#it's not fair to expect it of anyone I know that

[occamstfs]

Talismen: Beginnings

Nicky emerges with an arcane artifact after a bewildering trip through an impossible shop. In wishing his boyfriend was more confident in himself Nicky performs irrevocable and accidental magic upon the world, building his new form and dulling his mind.

And I'm back! Here's the first story of my planned CYOA series, a little long but I love how it turned out! I'll be posting the poll for Part two on Sunday, the 1st of December, the planned options are at the end of the story and it'll only last a day so if you want to take part be on the lookout! At any rate, hope you enjoy and happy to write for you once more! -Occam

It was barbarian weekend at the renaissance festival. Nicky was dressed as a wizard and his boyfriend, Simon, had long planned to go on theme and dress as a barbarian. Though as the day neared and Simon anxiously stared at his decidedly standard figure in the mirror, he instead opted to just throw on a cloak and call it a day. Arriving at the fair the pair, as expected of the theme, find themselves surrounded by burly men clad in kilts with faux fur draped atop chests beyond impressive.

Gawking at hot men is of course par for the course of this kinda event but Nicky can’t help but read the shame and embarrassment creeping into Simon’s expression as he takes in the festivities. When they eventually step into a tavern for a breather Nicky checks in, “Heyyy babe? Everything good? Seem kinda down-” Simon shakes his head and forces a smile, “Don’t worry about me B, I’m aces!” He tosses a wink out for good measure before pointedly changing the topic, “So what was it you said you’re looking to grab this year?”

Nicky narrows his eyes for half a moment wondering if he should push or challenge his clearly sulking boyfriend before deciding to let the sleeping dog lie for now, “Mmmm, I don’t know actually? Probably just an accessory for the costume? Oh! Or maybe some dice?” Simon’s expression changes into a more genuine smile as he grabs at Nicky’s arm and massages it, “Well here’s an idea. We’re right by the dice shop yeah? Howsabout we split up. I’ll grab us some beers and you go check out the offerings. Meet back here?” 

Wordlessly agreeing, Nicky leans in for a kiss and relaxes at Simon seemingly perking up. Heading off with a nod, Nicky exits the tavern, preventing him from seeing his boyfriend’s facade fade once more as he contemplates getting a drink or two ahead of his partner before his return from the shops. 

Under the impression that Simon has cheered back up, Nick is off to the races. Dice shop just across the way he begins his short trek when suddenly there’s a buzzing in the back of his mind. The sounds of the crowd around him eerily fade as if his ears are waterlogged, he shakes his head from the sudden discomfort and takes a moment to see if anyone else seems to be affected. Before he’s able to inspect his fellow festival-goers he is shocked to see a strange shop he’s never seen before.

Nestled in between a printing press and some soap store Nicky furrows his brow and wonders how he’s possibly missed the shop before now. He’s been coming for years and knows the layout of the festival like the back of his hand. After waiting a few seconds to see if anyone else is entering he takes a cautious step forward and trips as his body tries to take another without his intent. Nicky blushes as he bumps into a brawny barbarian who laughs him off and ruffles his hair, “Watch where yer -urp goin dude huhuh!” Nicky nods an apology and reflexively takes another backwards step towards the apparently new shop. In a sudden need for an expedited retreat from embarrassment, Nicky quickly rushes towards the door and away from the man bumped who eyes him taking a large swig from a tankard. 

He hasn’t the chance to notice that each step towards the shop that should not be there is quicker than the one that came before. In no time at all he tears open the door and is inside the quaint cluttered shop. While his eyes adjust from the bright fall day behind him, he takes in the scene as well as he can. The small space is filled with some bitter herbal scent and the air seems to crackle with something similar to static. Nicky of course attributes the strange prickle on his skin to nerves and continues browsing the curious shop.

There’s no real discernible theme to the shop, really it seems to be more of an antique store than anything else. In any normal situation Nicky would have already dipped back out, but something in the back of his mind keeps pulling him in deeper. Walking past strange dolls and stranger bottled liquids, the almost ticklish sensation continues to assail him with unconscious step forward. His spacial awareness tells him he has wandered further than should be possible but it’s almost as if he has no option to continue forward. Coming up on a curtained doorway Nicky’s hands move as if possessed to part the blinds and his eyes finally lay upon what supernatural, impossible thing must be drawing him inward. 

It would be the perfect accessory for his costume. It would be the perfect accessory to put on and never take off again. It will be perfect. It will be his. He needs it more than anything. His eyes shine with the ruby tinges reflecting off the talisman as he inches towards the pedestal it lies upon. His hand reaches towards the object of his desires and burns as the prickling sensation comes to a head. He grimaces as it turns to an almost boiling heat before his fingers touch it and the impossibly intense sensation instantly disappears. Nicky jumps due to the sudden almost atmospheric change and before recovering he almost has a heart attack as who must be the shopkeep shouts from behind him, “HELLO HELLO YOUNG NICHOLAS!” 

Nicky scrambles to hide behind the pedestal and inspect the mystery man, his vision momentarily tinged scarlet. As the twinges of whatever static sensation filled him moments ago begin to fade totally, he finds himself suddenly able to realize how strange everything about this is. He gulps as he sees a man dressed as a campy wizard adjusting his glasses, “Well it seems you found what you were looking for eh old sport?” Nicky looks down at the still shimmering necklace in his hands, stuttering incoherently as his mind races to understand. 

In the half second his eyes were off the wizardly shopkeep, the man has crept up behind once more. Now throwing an arm around Nicky he helps him to his feet and begins leading away from the curtained room, “Hup hup- Now you must be very careful with your words now young Nicholas. Do tell Simon I said hello hm?” Nicky again looks at the necklace in hand and, hanging to the rational world by a thread, inquires, “P- Pay? Did I pay for this?”  The wizardly man laughs and pats him on the back, “Oh don’t you worry ah ha ha! Hah.” The wizardly man winks, though even doing so there is an after image of a red eye staring into and through Nicky. The younger man opens his mouth to question the clearly mystic magus of the artifact and his intentions though before he gets a chance the wizard shouts.

“Do have fun at the festival my boy!” with that he brusquely pushes Nicky forward and he finds himself outdoors by a printing press and soap shop. Fearful of turning around to see there is no store there Nicky looks down to find himself wearing the talisman. Grabbing at it he finds the same sensation that filled him minutes ago, though muted. Pleasant. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before he is again bumped into, this time by someone whose vision is clearly obscured by a mask, “Sho- Shorry!” Nicky sighs and apologizes, though the physical sensation and awkwardness brings him back to reality. Shaking off anxiety and pushing down whatever it is just happened he heads off to meet his boyfriend at the tavern. 

Returning to find Simon housing his third ale, Nicky quickly downs his own to distract from the strange anxiety that remains persuasive in spite of their reunion. Wishing for distraction, it comes swiftly and in short order the pair are out and about enjoying all the festivities that the faire has to offer, various sloppy meats on a stick, bird shows and jesters, and a firework show to cap it all off. The day soars by in short order and Nicky, wanting to forget about his encounter in that place that wasn't, does just that with shocking, almost supernatural, ease. In fact anything Nicky seems to desire almost falls at his feet. With but an imperceptible red shine in his eyes Nicky finds himself wanting for nothing. The same could not be said for his boyfriend.

After sobering up, his dour jealousy for the superior male form returns and as much as Simon tries to hide it from Nicky, the long day has dulled his ability to disguise anything from his boyfriend. On the long walk back to the car Nicky initially avoids bringing it up, but after an eventful day of getting just about everything he desires, he can’t help but try and get to the root of Simon’s sour attitude. “Can you just tell me what’s up babe?” Groaning as he unlocks the car door the weary man answers, “It’s nothing Nick. I’m just- UGH! I wish I wasn’t so self-concious or had actually gone to the gym or-” turning to see Nicky’s puppy dog eyes for not realzing his discomfort Simon groans and apologies, “Don’t worry it’s fine, I um, I had fun!”

Mind flashing back to the barbarian costume that Simon ultimately decided not to wear, love for his boyfriend overwhelms him and he reaches out to hold his lover’s free hand. Hidden underneath his own cloak, Nicky’s talisman flashes red as the sticky staticky sensation returns stronger than it had been even in the shop. He doesn’t whisper or even coherently think the words as he immediately drifts off to sleep in the passenger seat, but the intention is more than enough for the die to be cast. I wish Nicky had more confidence. I wish he was less self-conscious. I wish he was proud of his body. 

Subconscious wish made Nicky’s ruby red eyes remain closed as he falls into an incredibly deep sleep, leaving Simon alone with his thoughts. He squirms slightly behind the wheel as he suddenly feels warm. Mind too muddled to wallow he feels every inch of his body suddenly buzzing with energy, as if an espresso was being dripped into his veins. Looking at his sleeping boyfriend his thoughts shift immediately from self-criticism and body dysmorphia to a lustful, almost primal hunger for his mate. Nicky’s hand still burning hot on his own despite the blaring aircon, he fights the urge to bring the sleeping man’s hand to his cock as it begins to stir. 

Before they’ve even left the parking lot Simon is overwhelmed with a lust for his partner stronger than anything he has felt in some time. Hitting the open road he chews his lip to distract from his cock doing its best to pop the seam in his pants, constantly he’s choking down horny grunts and groans to prevent the sleeping Nicky from waking up. Arriving at their shared home, he struggles to gracefully exit the car with his rod standing firmer than he assumed it could. Eventually making it out, he goes to pick up his still sleepy passenger. 

With a great deal of effort, Simon successfully stills his hips and quiets his lusts to pick up his sleeping suitor. Baring the urges of his body he realizes that the task is far easier than it should be, Nicky’s not heavy but- Any further inquisition is stilled as he reflexively takes a deep breath of his sleeping lover and is promptly overwhelmed. Nicky’s floral shampoo and deodorant mix with b.o. from an unseasonably warm day in the sun and Simon doesn’t have the strength to quiet the grunt that erupts from him as his cock throbs and prods Nicky in the back. 

Eyes blearily open as the sleeping wizard stirs and stretches in the arms of his lover. “Wha? Si?” The self-conscious Simon, embarrassed at waking up his boyfriend quickly puts him down. He blushes as Nicky steadies himself on his arms, still yawning he chastises his boyfriend for letting him fall asleep, “You didn’t *ahwn* didn haf to do tha babe, *awh*” Rubbing his ruby-tinged eyes he can’t quite make out the finer details of his boyfriend, but he would swear he’s looking further up than he usually does to make eye contact. Simon waves him off, “It’s fine, I’m not even tired really.” 

Leaning down to give him a hug, Simon angles his head into Nicky’s nape he takes another deep breath, this time not even trying to mute the groan that spills forth, “MMmhm, y’know now that you’re up the night’s still young…” Nicky tilts his head before understanding as Simon’s cock throbs once more into his abdomen, shaking off the sleep Nicky’s own package begins to stir as he leads his partner into their home, “Well now that you mention it~”

Nicky starts disrobing when Simon grabs his hand, some small amount of discomfort hiding in his expression as he asks, “Would you mind if I, um, topped? This time?” Nicky tilts his head before nodding cheerily, “feeling frisky huh?” Nicky performatively poses before seemingly doing some mental math and continuing, “it’s been a minute haha! Let me just hop in the shower real quick and then we’ll have some fun!”

Already feeling like he’s overstepping Simon doesn’t mention his desire for Nicky to not shower. Something feral need within him forces forward an urge to tackle and fuck then and there but he pushes such thoughts down and waits as patiently as he can. Preparing to bottom on such a short notice, Nicky quickly strips and his eyes land upon the talisman hanging from his neck once more. Pursing his lips he goes to take the necklace off, though as his fingers clasp the chain he shivers as it sends a sensitive pang searing through him. Why would he take it off. Feeling immediately more alert and needy, Nicky swiftly hops in the shower to prepare for some fun.

Outside the bathroom his boyfriend taps his foot anxiously, sending a deep, impatient echo through the room. Irritated at the sound he stands and quickly disrobes himself. After getting the cloak off, the room is filled with slight groans of effort as he struggles to get off his shirt. It’s almost stuck to his skin? Probably from sweat he thinks but each time he wrenches it up it only frees about an inch more room. His irritation prevents him from noticing how it decidedly hugs new weight on his chest or cuts into apparently thicker biceps.

The sound of the shirt straining fills the room and he grinds his teeth as the prospect of being stuck in the top any longer is unbearable. His hands stretch longer and strain shifts to tearing as he rips the tunic off with a grunt. Exposed to the open air is a sweaty body far more impressive than when the man struggled to get ready that morning. Looking at the torn shirt in his hand he blushes as his eyes trail up his forearms and stare at a bicep that’s begging to be flexed. 

Stepping out wearing only a towel and his talisman, Nicky smiles as he stares at Simon appreciating his arms, “Couldn’t have waited for me to put on the show huh?” Simon turns to see his boyfriend drop the towel and he loses control. Any sign of intelligence in his eyes vacates as he manhandles the man onto the bed. For his part Nicky assumes this to be roleplay, almost giggling from delight as the typically meek man ragdolls him onto the bed. Drool leaks from Simon's maw as he grunts and groans, struggling to free the throbbing package still trapped in his shorts.

Being straddled, Nick takes the chance to carefully observe his boyfriend’s body, appreciating the view that he seldom gets. For the life of him he doesn’t understand why Si got so worked up, with arms like that and a chest- or? When did he start working out actually? Nicky frees a hand to touch the man’s powerful torso and Simon shivers, reflexively rutting into him as his cock growing even harder sends the sound of fabric straining through the room. He’s decidedly firmer, heavier. Nicky sees hair begin to grow on the man’s chest and his mind for half a second hears the echoing laughter of a man he wished to forget. Though there’s no time to think as Simon goes for the tried and true method of just ripping his clothes off.

Eyes wide with wonder, Nicky watches as biceps bulge larger with each tug, shoulder span expanding as his hands yank and tear. His mouth falls open as he sees a cock clearly larger than the one that he knows Simon to have. Gulping as he realizes he’s agreed to take this dick that stretches up to his sternum, Nicky blushes and Simon smirks as he leans down to snarl or whisper something in his lover’s ear. 

Nicky feels pre dripping onto his chest as the larger man leans down, his arms land to either side of the man exposing pits dripping with sweat and just before he speaks or growls, the talisman flashes red. Eyes focused on each other neither man sees some shard of light go from the charm into Simon. His eyes roll back and close before he falls down onto Nicky. Immediately concerned for his love, Nicky struggles to shift the man off him and call for help before he hears Simon begin to snore. His body feels like a furnace atop Nicky’s, a cock still erect continues to throb into his stomach and gush pre in between the two of them. He feels patches of hairs thicker than Simon typically carries scratching him. Nicky tries to force the sleeping oaf off him before quickly tuckering himself out.

It was a long day after all. Nicky yawns as he sees the back of the man lying atop him. It’s not right, too wide, too heavy. His ass is not that large his- ughh. With another shove to wake or move Simon, Nicky feels weariness truly overtake him and his scarlet eyes flutter. The sleeping man moves his arms to hug Nicky tight and the seemingly smaller man has no recourse but to give way, his sides tickled by patches of pit hair dripping with sweat. Nick’s head tips forward a few times as he struggles to stay awake though the sound of his lover’s new snores lull him to sleep.

In the morning Nicky wakes to find himself free from Simon’s grasp, though the man’s sweat stains leave a clear outline around him on the bed and his torso remains sticky from pre. His head aches with a hangover though after the faintest wish that it end, so it does. Groaning he gets to his feet and heads off to shower once more, en route he finds a note from Si: “heyyy babe woke up w so much energy!!! gonna go for a run or to the gym idk :) c u soon thooooo<3”  Nicky  rubs sleep from his eyes and reads the short note a few times over, “hmmm. Weird.” Shrugging he goes about his day as usual, cleaning up, brewing coffee, doing the crossword. Something in the back of his mind says he usually does this with Simon, but that can’t be right? He’d never want to do that. His eye twitches as unbeknownst to him, with each step further away his love has truly begun to change from his unintentional intentions into a man who will never feel shame again.

Simon doesn’t know why he feels so compelled to get up and at ‘em. For years he has given himself ultimatums, scheduled gym sessions, dieted and done his best, but there has not been a moment in his life where he has felt more drive, more purpose than his flight from their shared bed. It’s like he’s a new man with nothing on his mind but getting some meat on his bones. He barely had the wherewithal to leave a note for his lover, as is clear by the lack of eloquence.

Nor is that the only aspect askew from Simon’s typical self. As his anxiety at being perceived shirtless may suggest, the man is always conscious of how he looks. Rarely does a day go by without Simon giving himself a painstaking once over in front of the mirror, be it applying makeup or designing an outfit. To simply throw on a tshirt and leave without even rinsing his face is anathema, and yet after doing just that and throwing on his boyfriend’s sneakers, finding his own far too tight, he’s out the door well before the sun begins to rise. 

His feet fall heavy on the sidewalk as his shabby outfit soon enough finds itself straining. Grimacing at the constriction it becomes clear that these clothes are far too tight and getting tighter with each step it seems. Nevertheless he presses onward until there is stinging pain from his feet struggling against their binds. While he’s been content to ignore or misinterpret the sounds of his own tshirt beginning to fray, as well as the pain that such constriction entails, he doesn’t want to ruin Nicky’s shoes. And so scrambling for somewhere to sit down he hops on a bench and begins to struggle with the laces.

Simon’s toes struggle against frontal fabric while the shoes’ tongues press into laces that simply must be cutting into the tops of his feet. Simon’s mind is clearly slowing down as he takes a few seconds too long to simply watch his feet expand beyond containment before, with a gasp, pain jogs him into action. At first he goes to untie them before he’s unable to recall precisely how to do that. Immediately switching to the task already begun by his growing feet he reaches in and simply tears each shoe in two.

His arms bulge with the effort involved in splitting them in twain, biceps that never were begin to appear and push his short sleeves to their limit as new muscle presses onto his chest. Looking down at his hands, decidedly more masc, the man can do nothing but observe his new form as it begins to extol an untenable price on his mind. With each new manly aspect so too will the cogs of his mind continue to slow.

Looking at his boyfriend's shredded shoes, Simon is immediately guilty though he releases a contented sigh as his feet flex free from their confines. His newly one track mind is then thrown off-course and his eyes narrow at the feet bare on cold concrete. They were not simply chafing or something reasonable of the sort, they are too big. They’re larger than his shoes and seem to still be growing larger. And wait- Why did he leave the house without wearing socks!? 

Simon shakes his head to try and focus on one question at a time, though before peace comes there is a searing pain from his legs as his changes continue upward. Calves burst from his bony legs while athletic shorts are clearly strained by thighs that any man would kill for. Thick, perhaps barbarous, curls begin to issue forth from any pore exposed as he clutches with his newly thicker hands into muscle still hardening, still pumping larger. 

Grunting loudly, Simon falls off the bench as ever spreading changes spread towards his glutes. His pert ass hardens and grows to a size that would attract attention no matter what he wears to try and hide it under. His whole lower body cramps with growth as his legs extend, wider feet scratching into dirt as calves and thighs lengthen while his pulse continues to race from the shock of this impossible transformation. Struggling with the new weight of self, his rougher hands pressed into the ground his duller mind is unable to reconcile what is happening to him with reality. The sound of blood rushing through his ears mutes the world around him and at the slightest lapse he simply forgets.

“Why am I on my hands?” Through bleary eyes he stares at hands too wide, fingers longer and thicker. He trails upward and almost scoffs as he sees forearms and biceps not nearly as defined as they should be, after another moment mouth agog he guffaws as he presumes to have put one and one together, “Oh ahuhuh- I must be workin’ out here?” Licking his lips as he is filled with an otherworldly surge of energy, Simon gets started following one of the most common impulses that is to evermore make itself at home in his mind. He starts doing some push ups.

Immediately do his biceps burn with effort as they put on weight at an impossible rate. Simon grunts with the effort of taking the wheel and commanding his body to be more powerful. His heart pounds in his chest as, just like every piece of fabric before, his shirt quickly gives way outright to the progress of growth. To the strengthening of self. With each dip towards the earth his pecs come closer to touching the cold soil before bouncing as his powerful arms rocket him back upwards with precision. 

Simon continues exercising until his arms burn as numb as his new, slower mind. Not only does muscle continue to pack on with every punch upwards, but his impressive form is just as quickly patterned with burgeoning body hair. Sweat drips down onto a chest rapidly peppered with curls and steams off a back which holds hair slowly rising from his lightly furred ass. Sweaty steam trails upwards from widening shoulders and bulky traps into the cold autumn air as heavy breath mists from behind gnashing teeth. Nowhere does the hair grow thicker than under his powerful arms as a jungle of hair grows outward from his pits and sends distinct trails of sweat down his trunk like biceps and across his hulking pecs.

Body hair and brawn are not the only decidedly improved aspects of the man either. Just as he continues to pack on muscle with each thrust upwards, so too is his crotch pulled closer to the ground with every descent. His briefs struggle against a package rapidly growing beyond any tenable containment. Balls bulge larger to supply his impressive form with the hormones required for the growth he demands of it, pubes cascading upward and outward as they strive to assert that Simon’s masculinity shall never be in question. 

So too does his cock throb and push against the confines of his underwear enough to be plainly visible. Not only from growing erect as his heart races, but from expanding to be the most impressive rod either he or his lover have ever seen. With the slightest glance down to see his new cock, he smirks and shivers as he imagines topping Nicky with that beast. 

This of course sends such a powerful surge of lust through him that the bulging cock immediately bursts free from the briefs outright, leaving him clad in nothing. His cock, now free, drips pre onto the earth as he continues working out a few moments longer in the buff, plain for anyone to see were the streets not thankfully empty. Guffawing to himself after thrusting his new cock into the ground a few times in the process of pushing up, Simon’s new bovine mind eventually realizes he’s fully nude and public and quickly stumbles to his feet. “Oh shit huhuh-” He stands and scratches the back of his head and tries to plan some form of escape, in the process he flexes his bicep and can’t help but smirk as he sees the veins bulging along its impressive length.

Feeling his still turgid cock bounce with every slight movement, he continues laughing before looking down to see shredded clothes scattered at his colossal feet. Seeing the pile of clothes outgrown, Simon does everything short of drooling as he for the first time takes in his new form. Massive hands trail across padded muscle as the urgency of covering his dick fades from his mind. 

When his sweaty pecs begin to glimmer from the rising sun he is immediately thrown back into awareness of his active criminal behavior. Checking the coast is clear once more, he pauses for a moment wondering what the big deal is about public nudity before being chastised by some internal Nicky. Simon turns back to the bench and laughs dumbly as he sees his gym bag lying discarded.

Pouncing like an animal, he quickly tears into and retrieves shorts that will surely leave nothing to the imagination. Nevertheless he throws them on and grimaces as they tightly hug his ass and package. Seeing shirts thrown to the side he scratches his face and his face quivers as he feels stubble grace it for the first time. He purses his lips just to feel a moustache scratch his nose and absolutely disregards the idea that he needs a shirt. Why would he cover up anything beyond what is necessary. Surely the world would be more than grateful at the chance to see his form he asserts, bouncing his pecs and chuckling as he does so.

Finding himself with nothing to do besides appreciate how built he truly is now, Simon uses his phone as a mirror to inspect every angle and uses whatever sparing space in his mind to keep track of the best ones. The massive man shivers as the sweaty steam rising from him briefly glimmers red, making it clear that Nicky’s will has been enacted on his lover and announcing the fulfillment of his will. Nevermore will he be self-conscious, quite the opposite in fact. As morning commuters begin their grind many offer a passing glance to the by all accounts himbo drooling at his own reflection, and never does one escape without receiving a wink or flex from the man.

When a pair of jocks eye him with jealousy on the way to class he holds back laughter, the idea that not twenty-four hours ago he was just like them, smaller even, is inconceivable to the new man. Though to be fair, much now lies beyond the realm of conceivability for the man. He thinks about offering some tips to the pair though refrains as something needles him far, far in the back of his simple mind. There was something he was supposed to do yeah?

Furrowing his brow in as deep a concentration as he can muster, Simon’s eyes close and his hands clench at his head as he tries to think. Laundry? Huhuh as if- Meal prep? Then why would he be out here? Simon starts groaning in frustration and tapping his larger, still bare, foot on the sidewalk. Ephemeral ideas he might have latched onto in a life before this one drift past before he gives up and sits down, crossing his arms. The bench creaks under his new weight as he almost petulantly reclines, head back and eyes blank.

Suddenly he jolts up and almost hits himself for not doing the obvious straight away. Obviously Nicky’ll know what to do! His clumsy hands struggle to get his phone from the pocket of his shorts and he smiles at the lock screen, a picture of Nicky being smothered by his massive arms. Simon then squints and bites his tongue in concentration as now even this requires some degree of effort. Quickly enough he dials up his beau and almost vibrates from the excitement of hearing his voice. 

Back at home Nicky is playing a game though squeezes the phone in his headset as he sees Simon calling, “Hey baby? What’s up, early start today huh?” Would that he had a tail to wag, Simon laughs and answers, “ha uhhh, yeah somethin’ like that- uhhhhh. Yo did you uh, know what I was plannin’ on doing this morning?” Nicky tilts his head, for a moment he swears something is off with his boyfriend’s voice. Then his eyes go blank and his vision flickers red before, no it’s always been like that? Nicky swears something about his long hours at the gym over the years made him drop a few octaves but that’s neither here nor there. 

Nicky shakes off this small stupor, “Yeah Si, you said you were going to the gym no?” an eye twitches, “y’know, like usual?” Excitement once more sets fire in Simon’s veins as he nods and laughs at himself for forgetting such a simple routine, “Ahhh what would I do without you babe huhuh!” He kisses his cellphone and winks at a woman walking her dog who was giving him a side-eye. “Well you have fun dude! Gonna go get a MASSIVE pump in!” Nicky wryly grins and rolls his eyes, “you too, you too b, see you later-” With that he gets back to the game, intentionally ignoring the crimson buzzing at the back of his mind as both men set off to tackle the obstacles of the day, totally unaware of the lives they are to unintentionally change evermore. 

Potentialities: (Poll on Sunday the First at 12 AM CST)

Gonna keep this one limited as a test run! If you have any suggestions or ideas for the next poll please shout! Happy to get real wacky with it if there’s an interest!

Nicky Routes:

Grow up you asshole: Getting flamed in game Nicky’s clapback  teaches a gamer to be a real man (Bear/Dilf TF) 

Man you always play him: Well intentioned words bring his gamer friend far closer in mind, body, and spirit to his favorite character- Fictional character TF (Would prompt another poll for sure, haven’t done one of these before but if there’s a demand we’ll see!)

Simon Routes: (More standard faire jock/himbo tfs)

Sorry for the backwash bro: Accidentally sharing a drink causes his himbofication to spread 

Let’s get pumped: Simon finds work as a personal trainer and is far more effective than he has any right to be 

[theinfamousmaybelle]

I know, right? Like, these motherfuckers think it's cool to just 'hate' on a character. Do they realize the character is meant to be written that way? Like, guess what: the world doesn't revolve around you (the haters). Being rude too someone is not cool. It does not make you seem cool. Hating on somebody is not fucking cool, it is shitty and pathetic. It does not make you seem like the coolest person ever, it makes you sound like an asshole and a dickbag.

Harassing someone is not cool, either. If you don't have anything nice too say, don't say anything at all. That's a rule I go by. Kat poured her heart and soul into her writing and people shitted all over the female characters. What about the males?

'Oh, Ruin killing billions upon trillions of innocent people is okay because he 'stopped something bigger' from happening'? Oh yeah definitely (sarcasm) 💀. 'Oh, Bloodmoon hurting Earth is okay because he was made too kill'. Yeah, sure it is, buddy 🙄 like, are we forgetting what Moon did? He abused Sun. But nooo, everyone glazes past that. I love Moon, but goddamn, you guys are oblivious!

Oh, and don't get me STARTED on the Earth and Pollux hate. Earth being a tool and walked all over is okay because she's a 'woman'? But the moment she is even a little selfish, people shit all over her character because they are pathetic little assholes who don't care about people. At least people who apologize for hating have some HUMANITY. People are shitting on Pollux as well, because she was acting 'childish' and being a 'hypocrite'. Whilst the hypocrite thing is true, she doesn't understand basic emotions, you can't expect her too know. Women get so hated on...like, stop being sexist!

If you childish ass fuckers think that you can get away with this, you are so fucking wrong. All you children who are immature? Get mature. Or leave this community. GET A LIFE. TOUCH SOME GRASS. DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN SHIT ON CHARACTERS. If you wake up every morning and think 'wow, time too hate on anyone who doesn't share my opinion' then you can go unfollow me. 'A little sensitive too getting blocked, so maybe don't do that. But please, if you're a hater, unfollow me.

It is genuinely not fair. Kat is living in a hell you haters created. She has a right too quit. Nobody can blame her. If I see any of you miserable fucks doing that, I will personally call you out and then block you. Nobody deserves too go through that shit. You haters are the reason she quit. You are responsible for this.

Thank you for reading.

Genuinely

If you think it’s funny or cute to harass Queenkatluv or mock her for stepping away from a fandom that has gone out of its way to make her feel unwelcome

Block me. I don’t want to see you. Unfollow me immediately. You are not welcome in my community

Kat is a wonderful writer, and voice actor, and extremely sweet and kind and the VAs stuck their necks out for me when I was being harassed for months on end. None of the VAs deserve the shit this fandom puts them through, and it’s this fandom’s fault that she is leaving. She already left the discord, she abandoned her askbox. She is now being harassed in her personal DMs on Twitter.

This is bullshit.

You do not belong in this community if you think this is acceptable behavior.

[wonlvures]

FALLING FOR YOU ୨୧ - SIM JAEYUN

PAIRING: idol!Jake x Idol!reader

SYNOPSIS: you and Jake secretly have a thing for each other when you guys are idols and have a secret relationship

GENRE: fluff, romance

AUTHORS NOTE: this was highly requested by a generous user!

Jake had always known that being an idol would come with its fair share of challenges—late nights, early mornings, grueling schedules, and fans who loved him unconditionally. But there was one thing he hadn’t expected when he first entered this world: to meet someone who didn’t seem to care about any of that.

It happened on the set of a variety show. Jake, along with his group, had been invited to participate in a cooking challenge against another group of idols, and Y/N was the one chosen to co-host and judge. She had been in the industry for a while, but not in the same group as Jake. He had seen her on TV, admired her work, but he never imagined their paths would cross in such a casual way.

The cameras rolled, and the challenge began. Jake, known for being a bit of a perfectionist, was focused on the task at hand, but there was something about the way Y/N smiled and teased the contestants that caught his attention. She was sharp, quick-witted, and radiated a warm, approachable energy that made everyone around her relax. Jake noticed, too, that she didn’t treat him like a star. While others hesitated or were overly polite, she was relaxed with him—like they were just two people doing their jobs.

During the break between filming, they ended up sitting next to each other. Y/N turned to him with a grin.

“You know, I’m actually kind of impressed by your cooking skills. I thought idols couldn’t cook.”

Jake laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I may not be a chef, but I can follow a recipe. Plus, I’ve been living on takeout too long. I had to learn something.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I totally get it. If I didn’t learn how to cook, I’d be living on ramen forever.”

As the conversation flowed easily, Jake realized just how down-to-earth she was. She didn’t talk about her fame or her achievements. Instead, she asked about his hobbies, his favorite food, and even complained about the exhaustion of being in the industry. It was refreshing. She wasn’t fawning over him, or putting him on a pedestal—she just treated him like a regular person, which, for Jake, felt rare.

When filming wrapped up, they exchanged numbers to keep in touch for future shows. Jake didn’t think much of it at the time—he figured it was just part of the job. But over the next few weeks, he found himself looking forward to her messages.

Their texts started off small—simple messages about scheduling, a funny meme here and there, or asking each other for advice about their upcoming performances. But something shifted as the days went on. They began to open up more. Y/N shared her worries about the pressures of being an idol—how fans’ expectations sometimes felt suffocating. Jake, in turn, confessed his own struggles with the constant demand to be perfect, to always smile, to always give his best even when he was running on empty.

It was during one of these late-night conversations that Jake found himself looking at his phone, fingers hovering over the keyboard, uncertain of what to say. He had never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, but there was something about Y/N that made him want to.

He typed, then deleted, then typed again.

Jake: "I know we’ve only known each other a little while, but... I feel like I can actually be myself around you. And I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately."

Y/N’s response came just a few moments later.

Y/N: "Jake, I feel the same way. I’ve never really had a chance to connect with anyone like this in the industry. It’s... kind of nice."

Jake felt a weight lift off his chest. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he was talking to someone who wasn’t interested in his status as an idol but in him—the person behind the image.

It wasn’t long before they started meeting up in person. Sometimes it was after a late-night show or a photoshoot, where they’d steal a few quiet moments for themselves. They didn’t have to go to fancy restaurants or glamorous locations. It was the small things that mattered—grabbing bubble tea together, walking around the park after a long day, or just sitting in a cafe and talking about everything and nothing at all.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting day of filming, Jake texted her again.

Jake: "Hey, I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to collapse. Want to meet up for a quick bite? Somewhere quiet?"

Y/N read the message and smiled, already feeling the same fatigue, but also the familiar pull of wanting to see him again. There was something comforting about being with Jake—something that allowed her to forget about the bright lights and the pressure for just a little while.

Y/N: "Sounds perfect. Meet you at the usual place?"

They met at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall that had become their spot. It was the kind of place where no one cared who they were or what they did for a living. No flashing cameras, no eager fans. Just food, laughter, and quiet moments together.

As they sat down, Jake looked at her across the table, watching the way she pushed her hair behind her ear, a habit she had when she was nervous or thinking.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Lately, I’ve realized I look forward to our conversations more than anything. It’s... it’s strange, but it feels different with you. Like I can finally relax.”

Y/N felt her heart flutter, her chest tightening with an unfamiliar warmth. She had thought about Jake a lot too—about how easy it was to talk to him, how much she enjoyed his presence, and how it felt like they were falling into something that was beyond just friendship.

“Jake,” she started, her voice a little more nervous than she intended, “I feel the same way. You’re... different from everyone else I’ve met. I feel like I can just be myself.”

There was a long pause, and Jake’s gaze softened. Then, almost as if he had been holding his breath, he leaned in slightly.

“Y/N, I like you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and I—"

Before he could finish, Y/N reached across the table, placing her hand on his.

“I like you too,” she said, her smile genuine and a little shy. “I’ve been trying to figure out when the right moment would be to say it, but I guess... now’s as good a time as any.”

Jake laughed softly, the tension in his body releasing. He didn’t need to say anything more—he could see it in her eyes. They had both been tiptoeing around something that had always been there, and now, it felt like they had finally crossed that invisible line.

From that night forward, their relationship deepened. They still had their moments of uncertainty—moments when the pressure of being public figures weighed heavily on them. But through it all, they kept finding ways to support each other, even when the world seemed too loud or too demanding.

They continued to meet in secret, sharing quiet moments in the midst of their busy lives. Sometimes they would slip away for a quick coffee, other times they would sit in the park at night, talking about their hopes for the future, about what they wanted for themselves and each other.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice, Y/N found herself waiting for Jake outside the practice room. When he stepped out, exhausted but smiling, she couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you always this tired?” she teased.

Jake grinned, his eyes bright despite the exhaustion. “Pretty much. But it’s worth it when I get to see you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling her heart flutter once again. It was in moments like these that she realized how much they had changed each other—not as idols, but as people. Jake wasn’t just the idol she had admired from afar; he was someone she could trust, someone who understood the difficulties of their world and who was willing to take the time to show her that there was more to life than just the spotlight.

And as for Jake, he had never imagined that something so simple, so pure, could grow out of the chaos of their shared world. But with Y/N by his side, he began to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for love to bloom amid the flashing cameras and the noise.

Their love wasn’t something they shouted from rooftops or shared on social media—it was something they kept close, something between the two of them. But in their hearts, it was more than enough.

Together, they learned that sometimes the most unexpected connections are the ones that last the longest.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello, hello!!!I saw your post here with the answer to the question (If the age restriction was done away with, do you think Harry's name would have been picked for the tournament at 14?). And your thoughts on Cedric and Hufflepuff, and I'd like to know your opinion. I've always disliked the Hufflepuffs and Diggory himself because of their behavior when Harry was chosen champion. Cedric is always called a good guy, but he did nothing when his friends wore badges against Harry and laughed with them about it. Your thoughts?

I'm so glad I found your blog! You are miracle!

Hello again 👋

(Referencing this post)

Well, I don't dislike all the Hufflepuffs in the books (I like Susan Bones a lot because of the 2 lines she has in the whole series), but I do find it interesting that a lot of the students we see in Hufflepuff when Harry's at school, don't really exemplify Hufflepuff traits.

The Potter Stinks badges I'm kinda fine with. Like, I can understand it. See, Hufflepuff usually doesn't get the spotlight, and then they have Cedric Diggory as the school champion. Of course, they're excited. And then, oh, what's that? Harry Potter from Gryffindor is stealing the Apotlight again as the fourth champion! WTF? This isn't right!

For them, supporting Cedric and renouncing Harry is the just and fair option. Becouse Harry isn't supposed to be a champion, and they're supporting the "true champion". It doesn't really matter Harry didn't want to be a champion, it's unfair he was chosen as one at all.

So, I get it. I get the support for Cedric and resentment of Harry. It's other smaller things that make the image of the house fall apart a little for me.

It's Ernie McMillan making grandiose declarations not becouse it's the right thing to do, but for appearance's sake:

“Well said!” barked Ernie Macmillan, whom Harry had been expecting to speak long before this. “Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!” He looked around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry, “Surely not!” When nobody spoke, he went on, [...] “Er . . .” said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George was trying to pass him. “Well . . . I’m sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is.” But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him. “I — well, we are prefects,” Ernie burst out. “And if this list was found . . . well, I mean to say . . . you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out . . .” “You just said this group was the most important thing you’d do this year,” Harry reminded him

(OotP, Ch16)

Or his general concern with appearance over substance, really:

Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and Harry was sure he was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect’s badge gleaming on his chest.

(OotP, Ch11)

It's Justin and the others snap judgment of Harry in CoS without actually being fair and hearing him out:

the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry. Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn’t attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn’t have explained. He looked up at Justin, grinning, expecting to see Justin looking relieved, or puzzled, or even grateful — but certainly not angry and scared. “What do you think you’re playing at?” he shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

(CoS, Ch11)

and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.

(CoS, Ch9)

It's Amos Diggory having no idea what "fair" is even if it punched him in the face and being the most insufferable character that isn't an outright villain:

“Ced’s talked about you, of course,” said Amos Diggory. “Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . You beat Harry Potter!” [...] “Harry fell off his broom, Dad,” he muttered. “I told you . . . it was an accident. . . .” “Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you?” roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won, I’m sure Harry’d say the same, wouldn’t you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!” “Must be nearly time,” said Mr. Weasley quickly

(GoF, Ch6)

(I hate that man sooo much it's not even funny.)

It's Cedric needing to be nudged to tell Harry about the egg from Moody/Barty as I mentioned in the post you referenced.

Zacharias Smith being a bit of a prat is fine, it's not like he's ever pretending to be anything else, so at least he's honest. But the point is that a lot of the Hufflepuffs we meet aren't exactly just and fair people like their house would suggest.

And I love it.

I mean, we talk about how Gryffindors aren't all brave, like Remus and Pettigrew who are both cowardly lions who'd rather run away in many situations. Or how Slytherins aren't all bad, that "the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters" and that Slytherin is more than just power-hungry evil people.

Showing Hufflepuffs who aren't noble, just, and hardworking is great. In fact, it's essential worldbuilding. It's another nail in the coffin of houses not being the be-all and end-all of who a person is. Becouse Hagrid is wrong in what he tells Harry:

“Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin,” said Hagrid darkly. “There’s not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one.”

(PS, Ch5)

Some Hufflepuffs are assholes, some Slytherins are nice, some Gryffindors are cowards and some Ravenclaws aren't smart. Houses aren't just about what you are, but what you value, what you want to be. I always saw someone's house as a mix of their traits, yes, but also their priorities, approach to problem-solving, or what they value most about themselves.

Remus and Peter may be cowards, but both of them value bravery greatly. They both looked up to James for his courage. There could be a Ravenclaw who isn't the sharpest, but they like to learn and solve riddles, even when they aren't any good at it. Slytherins like Tom Riddle, who value bravery and courage and despise cowardice like a Gryffindor, but they're so set on being great, of leaving a legacy, that the hat places them in Slytherin. Hufflepuffs like Ernie, who want to be noble and looked up to as a beacon of justice, but it doesn't come naturally to them so they act the part ("fake it till you make it"). I love this idea of Hogwarts houses that all these Hufflepuffs exemplify. Houses aren't always what you are, and sorting is more complicated than that.

So Cedric isn't the peach perfect noble and just Hufflepuff and it's great. Becouse people aren't always perfect and just and he's human. I would give him that he is a hell of a lot fairer than some of his housemates. But I don't think Cedric is the poster child of a just Hufflepuff — he isn't, and I prefer him that way. He's nice, don't get me wrong, he's not a bad person, but the idea that he was so perfect just because he died tragically sucks.

[hoosurdaddy]

A kiss is the price to pay.

Dark!eddie munson x f!reader.

Trigger warnings: power imbalance, objectification, non consensual tension, emotional manipulation. I warned you. Your own fault if you continue.

Note: I’m not taking requests. I am just bored and haven’t been on here since forever. Idk. However this was a request I got back in like 2022-2023 or something? So credit to you

The evening at the Hawkins Fall Fair was in full swing, the air buzzing with the usual sights and sounds: the dizzying flashes of carnival lights, the deep rumble of the Ferris wheel turning, and the mingling scent of popcorn and fried dough. You had been stationed at the cheerleader's kissing booth for hours now, tasked with giving out quick pecks to random guys in exchange for five bucks, all in the name of raising money for new uniforms.

It seemed harmless enough at first—just a bit of fun, right? But by now, your face hurt from plastering on a fake smile, and your patience was running thin with every guy who lingered a little too long, or tried to sneak an extra kiss when your back was turned.

You wished you were anywhere else. Anywhere but here, stuck behind this booth, giving out kisses like they were nothing. And then, as if to make things worse, he showed up.

Eddie Munson.

You saw him lurking near the back of the line, leaning against a game booth with that signature cocky grin on his face. The one that made everyone else keep their distance, like he was some sort of rabid animal. The "freak" of Hawkins High. You didn’t have to look at the other guys to know they noticed him too. There were a few snickers, a few murmurs, and a few boys visibly shifting uncomfortably in their spots.

Eddie wasn’t the kind of guy anyone in this crowd would expect to see standing in line for a kiss from the cheerleader. Hell, even you didn’t expect him to do it.

But of course, he did.

He sauntered up to the booth with his hands in his pockets, his wild hair falling over his eyes. The smile on his face was way too confident for someone who was supposed to be the school outcast.

“Five bucks, right?” Eddie said, his voice dripping with something between amusement and challenge. He pulled a crumpled five-dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it onto the table in front of you.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, five bucks for a quick kiss."

Behind you, the line of guys waiting to get their turn shifted, their patience clearly wearing thin. They muttered under their breath, clearly annoyed that Eddie had cut to the front.

"You're really gonna kiss him?" one of them scoffed. "Why don’t you just go make out with the school mascot while you’re at it?”

You could feel their glares burning into your back. It wasn’t like you cared what they thought—you weren’t the one who’d thrown down money to kiss Eddie Munson. But you could tell it irritated them. And that made you uncomfortable.

Eddie leaned over the table, his grin widening as he met your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Too good to kiss me?” His voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it—something deeper beneath the surface.

You tried to shake it off. “If you’re not here for a kiss, Munson, you can just leave. I’m not in the mood for jokes.”

Eddie’s smirk didn’t fade, and he didn’t move away. Instead, he slid into the chair in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I’m definitely here for that kiss, babe,” he said, voice low and almost too intimate. “But I think you’re gonna give me a little more than what you’ve been giving the others.”

You narrowed your eyes, but Eddie’s gaze was already hard on you. "What do you mean, 'more'?" you asked, barely holding back your irritation.

He leaned closer, his breath warm on your cheek. “A kiss for a buck is too easy,” Eddie murmured. “I saved up all my money just for this moment. You’re gonna make it worth my while.” His eyes flickered to the guys behind you, and you could see the flicker of amusement on his face. “Or maybe you’re not into making it worth anything. If that’s the case, I guess I’ll just walk away.”

The sudden idea of letting him leave, of not having to deal with the awkwardness or his incessant teasing, made your heart race. You didn’t want to kiss him, not really. Not Eddie Munson. Not like this. But the idea of making the guys waiting behind you even more uncomfortable? That… didn’t sit well with you either.

Fighting back a sigh, you leaned forward and tried to make it quick—a peck, a kiss that would make him get his money's worth and move on. But as soon as your lips brushed his, Eddie’s hand shot out and caught the back of your neck, holding you there.

You tensed, trying to pull away, but he didn’t let you. The kiss deepened, slow, deliberate, like he was savoring it. His lips were soft, but his grip was firm, his other hand resting on the table as if to steady himself—or keep you in place.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks, but you couldn’t do anything but brace yourself against the table, feeling his tongue slip into your mouth. A part of you wanted to scream and slap him away, but another part—the part you hated—felt a strange pull, a dangerous excitement in the way Eddie kissed you like he was trying to own you. His fingers moved to your jaw, tilting your head, forcing you to take more of him. You could feel the annoyance from the guys in line building behind you, the tension thick in the air, but Eddie didn’t care. He was lost in it, dragging the kiss out, his lips moving with a rawness that made your heart race in a way you hated.

Finally, Eddie pulled back, breathing hard, his grin wide and unapologetic. “There we go,” he said, voice smug. “That’s the kiss I paid for. Definitely worth the five bucks.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you quickly wiped your lips, disgusted with yourself for the way you’d allowed it to happen.

“Get lost, Munson,” you spat, the anger bubbling up now, but Eddie just laughed.

“Nah, I think you like it,” he said, voice dropping low again. “You enjoyed it more than you’ll admit. But it’s okay, sweetheart, I won’t tell anyone.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, Eddie turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, heart still thudding in your chest, hands trembling.

You didn’t know what to feel. Part of you was furious, disgusted by the whole thing. The other part of you—the part you barely recognized—was shaken, hungry for something more than just a kiss. You wanted to yell, to scream at him, but instead, you felt yourself quietly watching him leave, feeling like there was more to come. You didn’t know what Eddie Munson wanted from you, but you knew this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

A few hours later, as the fair started winding down, you began packing up the booth, ready to escape the night and get out of your own head.

But before you could even finish, you felt a cold hand on your wrist, pulling you back. Your heart lurched in your chest as you whipped around to see Eddie standing there again, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Did you think I was done?" he asked, his voice low, almost playful. “Not even close.”

Your pulse quickened, and for a moment, you froze. Something in his eyes had changed—darker, more dangerous.

“Eddie—what do you want now?” you snapped, pulling your wrist out of his grip, but he just stepped closer.

“I told you,” he said, voice barely a whisper, “you’re not getting away that easy. I don’t think you realize just how much you owe me now.” He let out a soft laugh, something unsettling in his eyes. "And trust me, sweetheart, I’ll make sure you pay up."

Your stomach twisted. You were no longer sure if you were angry or afraid. Maybe it was both. But one thing was certain: you hadn’t heard the last of Eddie Munson.

And that terrified you more than anything else.

[velvrei]

under the flickering light

pairing: axel kovacevic x reader

summary: you meet axel at a crowded bar, drawn to his magnetic presence. a quiet moment in the alleyway leads to an unexpected kiss, turning a cold night into something unforgettable.

word count: 1k

…

the bar is alive with noise—voices overlapping, music humming low under the din, glasses clinking in the background.

you’re nursing a drink you don’t even really want, the condensation dampening your fingers. this isn’t your usual scene, but something pulled you here tonight.

you spot him before you know why you’re looking. he’s alone in the corner, one arm stretched along the back of the booth like he owns the place.

his dark hair is a mess, falling just over his brow, and there’s a worn leather jacket slung across his lap. the light above him flickers faintly, casting his sharp features into soft relief. he’s not looking at anyone—until he’s looking at you.

his gaze holds yours like a challenge.

your pulse skips. there’s no smile, no smirk—just a steady, unflinching stare. still, there’s something in the way his head tilts, in the arch of his brow, that dares you to do something. anything.

before you can second-guess yourself, you’re moving. weaving through the crowd, dodging elbows and spilled drinks, you reach his table. up close, his eyes are darker than you expected, and his presence—sharp-edged, magnetic—feels even stronger.

“you lost?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, with a rasp that makes your breath hitch.

“maybe,” you say, and it’s almost true.

the corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smile but close enough. he leans back, gesturing to the seat across from him with a lazy flick of his wrist. “sit. might as well stay awhile.”

you slide into the booth, your drink forgotten on the sticky table between you. he’s watching you—really watching you—and it makes you feel like you’re under a spotlight.

“what’s your name?” he asks, and when you tell him, he nods, like he’s trying it out in his head.

“i’m axel.”

the conversation is easier than you expect. there’s an ease to him that draws you in, a quick wit that keeps you on your toes. he teases, his words laced with a dry humor that makes you laugh, and when you fire back, his smirk deepens.

every now and then, his fingers drum against the table or his leg bounces under the booth, like he’s restless, like sitting still too long might kill him.

“you’re not from around here, are you?” he asks at one point, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“what gave it away?”

he shrugs, tipping his head to one side. “you don’t look like someone who spends their nights in places like this.”

“and you do?”

this earns you a real laugh—a low, rough sound that makes your chest tighten. “fair enough,” he says, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table.

you don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, the noise of the bar becomes too much. axel glances toward the door, then back at you.

“wanna step out?”

you nod, and he’s on his feet before you can even respond.

the night air is cold, biting at your skin as you step outside. the alley beside the bar is dimly lit, the faint glow of streetlights reflecting off wet pavement.

axel shoves his hands into his pockets, leaning against the rough brick wall with an ease you envy.

“better,” he mutters, glancing over at you.

you nod, unsure what to say. the quiet feels heavier out here, but not uncomfortable. he’s watching you again, his gaze unflinching, like he’s sizing you up or trying to figure you out.

“so,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “what brought you here tonight?”

you hesitate. “just… needed to get out. clear my head.”

he nods slowly, like he understands. “yeah. i get that.”

his hand brushes yours as he shifts, just a light touch, but it sends a jolt through you. you glance at him, and he’s still looking at you—closer now, his head tilted slightly.

“is this okay?” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

you don’t answer, not with words. instead, you step closer, your fingers curling into the lapel of his jacket, pulling him in.

his lips are on yours before you can even think. the kiss is soft at first, tentative, like he’s waiting for you to pull away.

but when you don’t, he deepens it, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, the other pressing against your waist.

he tastes like whiskey and something sharper, something that’s just him. the world narrows to this—his warmth against you, the rough drag of his jacket under your fingers, the faint hitch in his breath when you press closer.

when you finally pull apart, he doesn’t move far. his forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your cheek.

“didn’t think this is how my night was gonna go,” he mutters, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“same,” you admit, your voice barely steady.

he chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against the side of your neck before he finally pulls back, leaning against the wall again.

“guess it’s not a bad surprise,” he says, his smirk turning softer.

you can’t help but smile back, the warmth in your chest chasing away the chill of the night.

…

hope you all enjoyed!! :))

taglist: @karmaswitch @mamasfavourite @timotheechalametswifeys @jeonkoowife @justchillin13 @yslbaeee @adv3rs1ty @yaya-1loveart @yoyoyourmum @amnesique @astreiz @izzyelise11

[derww]

DEVOTIONS WEEK DAY 6: FRIENDLY/PARANOIA

– Listen, – Spoke begins, sitting with his legs apart and leaning on them, on a block of netherite in the middle of the dupe vault, – I know that I've been acting strangely lately, right?

– That's not the right word,– Mapicc grumbles – he stands leaning against a wall of beacons, arms crossed, – a little more, and you would have completely switched to riddles.

– I know, I know, I'm sorry, – Spoke raises his hands, showing that he gives up, – I thought to keep everything to myself – here, you know, such a delicate matter, anyone can break everything, – he hesitates, – but then I realized that the simplest way to get you in my way is to keep you in the dark.

– I wish I could say you're wrong, – Zam stammers, – but you're probably completely right. To be honest, I've been very worried about you these last few days, all you've been doing is saying mystical phrases and refusing to clarify, I already thought that you were betraying us.

– Fair enough,– Spoke nods, – I'll tell you. But this has to stay just between the three of us. No one else has to find out; otherwise, everything will be at risk. Do you understand?

– What about Ro, – Mapicc interrupts, – even he can't know?

– He can't. Neither Roshambogames, nor TheTerrain, nor Vortexdragon. Just the two of you. It should be a secret from everyone. I can only tell you two.

Mapicc gives him a dark look and shakes his head – suspects, does not believe – but does not continue.

Zam looks at him from under his brows. Even now, holding on to different walls, he and Mapicc feel like one team, – what's the matter, Spoke?

He grins.

– This is a large-scale plan that originates before the start of the season. A glitch capable of determining the order of this world for years to come. The vulnerability is in the very code of reality. The whole dupe war is just part of the setup for it, and when the plan is put into action, nothing that happens at the level of ordinary players will cease to matter.

– Are you going to end this world? – asks Zam with unreadable emotion.

– Oh, Zam, – Spoke shakes his head, – I'm going to do a lot more.

***

– I just can't take it seriously anymore, – Zam shares, gnawing on a cookie. – Ro and his plans, – clarifies, – all his plans, you know? What difference does it make if Spoke turns the server into his playground very soon?

– He's having fun, – Mapicc shrugs, – weren't you having fun?

– Not really. I tried, because you are my team, but I never got better. It's not my thing.

– But you're so calm about the Wormhole. How is this better?

– It takes any responsibility out of the hands of the players, – Zam shakes his head, – what difference does it make if someone has an op? This world is obviously doomed, and you are my team, so why would I bother?

– I don't understand how you think. – And, distracted instantly, – I would have told him, but Spoke is right. The information is too sensitive. He's already taken a big risk by including us in.

– I would not like to fail to meet his expectations.

– I wouldn't want to mess up his plan. It's cool.

– It is... It's cruel, – Zam snorts, dragging his fingers along the masonry floor of the base. A modest poppy is breaking through the seams, – but I will not stop it. I respect Spoke. But, you know what?

– Hmm? 

– Spoke will regret it.

***

– How would you explain it at all, mind who? – Vi throws up his hands. A helpless expression is stuck on his face.

– We didn't like our team anymore, and we came for an interview, – Zam calmly replies, hanging down to see the swirling thick fog.

– To a secret base?... – Vi ironically clarifies, and Zam, grunting, nods, as if it was absolutely normal and definitely not crazy.

– I mean, – Mapicc grins – he, unlike Zam, sticks to the wall, clearly not feeling safe, – the fact that we were able to find it quite counts for passing the test. Not that it was difficult, of course.

– You know we're going to war against you, right? – Subz remarks skeptically, clearly not seeing the need to keep this in his sleeve, – against Ro and Mapicc in the first place, but also against Zam and even Spoke, too.

– Publicly, fight as many as you want, – Mapicc snorts; for him, the idea that he could lead to a decrease in the amount of violence on the server would definitely be unthinkable, – we are here unofficially. As colleagues. We came to say hello and find out how you are here. How are you doing with your idiotic emocult.

Subz facepalms. Vi sighs heavily.

– You shouldn't have been included, – Vi grumbles, but he doesn't sounds angry. – the more people know, the higher the chance that information leaks out.

– You can't return what has been done, – Zam shrugs his shoulders. – but hey, we're your best bet, we keep secrets well, remember the dupe war? – he grins, – we will be friends, Vi, don't worry. Do you remember the end of the season 3? I do.

There is a deadly silence. It is interrupted by Mapicc:

– So, where's the sacrifice room or something?

***

– I don't really like all of this, – Zam sadly admits, poking at the side of a po potion, – it creates too much imbalance between the players. If Spoke gets an op, he will be the only one with absolute power. But now... They're just mortals playing gods. You may be immortal and omnipotent, but you're still human, actually. It's stupid.

– I can understand that,– Mapicc nods. – the way Ro shot Pangi? Absolutely not necessary. Bro, bro, you can pick up a sword and kill him yourself. 

– Yes... – Zam pulls, – I understand the thirst for power and advantage, but what's the point if all this is illegal and doesn't really belong to you? This is... wrong. I wouldn't want it all to be on the server.

– Do you want to betray Spoke? – Mapicc asks imperturbably, and Zam flinches.

— No... No, – he stammers, – of course I don't like it, but there's no point in betrayal. Of course, I can try to take illegal items from people and dump them into the lava, but it will never work. And Spoke will be a god very soon, and none of this will matter anymore. If he wants to, he will remove all these toys. If he wants to, he will give them to absolutely everyone. Then why do anything at all?

– You could tell Parrot what's going on, – Mapicc suggests disinterestedly, and Zam snorts.

– To him? It's too late, the illegal items are already on the server. Spoke has too much pressure on him.

– It must be hard for you,– Mapicc says suddenly.

– Why? 

– Things are wrong for you, and your prospects are meaningless.

– Isn't that true? – Zam is surprised.

– Who knows, – Mapicc shrugs, – I'm not inclined to overthink as you do, but I know that wherever I am, any decision I make counts. – And with a well-aimed blow, he smashes the bottle of potion into the wall.

***

– It's, like, pretty decent,– Zam comments when they get high enough to regard the position as private.

– Who, your self-esteem? – Mapicc laughs it off and intercepts his trident, which is almost completely blackened by the number of effects.

– The Wormhole, – Zam replies with a smile, and Mapicc looks up.

Below them is a huge war for a twisted and broken world. Above them – a blue–blue-purple funnel continues to spin inexorably.

– Well, at least something good came out of it. – Mapicc shakes his head.

– No, there's something else, – Zam adds meekly.

– And what is it?

– It will never happen again.

Mapicc clicks his tongue and nods, understanding.

– You're right about that. Once and never again.

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

LOL imagine knowing nothing about aftg and trying to pick the heroes / villains based on these results.

Thanks everyone, this is fascinating!

Thoughts so far -

Looks like voters judge the intention of the liar rather than falseness / offensiveness of the lie (except for Jean?). Possibly because most of these lies didn't deceive anyone.

Many of you don't count lying to oneself as lying, and technically that does have its own term. I don't think total self-delusion exists outside of serious brainwashing though... yeah ok Jean, but I believe Riko's entire being was haunted by the knowledge he was number two.

To be fair Riko doesn't actually lie much. He even told Neil up front exactly how he'd retaliate after being insulted again at Evermore.

Our heroes on the other hand... can't trust 'em as far as we can throw 'em.

No one believes you Andrew. Honestly, you put someone else's needs before your own one two three many times and suddenly no one believes you're soulless.

And Neil! So much more than Jeremy? It may have taken him 3 books but he IS fine! Admittedly he isn't Neil, but he is fine! Who or what is Jeremy??

Glad to see all the love for Wymack. He was my choice cos he's Wymack yet I think Nicky, loveable though he is, is the least trustworthy character, and that was a bad thing to get wrong. We really do let him off the hook, huh. (Do you ever wonder whether we're supposed to?)

Of course we all know our angel is a devil. No arguing with Renee being badass.

Also, the types of lies:

- Neil and Riko - 'I'll fake it til I make it'

- Andrew and Jean - 'if I expect nothing I won't be disappointed'

- Renee and Wymack - 'if you expect nothing you won't be disappointed'

- the others - 'I have a secret I can't tell'

Kind of chilling to think Kevin is the one person who might actually be telling the truth. I was hoping more people thought he wasn't.

Is it really Neil?

I couldn't think of any Aaron-lies (dammit), but will be eternally grateful to anyone who does: I need to restore the balance

[defiantcatlady]

I'm so lonely I'm sick with it, and it's partly my own fault 😂 but I'm so tired of waking up alone and doing chores alone and going on walks alone and especially having dinner alone. all that's going through my mind all day every day is "can I go home now?" in the most pathetic, childish voice possible, where "home" isn't even anything that exists. I don't know how anyone can bear it. I can't. I don't know how to make it so I don't have to, and I'm so tired of trying to figure it out.

[dianartemiss]

i think what Jason wants (from Bruce at least) is to be loved transcendentally. he wants to be loved with earth shattering intensity, the kind that'll raze the world to the ground when lost and inspire greatness when present. Jason wants to mean something and to matter more than anything except for (maybe) another (worthy) human. Jason wants to be shown love in the way that he experiences love. but that kind of exclusive focus is impossible when your dad is Batman.

[copepods]

less gentle nurturing protective goddess c!kristin more amoral fickle petty divine being c!kristin who cares little for the affairs of mortals aside from her chosen favorites. more c!kristin who destroys lives with a flick of the wrist without sparing a thought, not out of malice but pure carelessness, as gods are wont to do

[moongothic]

We all know how a lot of Luffy's opponents have been in some ways premonitions of the type of person Luffy could end up as if something went wrong in his life. For example Moria is what Luffy could've become had he truly lost his entire crew at Sabaody if Kuma had not saved them

And we know Crocodile is what Luffy maybe could've become had Luffy given up on his dreams and become jaded after losing to him. But like, when you think about it, that's not the only dark reflection of Luffy in Crocodile, is it

'Cause Crocodile, despite employing people for Baroque Works, did not trust anyone around him and did not considder anyone to be anything else but an employee to him. And we know he had been planning on taking over Alabasta for like 14 years (at the very least), BW being a thing for only the past four (pre-timeskip)

So like. Did Crocodile spend the last 14 years alone

Like yes he had his workers at the Casino and Robin etc, so he was like, around people, he wasn't like Brook who was in Total Isolation. But on an emotional level, has he not spent the last 14 years all by himself, completely detached from anyone, unable to trust or rely on anyone else?

That is sad as fucking shit, holy hell

'Cause then you compare him to like Luffy and like

Our sweet baby boy was so afraid of being alone that Luffy literally went through hell just to gain Ace's approval despite Ace trying to signal to him he wasn't interested befriending him

And through out the whole series Luffy reiterates time and time again how he needs and wants his friends around because he literally can't live without them, both on a literal "he can't cook or navigate or have fun by himself" level but also on that emotional level

And Crocodile just. Spent 14 years of his life, if not longer, alone.

Sweet jesus what happened to this man

And that just makes me further wonder, what the absolute fuck were Crocodile's Rookie Pirate days like?? Like did he have a crew or was he just yolo'ing it by himself???

Like. Mihawk's never been on a crew as far as we know. Kuma was a Revolutionary, not a pirate, but he wasn't like alone still. Doflaming, Hancock, Jinbei and Moria however have/had crews of their own. So what was Crocodile's deal? Did he have a crew before? Was he a captain or was he on someone else's ship? (Although surely the Government wouldn't offer the position of a Shichibukai to a cabin boy or the first mate, right)

And if he did have a crew, the hell happened to them??

Like we know Crocodile got his ass kicked by Whitebeard, I just find it unlikely Whitebeard would've pulled a Kaidou on Crocodile's crew and slaughtered them, that's not a very Whitebeard-y thing do, right?? ...Unless Whitebeard was just different 20+ years ago and was willing to annihilate entire crews. We don't know. Or maybe Crocodile and his entire crew were like Turbo Rotten from the beginning and Whitebeard figured they deserved to get wiped out, much like how we saw Shanks wipe out Kid's crew at Elbaf. Or maybe Whitebeard saw no reason to have mercy on someone affiliated with the World Government.

That all said, if we wanted to assume Crocodile had somekind of trauma that lead to him viewing people not only as disposable but also untrustworthy, then maybe losing people dear to him like that wouldn't lead to that mindset. Like Moria witnessed his beloved crew die and that caused him to want to create a crew he couldn't die, so he wouldn't go through that emotional trauma again.

Which leaves me to wonder. If something caused him to lose his ability to (emotionally) trust people, and if Whitebeard broke his dreams... Maybe Crocodile had a crew. And maybe they abandoned him when he lost to Whitebeard. Figuring they didn't need a weak captain who was probably going to bleed to death anyways. Or maybe the crew tried to take his head (after Whitebeard kicked his ass), after all, he was already a Shichibukai, anybody who took Crocodile's head could maybe attempt to take that title for themselves if the Government allowed it, and if not, at least gain more fame for themselves.

Either of these scenarios would certainly result in you losing your ability to rely on others. And leave you willing to spend the rest of your life alone. Who would have in them to go through that again.

Or maybe he came out of the womb unable to trust people and he was just yolo'ing it by himself like Mihawk right from the begining, who knows

Regardless I'm just

[fubuwu]

Seeing people call jc an incel will always confuse me because like.... do they understand what being an incel means?

---

Incels despise women because they think they owe them sex and consider themselves too ugly and inferior to be pursued by the opposite sex.

---

Jc has never shown any desire to be with the opposite sex. He reads as being ace if anything. He's always been repulsed by the notion of love, romance and pdas and has never once proclaimed that women owe him sex. He doesn't seem interested in pursuing women at all, nor does he blame women for the worlds problems or treat them with disrespect. He blames most of the problems on wwx. He's wwx-ist if anything XD (jk).

---

Honestly, I'd say he's voluntarily celibate. He could realistically get any girl he wants and knows it, but he simply doesn't choose to. I honestly don't think he has any interest in getting wed tbh.

---

As for the marriage requirements, loads of men had those at that time and honestly, they weren't that unrealistic. Plus, I'm pretty sure they were never a main part of the text and just a joke mxtx came up with as to why he's still single. I find it infeasible that a handsome, powerful, rich man like him is single when arranged marriages exist in that universe, as seen with jfm and madame yu. A woman hating, incel would no doubt use that to their advantage and force marriage on any women they desire. Jc has the ability to do that giving his status and yet he doesn't. He doesn't even seek out comfort from women in brothels. Therefore, I can't see him having a hatred and disrespect for women when this notion also exists.

---

Incels also have zero respect for women in general including the ones in their lives. Their hatred often starts with their own mothers in fact. Jc obviously doesn't hate his mother or his sister. He cares deeply for them, in fact. Why else would he mourn them and be willing to stick up for his sister whenever people bad mouth her if he was a vile woman hater?

---

Idk I just think the incel claims are completely baseless. He is not angry and displeased because he is alone and single nor is he angry at women. His anger is all solely on wwx, the wens and dc in the book. It has never been towards women.

[aceredshirt13]

gang i have to share this P. G. Wodehouse quote with you all because ever since I found it I can't stop thinking about it. it's from a letter he wrote when he was 78 years old to his friend Guy Bolton (many thanks to P. G. Wodehouse: A Life in Letters)

I have been on the sick list myself, but am better now. Inflamed bladder or chill on the bladder or something, the symptoms being agony when I passed water, as the expression is. It brought back the brave old days when I used to get clap.

he really said "yeah the pain from my bladder issue reminds of the days when I used to have so much sex I repeatedly got venereal disease"

[kimetsu-chan]

I went on a walk with my dad

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

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