#all my replies are queued up!!

[popcultr]

i have just updated my pinned post, but i'm on hiatus now, until the 15th october. as my mum is coming down tomorrow, to visit for the weekend & also it's my birthday weekend, my birthday is sunday!! wooohooo!! <33

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[luimagines]

Twilight holding injured demigod reader in his arms from the monster attack

"h-help me get back to camp so I can my bow and arrow" demigod reader managed to sputter out despite her holding her side which has a huge gash in the side.

Twilight shakes his head and he runs with her trying to get away from the monster. "You're injured! You cannot fight!"

"twilight, link look at me. I'm the only who will be able to defeat the monster. Please. As soon as I take care of it, I'll worry about my wound!"

Twilight frowns at them but he picks them up anyway.

"I don't like this." He says, but he can't do anything about it. "I know you're right but I don't like this."

He growls under his breath, booking it towards the camp and towards their weapon. "I hate how familiar this feels. Goodness, you're one of us whether we like it or not. Attitude and everything."

[unladielike]

Every once in a while, I'd remember @spiritpyro's Hayate mentioning in his internal monologue that he likes everything about Vivian, including even her personality and her speech patterns, which to this day, makes me emotional, because as a character, Vivian has gone through a lot... from characters getting pissed off at her for saying the wrong thing (thereby ending a thread prematurely) to characters outright not getting her humour and claiming she's unkind, even though it hadn't been her intention to offend them.

Granted, I don't really treat those as canon occurrences, because I'm not really a single verse blog, so any interactions from partners who have broken mutuals with me/deactivated/didn't follow me on my remade blog are null and void (meaning as far as Vivian is concerned, they have never occurred and will no longer be referenced in any threads/headcanon posts except for this one), but at the same time, I will lay in bed at night sometimes... and have this startling revelation that the way Vivian had been treated remarkably mirrors the experiences of most autistic people I've read about/heard from. Honestly, it's astounding to me how many on Reddit would describe similar struggles/feelings she also has, to the point where even though the RPC has a general distaste for slice-of-life muses, I still take comfort in the fact she is at least relatable.

Like, yeah, I might not be the most descriptive/poetic writer on this godforsaken site, but in my opinion, my characterization is where my writing truly shines best... and so, Hayate catching feelings for Vivian (despite me portraying both her flawed and endearing sides as a young, neurodivergent woman in her early twenties) is such a memorable thing to me, that I would find myself occasionally thinking about it even while I'm at work. I mean, granted, Vivian is nowhere near as dysfunctional as the main female lead from Asper Kanojo (That's My Atypical Girl), but it cannot be denied she is still very hard to love... to the point where Hayate pretty much fell out of love with her in an alternate universe.

Either way, it honestly hurt me on a deep, visceral level when Hayate was like, 'Fucking think before you speak', when they fought that one time, because autistic people will commonly be told that at some point in their lives... furthermore, Vivian had to hear that from someone she loves, so I can only imagine how betrayed she must have felt, especially since she already tries super hard when it comes to explaining things from her point of view and can only process her thoughts when speaking them due in part to her disability.

At the same time, though, it also makes me think that in the event Vivian and Hayate would romantically be together, this would realistically be a reoccurring issue within their relationship, where every time they would argue, she'd utter out stuff that would potentially annoy him, because according to Hayate, Vivian probably doesn't put a lot of thought into her words... so there would be instances where she would view him as an absolute alien. Still, knowing Vivian, I could also see the aftermath of their fights being one of those rare, few moments where she would wish she was more normal; after all, if she happened to be less difficult, Hayate might actually become less frustrated with her.

Since this is Hayate we're talking about, however, I could also see him potentially researching autism a bit more and slowly reaching a point where he would better understand Vivian, but either way, their relationship is one I always have fun, psycho-analyzing, because it's between an unpredictable, misanthrophic man and a manic, neurodivergent woman.

[hatredcurse]

I have a fatal addiction and it's called Armored Core 6.

[despairforme]

[more-than-a-princess]

Sonia Nevermind has appeared! What to do?

Run away

Pet

Fondle butt

Confess

[kkkindered]

[ who wants details of how delphine killed her husband? ]

[hechose]

.

[italianexotiicbeauty]

tag drop part one.

[vyrulent]

spare some memes?

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. toji cannot wait to break in his virgin girlfriend—though until then, he’ll settle for simply teasing you until you’re a trembling mess.

tags. toji fushiguro x virgin!female reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). corruption kink. dry humping? cum play. size difference. reader gets called ‘princess, doll’ queued

toji loves to tease you—you know that very well. he thrives off your reactions to his dirty words, the subtle yet naughty touches that he sneaks in during conversations, the seductive glint in his half lidded eyes whenever you’re around . . he knows what he’s doing.

even more so when you’re in his bed at night. you usually cuddle, sometimes make out and grind against each other, but nothing too lewd yet. toji doesn’t mind waiting to get a taste of you. he knows it will be worth the wait at the end.

but oh—is it difficult. so, so difficult. especially when you allow him access to more parts of your body.

“shit, princess,” he pants, hissing a bit when the mushroom tip of his cock bumps against your clothed clit, “y’re gettin’ so wet, huh? just by looking at my cock ‘n feeling it rub against your pussy.”

your cotton panties surely are damp with arousal; from both toji and you. his pre-cum mixes with your juices, ruining your favorite pair of panties. the wet spot forming near your slit only gets darker and darker the more you allow toji to rub his dick back and forth over your cunt.

“mngh—fuck. need you,” you whine, unable to fight the urge to buck your hips against his fat cock. your eyes dart up to your boyfriend to express your neediness, but he grabs your nape and guides your gaze back to his red tip pushing against your sloppy underwear.

toji lets out a dry chuckle. “i know y’ do. y’r pussy told me that long time ago,” he comments while he watches your adorable reactions to him pushing and pulling his cock from your clothed pussy. he’s only interested in you—the way your eyes glisten with tears and pleasure.

if it isn’t for his self control, he would have fucked you by now. but he’ll patiently wait until the perfect timing to push through that invisible wall, to pop your cherry while he looks you in the eyes, taking that innocence from you that he oh-so loves.

“want my cock, doll?” toji asks with a wicked grin. his large hands runs over your chest to your tummy. he guides his shaft over to your belly, measuring how much of your insides it would fill. “mm, yeah—would mess you up pretty bad,” he hums as the tip reaches your belly button. even further than that.

the thought excites the older man. to be your first, the first man who’ll mould your pussy to only fit his cock. no one else will have the honor of stripping you from your virginity.

“want it. want it all the way inside me,” you reply back, voice shaking with excitement. you’re going to cum soon from him simply grinding against your clothed cunt. your poor clit is continuously being circled and bumped against by his tip and it’s driving you crazy.

toji swallows thickly. “don’t ya tempt me like that,” he warns you in a dark tone. he runs a rough finger over your wet panties, keeping your legs spread wide with his knees. he easily finds your little hole as the cotton material sticks to your pussy, showing the outlines of your lips.

“might just push in here. .” toji murmurs as he positions the leaking head of his dick against your covered entrance, “. . and fill you up while hearing you scream my name. sounds good, ay?”

you gasp and feel your cunt clench around nothing. his hips move back and forth, shallow thrusts against the barrier that is your panties, mimicking the real thing. “y-yeah—oh, ‘m g’nna cum,” your heart rate picks up as your back arches off the mattress.

toji raises an eyebrow, secretly finding it endearing how that is the action that pushes you over the edge. you’re so adorable; simply thinking of him actually fucking you senseless and the feeling of his tip seeking your pussy is enough.

“aww, she’s gonna cum,” the dark-haired man snickers after mocking you. toji gauges your reactions and grins when he sees your head rolling back against the pillow.

“do y’ wanna cum together? we can,” he smirks as he leans down to intertwine your hands—playing the role of the gentle boyfriend who’s having sex with his girlfriend for the first time. he’s trying to give you the full experience while not actually giving it to you yet.

“y-yes, wanna cum together,” you nod mindlessly, your mouth feeling dry. you squeeze your eyes shut while also holding tightly onto toji’s hand. your pussy tightens up around air while your hips buck up to meet toji’s thrusts against your covered, wet hole.

“c-close—ngh, toji!” your eyes widen once his tip pressing snugly between your pussy lips. for a second it felt like his cock had successfully breached through your panties. that short-lived moment is enough to push you over the edge and cum on spot.

toji witnesses the bliss in your facial expression and he groans. “fuckkk—take it. g’nna cum all over ya princess,” he presses his hips firmly against yours, his full length resting right between your wet folds, ropes of cum spurting out of his aching tip.

you feel the sticky liquid stain your belly, running down to the waistband of your panties and even staining the front part. your choked up moans are music to your boyfriend’s ears while he calms down from his own orgasm.

his big biceps tremble as he holds himself up above you, grinning from ear to ear. “keheh, made a mess out of you,” toji’s voice is filled with pride. he lets you cling onto him for as long as you need to.

his eyes dart down to the sticky mess on your tummy and panties. the older man leans back on his knees to admire the view. he really couldn’t wait to actually slide inside of your tight cunt—but this will suffice for now. the sight of his cute girlfriend trembling and whimpering beneath him makes up for everything.

his fingers hook around the waistband of your panties. “can i look, doll?” toji asks in a gruff voice, desparate to see your glistening cunt. you weakly nod and he doesn’t waste any more time.

the sight greeting him when he pulls your underwear down is nearly enough to make him cum again. your juices are everywhere, multiple strings of wetness connecting your pussy to your panties. they snap one after the other as your panties are slowly removed.

“oh, y’re such a messy girl,” toji sighs, leaning down to kiss your tummy, licking up some of his own cum. you shiver and your hands dart out to hold onto his black hair. he chuckles at the gesture, humming in acknowledgement.

his eyes darken when he catches a glimpse of your sopping pussy again. he’s so close to it — so extremely close. his gaze darts over to a drop of his cum that threatens to slide down and over your clit. the heat and smell of your cunt is driving that man to the brink of insanity.

toji lolls his tongue out, eyes glistening with desire while he pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, big hands holding onto your hips. drool gathers in the corners of his mouth as his face hovers right between your legs;

“mind if i have a taste of you, princess? jus’ a quick one, i promise.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

I was wondering if you could do a fic where the reader is pregnant with Aegons baby but when he usurps the throne she and Jace pretend the baby is his so she doesn’t have to face consequences for sleeping with Aegon 🫶🏼

I'm back from my trip and back to writing/posting!! I hope you enjoyed the requests I had queued while I was away

Warnings: mention of pregnancy

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Standing in your nightgown, you looked down where your belly would swell very soon, your hand covering the slightest curve. A babe was growing there. A little babe with white hair and dark eyes, like the one in your dream. A perfect mix of you and Aegon. 

You’ve known for two moons that you were with child, but had not been able to tell anyone. When your bloodmoon was late, you thought of going to King’s Landing and tell Aegon in person, but the King drew his last breath and the Greens usurped your mother’s throne before you could get on your dragon. 

You’ve been hiding your secret under your clothes, but your belly was starting to grow and show through your looser dresses. You could no longer keep your pregnancy a secret. 

The issue was, you could not tell Aegon. The Greens would make the babe a part of the war and tell their supporters that Rhaenyra was keeping Aegon from his child, and you didn’t wish that. You wanted this unborn babe to be safe. 

So you told Jacaerys. 

There is nothing Jacaerys would not do to protect his twin sister. He would throw himself in front of a fire to shield you and commit war crimes for you. 

You jumped when you heard another knock on your door, immediately removing your hand from your belly. You assumed it was one of the servants asking if you wanted your evening meal brought up to your chamber, but the knock was different. Special. 

‘’Come.’’ You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, erasing all traces of tears.

The door opened and Jacaerys stepped in, dressed in his riding gear. You could smell the dragon from across the room, meaning he must have been in Vermax’s company. 

‘’Have you spoken to Mother about my plan?’’ he asked after closing the door. ‘’I know we said we would never wed each other, but I see no other option than to claim the babe as mine.’’ 

As he spoke of the babe in your belly, your hand fell to protectively lay over your stomach as it was before Jacaerys came in. You shook your head, and he noticed the tear stains on your face and the signs or irritation around your eyes.

A pained look crossed his face.  ‘’Have you been crying?’’ 

You turned your head away from him, confirming his guess. 

‘’Sister...’’ His voice was gentle as he stepped forward, a soft hand being placed over your hip, but you shrugged him off, refusing to look him in the face. ‘’I promised I would protect you and the babe. You need not to worry anymore.’’

You shake your head, the tears already welling in your eyes again. ‘’What if the babe has white hair? How will we explain that to the realm, Jace?’’ 

‘’We’ll say nothing. Like Mother did when we came out of her womb with dark hair,’’ he replied. 

‘’I refuse for my child to have their legitimacy put into question and live through the same accusations we went through as children.’’

Your little affair with Aegon was a secret to most. All thought that you were just close, not close. If a babe with white hair came out of your womb, Alicent will know. She will either request Aegon to claim the bastard child or have the babe slain so, in case it was a boy, you would not try to claim the throne.

You felt sick at the thought of the latter. Aegon would never allow the death of his child. He loved you.

Jacaerys pulled you into an embrace, no words coming out of his mouth. He let you bury your head in his shoulder and silently cry for as long as you needed. 

‘’I won’t let it happen,’’ he assured, feeling the soft curve of your belly pressing against his stomach. ‘’No matter what anyone says or does, I promise I will always be by your side, raising, loving and defending this babe as strongly as I would defend you. I will never allow anyone to harm him or her.’’

—

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[unladielike]

    Considering the burgers themselves were very much based on Japanese cuisine, Vivian had been excited to see Mizumachi's reaction to the food truck... and just as she had predicted, it seemed he was pretty psyched, causing her to curl both hands into fists she'll subsequently prop up through the air.

    "Right?! I knew you would like it!" came her triumphant proclamation. Why, Japan might be a much cheaper place to live in compared to Vancouver, but it does admittedly have it's charms, which was something she hopes to have sufficiently conveyed to Mizumachi. Though, given how loudly his stomach then proceeded to grumble away, Vivian supposes that was enough of an actual indicator to prove he wasn't currently feeling all that homesick, and with a laugh, she'll hastily trail after him.

    "Hey, relax! It's not as if the food truck would suddenly grow legs and run away, you know?" Vivian playfully teases before settling to an eventual halt beside him. By that point, one other individual happens to be waiting in line ahead of them due to the fact he had gotten there first after the last customer left, meaning on a rather fortunate note, they wouldn't have to tolerate a super long line. "Anyways... you good with me ordering us ten teriyaki cheese burgers?" Vivian goes on to question.

    "Oh, and while we're at it, how about some soda as well, so the salt from all those burgers won't make us dehydrated? Then again, I guess water would do a better job at quenching our future thirst... still, good ol' H20 just doesn't hit the same compared to Coke; therefore, I'm inclined to believe the more appropriate refreshment would be something less healthier. What about you, though, Kenny? Which beverage would you rather pick?"

[水]

"Haha! I know someone who could eat like 20 burgers."

Mizumachi nods his head sagely, in total agreement with her assessment about the fries. He could still eat 5 burgers along with fries on a regular day, but he did try to consume more burgers than he did fries. Eating too many oily foods weren’t good for athletes, but he had to get his source of calories and meat from somewhere!

“That’s a healthy appetite! That’s a good thing!”

He knew a few girls on the cheerleading team who basically ate like rabbits because they cared a lot for their figure, and it was a bit worrying at times. It was good to know that Vivian wasn’t going to be starving herself because she was worried about her image. The teriyaki cheese burgers sounded so good though that he was already salivating at the thought.

Was paying for the meal a manly thing? Yeah, he could see it. In many countries it was socially the norm that the guy pays for the meals if he’s out with a woman, right? Manners and all that?

“Yeah, that makes sense. Do you hang out with guys more than girls, then?”

He asked because she said something about feeling like she was ‘one of the boys,’ and it made him curious about who she normally hung out with. Of course, there was absolutely nothing wrong in his eyes for a girl to have lots of guy friends (what, with most football club managers being girls?), but he did hear some people call that a flag or whatever. Just sounds like insecure dudes to him.

“Wooww! It looks great! Smells great too!”

He was just salivating a little bit before, but now he was at risk of drooling buckets from the smell. His stomach was just as excited if the sound of his stomach grumbling loudly was any indication.

“Let’s go!”

He basically zooms over to the food truck looking for the end of the line to stand at the end. With his long legs, his strides were large and fast. Perks of being tall.

[vi-steponmeplease]

YOU'RE LOSING ME

pairings - overwhelmed!billie x caring!reader

genre - angst, fluff near the end

synopsis: billie returns from a week-long trip to korea, leading to an intense argument that threatens your relationship.

tw: slight emotional abuse, relationship conflict, reader and billie are in an established relationship, billie calls reader clingy

word count: 2.7K

and the air is thick with loss and indecision i know my pain is such an imposition

⟡

i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier

✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧

As the first rays of sunlight stream through the curtains, you slowly open your eyes, your vision blurry for a few seconds as you gaze out the window. Extending your arm, you touch the empty spot on the sheets beside you—cold and untouched.

Your girlfriend Billie has been in Korea for what feels like forever, though it’s only been a week. Her long-awaited album just dropped, and she’s been consumed with interviews and appearances. She hasn’t been responding to your texts much, leaving you feeling lonely. Still, you remind yourself how hard she’s working and try not to let it bother you too much.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you shuffle to the bathroom, turning on the tap to run a warm bath. Back in your room, you grab the hoodie Billie gave you before she left. Her signature scent still lingers, drawing a small, bittersweet smile to your face as your chest tightens with longing. You slip it on over matching sweatpants, preparing for a strawberry-scented bath to shake off the ache of missing her.

Today’s the day Billie finally comes home. The thought brings a flicker of excitement, breaking through the gloom of the past week. You've been counting down the hours, longing for the moment you'd see her walk through the door, ready to wrap her in your arms. You’d planned everything—dinner, her favorite movie, and the kind of quiet, comforting night you know she loves.

You’ve spent the whole morning searching Instagram for recipes, carefully selecting her favorites. After your bath, you tie your hair up into a ponytail and get to work, letting the rhythmic hum of a Clairo playlist fill the air.

Two hours pass, and you’ve prepared mashed potatoes, a fresh salad, and a pot of pasta with vegan meatballs. The table is set, the living room prepared, and her favorite movie is paused on the TV.

At about 6 PM, the sound of keys jangling at the door makes your heart leap as you set two plates on the coffee table. You rush to greet her, a bright smile on your face as the door swings open. There she is—Billie, standing with her luggage in hand, looking as stunning as ever.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft but distant, her expression tired.

“Hi, baby,” you reply warmly. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” she says, forcing a small smile. But there’s no hug, no kiss, no affectionate greeting. Your stomach knots at the coldness in her demeanor.

“How was your trip?”

“Busy. Lots of interviews.” Her tone is flat, almost disinterested as she runs a hand through her black hair.

“I made you dinner,” you say, stepping aside to reveal the table you’d prepared. The sight of her favorite dishes and the movie queued up for the night should’ve brought a smile to her face, but instead, she sighs, rubbing her forehead.

“That’s great, baby, but I think I’ll pass.”

Your smile falters, but you quickly push aside the sting, which is instantly overpowered by your care. Checking on her is one of your priorities, and you know her well. You two have been together for a year and a half, so by now, you can immediately tell when something's wrong. “Are you okay? You seem... off.”

“I’m just tired,” Billie mutters, avoiding your gaze.

“Well, we can relax on the couch, eat something, watch the movie—”

“I wanna be alone, Y/N,” she interrupts sharply. Her tone cuts through you, the weight of her words hitting harder than you expect. “You’re going to want to cuddle and... I’m just not in the mood.”

“Oh.” The hurt threatens to spill over, but you swallow it down. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t do that,” she snaps, crossing her arms as her piercing gaze meets your confused expression. “Don’t guilt-trip me like this.”

“I’m not trying to guilt-trip you,” you reply softly. “I just—”

“Just drop it, okay?” she says firmly.

You hesitate, but something inside you refuses to let it go. “Okay, no. You don’t get to treat me like this after I’ve spent all day trying to make things nice for you. I know you’re tired, but that doesn’t mean you can push me away.”

“I didn’t ask you to do any of this,” Billie says, gesturing dismissively at the table. “You’re the one who went overboard.”

“Because I care about you,” you argue, stepping closer. “Because I wanted to make you feel better after a long week. All I wanted was to spend some time together, but apparently, that’s too much to ask.”

Billie’s eyes narrow. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” You throw your hands up in frustration. “You’ve barely answered my texts, you’ve been distant all week, and now you’re acting like I’m the problem for wanting to spend time with my girlfriend.”

You almost can't recognize the person in front of you. Is this why she'd been so cold lately? Usually, after long trips like this, she'd get extremely clingy, refusing to leave your side while repeatedly claiming how much she'd missed you and peppering your face with a billion kisses.

"I've been busy, Y/N. You can't expect me to be on my phone 24/7," she argues, a frustrated groan slipping out. "What, are you gonna strangle me for doing my job?"

"Billie," you resolutely call out as you cross your arms defensively. "When have I ever not been understanding to your circumstances? I know how hard you work, and I know your job means you gotta travel around the world. And I've always been okay with that."

She lets out a dry laugh, her tone dripping with exasperation. "So, why are you acting so goddamn needy right now?"

The word hits like a slap. She knows how much that word cuts you, how deeply it taps into your insecurities.

"Why are you being so unbearable right now?" you retort, matching the volume of her tone. Not yelling, but not calm either.

"Just stop it. You're making a big deal out of nothing—"

"No, I'm not. Stop trying to make me sound crazy."

You make your way to the kitchen and grab a glass cup from the dish rack, filling it up with cold water before taking a sip. Your throat had begun to to run dry since you haven't eaten or had anything to drink all day. "You could've been nicer about it. Why are you acting surprised and attacking me for wanting to spend time with you after a week apart?"

billie follows you and leans against the counter, feigning indifference as you stare at her from the other side of the kitchen, your eyes scorching with fury. "A week's not that long."

You scoff after setting the cup on the counter in front of you. "Yeah, says you who literally couldn't wait for me to come home after I slept over at my sister's house for two days."

"That's different." She rolls her eyes and prods her tongue against the inside of her cheek. The audacity leaves you speechless for a second before you regain your composure.

"What changed?" You shake your head in disbelief as you replay the memories of the sweet nothings she would whisper in your ear after being gone for so long. Whether she'd be gone on tour for a month, or if she'd just go visit her parents and Finneas for the weekend, she'd always return to you. "Why are you acting so weird?"

Billie lets out a pained sigh as she shuts her eyes tightly, hoping this moment would just disappear. This is the first time you've seen her show a single emotion other than apathy the whole time she's been back. "I think..." she trails off, not knowing how to correctly word the sentence on the tip of her tongue.

"You think what?" you ask, growing a little impatient as you watch her part her lips again.

"I can’t do this anymore,” she says, the words spilling out like venom. “I think we need a break.”

Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. "What the fuck?"

Rounding the corner of the counter, you gently reach out to hold her hands, but she withdraws herself and steps further away. The room seems to tilt as her words sink in. "Where the hell is this coming from?"

“I just... I can’t be in a relationship right now. It’s too much.”

Your voice breaks as tears blur your vision. “Billie, please. We can figure this out—”

“It’s not up to you,” she says, her tone colder than you’ve ever heard it.

“Don’t do this,” you plead. Never in a million years did you picture tonight ending this way, with you practically begging her to take you back.

She steps back, shaking her head, her emotionless blue orbs meet yours, damp and red. “I need space.”

"If you just listened when I told you to leave me alone earlier, this wouldn't be happening right now." Billie's voice rises, although she's never yelled at you before. Every time you two would argue, she'd still try her best to steer clear of doing or saying anything she might regret afterwards.

"Don't you fucking blame me," you yell back, your knuckles turning white as you tighten your grip on the edge of the counter. "I just wanted to spend the night with my girlfriend after being away from each other for so long. You're the one who—"

She lets out another humorless chuckle as she steps forward, leaning closer until your faces are mere inches apart. "Say one more fucking word and I'm never coming home again." She watches your furious expression falter as your eyebrows scrunch together, a crease forming in your forehead. You remain silent and that's when she pulls back. "That's what I fucking thought."

You lower your gaze as she moves out of your view, striding towards your shared bedroom. All you hear is the sound of her footsteps padding across the ceramic floor tiles and trailing further from where you helplessly stand, before you hear the door slam. The sound reverberates through the house, leaving you frozen in place.

Your reticence lingers for a few minutes, almost as if you're too afraid to utter a single word or she'd walk out on you. A quiet sob escapes your lips when your legs give out and you slump onto a stool, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally fall.

The food's cold. It's all you can think about.

The food you spent all of last night planning out, and most of today to make. It's cold. Untouched.

Her words from earlier hit you like cinder blocks. The weight of each sentence uttered makes your heart sink further into your chest as if it's been attached to an anchor.

Questions flood your mind, each one heavier than the last. What went wrong? Was it something you did? How long has she felt this way?

You sit there for hours, drowning in your thoughts, wondering if she’s lying awake like you are, or if she’s already moved on—emotionally gone from what once felt unbreakable.

This isn't something she'd ever normally do. Billie's the most gentle person, especially with you. She'd never do anything to hurt you.

Hues of red and orange begin to spill through the living room window, painting the walls with soft, warm light. You take a shaky breath, turning your head to the window. The sunrise is breathtakingly beautiful—an ironic contrast to the emotional storm you've just endured through one of the worst nights of your life.

You sniffle quietly, wiping away the lingering tears with the back of your hand, your lips trembling from the strain of holding back sobs.

In the bedroom, Billie sits on the edge of the bed, knees drawn to her chest as she stares blankly at the wall. The faint light of the bedside lamp reflects the glimmer of dried tears streaked across her cheeks. She hadn’t bothered to turn it off, too lost in her own thoughts. Her lips are pressed into a remorseful line, her usual confidence replaced with raw guilt. She knows she messed up—knows she acted ungrateful when all you wanted was her.

A heavy sigh escapes her as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, forcing herself to get up. Thirst claws at her throat, but so does the anxiety of facing you. Deep down, she half-expects you to be gone by now—out of the house and her life for good after everything she said. But as she shuffles into the living room, Billie’s breath catches when she sees you still there, perched on the same stool by the counter where she’d left you hours ago.

Her stomach twists as she takes in your figure: slouched shoulders, tired eyes, and the faint, broken sniffles that fill the otherwise silent space. Each sound cuts deeper into her chest. She hesitates for a moment, her hand twitching as she reaches out, wanting to comfort you, but unsure if she even deserves to. Slowly, she steps closer, finally giving in to the ache in her heart.

Tentatively, Billie wraps her arms around you from behind. You flinch slightly, startled by the touch, a quiet gasp escaping your lips. It's the last thing you expected.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby. You have no idea,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. Her grip tightens as though afraid you might slip away. “I don’t know what got into me last night. I never should’ve yelled at you or called you needy. You just wanted to be with me, and I—I was awful. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for what I did.”

Your chest heaves, struggling to regulate your breathing. You can’t bring yourself to speak, the lump in your throat too heavy. After a long beat of silence, Billie pulls back slightly, moving to face you. Gently, she tilts your chin up, her heart sinking when she sees the toll her words took on you—your puffy, tear-streaked face, trembling lips, and bloodshot eyes.

Her hands cup your cheeks, her thumbs brushing away the dampness. “I did this to you,” she says, her voice barely audible, as if scolding herself. “I made you cry.”

“Was I… too much?” you croak, your voice cracking. The question hangs in the air, fragile and weighted with insecurity. “Too clingy?”

Billie’s brows knit tightly, and she shakes her head vehemently. “No. Never. You’re never too much, love. I’m so sorry.” She rests her forehead against yours, her voice soft but firm. “I’ll never lash out at you like that again. I promise.”

“It’s seven,” you whisper hoarsely, your voice still trembling.

Her eyes widen slightly. “You spent all night here crying?”

You nod wordlessly, and she exhales shakily, guilt washing over her anew. Without hesitation, Billie takes your hands, guiding you off the stool. “Come on,” she murmurs gently, leading you back toward the bedroom. As the door shuts softly behind you, she repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

You chuckle faintly, the sound raw and tired. “You’ve said that a billion times.”

“And I’ll say it a trillion more if that’s what it takes,” she replies, her lips curving into a soft smile as she wraps her arms securely around your waist. Her tone grows tender. “I love you. You’re never, ever too much for me.”

The warmth of her words soothes your aching heart, though the memory of the night still lingers. “You said you wanted a break,” you remind her, your voice a fragile whisper.

“I don’t,” she says quickly, her gaze earnest. “I was overwhelmed and stressed with everything. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That’s on me.” Her fingers gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch featherlight. “But I don’t want a break. I want you. I'm sor—"

You shake your head, letting out a fragile laugh. “If you apologize again, I swear—”

Billie cuts you off with a soft, passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of regret and love into the moment. Your hands instinctively move to her shoulders, pulling her closer, grounding yourself in her warmth.

When she finally pulls away, she rests her forehead against yours, her blue eyes shining with affection and sincerity. “Let’s get some sleep, baby,” she whispers, her voice like a balm to your soul.

And for the first time that night, you feel the weight on your chest begin to lift.

[occamstfs]

Talismen II: Gamer Grows Up

One episode of toxity too many leaves Nicky forcing Rick on a journey to maturity despite his best attempts to remain an asshole

Hope you enjoy! I’m always very happy with my bear TF’s haha! Hope you all feel similarly :) Same deal as last time, I’ll throw a poll up on Sunday the 8th and we’ll keep the ball rolling! Best! -Occam

Doing his best to put down subconscious alarm bells that something amiss has happened to his boyfriend, Nicky gets back to the main event of his morning: running it down in League. It’s not intentional of course, his duo and friend Louis was trying something new and he clearly should have spent some time in the practice tool before queuing up. In call, Louis is uncharacteristically sullen, trying to salvage both the mood and game, Nicky alternates between giving gameplay tips and trying to raise his friend’s spirits, “It’s just a completely different playstyle Lew. Besides, it’s just a norm, not like anyone’s gonna flame-” 

Little did the kindly magician know, before the words even finished falling from his mouth that elsewhere in town, Rick, their less than pleasant mid-laner had begun typing up quite vehement digs directed at the struggling bot duo:

[Team] Yasuoorbust: Are you fckrs 14 or what????? Fckn L2P 

Nicky’s lips tighten into a grimace as he hears a sigh loud and clear over discord, followed promptly by the familiar in-game announcement: An Ally was Slain accompanied by his support’s portrait. This, of course, immediately incited another outburst from their needlessly aggro teammate. The game proceeds like this for a good while. After racking up a handful more deaths and a good deal more insults from the midlaner, Louis is over it and implores Nicky to just mute and move on. Jaw-clenched and blood boiling irrationally, Nicholas instead opts to fire back, 

[All] Heartstolen: Guys can you report Yas- He’s been flaming my sup all game.

[Team] Yasuoorbust: LMAOOOO fckn litttle btch

[Team] Yasuoorbust: *****

Reaching the fifteen minute mark, the ticket out arrives and Louis immediately throws up a surrender vote. Clearly he wasn’t ready to Sett support and would promptly be getting back to his pool of enchanters and mages next game. Before freedom arrives however, Rick lobs a few more clearly bannable slurs at Louis that the support doesn’t see. Nicky, before submitting the final surrender vote, sees red in more ways than one. Eyes glimmering and fingertips burning crimson as he sets to type a message directly to the asshole.

(whisper) To Yassuoorbust: Chill out dude. It’s a game. Grow Up.

Laughing at the response, as trolls are wont to do, Rick smirks and begins to lambast the perceived loser before hesitating. He’s never seen red text like that in game. Hesitating, he’s caught off-guard and hasn’t a chance to reply before he sees their nexus blowing up and the announcer finally calls it: Defeat. Still distracted from seeing the bizarre message from the ADC, Rick doesn’t make it to the lobby before the duo have left and blocked him, preventing him from flaming them any further or contacting them at all.

“Whatever-” Rick whispers to himself alone in his bedroom, illuminated only by the blue light from his computer screen. Hearing the cold wind of an empty lobby in his headset, Rick scoffs and rubs at his monitor as he sees a red smudge on the screen. If he didn’t know any better he’d swear it’s exactly the spot on the screen where that pussy’s little message was. He licks his thumb and goes to wipe it off. When his spit covered thumb makes contact he’s filled with a bizarre sensation. A shiver, rather than a shock, courses through him. Hands go numb and an uncomfortable prickly burning fills his chest. He struggles to breath and his eyes go wide as he experiences anxiety for the first time, amplified to a degree beyond overwhelming. 

Gasping, he clutches at his ratty shirt and his whole screen flashes red before, just as quickly as it began, it’s over. Catching his breath the feeling in his hands returns and he grimaces as they sting with pain from being clenched far too hard. Looking back at the league client he briefly imagines closing it and going to do something that even has the semblance of productivity. Instead, he shakes out his hands and clicks through to queue up once more, winning will make him right as rain. He’s sure of it.

Once in game it becomes more than clear that this is not to be the case. At every opportunity the shoe is on quite the other foot for the troll. The champion he hovered was banned, he was immediately first blooded, both the enemy team and his own gang up to taunt and tilt him. Worse yet, anytime he opens chat to aggress, or even just to defend himself, he’s struck with a searing headache. His hands keep cramping up and he’s fat fingered more abilities than he’s hit. Despite years of dedication to the game, Rick is playing at a level that even a CPU would struggle to lose to.

His head burns with rage and his jaw remains clenched in so much fury that it’s a wonder it won’t lock up like that. About halfway through a game where he has spent more time waiting to respawn then playing Rick finds more discomfort begin to arise each time the irksome retort from Nicky returns, Grow up. His whole torso begins to itch, almost as if he were allergic to the stained t-shirt he had been wearing for two days straight. Forcing a greasy hand under his shirt to get at his skin, he is thoroughly shocked to find it suddenly dragging through a treasure trail rising well past his belly button. The shock almost knocks him out of his gamer chair, he tugs at a hair or two and sharply exhales as he yanks a strand from the new forest slowly inching its way up towards his chest. 

Before he can examine it to discover the prodigious length he respawns and gets his head back in the game. Or at least he tries to. He has to take his headset off as the volume makes his headache worse. When the enemy jungler goes in on him, he furrows his brow in confusion as she uses abilities he can’t even discern. Rick scratches at his chin as his foggy mind struggles to even name the champion that has just killed him. Grey screened once more he puts his head in his hands and groans as playing the game any longer becomes untenable. He throws up a surrender vote and is promptly mocked for doing so. 

Punching the table in irritation he scratches at his chest through his shirt and taps his foot impatiently as he waits for the game to end on its own. Pulling at his shirt to let air into his hot, itchy chest he fans his body odor upwards and grimaces as pits seem to be harboring a stink that his axe body spray wouldn’t be able to cover. When the enemy team finally wins the game he kicks back from his chair and races to the bathroom, struggling to get his shirt off en route as it gets trapped on his sweaty back. Never could he be prepared for the sight he finds upon his arrival.

Where his pale thin chest once was barren, where it should still be hairless, there is now a contiguous line of body hair from his pubes to his collarbones. His lanky fingers and sweaty palms drag across his stomach and his lips twitch to stop from grinning in excitement at finally having any real form of masculinity to point towards. The toxic gamer immediately grabs his phone to snap a picture of his new form, performing some clearly forced, jaw-forward expression to highlight how manly he is now. 

There are butterflies in his stomach as his fingers continue to play with the hair in the center of his chest. Trailing to the lengthier and thicker forest in his pits he purses his lips as he begins to consider how this possibly could have happened on such short notice, maybe it is an allergic reaction? He closes his eyes in concentration and the words flash in his mind once more, Grow Up. Before he can react to this there is a ping on his computer and he races to find, just as Nicky had predicted, his account has been banned for the week. 

“What the fuuUUCk!” He doesn’t even blush as his voice cracks, assuming it to be from his heightened emotional state rather than the Adam's apple for the first time bobbing on his neck. The gamer rubs his face in anguish, not noticing rougher cheeks due to his sorry state as the faintest hints of facial hair begin to descend into almost noticeable sideburns. Instead, a distraction comes in the form of a painfully rumbling stomach. Rick’s dull eyes stare blankly ahead as he briefly tries to recall the last time he ate.

With a sigh he turns and heads off to grab something from his surly barren kitchen to eat. His dominant hand continues to dance across his newly hairy torso, as if he were worried that if it left, so too would his recently sprouted forest. Strangely enough though, with each ambling step it feels less out of place on his stomach. His head tilts as even his dull mind is able to notice the change. He’s- He’s always had a pretty hair chest right? It can’t have just popped up overnight? That’s not, it’s not possible. He scratches into his chest and stomach, feeling his nails catch and drag against dark strands spreading out further across his chest. Still growing and thickening as he arrives at his fridge.

Rick doesn’t know why he’s shocked to find it empty? Not like he’s ever lived any differently. He’s always ordering food delivered, the most complicated dish he’s ever cooked for himself is canned tomato soup alongside a grilled cheese. When his stomach rumbles once more, he grits his teeth and tears open his cabinet to find all one might expect in a man of his ilk’s pantry; a few packages of instant ramen and a litany of half eaten bags of chips. For the first time all day the usual ire at the world turns inward as he chews himself out for living so irresponsibly as he starts water boiling. 

Throwing a few packages of noodles into the pot as it begins to bubble, Rick starts impatiently fisting stale chips into his mouth. Struggling to satiate a hunger greater than he can understand, he grapples with the alien impulse that this is not how things should be. Something deep within him swears he is more responsible than this, that he is more mature than this. He groans and stumbles, feeling woozy from reconciling how things should be against how they clearly are, he drops the chip bag he was holding and it glides to the floor empty. 

He’s brought back to reality as he hears the water boil over onto the stovetop, which he quickly takes off the burner. Stranger still, something begins to bubble up within himself. While not quite sustenance, the few chip bags scattered at his feet seem to have been enough food to give him indigestion. Rick’s fist goes to his mouth as he struggles against an oppressive urge to burp. Trying to push it down or quiet it in any way only makes the pressure more intense as he feels more bloated with each slowly passing second. After wondering why he’s stopping himself from burping at all, he gives in and releases a burp loud enough to get noise complaints. After the first escapes more are soon to follow. And with each mind-numbing release he impossibly feels more bloated.

When at last he gets peace from his gas, Rick starts to check on his noodles before being distracted by new weight sticking out from his chest. His lips again quiver into a smile and his eyes widen in wonder as his hands move to clutch the unequivocal pecs now bulging off a chest that has never held even an ounce of weight before. Only then does he notice that his chest is not the only place where muscle has begun to pile on, underneath the same dark curls that decorate his chest biceps thicken and forearms surge with strength. Hands whose only use has been tapping on a keyboard suddenly widen as, away from his eyeline, thighs and glutes bulk with haste. 

The momentary self-flagellation at his lazy lifestyle immediately vacates as, at the miracle of transformation, he returns to his arrogant, needlessly cruel mindset. His eyes glimmer with pride as he flexes just to smirk at strength that has been bestowed unto his unworthy self. Tossing ramen sloppily into a bowl he aways back to his gamer station as he is filled with a prideful desire to show those fuckers who they messed with. 

Rick slurps noodles from his bowl as he leaves the kitchen in its sorry state, trash scattered on the floor. With each bite hair continues to spread and muscle continues to pile on. Eating like an animal, he wipes his mouth on his newly muscular shoulder and smirks wide enough to strain his face as he feels stubble outright growing into a beard. “Grow up that little fuck said- Oh I grew up alright!” His voice rumbles deep in his chest as he sits down, getting hard at how much of a man he suddenly sounds. How much of a man he suddenly is. 

Anticipation fills him as he wakes his computer back up to go be absolutely needlessly toxic to people who have not spent a second thinking about him after blocking and moving on. With his mind turning to the pathetic work of mocking his fellow man, his free hand instead turns to fondle a growing cock that has finally begun to rear its head. Heavy balls pulse beneath his dick growing at an explosive rate and his is racked with pleasure more intense and consuming than he could ever fathom before his new form. Bulging veins press into his hand as his cock struggles to harden and rise even further above a thicket of pubes.

For a moment Rick’s so lost in his reverie that he totally forgets why he has made his way over to his computer. Seeing his sneering reflection he remembers as he turns it back on to log onto the rift and show those beta-bastards a real dick- er man. Only? What was he logging into again? Perhaps it's from his lust-addled mind but he simply cannot find the game anywhere on his desktop. His eyes strain as he scans the screen and drool nearly drips from his mouth as he continues to paw at his actually dripping cock. When he sees an icon for his webcam his priorities shift as he decides to demonstrate his superiority in a far more direct manner.

Camera on, Rick begins posing in every way his hitherto camerashy mind can imagine. Through the years he’s at least consumed a fair deal of thirst traps after all- Mostly of uh, women though? Yeah. He shakes off his momentary questioning to get back to what matters. How fucking hot he is. Exhibiting a pride even greater than before, he is far too absorbed in seeing just how high his new bicep can peak, how large his new cock looks on camera, how his scratchy new hair feels in his hand, to notice a harsh crimson glow seep along the border of his monitor. His mouth falls open and hips barely stay from bucking as he continues to feel himself up, languish in his powerful warm muscle and appreciate the deep, slow moans that echo throughout his bedroom.

Only when he notices the red light accentuating his bulging veins in a new way does he see the deep red light issuing forth from the screen. Rick sucks up the drool that almost pooled out of his mouth and grunts in irritation as he sets to investigate whatever virus or program seems to be affecting his PC. Even in his distracted, embarrassingly horny, state he’s unable to quiet the fear as two words return with a vengeance to fill his screen. Grow Up. He blinks and it's written again, then again. In no time at all the words spread to blot out and cover every inch of the screen.

Rick is barely present enough to respond to the bizarre stimuli, when he aimlessly repeats it in his new plodding voice that belies not a single thought bouncing around, “g-grow, uh? Up?” his whole body jerks and he clutches at his stomach as once more it begins to bloat. The gamer groans as weight begins to pile onto his only just strengthened core. Abs are quickly hidden behind a healthy layer of fat, making up for years, decades, of unintentional malnourishment behind a computer screen. Grow up. Apparent years of hunching over a keyboard rear their head as back pain sears through him. His newly grown garden of body hair rapidly spreads to become a jungle of fur he couldn’t control or manscape if he wanted to. 

Lying there moaning and groaning, there’s suddenly a sharp inhale as his head sears with the pain of dozens of hangover’s at once. Rick’s vision blurs and goes spotty as he tries to stand and make his way to bed. Inside his mind, hidden by an echoing chorus of Grow Up, the line between what is and is not begins to blur. The gamer almost cries as things he views as vital importance are sucked from his mind. Long hours spent researching optimal build paths and thoughtlessly mimicking tricks he saw streamers do vacate as his balls grow heavy with desire. The twin bed creaks under his new weight as he continues to grow even still.

Face down, muffling his moans, Rick is unaware as the world similarly begins to shift around him. His gamer station, the epicenter of his changes, is the first to go. RGB lighting and his gamer chair fade and contort into a workstation befitting a not-so-young professional of good breeding. Wrappers and other assorted trash blow off his desk and into a trash can that sits precisely where his Ps5 once gathered dust. His pile of unwashed laundry folds itself and flies into a closet as cheap, not even comfortable, clothes expand to fit his larger body and alter into relatively expensive, and elastic, fabrics.

Still lying in bed, pain gives way to pleasure as he has no choice but to welcome the loss of identity. Thicker hands clutch his bedspread as his bed bursts into a queen size and he begins humping into it. Powerful thighs and a heavy core thrust up and down as his balls almost burn with a need for release, a compulsion to cum. His eyes cross as he becomes so set on this end that he doesn’t feel the sheets changing underneath him, see pictures appearing on the wall, hear the sound of the world changing from his abject situation into something better. He does not notice as he changes to someone more mature.

It is not long before he indeed loses control. His new silky sheets are stained and his hairy stomach splattered as his thick arms lose strength and he falls down into his mess. Having spent far more energy than he had stored on this session, Rich passes out and his snores echo deep. His expanded diaphragm pushes against the bed as he produces enough sound that it would be a wonder that anyone would sleep alongside him and yet, unbeknownst to him, reality has plans far greater than the pointedly cruel man would ever deserve had Nicky not willed him better, willed for him better. Despite himself, the hands of a greater man tuck him in as crows feet and smile lines begin to etch themselves around his sleepful eyes.

When he awakens from the most fitful slumber he has perhaps ever experienced, Rich struggles against a mind slow and foggy, as expected when one wakes to a new world. Bleary eyes look out into something impossibly unrecognizable, and yet truer than himself. Groaning and scratching at his hairy belly and itchy ass, Rich walks past a note left on his desk to instead brush his teeth and wash his face. Minty foam soon filling his mouth and falling into his beard he smiles and once more flexes in the mirror with a healthy amount of affection for himself.

Spitting into the sink and wiping his beard clean with a hand towel he sees a second toothbrush sitting in a toothbrush holder and freezes. That can’t- Who? His mind races to recall something that he knows, something, someone he should know. Does he live with someone? When did he even get a toothbrush holder, he’d never- His eyes clench as some deeply ingrained instinct of never even putting forth the smallest effort on propriety, order, or cleanliness. I mean, what is he? Gay?

He lurches forward, only just catching himself on the bathroom counter as his mind stings and his face burns. Looking back up at his reflection, one eye jammed shut from pain he forces a smirk and begins laughing, well, duh? His belly jiggles as he lets loose a deep throated laugh and pats it, winking. Flickering back to the toothbrush a misty figure in his mind begins to fill out, become more real. No time to dwell on the matter as his stomach rumbles and he is instantly aware of a hunger that he must fill like anyone else alive. 

Despite something in him trying to compel him into the kitchen to prepare food he recalls the all too real memory of making all the ramen he had left last night and instead dials up the chinese food restaurant next door- “Hey Hi- This is Alex with Wok-n-Talk! What can we do for ya!” Rich clears his throat, “Ahm- Afternoon Alex I-” before he even finishes his sentence he freezes up once more, that’s not- He must have a cold. His veins chill as he tries to reconcile the crackle of age that sounds like an alarm in his husky voice.

Fortunately for the man, Alex speaks up to save him, “Ah! Afternoon indeed Mr. Adams! Hope things are well! Y’all just getting the usual today?” Rich grunts in the affirmative to prevent speaking up and Alex simply laughs in response, the bear somehow hears a wink through the line, “I’ll toss a couple extra egg rolls in there for ya big guy! We’ll have a family meal up for y’all soon! See ya in a jiffy sir!” For the moment Rich ignores being referred to as sir to instead focus on something even stranger. His beard and brows grow thicker as reflexively makes the gay bear face in thought- Adams isn’t his last name?

The massive man stands frozen in thought for some time as he tries to unpack that, unaware that he has begun to fidget with a new silicon ring hugging his left hand ring finger. When Alex arrives with the food he unconsciously returns to his apparent usual self as if he had met the young man hundreds of times. Receiving an impressive bounty of food, Rich sees the young man off with a pat on the shoulder and a cash tip that the once-gamer can’t quite recall having in his wallet before now. In fact, when did he even get a leather wallet- no matter. 

His mouth waters as he may as well float over to the pile of take-out containers that cover his kitchen counter. Family meal huh, is this really what he orders for himself? I mean it’s not like he has other mouths to feed. His head twitches as behind him photos on the wall show three faces and a door appears in his den to a bedroom that has never and always been there. Pushing down the buzzing headache, his still rumbling stomach takes precedence as he begins tearing into food meant for three.

The meal is evaporated with a haste that is inhuman, compelled to fuel the final aspects of a transformation he is unaware of, Rich simply eats until something within him says he is finished. The elastic waistline of his pants strains as his new gut will evermore push out from his hips, just like he likes it. Just like his- partner likes it. His hairline begins to recede and grey hairs speckle his beard as his new lived reality begins to take hold. Just like his husband likes it. He smiles kindly as warmth fills him and dense curls begin their crusade over his shoulders and up his wide back.

His husband, Ben Adams. Rich feels a hole that has existed longer than Rick had been alive fill itself. Whatever palty dregs of a man who delighted in being needlessly mean, frivolously cruel, pointlessly hateful in and out of game totally evaporate. From his mind, from his sense of self, from reality. Burping as he finishes a chinese meal meant for three the new bear sits on a cozy couch and pats his stomach, groaning as far too much food struggles to digest. In the meantime the cracks left from Rick begin to fill in as he becomes kindly Rich Adams. Not a gamer, not a horny chauvinistic asshole, but a husband, a father, who has matured to the utmost.

Retroactively, Nicky’s unintentional spell is so effective that it was never even cast. Rich met Ben so long ago and fell in love that he never even had the desire to play league, nor the toxicity to troll in any game. Instead the pair hit it off at university and married soon after. Once settling they adopted and have lived lives happier than either man could have expected for themselves. Every so often some beyond repressed alien instinct of his old self cries out and tries to take hold of the man. To compel him to spew vitriol with less strength or coherence than an intrusive thought. Rich treats them with the respect they deserve, laughing them off and redoubling his efforts to a brighter world.

After resting for digestion for some time, sleep once more finds the bear and he conks out on the couch, snoring loud enough to be heard in the hall of their apartment complex. When Ben returns from work he promptly chastises his partner for gorging himself and sleeping away his day off. He then forces the bloated man to get up and the pair head off together into the cool autumn day to pick their not-so-little one up from high school. There’s a chill in the air so Ben sidles up far closer to the bear to get some mileage out of the man’s usually oppressive body heat. All in all Rich Adams can think of no better life than the one he shall now enjoy evermore.

Thanks to all who had suggestions for the next chapter, here are a few of them alongside a couple new ideas of my own! If you've got anything for the next poll feel free to comment or DM :)

Poll Results:

Sorry For The Backwash 34.1%

Back at the gym Simon finds himself quite the personal trainer due to his jockification being contagious (Combined both jock Tfs from previous poll)

BC PD 14.6%

Harassed while out and about Nicky turns a authority obsessed officer into just the primal masculine ideal he’s so obsessed with (Devolution)

Burn Out 15%

Self-important business man forced into a sabbatical to chill out after stepping all over Nicky  (Stoner/general dirtbag TF)

Acculturation 23.6%

Nerdy academic yearns to be closer to anthropological subjects (cultural/racial TF) - might not make the cut for this poll TBD

Sloppy Thirds 12.7%

Nicky and Simon pitched on bringing a third into the relationship whom Nicky accidentally molds to be the perfect brutish third (Dom TF?)