. A reflection of the unspoken truths that lived in everyone.

Her professor was floored when she presented it during a critique. “This is… remarkable,” he said, circling the model she’d built as he spoke. “It’s raw, vulnerable. It demands engagement.”

She flushed under the praise but nodded, unsure what to say.

“You need to exhibit this,” the professor continued. “There’s an upcoming gallery in Monte Carlo—prestigious, international attendance. I’ll submit your work.”

Monte Carlo.

Her stomach tightened at the name. She thought of glitzy hotels, sharp corners, and the sound of engines echoing through narrow streets. Of Lando, and the apartment she’d only been to a few times.

But she nodded again. “Okay,” she said.

And that was how she found herself in Monaco.

The gallery hummed with conversation, the din blending with the soft background music that played over hidden speakers. She was standing near the wine table, engaged in a lively discussion with an older couple who were gushing about her work.

“It’s so… visceral,” the woman said, gesturing animatedly with her glass of champagne. “It feels like you’ve captured something universal but deeply personal at the same time. Like it’s speaking directly to me.”

Her lips curved into a polite smile. “That’s exactly what I hoped for,” she said.

As she explained the inspiration behind the installation, the doors to the gallery opened again, and Lando walked in.

He wore a crisp suit, his usual casual edge replaced by something sharper, more formal. The team required his attendance. His hair was nicely curled, and his presence was magnetic, commanding subtle glances from attendees who didn’t recognise him but knew he must be someone important.

Lando’s gaze swept the room, searching, but her back was to him. She was too engrossed in her conversation to notice the way his shoulders stiffened when he saw the installation—or the way his expression softened when he realised it was hers.

He approached the centerpiece quietly, his hands in his pockets as he took it all in. The mirrored figure seemed to hold his gaze, fragments of his reflection staring back at him. His attention moved to the interactive panels, where dozens of anonymous confessions lit up the walls.

“I’m afraid of being alone forever.”“I miss the person I was before them.”“I don’t know how to move on.”

Lando stood there for a long moment, his chest tightening as he read the words. Finally, he stepped closer to one of the blank panels and picked up the stylus.

He hesitated, the pen hovering just above the screen, before he began to write:

"I wish I could have been honest.”

He paused, then added something small, something only she would understand:

4♡

It was the way he’d signed every note he’d left for her. Scrawled on Post-its stuck to the bathroom mirror. On napkins tucked into her lunch bag. On the inside cover of a sketchbook he’d bought her. It had always been their little secret, a shorthand for everything he couldn’t say out loud.

Lando stepped back, his throat tight. He cast one last glance around the room, his eyes lingering on her as she laughed softly at something the older man said. Then he turned and walked out, unnoticed.

The crowd thinned as the night wore on, and the gallery grew quieter. She stood alone now, gazing at her installation with a mixture of pride and exhaustion. The panels were almost completely filled with confessions, their glowing words painting the walls in a kaleidoscope of emotion.

She walked up to the nearest panel, scrolling through the entries. Some were poignant, others painfully raw. But one stopped her in her tracks.

"I wish I could have been honest.”

Her breath hitched as her eyes darted to the small signature below it.

4♡

Her hand flew to her mouth, a tremor running through her as she stared at the words. For a moment, she thought she might have imagined it. But no—there it was, unmistakable.

A wave of emotions crashed over her: shock, sadness, and a deep, aching tenderness that she had tried so hard to bury.

She sank onto a nearby bench, tears slipping down her cheeks.

She thought of him standing here, reading her work, writing those words. The quiet acknowledgment of everything left unsaid between them. And the small, stubborn piece of him that still lingered in her world, no matter how far apart they were.

She wiped her tears, but they kept coming, her chest heaving as the weight of it all settled over her.

For the first time in weeks, she allowed herself to feel the full depth of her loss. But alongside the grief was something else—a fragile, flickering sense of closure.

He had been here. He had seen her, her work, her heart laid bare. And he had left her a piece of himself, as he always had.

It wasn’t enough to fix what had broken. But maybe, just maybe, it was enough to let her begin to heal.

the end.

[sister-lucifer]

can we get gross pervy dom toby content 🙏

Some Gross Pervy Dom Toby Content 

Toby Rogers x Gender Neutral Reader

Genre: NSFW 

Summary: There is really no plot to be summarized, Toby’s just a horndog and he chased you down. good fuckin luck  

Content/Warnings: Dubcon/Noncon elements, implied stalking, horror elements, Toby being creepy, Toby smells you and touches you in the weirdest manner you can possibly imagine, NSFW with minimal (mostly implied) plot, no real sex happens just fucked up shit, no seriously this is nasty as fuck i’m getting put on a list for this 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Just to avoid confusion, in my headcanon Toby has a stutter as well as but separate from his tourette’s; i’m writing his stutter, not his tics! thankies!

also READ THE FUCKING WARNINGS THIS ONE IS NASTY

Staring down the barrel of a loaded gun would fill you with less dread than staring up at the lanky boy who’s currently towering over you. 

You don’t have to look at him to know there’s a twisted smile filled with crooked, chipped teeth spread across his face, hazel eyes scrunched at the corners as he grins like a madman. You don’t want to look at him, really, but you can’t stop yourself before you’re slowly craning your neck to see. Slowly his face comes into view, and it’s even more unsettling than you could prepare for. 

His messy brown hair flicks up in all directions and partly obscures his eyes, and yet they seem to glow in the dim light of the sunset. One of his arms is above you, folded against the wall, while the other cages you into the corner. Besides his fingers drumming restlessly, he’s not moving, but his entire body is trembling with….excitement? His chest is heaving like he’s struggling to breathe, and the uncomfortable feeling of his warm exhale fanning over your face makes you shudder, and…oh god, is he drooling over you? Shit—

You press yourself hard against the wall, face burning hot against the cool air of the drafty abandoned building. Something tells you you shouldn’t take your eyes off of him for too long, but in your peripheral vision you can see through the broken windows. There’s nothing but trees in all directions, and the sky is rapidly darkening with each passing second. You’re watching any chance you had of escaping in the daylight slip from your fingers. Everything is becoming much too disorienting much too fast, thoughts racing and overlapping and screaming at you to do something, but you can’t. All at once you’re trying to figure out an escape plan, how to appease your captor for long enough to execute an escape plan, and how you even got here in the first place. 

The last thing you remember is running from him, the branches of the thicket grabbing at your pants and arms as if trying to hold you back. You had no choice but to run into the old hospital, but now you’re wishing you’d simply kept going. 

You must’ve moved too much for Toby’s liking, because he suddenly grabs onto your arm with a grip that feels strong enough to snap the bone in two. You yelp in pain, a second gloved hand quickly clamping over your mouth. The echo of your cry rings loud in your ears, and for a moment you wonder if it’ll ever go quiet again. 

“You…you…” Toby stutters, and your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. You aren’t sure what you were expecting to hear, but he just sounds so…normal, like any other nineteen year old boy, except if it were anyone else in any other scenario a mere couple of syllables wouldn’t strike such fear into you. 

“You ran a loooong t-time…” He scolds, but his grin doesn’t falter. He brings his hand away from your mouth to shake a finger at you, seemingly trusting you not to scream. 

Not like it would matter. You made him chase you pretty far in. 

In an instant his hands are on your waist, slipping under your shirt and eagerly grabbing at the soft flesh he finds beneath. You have to bite your tongue to hold back another yelp. 

“Oh, ooohh but it w-was worth it!” Toby slurs with a drawl, “I’ve f-finally fooouund yooouu, aha…” 

He sounds so proud of himself. Something about his tone is almost childish, deceivingly so. He truly thinks he’s done something amazing. 

Your heart skips a beat when he suddenly freezes, face going void of all emotion, and you wonder if you’ve truly angered him. If you did, would that be the mistake that ended it all? 

Fortunately, it seems he was just changing gears. You panic when you realize he’s leaning in towards you, but he moves past your face to practically bury his nose in your neck, taking a long and deep breath. He lets out a faint laugh as he breathes out, and it feels like a horrible sensation crawling down your spine. The only thing you can do is grab onto his arms, nails digging into the dirty and worn fabric of his hoodie. It’s practically caked with dried mud in some areas and you can feel the dry cracking beneath your hands. 

“I m-missed your…your s-smell…” Toby whispers. You’re confused for a moment, and it takes a few seconds for it all to set in. 

‘Missed?’ 

He’d…smelled you before? 

He ‘missed’ you… 

“I-I should have…should have visited m-more…I-I got ssso busy, b-but I didn’t forget you, I-I promise…” 

He keeps talking, but it starts to fade out. Only a few words matter, anyways. 

There’s an incredibly brief moment of clarity that flashes through your mind, a split second flicker of understanding that you hadn’t just been misplacing or losing things, that you weren’t imagining all those noises or shadows that you told yourself were childish things to be afraid of, and it nearly floods your brain before it disappears as quickly as it appeared. Maybe you purposefully pushed it out, at least for now. There was too much going on to process the past. If you were lucky enough to get out of this alive, you could reflect then. 

You’re frozen for a few moments as Toby’s idle hands begin to wander, as they always do. He’s at least considerate enough to feel you up through your clothes, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth when he roughly gropes your ass. It forces you to push yourself into him as you try to get away from the aggressive grip. You can feel him laugh with his chest pressed flush against yours. 

He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, and it’s become painfully obvious that he’s much stronger than he looks. You’d never expect someone so skinny to be able to manhandle you like this. 

He sways slowly from side to side as he holds you, one unsteady hand toying with your hair in a gesture that, on Toby’s end, seems as though it is meant to be sincere. 

“Th-There’s so much I want t-to do to y— to do with y-you…so little time…” He goes on muttering to himself over something or other, but you can’t understand him as he trails off. 

He seems preoccupied with his own thoughts, distracted enough that you begin to squirm. He doesn’t react, continuing to quietly rant about nothing while stroking your head. You struggle again, a bit bolder this time. Nothing. 

Maybe you actually had a chance, you just had to slip away. Hell, maybe you’d get lucky and run the right way on the first try; for all you know you’re only a mile away from a highway, that could be your lifeline. You just had to slip away— 

“Stop it! Stop doing that!” 

…Easier said than done, it seems. 

Hearing Toby yell, seemingly allowing a genuine flash of anger to overtake him as he slams you back against the wall, chills you to the core. He was unpredictable, bouncing back and forth between the extremes of whatever emotion he was feeling, making it impossible to plan around his potential actions. 

His hand splays out across your chest to keep you pinned to the wall. He’s applying much more pressure than he needs to, and he knows it. His smile twitches as you struggle to recover from having the wind knocked out of you. 

When he reaches back for his pocket, you expect him to pull out a weapon; maybe a knife, or even a small handgun you somehow hadn’t noticed. 

But no. He returns with something much smaller, and your brows furrow in confusion as you struggle to make out the shape among the shadows that have quickly taken over your space. 

“What’s t-the matter?” Toby asks, “Never seen a-a condom before?”

He snickers cruelly at the way your mouth hangs open in reply. 

“Whaaaat? I-I’m trying to be nice…don’t be a bitch.” 

“N…Nice?!” You choke out in reply, and this time Toby’s jaw drops. 

“Oh, it does speak!” He exclaims with genuine excitement. “Good, good…s-so good…” 

He holds the corner of the wrapper in his mouth so that his hand can be free to fumble with his belt. The sound of the buckle clanking as he slips it off makes your stomach flip. Your gaze flicks quickly back and forth from his pants back to his eyes, and he hasn’t stopped staring at you. You haven’t even seen him blink. 

His tongue runs over his glistening teeth as he prepares to speak again: 

“I h-hope you squeal for me, pretty thing…When we’re done here, I’m t-takin’ you with me…” 

[fallatyourfeet]

Empty Promises (Tommy X Wife Reader) One-shot

Summary: Tommy can be a cruel man sometimes, but YN still loves him.

Word count: 746

Warnings: Nothing really.

A/N: This is my first fic in a long long time. It's short but hopefully sweet.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

“Tommy, you promised”. Standing at the empty desk of his Arrow House study, you held the telephone receiver to your ear staring at your reflection in the window. It was so dark outside that the pane of glass worked perfectly as a mirror. You looked good. Really good. Beautiful even. Exhaling silently, your eyes dropped to the rug beneath your favourite pair of heels. It felt like forever since you had a reason to put on a beautiful dress and powder your nose. And after countless empty promises from Tommy to get home early and take you out, you thought that tonight he was finally going to come through. No less than an hour ago he called to say he was a minute from leaving the office, and now… well, he was still in that very same office telling you that something had come up and not to expect him home before midnight.

The familiar click of Tommy’s tongue travelled down the telephone line to your ear, “I’m sorry YN, I need to close this deal tonight. It shouldn’t be taking this long… but there was a problem with the contract… it’s getting amended right now.”

Frustrated, you shook your head as if he was standing right in front of you, sure he could hear the shortness in your voice, but you were unable to bite your tongue. “Jees Tommy, I’m all dressed up with nowhere to go… Why couldn’t you let me know an hour ago?” Giving him no chance to reply, you huffed, throwing a hand in the direction of the sitting room, “And what about Polly… she’s already here to mind the kids.”

Clearing his throat, you could swear Tommy’s voice just broke a little. Was he amused by your frustration? “Don’t worry about Polly, she’ll use any excuse to see the children… she won’t care.”

Letting slip an annoyed grumble, you sank into the chair beside you. Staring into the darkness outside your frustration began to fade as disappointment took hold, your grumble finishing with a defeated sigh, “I just wish… I wish… I don’t even know anymore… I miss you, Tommy. I just want you to myself… for one night.” That was the moment you noticed headlights turn in at the top of the driveway. Sitting upright, you focused on the car, but it wasn’t familiar. “Who’s that. Tommy, were you expecting anyone tonight?”

Tommy asked, “What about two nights, eh?”

Confused, you stood up and walked around the desk to the window, scrutinising the car as it made its way up the driveway, “What do you mean?... Are you expecting someone?”

“What about two nights,” Tommy repeated.

The car rolled to a stop out the front of the house, leaving you even more confused. It was a brand-new Rolls-Royce limousine, complete with its very own chauffeur. Suspicion crept upon your voice as you spoke, “What are you talking about, Tommy. What do you mean, two nights?”

A soft chuckle sounded from the other end of the telephone, his voice now clearly amused, “What I mean is, no business, no races, no horses… nothing. Just you and me for the whole weekend to do whatever the hell we want.”

You fell silent a moment, unsure what was happening. This was completely uncharted waters; Tommy had never done anything like this before. You could hardly string a sentence together, “What? Whatever do you… I don’t… What’s going on?”

Mumbling something about you being adorable when you're frustrated and confused, Tommy chuckled again, before elaborating. “See that man out the window, that’s George, your chauffeur. He’s going to collect a suitcase in the foyer that Polly has packed for you and bring you to me.” Giving you a moment to collect your thoughts, he waited before clearing his throat, “So why don’t you go upstairs and kiss the children goodnight for me and tell them we’ll be home in a couple of days.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t contain the joy in your voice, “You’re such an ass, Tommy. Why couldn’t you just tell me, instead of torturing me like that?”

Tommy laughed audibly, “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you hurry up and get your own ass down here and you can punish me in any way you want.”

With a devilish voice, you sighed, “Oh Tommy, my love. Don’t you worry about that… I’ve got the whole car ride there to decide… and believe me, I already have a few ideas.”

[luminique]

I read through your entire Lighter zzz tag over the last few days bc the brainrot is real, lol. Thanks for the food, and I have some (potential) brainrot for you in return: Girl Dad lighter

I just know that man is sobbing at every milestone she hits. First steps? He gets misty eyed. First word? Literal tears streaming down his face. Bonus points if baby’s first word is about Lighter, i.e. “papa,” or maybe “song,” but she’s pointing at Lighter in a way that makes it obvious she means “strong” but just can’t say it yet. And Overlord help him when she starts learning to drive.

Also, whether she’s bio, step, or adopted, it makes no difference to him, that’s his baby girl either way!!

Anyway, those are (some of) my thoughts, lol.

i watched a vid of a little kitten imitating a golden retriever that had helped raise the kitten and it reminded me of lighter and i remembered this. girl dad lighter is so real and especially with his character theme video where he’s trying to take care of his comrade’s little sister….. this could be seen as a continuation of some sorts to another post of mine here !!

being a dad isn’t easy, not that he thought it would be. it’s physically demanding with how often he has to get up at night to cradle the baby to sleep, or how much he has to entertain her (he is not raising an ipad kid). what he didn’t consider is how emotional he could become over the course of a few years.

he remembers when she took her first steps. carefully crawling around his room, playing around with her toys but particularly close to a small stool he had. “come here, pretty” lighter’s hands were open for his little girl to crawl over to him. his voice was much sweeter and higher pitched, a change that you only hear when he’s talking to her. he initially thought that it would just be another fun play time but didn’t expect what he saw next.

as her small hands gripped the stool’s legs, she pushed herself up and was able to stand on her two feet. okay okay, nothing too surprising there, he thought. she turned around to him and began to take one step, then another, before tripping and falling down. his eyes widened at the sight, not knowing whether to be happy or be worried as he went over to her, coddling her with reassurance. “does it hurt anywhere? it’s okay, daddy’s here.” he gently wiped away her tears before it clicked in his head.

“wait… you just walked. that’s my girl.” chuckling as tears of joy welled up in his eyes. she didn’t quite understand but she saw his smile and laughed too, her own crying beginning to turn into laughter.

her first words were more of a group effort? ever since lighter became a dad, he hung out less during the sons of calydons night time gatherings around the fire. wanting to prioritize her sleep time and stay indoors at night, however the girls were able to convince him to hang out for a bit. they also wanted to see his little girl more then him but they wouldn’t directly admit it.

with the baby on the overlord’s lap, fascinated by caesar’s mechanical arm, she’s blabbering out nonsensical noises. then all of a sudden “dada” and “papa” comes out of her when she’s looking up at him. “d-did she just say papa…?” all of them turned towards the little girl that was grabbing at caesar’s grey-ish green hair.

“can you say burnice? burn like let’s burn this place down!” “burnice! she is NOT learning your name like that!” as the two blonde haired girls fought over the baby’s attention, lighter gently scooped her up into his arms. her happy babbling continued, calling him “dada” in between the incoherent words.

it felt like a dream come true, having her recognize him as her dad. even if not biologically but the sleepless nights, the many mistakes, the never ending crying. the feeling of pride swelled up inside of him, making even the undefeated champion cry. it’s not much now, but he can already see how proud he’ll be when she grows up surrounded by good family that will shower her with all their love.

[novasintheroom]

068. Lie

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 0.8k

♡ Warnings - none

♡ Description: You ask about Vash's family. He asks you the same.

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

“So where are you from?”

The question comes on a Tuesday afternoon, under the awning of a shop in a little town you haven’t found the name for yet. Vash is sat to your side, the creaking, rusted metal bench beneath. You pause in chewing your foil-wrapped burger. Vash’s eyes are on you, watching.

Not that there’s much to look at. You blink and shrug. “Podunk town like this. I can barely remember its name anymore, it’s been so long, and I’ve been on the move so much with the librarian stuff.” It’s a lie. You remember the name very well. But, taking another bite of burger, you’re not going to reveal it. Some old, old maps in the archives still have its name printed on them, and you won’t take the chance. “Where are you from?”

Vash laughs quietly, looking off to the side. “Same, I guess. I don’t remember the town, just my family.”

Well now, that’s a new topic. You lean back and look at him. “What was your family like?”

A solemn air surrounds him suddenly; his eyes crinkle, like he’s been pinched. You wonder if you’ve stepped over some line asking about it. But he opens his mouth and says, “I had…my adoptive mom, and my brother.” His hands come together before him, clasping. “My brother and I are twins.”

Are. Does that mean his brother is still alive? Funny that he’s never mentioned him or wanted to visit. You hum, feeling out how to approach this. “Adoptive?”

Vash nods. “Yeah. Our bio mom couldn’t really take care of us, so she – Rem, I mean – she took me and my brother in and raised us.”

A tomas-pulled cart trundles by, kicking up the dry dust of the hard road. You take another bite of your meal. Vash’s hands are empty. He said he wasn’t hungry. Your mind reels, wondering what to ask, how to make this a little less awkward. “What’s your brother’s name?”

Vash takes a breath in, then out. “Nai.”

You swallow and look at him odd. “’Nai?’” You pause. “Was it short for, like, ‘Niles?’”

He barks out a surprised laugh. “Uh, no, it was…just Nai.”

“Uh,” you realize you might be heading into ‘rude’ territory. You’ve only known Vash a few months; it isn’t time to make fun of his maybe-alive-maybe-dead brother’s name, “okay.”

“It’s no more weird than ‘Vash,’” he defends.

Your brows twitch up. “I didn’t say anything.”

“But you thought it,” he laughs.

You smile, hiding behind what’s left of your burger.

Vash brushes a hand through his hair, then turns to you. “What was your family like?” He nudges his shoulder against yours, and his strange, carefree smile is back.

Hm. Should have expected that question. Still, you feel a distant sadness in your chest. “I had a mom and dad. A sister. That was it, really.”

Vash waits for more. When nothing comes, he ducks closer. “What were they like?”

You sigh, finishing the last of your burger and crumpling the foil in your hands, letting them hang between your legs. “My mom was an amateur scientist, Dad was a farmer. My sister’s still alive, somewhere, but it’s been a few years since I’ve seen her, so that might be up in the air.” There. Half-truths are still truths, aren’t they?

He nods, accepting it all. “You ever want to go see her?”

Your lips thin. “Not really. We don’t…have the best relationship. Had a bit of a falling out. You know how it is.”

He sighs and puts his chin in his hand, leaning on a knee. “I do.” A forlorn, empty look overtakes his blues, something you can only see from the side with his glasses on.

Well, this isn’t fun. You feel bad, like you’re the one who brought down the mood. So, you try to fix it. You throw your foiled ball at him, hitting him in the cheek. “I know you’re hungry enough for a donut, right?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, but he hides it in a bewildered look. “Do you have any?”

“No, but we can go find some.”

He deliberates. You see it in his eyes. Do I want a donut? Do I want to spend the double dollars for one? Do I want to try and find some? Eventually, he agrees. “Alright. Yeah, let’s go find a donut.”

You slap your knees as you stand, bending down to pick up the foil ball and dispose of it properly. “Maybe we can check the post office while we do. See if there’s any packages need delivering.”

That perks him up more. Always looking for something to do, some way to help. Vash stands with you, and, following the dust of another wagon, you start your walk through town.

[heartsburst]

like do i want to go back to university? no. do i want to do science? yes i miss it so bad i still make up practice questions for myself when i get bored and don't even have anything to practice science for. do i want to go back full time? absolutely not. do i want to go back part-time? idk. maybe? do i think i can balance work and school? ummm not sure. do i really really really miss science and doind chemistry labs? yes so bad it's literally so silly. do i have to redo first year physics if i go back and switch into chem...? yeah..... fuck. do i still need my academic writing requirement class? yeah.... FUCK. do i only have my first year calc and elective credits done if i switch to chemistry? ..... yeah. do i hate academia with a passion? yes 💯. but do i miss science??? do i really miss science? yes. i miss doing science so bad it makes me look stupid. do i do temperature conversions for fun when im bored bc i miss doing science? yes. my coworkers think this is very funny. does being in university shut my brain off? yes. will starting adhd meditation help that? goddamn i sure fucking hope so. does going back mean i get free counselling w/ my favourite counsellor again? yes 🥰. does going back mean i get to continue to be a part of the indigenous community on campus? yes and i need that community so bad honestly. do i want to move back to where i was going to university anyway? ABSOLUTELY I WILL DO EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MOVE BACK ASAP. do i have a plan or know what i want to do with my life anymore tho? no 😭. do i feel silly abt hating university but wanting to go back for science especially when i've been so adamant about not going back? yeahhhhh...

anyway, somebody get me in a science class asap istg. please.

me for basically the last six months like: i will NOT go to university my first year was terrible and i hated it and the thought of staying fills me with dread

me last week: i will do anything to get a better job EXCEPT go back to university

me today: idk guys i miss doing science maybe i should go back to university... for chemistry

[lacrimosathedark]

The Radioapple Haters™️ are at it again.

This time they're attacking shippers with the newly released Playbill.

There's so many issues with that. Beyond harassing people for ships is dumb.

This is what people are pointing at.

This is on the cast info page. It says Lucifer misses his wife.

So, three things about that.

Firstly, We Been Knew, babe.

His very first appearance, after his daughter says her parents split up, he's in a room covered in pictures of not just said daughter, but her mother too, and he's still wearing a presumed wedding band. If that's not "showing not telling" with a goddamn airhorn, idk how more clear it could get without Lucifer flat out saying he misses Lilith. So like...this is not new info. So there's nothing to really rub in. We knew this.

Secondly, this is in-character Lucifer saying this.

I'm not a professional, but when I was in high school performances, we wrote our own little Playbill bio info things. That seems to carry into professional ones too. If you can read the actual cast, some of the the actors less entrenched in the fandom culture have basically an IMDB of their relevant previous roles, while the ones you see at cons are more personable. Those were written by the actors. So, logically, the character bios are written as if by the characters. This could not be made more obvious.

So, logically, you can read that little above as Lucifer himself actually saying he misses his wife. Which leads me to--

Third, break-ups are messy and painful and Lucifer not moving on, unwilling to remove his ring or call Lilith his ex, doesn't mean they are still together. Hell, they could still even be technically married, doesn't mean they're still romantically entangled.

Look, I know the only seeming one-sided relationships in the show is Vox/Alastor and Adam/Lilith and every other "pair" are together or at least friendly (Chaggie, Huskerdust, Cherrisnake, Staticmoth, Guitarspear) but not every separation has to be a violent resentful split. Lucifer is explicitly Depressed™️ which can be hard for any partner to deal with, especially someone as ambitious as Lilith. It wouldn't be surprising if she, not even cruelly, thought she'd be more successful away from him even if he still loves her.

And all this is on top of the fact that most Radioapple shippers don't expect their ship to happen (some hope it does, some hope it doesn't, I'm personally neutral on the concept), and that a lot of writers and artists explicitly acknowledge and use Lucifer's love for Lilith in Radioapple because people love the drama.

I have several posts listing why one might ship Radioapple so I won't go off about it here, but suffice to say the entanglement between Lilith and Alastor and how the two are similar and different makes interacting with Lucifer interesting from any angle.

This also hurts me personally a bit because a lot of these people are Lucilith shippers and, yall, I'm one of you. I don't want them to get back together for many reasons, but I would love to see endless flashbacks of them obnoxiously in love. Most of my favorite works of fanart aren't even Radioapple, my primary ship, but Lucilith, in large part because of how adorable they are. How indulgent or smitten Lilith can look. How adorably excited or flustered or just happy Lucifer can be.

I love Lucilith. I adore Lucifer. I just also think his interactions with Alastor are funny and intriguing.

We don't need to hate each other. We can try to keep our little sandboxes separate, but we can play nice when we spill into each other, can't we?

I am really just so sick of the silly in-fighting. It costs zero dollars and zero energy to not be a dick. Need to type out a rant to get it out and off your chest? cool. But you can post it privately or delete it instead of going into peoples' ask boxes and and posts to be nasty. Not having the self control and wherewithal to not go out of your way to be a dick to people is honestly pretty pathetic. If you think you're so much better, prove it by being better, or being smug in your space. Making people feel like shit for a nonexistent fictional relationship does literally nothing for anyone and makes YOU look worse.

Dislike the ship all you want. No one cares either way. Just don't waste your limited time in this life making your distaste everyone else's problem.

[dazed-dollie]

a wicked promise

an 18+ one-shot erotic short story

content warnings: corruption kink, addiction themes, slight mind break, Daddy kink, sadism/masochism, cnc, anal sex, exhibitionism

“You’ve got your demons / You’ve got desires / well I’ve got a few of my own” - “One of These Nights”, Eagles

“make me worse, pretty please…” a polite and earnest request in pretty pink writing, sealed with a pretty pink bow

you would think such a request would provide a more interesting response for a website with such a salacious reputation - and yet

your eyes glaze over as you stare at an inbox full of underwhelming DMs

you know that you're burnt out from one too many tries too close to each other

you click through the profiles, nothing catching your eye as usual – until

you find one that catches your attention for what should be all of the wrong reasons

a Daddy-type Dom, but not the kind that usually ends up on your radar - much less your DMs

a bio that promises taking your dignity…no pinned post or proper introduction…and the other posts are full of dark, sadistic scenarios – most past your comfort zone, some past your limits

you’re a soft bimbo princess after all…a pretty hypnodoll

you want to be molded and shaped to perfection…to have your body and mind toyed with, sure - but

broken? ravished? ruined? tormented with pain? that's not what you want, right?

“well I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but you won’t find it here,” you think to yourself

so you ignore all the messages and leave the decision about whether to close your DMs for another day

the next day comes and so does another message from the internet stranger…a question…a challenge…one that dares you to respond – and

it irritates you as much as it ignites something in you

you’re very guarded…but also bored and tired of feeling sorry for yourself – so you figure that you’ll have yourself some fun

“I’ll entertain him,” you think to yourself – and so you do - but

each message is just a little off-center from what you think you can expect

He doesn’t bark any commands or make demands but He doesn’t promise shiny, glittering fantasies of praise, adoration, or possessive protection either - instead

He asks questions about you

He weaves wicked little fantasies and lets you decide how they dance across your mind’s eye

He gives little detail about what he plans to do with you at all

He just talks to you - about you - and what you will want to become

“you will be corrupted and you will be addicted to it,” He promises

“you say you want me addicted, but what keeps you coming back to me?” you ask in response

“it’s your obedience that brings me back”

a straight forward proposition you can appreciate, delivered with the kind of certainty that somehow doesn’t feel truly vain or arrogant

you’re not sure if you believe it – but at least He’s honest about what He wants

you’re not sure if you’re testing Him or if He’s testing you - but

your curiosity is just itching to know either way – so you accept the stranger’s challenge – and the stranger with no name becomes “Daddy”…for now

“its just for a little while,” you remind yourself, “I'll have some fun finding the fantasy of his perfect little girl and play the role to see what it’s like…he’ll get bored of such a soft girl and move on to find what he’s actually looking for soon enough”

but the days pass and then the weeks pass

soon enough - ‘entertaining’ the man has taken on a completely new meaning

soon enough - “Daddy” takes up room in every sentence and wandering thought in your mind

soon enough - ‘My babygirl’, ‘My princess’, ‘My pet’, ‘My fucktoy’ feel better than hearing your own name

soon enough - seeing the notification on your phone is all it takes to shoot dopamine and eager, needy giddiness straight into your veins

so you float weightlessly on a cloud from the attention, the fantasies, and the orgasms He brings you

you feel helpless to the tightening of His grip around your mind - like a phantom hand around your throat - and

you sink into it deeper - chase the feeling of its steady, even pressure

“perfect,” He calls you and you shiver at the praise

you find yourself confused by the way it doesn’t feel at all like what He promised - it feels better - like its exactly what you’ve always wanted - yet

it feels too easy?

you haven’t moved or changed at all, have you?

you still feel the same, don't you?

no commands to follow, just simple suggestions and preferences

no expectations to meet other than loyalty and obedience

so questions plague your mind

“when does the corruption start?”

“when does the addiction begin?”

you shake those silly worries from your mind and return back to the task at hand - which was

stretching your needy virgin asshole open on Daddy’s cock while the clamps bite into your sensitive nipples and sun dances across your skin in front of the open window

you can’t seem to remember how long it’s been buried deep inside you but all that matters is how intense it feels as you drip and leak all over yourself

“it hurts, Daddy,” you whimper

“I know, princess, just like I promised it would,” He responds

you feel the clamps removed from your nipples and the orgasm it rips through your body sends you soaring in blissful ecstasy

“such a good girl for me…absolutely perfect for Daddy, my babygirl,” He praises

the twin dopamine surges make your eyes flutter closed as you sink into your place, that comfortable submissive place where you’ve felt nothing but safe and quiet peace

so happy to have been brought here with Daddy guiding each step by your side

He never hid his intentions or desires…somewhere along the way He found ways to make them yours too

inspo credit: @p1nk-taco-2sday

thanks for trip to the wild side, Daddy…it’s kinda fun here 😈

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Family Forever.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this is a part two to this blurb, so feel free to read that before engaging in this one!!

━━━━━━━━┛ 💫 ┗━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━┓ 💫 ┏━━━━━━━━

liked by username, username and 4,319 others

harryandynupdates, (Y/N) spotted in London yesterday with a baby bump!

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, I’m sorry but what?

username, you can’t just make assumptions, she may not even be pregnant 🤷‍♀️

username, Harry’s going to be a dad!!

username, I just passed out I think

username, I think I’m going to be sick

username, I mean it’s about time I guess

username, she’s glowing!

username, totally ignoring the caption but do you think she’s on the phone to Harry?

username, omds, imagine!

username, imagine she’s not pregnant 😭

username, in the first photo there’s definitely something

username, Harry being a dad is what all you lot have always wanted but now it could actually be happening your all upset…don’t make sense to me

username, exactly!

username, PREACH !!

liked by yourinstagram, mamatwist and 16 others

harrysfinsta, not long now. ❤️🍼

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments.

niallsfinsta, still can’t believe your going to be a dad

harrysfinsta, your the odd one out now mate

yourinstagram, ❤️❤️

harrysfinsta, I adore you.❤️

mamatwist, can’t wait to finally hold them💞

harrysfinsta, nor can i.

louissfinsta, almost there lad !

harrysfinsta, time couldn’t come fast enough

taylorsfinsta, the nursery looks amazing you guys, so excited to meet the little one !!

harrysfinsta, @yourinstagram designed it, I just got told what to do

yourinstagram, hey!!

liamsfinsta, prepare for the sleep less nights 😂

harrysfinsta, nothing can prepare me for those

gemmasfinsta, can’t believe I’m finally going to be an aunty, not like I’ve been waiting years,

harrysfinsta, you’ve been waiting years? what about me?!

zaynsfinsta, Khai is so excited to meet them.

harrysfinsta, so am I 🥹

sarahsfinsta , you’ll be joining the crew so soon

harrysfinsta, it’s about damn time

liked by username, username and and 9,381 other

enews, Harry Styles seen carrying a baby carrier after exiting a hospital yesterday in London after reports his wife (Y/N) was expecting!

click the link in our bio to find out more 📎

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, never knew something like this would make me feel a certain way

username, where’s our (Y/N)?

username, most likely already in the car🤷‍♀️

username, DILF

username, adopt me <3

username, sorry I know I should be fanfirling over the fact he’s now got a baby but that fit is amazing!

username, he does look exceptionally good for a new dad

username, I don’t know how to feel

username, it’s official, he’s one hundred off the market

username, is it a girl or a boy?

username, like wtf?! he just wants to go home with his wife and baby and there’s paps taking his pictures

username, you can see the aggravation on his face

username, they don’t deserve this

username, this is making me really emotional 🥹

username, I’m so happy for him!

liked by niallhoran, taylorswift and 19,318,410 others

harrystyles, Chester Robin-Harry Styles.

tagged, yourinstagram

view all comments.

username, YAYAYAYAYA

username, oh my goodness, I’m so happy

username, the name..the name 🥹

annetwist, magical ❤️

harrystyles, it really was.

(liked by yourinstagram)

username, he had a little boy?

username, this is not what I was expecting to here this year

taylorswift, so happy for you!

username, (Y/N) is the kickers girl ever to say that Harry Styles is her baby daddy

yourinstagram, our little chester 💙

harrystyles, ours forever.

username, BOY DAD BOY DAD

louist91, enjoy lad!

username, chester like the cheese?

username, that’s cheddar you dumb ass

(liked by harrystyles)

(liked by yourinstagram)

liked by username, username and 104,183 others

dailymail, You know it’s not the same As It Was! Harry Styles (29) has become a father for the first time with long time partner (Y/N) after announcing the beautiful name of there newborn son.

view all comments.

username, this is one of the best things over actually ever heard in my life

username, can someone tell me why I’m crying please?

username, because Harry’s finally a dad

username, great now I’m crying even more

username, Chester is the cutest name I’ve ever heard

username, they could have used a better photo tbf

username, no cos fr

username, sobbing

username, that photo of them 😭

username, the fact that Chester has Harry in his name

username, ever the narcissist

username, and robin!

username, now when I read that my eye’s definitely watered

username, DILF DILF DILF

liked by username, username and 5,613 others

harryandynupdates, Harry and (Y/N) spotted going on a walk with baby Chester today in London!

tagged, yourinstagram, harrystyles

view all comments.

username, this is actually the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life

username, the wave😭

username, I’m melting over here

username, he looks like such a good dad already

username, can’t get over the fact he’s officially A dilf

username, she looks so good even though she only just gave birth

username, the wedding ring on his hand 😭😭

username, her smile makes me smile

username, no cause same

username, she’s always got a smile on her face I’ve noticed!

username, can i join this family chat please and thanks 🙏

username, seeing him with the stroller is actually making me weak

username, my insides are melting 🥹

liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 643,190 others

annetwist, grandma duties have officially started.❤️🍼👶🏼

view all comments.

username, okay, this is actually adorable

username, they’re covering up his face?

username, they can do what they want 👍

username, Harry’s to famous for his kids faces to be blurred

username, Chester’s a new born, let them live there lives!

username, your smile 🥹🥹

username, do you think he looks like H?

username, we like to think the styles genes are strong.

username, having your parents look like Harry and (Y/N) means your bound to be cute

username, a grandma at the age of 55, your winning!

username, the way your looking at him 🫶😭

yourinstagram, the best grandma there is. ❤️

annetwist, making me tear up over here!

Harry Styles sat comfortably in his London home, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his morning routine. Today, however, there was an added buzz in the air as he prepared to join a Zoom interview with two popular television personalities, Holly Willoughby and Alison Hammond.

As the virtual call connected, Harry found himself greeted by the beaming faces of Holly and Alison, who wasted no time in introducing him to their viewers.

"Good morning, everyone! We have a very special guest with us today. It's none other than the incredibly talented and stylish Harry Styles!" Holly exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident.

"Hello, Harry! How are you doing today?" Alison chimed in, her warm smile reaching through the screen.

Harry smiled back, feeling instantly at ease. "I'm doing great, thank you! It's lovely to be here with both of you."

The conversation flowed naturally as Holly and Alison delved into various topics, from Harry's music career to his personal life. Eventually, the subject of Harry's newborn baby came up, sparking the curiosity of both hosts.

"So, Harry," Holly began, leaning in with interest, "we've heard the wonderful news about your new addition to the family. How has it been adjusting to life with a newborn?"

Harry chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Oh, it's been an absolute whirlwind, I must say. Sleepless nights and all, but it's also the most magical experience. I'm absolutely besotted."

Alison grinned, leaning closer to her screen. "And what about the name? We're dying to know! What did you and your wife decide to call your little one?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, adopting a playful expression. "Well, you see, my wife and I are both from Manchester. We wanted to pay homage to our roots, but we couldn't exactly name our son Manchester, now could we?"

Holly and Alison erupted into laughter, clearly enjoying Harry's wit.

"So," Harry continued, "we thought of shortening the name and getting rid of the man, hence the reason for Chester, it just felt right.”

Holly nodded, still smiling. "Absolutely! Chester Styles has a certain charm to it. Well, we wish you and your family all the love and happiness, Harry."

"Thank you so much," Harry replied warmly. "We're over the moon, and little Chester is already the light of our lives."

The virtual interview continued with Holly and Alison. They were eager to delve deeper into Harry Styles' life as a new father and couldn't resist asking about the speculation surrounding Chester's appearance.

"Harry, we must say, the world is abuzz with curiosity about your son Chester," Holly remarked, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. "Fans are dying to know, does he resemble you or your wife?"

Harry grinned, appreciating their enthusiasm. "Ah, the great mystery of Chester's looks! I'll let you in on a secret – everyone says he looks like me."

Alison chuckled playfully. "Well, Harry, I guess we'll just have to take your word for it. I'm sure he's a little heartbreaker in the making!"

Harry chuckled in agreement. "Oh, he certainly has that effect on people already, even without showing his face. He's got the charm, I can tell you that."

The conversation continued, with Harry sharing endearing anecdotes about his experiences as a new parent, the sleepless nights, and the overwhelming love he felt for his son. He spoke passionately about creating a nurturing and inclusive environment for Chester, instilling values of kindness and acceptance from a young age.

"I want Chester to grow up in a world where he feels safe to be himself," Harry emphasized. "It's essential to me that he knows he is loved unconditionally and supported in whatever he chooses to pursue. He may be just a tiny baby now, but I can already see his spirit shining through."

Holly and Alison nodded, genuinely moved by Harry's heartfelt words. "That's truly beautiful, Harry," Holly said softly. "We can only imagine the wonderful bond you share as a family."

During the continuation of the virtual interview, Holly and Alison decided to inquire about the birth of Harry Styles' son, delving deeper into the experiences and challenges surrounding that significant moment in his life. As they ventured into the topic, a heaviness settled over Harry, and his smile gradually faded, replaced by a veil of apprehension.

"Harry, we would like to hear about your wife's birth experience," Holly gently probed, her tone laced with empathy. "Could you share with us the details of what transpired?"

Harry's eyes shifted, his voice trembling slightly as he began to recount the distressing memories. "It was an incredibly arduous journey, to say the least. The birth was a grueling battle filled with unforeseen obstacles."

Alison leaned in closer, her concern palpable. "Is everything alright, Harry? You seem burdened by the weight of it all."

A somber nod escaped Harry as he mustered the strength to reveal the truth. "Well, truth be told, everything didn't go as planned. It was an excruciating two-day labor, and in the end, my wife had to undergo an emergency C-section due to life-threatening complications."

Holly's brows furrowed, and her voice softened, almost a whisper. "Could you elaborate on the complications, Harry? We're here to listen."

Harry's breath caught, the anguish present in his voice. "The complications were tumultuous, to put it mildly. There was placental abruption, a harrowing occurrence where the placenta detaches from the uterine wall prematurely, leading to severe bleeding and endangering both my wife and our unborn child."

Alison gasped softly, her eyes brimming with empathy. "That sounds incredibly distressing, Harry. How did you manage to navigate such a traumatic experience?"

A quiver in his voice, Harry pressed on, his words thick with emotion. "We were thrust into a whirlwind of chaos. The medical team scrambled to stabilize my wife's condition, performing an emergency cesarean section to save both her life and that of our precious child."

A pause, heavy with anguish, hung in the air as Harry gathered himself to continue. "But even after Chester's arrival, the complications persisted. He was whisked away to the neonatal intensive care unit, or NICU, due to his premature birth and the trauma he endured during delivery."

Holly and Alison exchanged glances, their expressions etched with sympathy and concern. "Harry, it must have been an agonizing ordeal. How did you and your wife find the strength to endure?"

Harry's voice quivered as he delved deeper into the painful memories. "We clung to hope, even in the darkest moments. The NICU became our second home, where we witnessed our fragile child hooked up to monitors, enduring myriad treatments, battling complications such as respiratory distress syndrome and jaundice."

The weight of the medical terms hung heavy in the conversation, reflecting the gravity of the situation. Harry's voice cracked as he continued, "Days stretched into endless nights as we watched our little one fight for his life, clinging to the tender threads of fragile existence."

Holly and Alison's eyes welled with tears, their hearts heavy with the weight of Harry's anguished story. They expressed their deepest admiration for Harry's resilience and the unwavering love he and his wife exhibited during this harrowing journey.

"Harry, if it's not too difficult, could you share more about the complications your wife faced during the birth our viewers at home are interested in knowing that there’s a bright side during these difficult times.” Holly asked gently, her voice filled with empathy.

Harry took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the floor as he prepared to reveal the gravity of the situation. "It was a devastating cascade of events. Due to the placental abruption and the subsequent blood loss, my wife's condition deteriorated rapidly. The medical team made the difficult decision to place her in a medically induced coma for four days."

A collective gasp escaped both Holly and Alison, their eyes widening in shock. "Four days in a coma?" Alison whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Harry nodded, his voice trembling with the weight of the memories. "Yes, she fought for her life. The doctors worked tirelessly to stabilize her, administering blood transfusions and conducting multiple procedures to control the bleeding."

Silence hung in the air as the hosts absorbed the gravity of the situation, their hearts heavy with empathy for Harry and his wife. Finally, Holly spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you cope with such an overwhelming situation, Harry?"

A pained expression crossed Harry's face as he opened up about the darkest moments of his life. "It felt like an abyss of despair. I was torn between staying strong for my wife and grappling with my own fears. I leaned on our families and friends for support, seeking solace in their unwavering presence."

He continued, his voice filled with a mix of anguish and gratitude. "The medical team provided exceptional care, explaining each step of the process and guiding us through the darkest nights. They became our pillars of strength, assuring us that we were not alone."

Harry's voice wavered as he recounted the arduous journey. "When my wife finally emerged from the coma, she had to confront the physical and emotional toll it had taken. The road to recovery was long and challenging, but we held onto the glimmer of hope that Chester's arrival had brought us."

Holly and Alison listened intently, their hearts aching for the pain Harry and his wife endured. They commended Harry's resilience and the strength that emanated from their shared experience.

As the virtual interview continued, delving into the deeply personal experiences of Harry Styles and his family, a tender moment unfolded. Harry's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and adoration as he contemplated bringing his son, Chester, into the interview. He felt a warmth in his heart, a desire to share this precious part of his life, even while maintaining their privacy.

With a warm smile, Harry excused himself briefly, leaving the frame of the camera. Moments later, he reappeared, cradling Chester in his arms. The room seemed to light up with an invisible glow as he carefully held his son, ensuring his tiny face remained hidden from view.

Holly and Alison couldn't contain their delight as they caught a glimpse of the precious bundle in Harry's arms. "Oh, Harry, he's absolutely adorable!" Holly exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Alison nodded enthusiastically, her eyes brimming with warmth. "He's a true heart-stealer, isn't he? We can see the love radiating from you, Harry."

A soft chuckle escaped Harry as he gently rocked Chester, careful to shield his face. "He's my little ray of sunshine, that's for sure. Though we prefer to keep his privacy protected, I couldn't resist bringing him along to share in this special moment."

The hosts cooed and awwed, completely captivated by the enchanting scene before them. The interview took on a lighter, more whimsical tone as Harry continued to speak, his voice infused with tenderness.

"You know, Chester has brought so much joy into our lives," Harry shared, a touch of awe in his voice. "Every day, I'm amazed by his little quirks and the way he captures everyone's hearts without even showing his face. He has this incredible way of making me smile, even in the toughest moments."

Holly's eyes shimmered with emotion as she commented, "It's evident how deeply you cherish him, Harry. Your love for him is palpable, even without revealing his sweet face to the world."

With a soft laugh, Harry nodded. "Absolutely. We want to give him the freedom to grow up away from the spotlight, to carve out his own path. But I couldn't resist sharing this glimpse of him with you all. He's my biggest source of inspiration and happiness."

As the interview drew to a close, Harry's arms instinctively tightened around Chester, an unspoken bond between father and son. He thanked Holly and Alison for their understanding and support, grateful for the opportunity to share this special moment.

With a final wave and a tender smile, Harry bid farewell, taking Chester with him as they embarked on the next chapter of their day. The love and warmth they shared lingered in the air, leaving behind a lasting impression of pure joy and adoration.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

v i e w a l l c o m m e n t s

username, okay this was way sadder then I thought it would be

(371 likes)

username, hearing Harry sound so vulnerable is hearting my heart in so many ways

(128 likes)

username, on a positive note the reason they named Chester that was actually so cute

(649 likes)

username, im so glad that our (y/n) is alright

(237 likes)

username, he looked so emotional when he was speaking about the birth 🥹

(419 likes)

username, when he brought Chester into the interview my heart combusted!

(1.2k likes)

username, I know it’s the hosts job to ask these questions but the look on his face when he had to answer absolutely breaks me😭

(631 likes)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by annetwist, niallhoran and 39 others

yourinstagram, the styles twins <3

tagged, harrystyles

view all comments.

annetwist, my babies ❤️❤️

yourinstagram, they really are adorable!

taylorswift, his fathers twin literally

yourinstagram, you wouldn’t think I carried him for nine months 😭😭

louist91, woah my mans got a strong game

yourinstagram, he really has!

harrystyles, hey!

pillowpersonpp, chester is the cutest little bubba I’ve ever seen!!

mitchrowland, what about our son?

pillowpersonpp, with an exception of course 🫶

harrystyles, the styles genes are strong! 💪

yourinstagram, they really are. 🥹

niallhoran, I can’t believe I’ve not met him yet, I’m getting serious fomo over here guys!

yourinstagram, we’ll have to arrange something!!

harrystyles, don’t you dare corrupt my kid, Irish!

liked by yourinstagram, liampayne and 9,319,641 others

harrystyles, Saccharine Lullabies. September 5th.

view all comments

username, oh yeah baby!

username, this is giving album of the year vibes and it’s not even been released yet!

username, a new album?

username, it feels like only yesterday Harry’s House was released

username, sobbing

username, is that supposed to be (Y/N) and Chester on the front?

yourinstagram, ❤️❤️

(liked by harrystyles)

username, wtf?

username, this album is going to be beautiful!

annetwist, so excited for you H!

(liked by harrystyles)

username, YEAH BABY YEAH BABY YEAH BABY

username, lullabies?! omg an album dedicated to Chester!

username, this album is going to change lives I can just tell!

━━━━━━━━┛ 💫 ┗━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━┓ 💫 ┏━━━━━━━━

[soongyeopsal]

Judgement Call

Summary: You only have 1 job: Don’t let the werewolf out of the basement.

▸ Pairing: werewolf!DK/Seokmin x F!reader

▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp (smut) / established relationship, supernatural If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: breeding, a bucket of drool, biting

▸ Word Count: 1.2k

▸ A/N: This is my entry for KBCS’s Blood and Bane event! 🐺 The prompt ofc being: breeding kink. Thank you @shuadotcom for your beta services (no pun intended lol) as always!

Read more at the top because grown up words are in the first paragraph.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Dokyeom is a gentle giant with too much self control. Everything about him is oversized. Yet, the way he keeps his palm to the small of your back in public is reassuring. He holds you in your shared bed delicately, as if you’re a baby bird. He fucks you as if every thrust could break you. 

Holy shit, you wish he would break you. Just once.

You both know that he could. It’s not that Dokyeom has to set out to either; quite the opposite. Dokyeom is always holding back for fear of hurting you. 

As the days bleed together and the nights inch closer and closer to a full moon, he gets a little careless. His canines linger on the fleshy part of your thighs and the pressure teeters on painful. Long digits grip small, purple bruises into your hips. Enormous palms force your legs up to dangle your feet near your head for so long that your hips feel it in the morning.

Then, when the moon has reached its full magnificence for all to witness, Dokyeom is gone. He’s not far; just in the basement actually. You huff and roll your eyes every time your scheduled Rules meeting rolls around, but your boyfriend still insists on reviewing everything thoroughly and consistently.

The Rules:

Double-check the restraints.

Double-check the basement door lock.

Do not investigate any sounds.

Do not come to the basement for any reason before 8am.

Tonight, you exaggerate your pout as you salute him playfully on the landing of the basement stairs. You pout even harder when you step back after locking him in heavy metal wristlets chained to the floor. Dokyeom flashes his signature LED smile and sunny “love you”. It doesn’t make you any less upset about having to lock him away, but you’re forgiving enough to just go along with it.

What Dokyeom isn’t aware of is that you’re also forgiving enough to take whatever he dishes out when you head downstairs in nothing but a nightgown and a key around your neck at half past midnight.

You only make it halfway down the stairs when the chains rattle, then clang as they’re pulled taut. A cautious, deep rumble from Dokyeom’s chest cuts through the darkness. When you reach the bottom and flick the lightswitch on, he’s only a few feet from the steps – it’s as close as he can get with the cuffs on. Crimson eyes stare you down, unblinking and predatory as Dokyeom’s gaze roots you to the spot. You should be worried and you should be fearful and you should go upstairs, but when you look past his fangs and claws, there’s an unmistakable tent in his basketball shorts that makes the sensible part of your brain shut down immediately.

��Out.” Your boyfriend's voice is deeper and so much more gravelly than you would have expected. It’s as if he hasn’t spoken in eons and nearly forgot which language he speaks. 

One thing’s for sure: his tone is speaking directly to your pussy.

“Out!”

Dokyeom growls again, straining against the chains as you disrobe where you stand, skin instantly pebbling with goosebumps from the draft. His expression keeps changing in a kaleidoscope of contradicting emotions, but it’s clear which one wins out the second you dare to enter his personal bubble.

The hook of Dokyeom’s nails threatens to puncture as his fingers curl around your wrist and yank you toward him. It’s not exactly tender, but he’s reasonably careful as he lowers your down onto the blanket – the only “amenity” here, at his request – so you’re laid bare beneath him. The two of you stay frozen, Dokyeom panting above you as he scrutinizes every inch of your body. 

It’s not until your hand reaches to cup the side of his face that he lets go. He leans into the touch before mouthing your hand, leaving a trail of drool in your palm. There’s no time to complain – he’s got to be only half-listening at best, anyway – with how he’s yanked your legs apart so he can slot himself in to rut against your cunt sloppily.

Dokyeom was not small to begin with, but his bulge is noticeably bigger now. Is it harder, too? Is that possible? Yes and yes, you confirm as you (barely) manage to slide your hand between your bodies and catch the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down to expose his hips. 

A shaky, high-pitched sigh/whine lets you know how much he appreciates the gesture as he lines his tip up with your weeping entrance. Dokyeom is physically shaking as he does so, eyes screwed shut as he begins to enter as slowly as he can bear. The bliss of your heat keeps his mouth hanging open in a silent groan, letting more saliva fall from the gape like a faucet that douses the link between your bodies. 

If you’d had a chance to study his cock as it is now, there’s a good chance you would have chickened out. With your hubris and his reduced impulse control, though, you make it work. Once he’s fully inside of you, you’re only given a few seconds before he’s thrusting. Dokyeom’s cock fills you deep, deep, deeper than you’ve ever felt before. In your daydreams, you’d pictured yourself full, yet still dainty, arms above your head as you sigh with pleasure. In reality, you barely sound human yourself as you hiss and yelp beneath him while the shape of his cock projects itself in the pouch of your lower belly, clawing at his sides because he’s too wide to even get your arms around him in this form.

Dokyeom has never been shy about letting you know how good you feel, but he’s so vocal like this. You know he’s close, even without words. Grunts smooth themselves into whimpers and growls slip into the beginnings of a howl. 

You’re close too and you tell him so, but he doesn’t seem to acknowledge it at first. The way you ragdoll in Dokyeom’s grasp as he suddenly hoists you up by the waist to fuck into you harder would be comical if you could see yourself, but your eyes are too busy rolling into the back of your skull. He pins you down with his full weight, nearly taking the wind out of you as his thrusts become short and sharp. 

He rests his lips on your shoulder, breath almost searing as he murmurs, “Love you, breed you.” It’s not clear if he’s asking or telling you, honestly, but you wouldn’t be here in this moment if that mattered to you. 

Dokyeom is yours and you are his. It’s sealed when you cum on his cock and he drives into you one last time, howl muffled into your shoulder as fangs compress and then perforate your delicate skin. It should hurt and you’ll certainly need to patch yourself up later, but the pain only pushes you deeper into euphoria as he floods your pussy with hot cum. 

Just like when you started, the two of you suspend your movements, catching your breath. This is the part where you both come down together and Dokyeom pulls you into his chest lovingly. 

There’s just one little detail you didn’t consider in your excitement leading up to tonight: Werewolf Dokyeom doesn’t just want to breed you; he has to. And one session is simply not enough to get the job done.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

warnings: smut, swearing, blowjob

AN: @illiana-mystery sent me the bottom picture so idk where she got it from. But it sure plays with the imagination.

Alan tutted as he walked out of the bathroom. He was playing with his bow tie before sighing and giving up. Gesturing to it, he looked at me.

“could you help with this blasted thing?” He asked, giving me a small smile. “I can never seem to get it.” I laughed as I walked over, doing his bow tie without issue. “Thank you luv.” He whispered before kissing me softly.

“Of course darling.” I whispered back, patting his chest. “Perish the thought of what you’d do without me.” Alan chuckled as his hands fell to my waist.

“probably go without.” He said. I gasped in mock shock.

“and let the Templar elders ream you a new one for having an open collar? The horror.” I teased. Alan rolled his eyes playfully before kissing me again. “Now, I do believe there is something I need to do.” I whispered before sinking to my knees.

“(Y/N)…” Alan murmured. “There isn’t…”

“isn’t there?” I said, head cocked as I worked on getting his belt undone. Alan hummed as I pushed his pants down and his boxers out of the way. “I’ll make it worth your while. Feel free to tell the elders it was my fault.” Alan chuckled as I slowly stroked him.

“oh i will darling. You can count on that.” Alan said, hand coming to rest on my head. “Now are you going to waste more time or get on with it?” I smiled sweetly up at him before leaning in and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. Alan moaned as his head dropped back. “Fuck.” Humming, I starting leaving kitten licks to the head as his fingers curled against my head.

“you said to get on with it.” I murmured as he looked down at me.

“(Y/N)…” Alan moaned as I took him into my mouth. His head fell forward as he bottomed out, my hands squeezing his thighs as I slowly pulled back. “We don’t have all day.” He whimpered as I ran my tongue along his length. “Fuck.” I sped up my movements before reaching out to cradle his balls. Alan hummed as I gently kneaded them, continuing to run my tongue over his dick as my head bobbed.

“just like that Alan.” I whispered as I pulled off him, licking the bead of cum that was pooling at his head. “Just like that.” Alan moaned as I squeezed his balls at the same time his cock hit the back of my throat. With a shudder, he came. I swallowed everything before standing up, laughing while tucking him back into his pants. “Not too bad now was it?” I asked, smiling brightly at him. Alan playfully growled at me before pulling me into a kiss.

“I hope you realize I’m returning the favor later tonight.” He said, pulling away. I righted his bow tie and jacket before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’d expect nothing less.” I said as he turned to head out the door.

[surrogate-fawn]

Pregnancy Catfisher

Y'all, there ain't nothing wrong with having a rp account. No shame. No judgement. Go have your fun! But if you are acting out a fake pregnancy, please disclose it as so.

((Shout-out to @imhavingababy for being an excellent example of how to run a preg/birth kink rp blog!))

As @breathe-and-push has pointed out in the past, catfishing as a pregnant person can harm actual pregnant people in this community. It can give someone a false expectation of what pregnancy will be like, which is unhealthy. It could give consumers of kink content the expectation that all kinksters will share their irl pregnancies, which can lead to a sense of entitlement and harassment of pregnant people who are not open to sharing details.

I will not tag this person, as I'm not trying to harass them -- and DO NOT go spam them, either! They're a very new blog, but for the well-being of the community at large I'm posting proof that they are a pregnancy catfisher.

This is their blog and bio:

See that ultrasound? It's stolen.

I pointed out this person should be tagging their rp:

Less than an hour later, they deleted my reply:

And then they vertically flipped the ultrasound pic to try and fool reverse image search:

Yes, I know that "birth roleplay" is tagged on that, but if you go to the blog and look at how they use tags, it seems they've slapped every preg and birth related tag on there to try and get eyes on their blog.

Sidenote: PLEASE do not use the tag "#pregblr" for roleplay posts! That tag is supposed to be used for actually pregnant people to share their stories and find support.

My guess is that this person is likely young and wanting to live out their mpreg fantasies. That's not a bad thing, it's just something that needs to be tagged.

This post exists because they are clearly wanting people to think they're actually pregnant, when they are not.

Be wary out there, folks. Don't do this. It's empty attention if it's not real, anyway; you'll be left feeling hollow after the charade is over.

[fanfics4all]

Winter Storm

Request: Yes / No Fluffcember Day 22!

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Alicia Clark x Male!Reader 

Word count: 522

Warnings: Just warm loving fluff!

Y/N: Your Name 

Prompt(s):

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The wind howled outside, fierce and relentless, like nothing I’d ever heard before. Snow whipped against the windows, and every so often a gust would make the entire cabin creak. Alicia was sitting across from me, her arms wrapped around her knees as she watched the storm rage on outside. We’d come here thinking a couple of days in a quiet cabin would give us a break from the chaos, a chance to just breathe and forget the outside world. But neither of us expected the storm to roll in so fast, locking us in completely. 

“It’s like nature just decided to trap us here.” I said, trying to make light of it, but even I wasn’t convinced. Alicia’s lip twitched up just a bit. 

“Nature has a sense of humor, I guess.” Her voice was steady, almost calm, but I could see the tension in her eyes. Alicia was always strong, but I knew how much she hated feeling stuck. She hated having her freedom taken away, even temporarily, even by a storm. I walked over and sat beside her on the floor, close enough that our shoulders were touching. 

“We’re gonna be fine, you know. It’s just a little snow.” She shot me a look. 

“This is not a little snow, Y/N. Look outside!” She gestured toward the window, where a wall of white obscured the trees and everything beyond. 

“We’re buried in here.” I tried not to laugh, but I couldn’t help it. 

“Alright, maybe more than a little.” She leaned her head against my shoulder, her body relaxing slightly. 

“Guess I’ve been through worse.” 

“You definitely have.” I agreed, resting my head on hers. 

“And I bet the storm lets up by morning. Just have to ride it out.” 

We sat in silence for a while, just listening to the wind beat against the walls, the heavy thump of snow piling up on the roof. Outside, it was chaotic, but inside, it was just us. I wanted to say something to reassure her, but I knew words wouldn’t mean as much to her as just being here. Eventually, she turned to me, her face softened in the dim light. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I’d wanna be trapped in a storm with anyone else.” 

“Feeling’s mutual.” I whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. She looked so serious, so strong at that moment. It was like she was carrying the weight of everything she’d been through in the lines of her face. 

“You make everything feel a little less…heavy.” She gave me a small smile. I didn’t say anything, just pulled her into a hug. I felt the tension in her melt away as she wrapped her arms around me. For a moment, the storm outside didn’t matter. The endless struggles, the memories, the uncertainty, all of it just faded away. There was just Alicia, strong and steady, and me, holding her close like if we stayed that way, nothing could touch us. It finally felt like we had just a moment of peace, despite the store still raging away outside.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @therealchoni 

[tamelee]

Hi… what do you think about people hating on naruto and saying that sasuke deserves better than naruto and that he doesn't love sasuke as deeply as sasuke does. And the way he talks in ch 698 like he doesn't want to come out. And he marries the first girl who chases after him to hide his sexuality like a closet gay behavior and live up to society's expectations (following according to his mother's word). Sasuke looked soo sad in Gaiden because Naruto had rejected his love for him. Some SNS shippers say that's why they hate Naruto.

I highly doubt you’re talking about SNS shippers/fans though. I have a feeling I know exactly what kind of stans these are because they’ll take every opportunity to hate on Naruto (and other characters as well). And if such people do claim they are then I’m pretty sure that the ‘🍥’ joining the ‘🍅’ is just in the bio for show. As if to say, ‘I ship SNS, therefore my unsolicited and biased criticism against Naruto is extra valid :)’ when it’s really not, (and vice versa) but I‘ll spare you the rant.

Using secondary source material (anything ’Boruto’) in order to invalidate main source material (’Naruto’ Manga) to then try and rationalize secondary source material-outcomes (the sequel) with assumptions to fill the gap in between these two (blank period) when it’s completely void of all previous logic in the first place, makes a well grounded argument in what way exactly?

In other words; why the hell would you look at the sequel and willing let that change your perspective as if it holds any merit to what we’ve already come to learn?

There is nothing wrong with a good hypothesizing session. I know from experience it can be somewhat soothing to rationalize a way towards something unwanted. In this case, it’s the sequel. ‘Gaiden’ is interesting for its own reasons. It’s sort of like, trying to come up with an explanation that makes an outcome seem a little less… bad. Which becomes easier because Naruto and Sasuke’s misery is fully on display. In the case of these haters though, they make it worse and just blame a character for a company’s money-grabbing decision. To let that be the deciding factor for them that fuels these unhinged claims about him being a bootlicker that acts through hatred or whatever strange mumbo-jumbo they also come up with. But anytime someone tries to make an argument about ‘Naruto’ and uses “because in ‘Boruto’…” you can already cast it aside as invalid.

Connecting two unrelated idea’s doesn’t say nor prove anything. You can’t even disprove it either because the argument doesn’t make any sense.

So it’s also ironic to hate on Naruto using Ch. 698 as an excuse to say he ‘doesn’t love Sasuke as deeply as Sasuke does’, when it’s primarily Naruto trying to explain how deeply he loves Sasuke as best as he can lol. I’m not sure if I’m impressed by the creativity or just dumbfounded that someone can read Ch. 698 and then come to such an irrelevant conclusion as if it has anything to do with ‘coming out’. It’s like having a conversation with someone about a very specific type of bird when another person barges in to ask why they’re discussing how to create your own carrousel. And besides, Naruto may exaggerate his denial profusely when someone brings it up (which is by itself very telling), but he never was good at hiding how he felt about Sasuke or how far he’d go (literally the entire story), even threatening war on behalf of Sasuke, dragging Konoha in it, indicating revenge for Sasuke if he’s harmed when really it was just a matter of his own personal feelings. As… obviously Konoha couldn’t care less and in fact would most likely side against Naruto anyway. He’s already boldly shared his intimate thoughts with the entire world during the war though, didn’t he. He literally connected his Chakra with everyone and spilled his brainrot about him freely.

You can create your very own narrative towards the outcome that is ‘Boruto’ and make it as crazy as you want, but it will still be based on assumptions. In fact, go ahead and write that story if you must, they tried and failed with Hinata’s movie for a reason. I'm sure an SNS-fan can do a better job, in fact, they have.

The idea that Naruto would probably struggle to accept how he feels and what it means, could very well be true. It would definitely be conflicting with the role he is expected to play as Hokage and it’s also something I’m exploring in the story I’m writing. But, so would it be possible that Sasuke will struggle, because we haven’t forgotten that love caused him to experience the most horrible pain through betrayal, yes? Naruto does care about how he’s perceived and he is a people-pleaser that was on a journey to realize that there is a difference between the conditions he must meet in order to soothe his sense of feeling unworthy of love and the unconditional love Sasuke proved to hold for him, regardless of anything else. “Because I feel relieved just looking at you as it reminds me of the love I’ve lost”.

Acknowledging is one thing, accepting is a whole other and then taking the action-steps to pursue it freely would imo require another story which would’ve been a fitting follow-up after Ch. 699 if that was even possible in the first place for Kishimoto to do. But it’s not.

Stop for one second and think about the amount of value you put onto the money-grabbing shit-stain on the franchise that is ‘Boruto’ and whether you want that bullshit, no matter the label, to invalidate everything you’ve loved about it in the first place. Rationalizing something when the bridge toward it is missing completely and where the outcome isn’t followed by logic is just people inventing an explanation to justify their own unhappiness with something. Aka; their hatred for Naruto.

[makutaservaela]

Headcanon Ramblings: The BIO in Bionicle (Part 1, Reproduction and Infanthood)

Alright, I'm gonna ramble about how each species reproduces. Scientific and some mature topics incoming, including genital descriptions.

First of all, the canon info I'm working with:

Agori are mammalian, in the sense they have live-born. I expand this to presume pectoral lactation as well, large-gamete-female and small-gamete-male, etc.

Skakdi are more organic than anything else in the MU, to the point that replacing body parts could be dangerous or fatal.

Second, a few clarifying things:

I use "Glatorian" to refer to the species. I'd make up a name for them, but this is easier for readers.

Elsewhere I put up my ramble about Bionicle timing. Generally, presume that if I use years, I am using them to compare to human development, using Matoran/Agori development as the default. In other words, a "2-year-old Matoran" is a Matoran who is cognitively similar to a 2-year-old human. A "2-year-old Makuta" is a Makuta the same chronological age as that Matoran, even though Makuta brains develop different parts at a different rate to a Matoran, etc.

Matoran, Vortixx, Skakdi, Toa, Makuta, etc, will be referred to as "Muians" or "MUians" (Matoran Universe-ians). Agori, Glatorian, Skrall, Bone Hunters, Vorox, Zesk, etc, will be referred to as "SMnans" (Spherus Magnans). Specifically, these are referring to only the sapient beings of this evolutionary line, so any time I say "All MUians" or "Of any species", for example, I'm not including, say, Tarakavas or Spikits. MUians and SMnans are biologically of the same "evolutionary line".

When the MUians were converted organic, the sexes were evened out. Many beings who had been programmed male were recreated biologically female. As gender had virtually no bearing on them beyond elements before, and "programmed male" just meant "programmed as less gentle" (according to Farshtey), this has caused minimal identity concerns.

Reproductive Anatomy

(A Photo of Lariska, pregnant with Zaani)

All Muians and SMnans reproduce the same way and have similar genitals and reproductive anatomy. Females contain large gametes, a uterus, two ovaries, and two pectoral mammary glands (except Takadox's species, who are partial quadrupeds and have two pelvic mammaries). All MUians and SMnans generally nurse young in an upright position while carrying their young, except Makuta (whose young can hang on their chest unaided) and Skakdi (who tend to nurse while laying on their side like dogs or cats. Despite this, Skakdi still have two pectoral mammaries).

Males contain small gametes produced in a pair of testes located under their penis.

This part is similar to humans. The part that is not similar is how these genitals are formed. MUians and SMnans do not have external genitals. Both have two orifices- Cloaca (leading to both urinary and reproductive tract) and rectal. The testes do not hang outside the body, as MUians and SMnans both do not have bodies that run hot enough to harm the sperm, and therefore the trait of them needing to be external never occurred. That being said, an observer can actually feel a male's testes through the skin on his crotch, until said male becomes uncomfortable and asks the observer to cease.

A male's penis is internal and sheathed. Upon arousal, it will move external, and when fully external, the base will swell, locking it from resheathing until it unarouses or ejaculates.

One would expect that I have some interest in lewding Bionicle, but I oddly do not. I have nothing against lewding things, and do so frequently, but for some reason, I pause at lewding Bionicle. I have been trying to work myself up to writing a lewd fanfiction on AO3, though.

Mammary glands, unlike those in humans, do not swell or remain swollen when not in use. There is some excess fat storage on the female chest, but otherwise, besides a more rounded appearance than a male's, a female's chest doesn't look that much different than a male's and does not hang off much more than a male's.

Gestation for all species generally lasts about a year, and is done exclusively by the female.

A male's abdomen is split into four sections, while a female's is split into six. During pregnancy, the two middle sections are the primary ones that stretch and grow to support the fetus.

MUian and SMnans both have much, much lower sex drives than humans do. They do have pleasure sex, and like humans they are only fertile in certain times. They also have something in between estrus and menses, although the MUians have very little understanding of this, and don't really know why most sex does not result in babies. They do understand "sperm + egg", though, as well as barrier contraceptives, but don't understand their own bodies well enough to have chemical contraceptives.

Reproduction Quirks

(A photo of the now-female Zemya and her daughter Hinua)

Agori, Zesk, Vorox, and Glatorian are incapable of breeding with each other. Glatorian were previously able to breed with an early prototype of Toa, but it is unknown if any SMnans can breed with any MUians now.

Toa, Matoran, Toa Nuva, Turaga, and Makuta are the same species, and all of them can interbreed with others. It is unknown if Turaga can breed, as shortly after the switch to organic, all Turaga were either reverted to Toa or killed by unrelated circumstances. Toa can no longer become Turaga. For clarity, I will refer to this species as "Matoran" for this section.

Toa energy is inheritable, and comes in different states:

N- Not present (Matoran)

I- Inactive (Matoran who can become a Toa)

A- Active (Toa)

Toa energy can only be inherited in the parents' state, save for N, as it is possible for any Matoran to fail to inherit any Toa energy from either parent. Two I parents cannot create an A child. and likewise two A parents or an A and N parent cannot create an I child.

The next point refers to corruption:

0- Never been corrupted (shapeshifted, exposed to Antidermis, Mutagen, or Energized Protodermis, etc) OR has been corrupted, but all traces of the corruption have been removed at the time of conception.

1- Has been corrupted, but is not actively corrupted (shapeshifted, but has since turned back BUT traces of the corruption remain).

2- Is actively corrupted (actively a Makuta in their default form, Hordika, Toa Nuva, or otherwise shapeshifted).

If a being with natural shapeshifting power, such as a Makuta, shapeshifts mostly or completely into another species and then conceives, the being will NOT inherit Makuta from them, but it may be a shadow elemental.

Corruption-1 may or may not be inherited. Corruption-2 will ALWAYS be inherited and will ALWAYS be dominant. A Makuta in their default form at the time of conception will ALWAYS create a Makuta child, regardless of the species or corruption of the parent. Likewise for Toa Nuva. The child born of Corruption-2 will have that status as their default state.

Corruption-1 also may not entirely inherit. For example, of Matau's four kids, Irunak was affected by Corruption-2 (A Rahkshi shapeshift), Oohnora was affected by Corruption-1 (mental issues of Hordika, but no physical ability to turn into one), and Kekek and Usall were affected by Corruption-1 (ability to turn physically into Hordika, but not mentally). Oohnora inherited different aspects of Corruption 1 than her siblings.

This would mean, for example, Onua is an A2. Zemya is either a 0I or 0N

This... begs the question of what happens if a Toa Nuva bonks a Makuta... and this question has yet to be answered.

Elements inherit. There are few exceptions: a prominent one is that if the baby has no shadow parents, it is rare, but possible, for the baby to be a light elemental even if it has no light elemental parents.

When a Matoran has a baby, their baby will always be the size a Matoran's baby will be, regardless of if the baby is a Matoran or Toa. Likewise, a Toa's baby will always come out the same size as any baby a Toa would have. The heights eventually even out, so a Toa born from a Matoran will start out baby Matoran-sized, and eventually be adult-Toa size. I will go into more detail in a later ramble.

Infant Matoran still need masks, although the harm of being without one can be mitigated by nutrients obtained by nursing. They are not born with masks. The tradition is to give the first born child the same mask as their mother, and the second born the same mask as their father, and any subsequent children get the same mask as their parents' close friends.

Vortixx females have an interesting trait- their bodies can work with the sperm of a male of any other species (see clarification above), take only the parts that her egg can use, and reject everything else. In this way, a female Vortixx can reproduce with a male of a different species, and the infant will always come out a full Vortixx. It is highly likely it will also come out a female. A sperm of, say, an animal, will be too far off for any use, though, and will always result in miscarriage.

As far as observed, Skakdi can only mate with other Skakdi (save the above exceptions).

Skakdi have been able to reproduce this whole time. However, no one goes to Zakaz, so no one bothered to check. Out-of-story, this is how I explained why the Skakdi didn't go extinct after Spiriah's meddling- there would be no way factories could stay standing on the island to make more Skakdi. Warlords would obviously target opposing Warlords' factories.

The only other MUians who would have known were Spiriah and Krika (the Makutas of Zakaz) who just didn't care that Skakdi could eject tiny versions of themselves, and the Shadowed One, who quickly realised the distraction this would cause, and just as quickly invented a solution.

The Piraka are... "with the pillars, sans the stones", so to speak. Due to the way Skakdi process hormones, this had little effect on them outside of fertility, with the exception of Vezon due to his nature of coming into being. Vezon has no concept of mating, nor is really able to process the act.

After the conversion to Organic, the Shadowed One quickly updated to requiring sterilization of all Dark Hunters, although he had a poor enough understanding of female anatomy that about 30% of the females came out of it with still somewhat functioning reproductive systems. Lariska's daughter is likely the only child her body will be able to produce.

Infant Development Comparisons

(A photo of Vezok (bottom right), one of his siblings, and his parents).

Matoran, Toa, Glatorian, Zesk, Vorox, and Agori have infant development similar to humans. Makuta are the only Matoran species whose development is much different, as infant Makuta are more physically able at a younger age (they can use their elemental, Kanohi, and Kraata powers starting around age 2-5, where Toa cannot until around age 10), but are more emotionally attached to their parents. We will get more into this in a later ramble.

Skakdi have the shortest wean time, at around 4-5 months. This is about when their teeth and jaw strength comes in, so weaning any past this would result in a mother with a large bite wound in lieu of a nipple. Makuta have the longest wean time, likely to strength maternal bond, as the infants can not only eat solid food, but can hunt independently years before they wean.

Mate Selection

(A photo of an odd-looking Vorox Alpha-male interacting with a young Vorox and young helmet-less Zesk, while the alarmed mother Vorox looks on)

Matoran are still very new to the concept of mate selection. As Matoran tend to stick to their own element's homeland, the standard is for Matoran to either mate with their own element, or for them to mate with someone of another element but not cohabit. The child will grow up in their same-element parent's village.

Most MUians and SMnans have a natural inclination toward monogamous pair-bonding, with some exceptions.

Matoran do not yet have much of a concept of "cheating" or "only having sex with your spouse". They do have a concept of informing their spouse and communicating extra-marital affairs, but having sex without someone besides your spouse is seen as on par with a human eating meat while their spouse is a vegetarian- the actual offense depends on the specific family dynamic the two have. For some couples, it can cause a breakup, and for others, it is seen as harmless.

Skakdi are split into two categories: Rural and Urban. Rural Skakdi are less technological, but more physically imposing, and Urban Skakdi are more technological, and live in civility. Urbans also have armies and warlords, and so have a need to control reproduction. Urban females are beaten into submission at a young age, and are assigned mates with little say. Polygyny is very common for Urbans. Bastard Skakdi are considered shameful, as is a female committing premarital sex and homosexuality for either sex.

Rural females are more dominating and aggressive than their male counterparts. Rural females critically judge a male's fathering skills- showing subpar fathering skills is enough for her to drive him off at best, or kill and feed him to her young at worst. One easy way to attract a female is to find one with one or two young kids, and father her kids until she decides he is better mate than her current one, and she will replace him with the new one and allow him to impregnate her. This benefits him, as it means if he dies, his kids will be protected by the next male. The one risk is that a male may want to make the job easier by picking off some kids- usually targeting the older ones, since they get less attention. If he is caught doing this, he's as good as dead. If he isn't, then he doesn't have to work as hard to impress the female. Because of this, Skakdi with many siblings tend to live independently as young as possible, usually around age 10, although they will remain in their mother's territory and visit her. Rural Skakdi have close bonds with their mothers well into adulthood. Also because of this, it is very common for Rural males to show affection or care to other Skakdi's kids, regardless of if he wants to impress their mother, and his natural instinct will guide him to assist an abandoned child unless he considers it too much of a hassle.

Agori's concept of mate selection is egalitarian and include cohabitation and pair child-rearing. Sex with a non-spouse is heavily frowned upon and likely to result in break-up. Likewise for Vortixx. Male Vortixx who are unmarried are given worse jobs, and so are more likely to marry to get out of that.

Shortly before the Core War up until the reformation of Spherus Magna, Agori have wanted a strict control on Glatorian numbers. Because of this, Glatorian unauthorised mating is strictly forbidden. Glatorian mating can only occur when the tribes decide together that more Glatorian are needed. Then, they will look through the records of all females who may be in heat, cross this with the available males and how recently she has had a pregnancy, and cross this with how many babies to try for. Once the females are selected, the tribes with viable males then bid for their male to mate the female, with the auction money going to the female's tribe (since they will be down a Glatorian for a while). A male can pay his tribe leaders to bid on his behalf if he wants to mate- otherwise, neither Glatorian gets a say in the matter. Once conception occurs, the male is sent back to work and has no more say in the child.

Malum has a serious genetic defect that is inherited to all of his children. Disabled Glatorian children are usually abandoned to die in the desert, so the fact that he was repeatedly forced to produce children he knew would be killed was one of the driving forces to cause him to hate the Agori.

This has most likely changed since the Reformation, although my story doesn't follow the Agori/Glatorian, so what changes have occurred are unknown.

Makuta pairs only remain together as long as child is being reared. A male will show his interest in a female by obsessively following her around and protecting her until she agrees to his advances. Once the child is reared, the two will likely remain friends, but it is unlikely they will still consider each other mates, or have a second child together, and other mating will likely be done with a different Makuta. Makuta have very little, if any, sense of jealousy for a partner having sex with someone else, but a Makuta will also not assist at all in raising offspring he suspects are not his.

In a Vorox/Zesk pack, the Zesk are free-mating and do not pair off. They perform mating actions on each other and the Vorox as a social bonding exercise, similar to bonobos. The Alpha Male Vorox will mate with any of his female Vorox, and will viciously attack other male Vorox who attempt to, even killing repeat offenders (he will ignore the horny male Zesk since they can't impregnate the female Vorox). Despite this, in a decently sized Vorox pack (averaging about 100), he cannot keep track of all females at all times, so only about 60-70% of Vorox babies are actually his. Despite this, as long as he mated the mother at least once, he will just assume her child is his even if it is not. Despite acting as if all Vorox babies in the pack are his, an Alpha Male will attack or kill disrespectful young, so most Vorox females keep their young away from the Alpha or panic if he is too close to their little ones. A new alpha taking over a pack will also kill up to half of the babies already present, sparing only those whose mothers put up a good enough fight that he considers it a waste of energy. However, outside of these rare circumstances, male Vorox, including the Alpha, are usually quite playful with young.

Malum cannot impregnate any of his Vorox, being a Glatorian. He knows the pack needs to grow in number, so when he suspects a female is in heat, he will carry out his duties as usual, and then "happen to not notice" any subordinate males who follow her off. If he sees the subordinate with the female, he must act and attack the male in order to keep his own position, but as long as he doesn't see the two mate, he can pretend he was unaware without risking his position.

Tune in next time for rambles about child-rearing and child-education.