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occamstfs · 1 day ago

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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

#male tf #muscle tf #mental change #dumber #reality change #hair growth #jockification #male transformation #masculinization

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hairmetal666 · 2 years ago

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What if, after Vecna is defeated, Eddie lives and is recovering in the hospital and one day he's just gone. Like, Steve and the kids come to visit and his hospital room doesn't even exist anymore. It's just a blank stretch of wall. The nurses, nurses they know worked with Eddie, say they've never heard of Eddie Munson and there's never been a room where the kids insist there was the day before. Anyone else they ask says they've never heard the name, even though it was only weeks ago that the entire town formed a mob to hunt him down. Hopper and Murray look into it and there's no record of an Edward Munson in any database anywhere. His previous arrests are gone, his fingerprints, record of Wayne becoming his legal guardian, his social security number, his birth certificate. Even his Uncle Wayne, gone without a trace. Like neither man ever existed.

They search for years, always hoping for word, or a return, or anything. But Eddie was there one day and gone the next. Apparently forever.

They mourn, all of them. He was part of the group, part of the family, and then he was gone with no fanfare or goodbye. Then he was gone and every force in the world pretended like he'd never been there in the first place.

Steve, quietly, takes it hard. He spends weeks crying himself to sleep, clutching the ruined battle vest to his chest. It's just unfair, is all, Steve thinks. '86 was supposed to be Eddie's year.

Time passes and they all grow up, all move away from Hawkins. Steve and Robin move to Indy; she starts college and Steve gets a job at a little bakery because he's a regular already and they're hiring.

He loves baking, finds it calming in a way very few things are for him anymore. After a few good years, the store becomes his, and he didn't know he could be this happy or satisfied with his life, after everything.

He never stops thinking of Eddie.

Close to Steve's 30th birthday, a little bookstore opens up in the vacant building across the way. Steve sees the owner sometimes, dark hair pulled into a sloppy bun, pale skin, the occasional hint of black ink under his dark clothes. Beautiful. They wave at each other almost every morning and Steve ignores the reminders of Eddie. They're commonplace now. Any man with long dark hair, tattoos, and black clothing stirs a spark of recognition in Steve's gut, and the disappointment still hurts even after a decade.

Weeks pass and Steve notices a new display in the window of the bookstore; those dnd guides all the boys have, the dice with too many sides, the little plastic figures and pots of paints and delicate brushes. He vows, the next time the kids are in town, they'll go over and he'll finally introduce himself to that probably nice man whose only sin was a slight resemblance to a boy from Steve's past.

The kids come for a visit only a few weeks later, and are just as enthusiastic about going to the bookstore as he is to take them. He has them help bake his secret-recipe sugar cookies, decorate them in a dnd theme (Erica and Max say they're dorky, and he agrees, despite being pleased with the results).

Steve heads to the bookstore first, to warn the guy about the veritable horde of feral young adults about to descend on his quiet store.

He walks in to the sound of a gently ringing bell and Metallica playing at low volume on the store's speakers. Steve has to ignore it or he'll walk out.

"Be right with you," a muffled voice calls out.

"Take your time," he responds. He browses with the container of cookies in his arms, taking in all the dnd stuff, the signs about dnd club meetings, the stacks of new release books and a couple cds.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a soft, husky voice says back at the front of the store. It breaks Steve out in goosebumps.

"Don't worry about it. I'm from the bakery across the street, wanted to finally introduce myself. I brought goodies," he adds, sort of blushing.

He steps back up to the cash register, eyes finally settling on the owner he's only seen from afar and all the breath leaves his body. It leaves him lightheaded, dizzy.

Eddie Munson. Eddie. Munson. Stands behind the counter, hair in a bun with messy tendrils around his face. He looks the exact same. Maybe a few more lines around his mouth and eyes. But the same.

"Ed--Eddie?" Steve's voice croaks out. He barely manages to drop the cookies onto the counter and not the floor.

Eddie's deep brown eyes flood with tears, a hand--every finger with a ring--covers his mouth. "Steve," the other man sobs.

There's no hesitation as Steve flings himself into Eddie's arms, the other man catching him and holding him tight.

Eddie squeezes him, crying against Steve's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he repeats.

"I can't believe you're real," Steve murmurs between soft sobs, pressing his face against Eddie's neck.

"I'm real. I'm here," Eddie agrees. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

Steve pulls out of the embrace a little, just to look at Eddie's face. To see after all these years. He presses trembling fingers against the line of Eddie's jaw, and the other man leans into the touch, lets Steve trace the contours of his cheeks, his mouth.

"You're here," Steve agrees.

Their eyes lock, drink each other in, ten years of longing dancing at the knobs of Steve's spine.

"They took me away," Eddie says, deep brown of his eyes serious and pleading. "The government. They snuck me out in the middle of the night and forced me and Wayne to adopt new identities, sent us to New Mexico. Monitored us so I couldn't contact any of you. It killed me, Stevie. To be away from you. From Robin. The kids."

That snaps Steve out of his daze. "Oh, shit. The kids."

It's too late, though. The bell at the door jingles, the usual cacophony that accompanies the seven of them filling the little store in an instant.

Dustin's voice rings out, above the others, "this store is so fucking cool."

"Language," Eddie scolds on auto-pilot. When he realizes what he said and why, his eyes wash with new tears.

The kids turn, as one, to the man they never thought they'd see again.

Steve's fingers dance down Eddie's arm, finding his hand, twining their fingers together. Eddie tightens his grip. Steve's never letting go of this man ever again, and he knows with some deep, element certainty that Eddie feels the same.

"Eddie?" Dustin exclaims.

"Hiya, kid." Eddie smiles a little, ducks his head.

"What the fuck," Max says.

"Anyone have time for a story?" Eddie asks. He dashes away the few tears that track down his cheeks.

"We have all the time in the world," Steve agrees. Doesn't think before he lifts Eddie's hand and presses a kiss just below his knuckles.

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evielmostdefinitely · 9 months ago

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I would love see the first time that “excentric” aspect of they relationship started. Like how Coryo punishment her for the first time, She know what will happened? They talk about? And how she feel with that? Afraid ? Turn on ? Jealousy in think that probaly he did this with someone else ? Sorry if i wrote something wrong, english is not my first language

closer to the darkness |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: as requested, the dark backstory that led to you and coriolanus' exciting sex life.

contains: very very VERY DARK undertones. mentions prostitution and the exploitation that occurs in the capitol. public sex with undertones of slight humiliation. very very dark coriolanus. slightly manipulative and obsessive coriolanus. bdsm themes. dom!coryo x sub!reader. spanking. spanking with implement. oral (fem receiving). overall very dark smut. minors dni.

A simple invite, passed to him by the sly smirk of a classmate. “Snow,” Dennis hissed lowly, pencil tapping on the page of a book, eyes cutting to watch for the librarian. “A couple of us are going to The Underground tonight. Are you coming?”

Coriolanus blinked, face staying stoic, unreadable. He didn’t particularly like the boys in his class, not now anymore than years before. He found the civilness of their polite conversation to be useless now- now that he had you.

“I’m busy.” Coriolanus dismissed. He had no interest in going to their gambling billiards room or whatever this club was.

“Oh, come on.” Dennis grinned, head ducking low. “You can leave the Duke girl for a night. She won’t mind anyways. Her brothers are always there. You’ll be in kept company.”

Coriolanus perked at the mention. Your brothers, the two elder Duke boys that he hadn’t yet charmed the way he had your father and mother. A necessity to secure their approval. He knew they’d run the family business, already high up in the family ranks. If he planned to go forth with his game ideas, he’d need their investment.

That drove him to cancel his plans with you, a half-hearted excuse about studying, offering to spend the weekend with you instead. He joined the boys of his class, socialites and aristocrats alike, all wearing their family’s name like a badge of honor. Coriolanus followed them towards the luxury end of the Capitol, secluded and reserved for only the best of the Capitol goers, exclusion even in the highest class.

Coriolanus twisted the wad of cash in his pocket, hoping he could remember enough to pass at the roulette tables. “Here,” Dennis hummed, passing the small, black mask to Coriolanus when the doorman let them in.

“What’s this?” Coriolanus muttered, twisting the mask in his hands.

“Just part of it. I’m sure it helps the others feel their identity is well protected.” Dennis shrugged, tying the silk ends to the back of his head, eyes accentuated with the harsh black contrast of the material.

They gamble openly during the games, but are worried here? Coriolanus thought, fighting back an eye roll. Instead, he fastened the material, following the string of people through the darkened hallways. It felt far from luxurious, more like the burrows and halls he’d sneak with Lucy Gray back in District Twelve.

His mind wandered back to hers, furiously shaking her from his thoughts. He needed to be sharp, alert. Coryo had already decided he’d stumble into your brothers, hopeful he could still find them with the masks, that he’d sit at the right roulette table.

Coriolanus stilled when there was no table. No green velvet lined table with dice and cigar smoke, no liquor or Avoxes roaming about. No, instead, there was a small, circular stage with a single row of chairs surrounding it.

“Snow,” Dennis nudged his arm, pulling him from his thoughts. “We’re over here.”

Coryo followed him, thankful for the mask, hoping it would conceal his wandering eyes. What was this place? A stage in the middle, nothing else. Coriolanus’ chest tightened with fear, grim curiosity perhaps as he settled into his seat. All around him, men with masks, chatting with each other, all nearly identical in the dim light of the room.

“I heard they found her from Eleven.” The boy, Lucios, beside Dennis grinned.

“I’m quite bored of the homely looking girls. They always look frightened, like caged animals being led to slaughter.” Dennis rolled his eyes in boredom. “I wish they’d bring in another girl from One. They always know how to put on the best shows.”

“I’d even settle for Two.” Lucios cackled in a droning posh tone, waving over for his drink. “Maybe Three.”

“It wouldn’t even be a real girl from Three. A hologram.” Dennis laughed. “As long as it isn’t Twelve or Ten, they always have the worst smell.” He snarled, eyes cutting to Coriolanus, who was rigidly watching the interaction.

Dennis frowned, lips parting with a question, the trilling of a bell silencing him and everyone around them. All settling into their seats, quiet and still. Coryo’s heart beat so loudly it was deafening in his ears. Eyes scanning the room, he caught a glimpse of your brothers on the other side, eyes meeting only for a moment before the room fell dark. Completely pitch black, Coriolanus swallowed his rising panic, fists balling.

It was a set up, a conspiracy to get him here, kill him. Of course they’d want to, they wanted you all for their own. Dennis had commented on you weeks ago, congratulated him behind bared teeth. How could he be so stupid? How could he not see?

A single light blinded him, body tensing at the sudden intrusion of light spilling above the stage. Underneath the beam, a man stood. His face was concealed entirely by a red mask that covered all his features, dressed in appropriate but dark wear, but with gloves that matched his mask. Next to him, a girl kneeling in a collar, and just a collar. Her face not covered, oh no, Coriolanus could see every line of fear, shine of terror though she tried to hide it.

“Gentlemen,” The man’s voice was loud, even through the muffling of the mask it rang through the silent room. “Tonight our guest from Nine.” His gloved hand ran over her tied hair, and Coriolanus didn’t miss the way she shivered, biting her lip in fear.

Coriolanus watched in eerie intrigue as the man brought her to a small bench like contraption, making a large show of securing her arms and legs, so she was left spread, vulnerable to the audience to see the most intimate parts of her.

Coriolanus’ chest burned, maybe with fear, maybe with something else. Your brothers were here, here. He hoped they hadn’t seen him, stomach turning with the fear of what you’d do if you found out- fear that you’d leave him. The man on stage’s droning words fell deaf on his ears, mind racing with a plan, a plan to leave before they’d see you. He couldn’t see the row on the other side because of the light, so he hoped they couldn’t see him.

His thoughts were stopped by a single cutting whistle of wood through the air, walloping onto skin with a resounding smack! followed by a muffled cry.

“In the dark times, far before the dark times, since nearly the beginning of time, there have been many forms of debauchery that have been used to cause excitement.” The man droned dramatically, twisting a leather paddle in his hand.

He tapped the girl’s left bottom cheek, before bringing his arm back, sending the paddle soaring onto her ass again. Coriolanus jumped slightly at the impact, mind dumbly blank of the worries from before. Nearly trance-like, watching the man paddle the girl, how she cried pathetically, how her flesh turned, blossoming with marks.

“There has always been a power imbalance.” The man continued, letting the paddle rub teasingly over her body. “There have always been the powerful, the helpless. Those who are in charge, those who are submissive- completely at the mercy of your cruelness, of your control.”

Coriolanus felt his pants tent, blood rushing from his head down to his throbbing cock. The man stalked, heavy footsteps that echoed in the room, back between the girl's legs. “There is a need for order. Even in intimacy.” He hummed, bringing the paddle down twice, two snapping flicks of his wrist.

Coriolanus swallowed, spit pooling in his mouth at the cries the girl gave. The man scanned the room, setting the paddle on her backside, slowly taking off a glove. Coriolanus leant forward, watching the man with intense intrigue.

“Because as we all know, there is pleasure in power.” The man boomed, his hand disappearing between the girl’s legs. A gasp ghosting on the edge of pleasure filled the room, her back arching at the sensation that was hidden from Coriolanus’ view, his eyes narrowing for a better view.

Coryo’s face blushed deeply, burning with excitement when the man’s fingers lifted, covered in sticky arousal from the girl that webbed his fingers. “And as you can see, there is pleasure in pain as well.” Though his face was hidden, Coriolanus could hear the smug smirk of his voice.

“My darling guest here is one who enjoys such pain, which is why she’s chosen to serve the Capitol and offer her services.” The man continued, wiping her release on his pants. “For the night, the rates bidding starts at a high price since she can only be shared once.”

Coriolanus slipped out when the bidding started, the lights dimming enough for him to see the exit. He walked furiously down the streets of the Capitol, throwing the mask furiously on the ground. Still, his cock throbbed, stirred to life, not at the girl but at the idea. The idea that you would be tied up, tilt that power to him entirely, be at his mercy and command.

He’d brain his throbbing cock as the reason his thoughts were scattered, why he showed up at your penthouse.

“I thought you were studying- oh!” You squeaked, letting the door fall with a snap shut, Coriolanus’ hands on your waist, kissing you with feverish hunger.

“I missed you.” Coriolanus rasped, your heart swelling at the words. “I couldn’t wait until this weekend. I had to see you. Had to taste you.”

Your knees wobbled at the words, tensing with excitement. You could feel his stiff cock on your hip, ignoring the way he rubbed himself into your hip, letting him settle between your legs. You were surprised when his plush lips pressed to the inside of your thighs, hot breath ghosting over your clothed pussy. Your fingers tangled through his hair when his lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, lapping and suckling.

Coriolanus knew what to do, what he needed to do to get you brainless, pliant before he’d suggest such a proposal. So he let you pull at his hair, let you tug at the roots while you whined and cried out, bucking beneath him as his tongue worked you open.

“I want to try something.” Coriolanus hovered above your sprawled out frame, slack and limp against the rustled sheets. His eyes were dark, looking down at you from the slope of his nose- it sent a shiver right through your already trembling frame. “If you’re willing.”

Brain still foggy from the previous orgasms, you nodded lazily. Of course you did, it was like clockwork to Coryo, all a part of his plan. “You always enjoy it so much when I’m rough with you,” Coryo began, biting back a smirk at how you blushed, body folding shyly into itself at his words. “I want to try something a little… more.”

“I don’t much care for torture.” You frowned, lips pulling in a scowl.

“I would never torture you, darling.” Coryo smiled softly, a small shake of his head that had you relaxing. “I think you’ll find this more pleasurable than painful.”

He had you over his thigh after a short amount of coaxing. Legs on either side of his thigh, body resting on the silk sheets behind him. He alternated sharp smacks to your ass that left you squealing, lifting in tense alert at the sensation only for his hand to slip back between your thighs, tease and pleasure you until you melted back onto his thigh. Until his spanks were met with pathetic whimpers of pleasure, rubbing yourself shamelessly on his thigh.

It was only the beginning. The very start of the shift in power for the two of you. First in the bedroom, then out in the world.

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aventurineswife · 21 days ago

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hello!! aventurine with a teen!reader who has a similar past like his?

Games of Survival

Summary: In a quiet moment of connection, Aventurine and you, a teen with a similar troubled past, bond over shared experiences of survival and manipulation. You both discuss the sacrifices made, the burden of choices, and the price of constantly playing a game with such high stakes. Despite your differences, you and Aventurine find solace in the unique understanding of each other’s struggles, realizing that, while scarred, neither of you is truly alone in the fight.

Tags: Aventurine x Teen!Reader, Platonic, Found Family, Shared Past, Emotional Bonding, Teen & Adult Friendship, Strategic Minds, High-Stakes Gambling, Emotional Scars, Understanding.

Warnings: Mentions of traumatic past, survival struggles, manipulation, implied mental/emotional scars, themes of loneliness and sacrifice.

The sound of a quiet shuffle echoed through the room, followed by the soft clink of dice as Aventurine expertly rolled them across a velvet surface. His sharp eyes remained fixed on the dice, as if they were the very essence of life itself—random, yet influenced by a hand much greater than fate.

You sat across from him, arms folded across your chest, your gaze never wavering from his. The two of you were an unlikely pair, sharing a connection no one else could quite understand. Like him, you'd once been pushed to the edge of society, discarded and forgotten. Like him, you'd survived by taking risks, by playing games with the world, knowing that one wrong move could lead to destruction.

"You've got the same look," Aventurine said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, almost amused, as he leaned back in his chair, his hands lacing together in front of him. "That far-off gaze, like you're already five steps ahead."

You tilted your head, the slightest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. He was right. You had the same knack for seeing patterns, the same sharpness in your eyes that reflected the same haunted past. His words had never been truer. You, too, had learned to manipulate the world, to bend it to your will—or risk being crushed by it.

Aventurine’s expression softened just a fraction as he met your gaze. "I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse," he mused, tapping his fingers on the table. "But it’s what keeps us alive. What keeps us... on top."

You knew what he meant. Life had never been kind to either of you. There was always a gamble at play, always something hanging in the balance. Your pasts were lined with similar scars: betrayal, loss, and a constant game of survival. But while most would falter, you and Aventurine had learned to rise above it. You both had learned to play the game in your own ways.

"I think we're both lucky," you said quietly, your voice firm despite the ghosts of the past still clinging to your thoughts. "We found ways to survive, to take control. But I never forget what it cost."

Aventurine's eyes flickered with something darker, something that spoke to the shared weight of your words. He didn't need to ask what you meant. He already knew. It was the price of your soul, the parts of you that you'd traded away in exchange for knowledge, power, and survival.

"That’s the game, isn’t it?" he said, his tone contemplative. "You don’t win without sacrifice. But we’re not like everyone else. We never will be."

You nodded, understanding fully. The games you played were ones others couldn’t even begin to comprehend, the stakes too high for most to ever even try. But for both of you, there was no turning back. You were trapped in the web you’d woven, a web of calculated moves and inevitable consequences.

For a moment, silence hung in the air between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was an understanding—two people who’d been shaped by the same cruel hands, two souls who had learned to navigate the chaos of the world by their own rules.

Aventurine’s smile returned, though this time it was gentler, almost wistful. "We might be similar," he said, "but we’re not the same. You’ve got a chance, a future. Me? I’m just a gamble, a bet that’s already been placed."

His words were playful, but you could hear the edge beneath them. The weight of his own choices, his own destiny, was something he didn’t share with anyone easily.

But you? You understood. And for once, the shared burden didn’t feel so heavy when it was carried by someone who truly saw you.

"Maybe," you said, your voice soft but resolute, "but we both know the rules, and we both know how to win."

Aventurine’s smile widened, a flicker of respect in his eyes. He lifted his glass in a subtle toast, and you did the same, clinking your glasses together. In that moment, you knew that despite everything—despite the scars, the broken pasts, and the games you played—you were not alone.

The game had just begun.

#hsr #honkai star rail #x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr aventurine x reader

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marveltrumpshate · 2 months ago

Text

Want to participate in Marvel Trumps Hate, but don't know what to offer? Think outside the box!

Stumped on what to offer because you don't write fic or draw? Marvel Trumps Hate welcomes a huge variety of fanworks and fan labor (see our sign-up post), so there are different ways you can contribute. You'll be amazed by the breadth of skills, talents, knowledge, and types of creative expression found in fandom!

Here's a smorgasbord of offers that we've either had before or seen people discuss as possibilities for MTH 2024 or future years to help inspire you. What you can offer is not restricted to the list below; these are just examples to get you brainstorming about what you can auction off because trust us, even if you think you might not have something to offer, you probably do!

ART (VISUAL/ILLUSTRATIVE)

Drawings/illustrations

Single-page and multi-page comics

Pixel art

Paintings (oil, acrylic, gouache, watercolor)

Mixed-media artwork on canvas

Ink-on-bristol art

Embroidery on canvas

Pour paint/spin art

Rotoscopes

Digital coloring books

AUDIOVISUAL WORKS

Fan music or filk inspired by characters, ships, or fics

Podfics

Videos (fic trailers, themed edits, vids set to songs)

Animations (making original art/animation or turning existing art into animation)

BETA SERVICES

Editing

Cheer reading

Soundboarding/planning/development work

Fact-checking

Culture-picking

Sensitivity reading

Knowledge about specific topics or experiences (e.g., identities, lifestyles, professions, interests, fields of study)

Research

CRAFTS & MERCH

Candles

Lip balms

Soaps

Stained glass/suncatcher

Scented beanbag-style sachets

Candy/chocolate/baked goods/jellies/sweets

Fic/character/ship/theme boxes (like book boxes)

Pins, magnets, patches, charms, standees, key chains, ring holders, calendars, stickers, bookmarks, temporary tattoos

Sculptures and clay figures

Ceramic mugs and other ceramic items

Apparel/wearable accessories (shirts, jackets, scarves, gloves/mittens, hats, face masks, regular masks, cowls, pajamas/onesies)

Backpacks, tote bags, itabags with custom window shapes, leather dice bags, wallets, pouches/pencil cases

Plushie animal or Tsum Tsum versions of Marvel characters

Dolls (crochet, needle felt, matte board, hand-sewn)

Embroidery hoops/wall art and cross stitch pieces

Jewelry (diamond painting, macrame, metal, crochet, wire, beads)

Woodwork/wood burning (cheese board, box/chest, USB stick, coasters, photo frame, alphabet blocks)

Glasswork

Custom Funko Pops

Paper cut light boxes

Pillow cases, quilted pillows, baby blankets, dishcloth/washcloths, potholders

Handmade leather journals

Linoleum stamps

Dog/cat/pet toys

Artbooks, paper doll books, and coloring books

Hand-dyed yarn skeins

Custom tea blends

DIGITAL (GRAPHIC DESIGN)

Gifsets

Graphics/edits

Mood boards

Photo manips

Fic covers/posters/banners

Icons and headers

Webweaving

Tumblr or website layouts

Digital calendars

Wallpapers

Custom Discord emojis

FAN LABOR & TRANSLATION

Typesetting

Bookbinding

Recipes based on characters, ships, or themes

Names, tags, and summaries for fics

Audio/sound editing and/or soundscaping for podfics

Book cover design and printing

Art/comic/fic translation

Website/game/AO3 skin coding

Fic rec lists

Fic playlists/fanmixes

Knitting/crochet patterns

Art coaching

Help with launching and organizing fan events

WRITING

Fic

Poetry

Meta posts

Social media AUs

Physical letters written by characters to the reader or between two characters

Remixes of your fic or an existing fic with the author's permission

Whether you can do something on this list or something else altogether (we're sure there are a lot of other things that you can do that we haven't thought about or seen before), we hope you'll consider signing up before the deadline: September 28, 11:59 PM ET.

#marvel trumps hate #mth 2024 #announcement

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stellarspecter · 5 months ago

Text

Who Is That Brand New Babygirl?

@stevieweek Day 1: Stobin | Day 2: Gender Euphoria | Dice Roll: 7. Lingerie

(since there were 10 extra prompts provided, i decided to roll a d10 each day for an extra prompt along with the daily theme! and i combined day 1 and day 2 because i didn't get anything out yesterday and it fit my idea anyway lol) (also divider by @/thecutestgrotto)

read on AO3

“How about this one?”

Stevie took the lacy scrap of fabric that Robin had shoved in her face. “I like the color.” The panties were blush pink, with a wide band of lace at the top.

“There’s a matching bralette, too.” Robin pointed across the aisle to a rack of bralettes, some of them the same color as the panties she held in her hand.

Stevie flushed. “I don’t know…” Wearing panties was one thing, but a bra? “I don’t even have any growth yet.” She gestured aimlessly to her chest, where the hormones she had only just started taking still had yet to work their magic.

“That’s why it’s a bralette, not a bra. No cups,” Robin explained. “Think of it like a training bra. My mom made me start wearing them in middle school and it was kind of weird, but it does make you more used to wearing one. And feel more grown up, which I guess you don’t really need help with because you’re already an adult, but you know. More like a woman.” She stopped talking with that look on her face that meant she was trying to hold in a patented Robin Ramble™.

“I thought you hated bras,” Stevie pointed out. Robin always made a point of complaining about her bra digging into her ribs, and at this point Stevie thought there might be more of them scattered around her house than in Robin’s, since she always hurried to take them off when she walked in the door.

“I do, but that’s because of the underwire. These ones don’t have that, see?” Robin showed her the simple elastic band at the base of the cups. “Bralettes like this are usually pretty comfortable unless the lace is too scratchy or something.”

Stevie hummed in acknowledgement and ran her fingers across the pink lace. It was soft to the touch, and she couldn’t help but imagine what it might feel like sliding across her skin, under her shirt, a secret from the rest of the world.

She really wanted it.

But what if it wasn’t right? What if she put it on and looked in the mirror and all there was staring back at her was a man playing dress-up, brutish and muscled and ridiculous? She didn’t think she could take the disappointment.

“I…” Her hand hovered over the rack, that fear holding her back.

“Here, we’ll get a few sizes,” Robin said, businesslike as she combed through them and plucked a few out. “You can try them on in the dressing room and see which one you like best, okay?”

“In the dressing room? But won’t someone — I mean, they’ll see that I have —” She stumbled over her words and just waved her hands at the pile of lace in Robin's hands.

Robin considered it for a moment, and then shrugged. “We can say it’s mine and you’re just helping me. Come on.”

With that, she led them to the back of the store, where a bored employee pointed them towards an empty fitting room all the way in the back, much to Stevie’s relief. They shuffled into the little cubicle together, the closeness not even close to a problem for them.

Stevie fingered the edge of her shirt nervously. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean what if —” She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “— what if it doesn’t fit?” She finished lamely.

“Then we go back out and get another size,” Robin answered. She seemed to understand the unspoken fear beneath her words, and took Stevie’s hand. “I’ll bring the whole lingerie section in here one by one if I need to, okay? We’re not leaving until we find something you feel good in.”

Stevie let out a shaky breath and squeezed Robin’s hand. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.” With a burst of confidence, she whipped off her shirt and threw it down on the little bend built into the wall. Robin cheered like she was at a sold-out show, not in the back hallway of a department store where other people could definitely hear them. It made Stevie laugh, though, which was almost certainly the point, based on Robin’s satisfied smile.

She pulled a bralette off of its hanger and stared at it for a moment. Would the thing even fit over her head? Were her shoulders too broad? It didn’t have a clasp, so she had to try. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and put it on.

“Let me help you with the straps,” Robin murmured, soft hands fiddling with the fabric stretched across her back. After a moment, she smoothed her hands across it and stepped away. “Perfect.”

Stevie’s eyes watered under her closed lids. “Perfect?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Robin whispered, gentle in a way that most people who knew her probably didn’t think she was capable of. But Stevie knew her down to her bones, and she got this side of Robin that barely anyone else got to see — the caretaking, loving, protective side of her that knew the nuance of a gentle touch. “Perfect. You wanna take a look?”

Stevie nodded, heart pounding in her chest, Robin’s hands on her shoulders, steering her towards the mirror. She felt paralyzed with the weight of the moment, this one thing that could make or break her whole transition. What if it didn’t fit her? What if she didn’t fit it?

But Robin had said she looked perfect.

Stevie opened her eyes.

In the mirror in front of her stood a woman. Brown hair just brushing her shoulders, moles dotting her tanned skin, blue jeans starting just under her belly button. The blush pink bralette cupped her breasts — her pecs — her boobs in a gentle curve. The wide lace band at the bottom secured it all, and the thin straps drew attention to her shoulders, yes, but also to her delicate collarbones and throat framed between them. The woman in the mirror reached a shaking hand up to feel, and at the first touch of lace to her fingertips, Stevie couldn’t help but sob.

“Oh, Stevie,” Robin said, bundling her in her arms immediately. “What is it? What’s wrong? Do you want to find a different one? Just tell me what you want, I’ll go find something for you, okay?”

“No, it’s — it’s perfect,” Stevie sobbed, tear tracks rolling picturesque down her cheeks. She hoped they wouldn’t drip on the fabric. “I just — I look like a woman.”

“Oh,” Robin breathed. She smiled softly over Stevie’s shoulder in the mirror. “So you’re finally seeing how the rest of us see you, huh?”

That made her start crying all over again, her smile staying fixed on her face. “I — Really? You’re not just saying that or buttering me up, you really — you really see me like this?”

“Really really,” Robin confirmed somberly. “I mean, I don’t know why you said you didn’t have boobies. Have you seen these?” She brought her hands up to Stevie’s chest, stopping just below the end of the bralette to frame them.

Stevie huffed out a wet laugh. “I guess they do fill it out pretty nicely.”

“You guess?” Robin said incredulously. “We gotta find some measuring tape so we can figure out your actual cup size. I bet you’re a B cup already, at least. It’ll be crazy to see how they look in a year.”

“Oh yeah,” Stevie said faintly. “I’m — going to get bigger.” She stared at herself in the mirror intently, analyzing where she might change. “Should we even be shopping this early? I’ll probably grow out of it in a few months.”

Robin shrugged. “It’s a rite of passage, Stevie. Every girl has their first bra. Their first training bra. Then their first real bra. Then they realize bras suck and stop wearing them. Then they realize they’ve been showing full nipple in public on accident for the last week and regrettably, go back to it.”

“That last part might just be you,” Stevie teased.

“So what if it is, it could happen to anybody!” Robin said indignantly. “But seriously, it’s normal to have to go bra shopping a lot while you’re still growing them. I’ll keep going with you, if you’d like.”

Stevie smiled at her in the mirror and caught her hand. “I would like.”

Robin met her eyes through the glass, warmth pouring out. “Awesome.” She stepped back and cleared her throat. “Okay, let’s have you try on the other sizes, just in case, and then maybe we can go find a couple more colors? I think they had some more in this style.”

“Okay,” Stevie agreed. “Thanks for doing this with me. And for being such a good friend.” She took the bralette off and turned around to hand it back to Robin, only to be met with her suspiciously shiny eyes.

“Of course, Stevie,” Robin told her. “Anything for my girl.”

#stevieweek #stevieweek24 #*writes #stranger things fic #stobin #stevie harrington

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pitchmoss · 7 months ago

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🔮Mandatory Mods: these are the ones that make the pretty/gameplay mods work.

BG3 Script Extender: The Script Extender adds Lua/Osiris scripting support to the game.

BG3 Mod Manager: What it says on the tin; allows you to organize and import mods to your game.

Improved UI: Changes existing UI to enhance the current modding scene by removing intrusive in-game warning and enhancing character creation options. Only download IMPUI.

Item Shipment Framework: This framework is designed to supersede Tutorial Chest usage by enabling mod authors to easily add new items to the camp chests and player inventories.

Volition Cabinet: A library mod for creator's other mods.

IMPORTANT: When modding on Nexus, don't ignore pop-ups before downloading because some particular mods require some less common support mods to work. I don't list every single one here especially if it's like, a one-off for one mod. (Nexus will give you a pop-up before downloading so you don't miss it)

Be sure to check Requirements and creator's additional info + FAQ when downloading mods. GLHF <3

🐲Gameplay Mods

Origin Themed Weapons & Cloaks: A selection of weapons and cloaks inspired by and for the origin characters. (Not game breaking or over powered).

havsglimt's Class Mods: This creator makes really good looking class mods from existing settings like Grim Hollow's First Vampire Warlock, College of Spirits Bard from Van Richten's Guide to Ravenloft, Swarmkeeper Ranger from Tasha's Cauldron of Everything, and Graviturgy Wizard inspired by Wildemount's Dunamancy Wizard.

🌈Aesthetic Mods: let’s beautify this game some more!!

Unique Tav Custom Appearance: Gives Tav unique body textures and model, unique face makeup textures, unique face tattoo textures, and also adds body tattoos as an option. I also upscaled the body tattoos because I love you. Now you are very special.

@astarionposting aka MantisMods on Patreon makes fantastic face presets, recreating some of our favorite fantasy characters to play as in BG3. I currently have her OC Presets VOL. I, House of the Dragon Presets, and Ada Wong from RE.

@cedastarions also on Patreon and Nexus, makes a wide variety of face presets for pretty much any style of character in BG3, along with some very pretty Reshades. I have the beautiful Maya and Talia, Solo and Aurora Presets.

Basket Full of Equipment SFW: Over 800 pieces of new armor and equipment, mainly for human-like races. (Not as overwhelming to navigate as it may seem; organized. Compatible with dye mods).

Camp Clothes in the Camp Chest: This mod adds a new wardrobe to the camp chest, housing all camp clothes, shoes, and underwear.

Astralitie makes beautiful, fun mods like: Elven Anthology, Natural & Fantasy Skintones, More Hair Colors, and Feywild Eyes.

Tav's Hair Salon: Collection of hairstyles. Mostly for elf/half-elf/drow/human/tiefling bodytypes 1&2. Not an override, they're additional hairs added to your game.

Icon and Race Patches for Tav's Hair Salon: Adding icons to the hairs and to add compatibility with some custom race mods.

Piercing Improvement: Adds physics to piercings, so they look animated when the character moves.

Extra Dyes for the Fashionable Folk of Faerun: Adds new, unlimited-use dyes to the game! (Yes, they're actually unlimited and also, gorgeous.)

Kryo's Dice Collection: A collection of various dice skins based on the vanilla Behir Blue die. (I've had 0 problem with this)

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 mods #this mod list is mild. im just starting and i hope this is also a good starting point for ppl new to modding in bg3 #i do find nexus to be annoying to sift thru at times and i wish ppl made lists like this so! i did #reblogs appreciated but Not required since I will be updating this as I play #moss.post #my modlist

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chaifootsteps · 9 days ago

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Hiya! If you don't mind a little bit of Hazbin-themed venting, I've got something I'd like to get of my chest, if that's alright!

I'll start this by saying that I'm...uh, well, a decently competent artist. The sort that can land some goofy roles here and there, those entirely irrelevant to this ask. Saying this not to brag, of course, but just to illustrate that I have spent years on my craft and take it very, very seriously!

My art has always generally leaned a certain direction, and that direction has overlap with VivziePop's art style, incidentally. I've never taken inspiration from her—my inspirations can be sourced elsewhere—and my artistic journey has not involved her whatsoever. Regardless, in real life, in the past recent years, people have repeatedly compared my art to Hazbin Hotel. Over, and over, and over. When the show came out, those comparisons ramped up, and I feel like by pure misfortune I have this shadow casted on me, as if I owe all that I've worked for to a coincidence.

I don't know. There's no real way for me to prove that I 100% did not take after Vivzie since I don't really have the Internet footprint for it. My friends and loved ones can attest to my work being my own, but...there's nothing I can do. People look at me and see someone else now. I've had comparisons before, but nothing like this. I consider art ultimately as an expression of the self, and to know that others hear a voice that's not my own is nothing short of distressing.

I would like to post my work online, and I'm itching to (if the dice rolls well on it) make my own cartoon, but I kinda sorta fear that those Hazbin comments'll end up dominating the space and, uh, I admit I don't trust the Hazbin Hotel fandom to be nice about it.

I'm considering the idea of changing my art to escape all the comparisons, but I also hate the idea of changing myself over something vain and, really, so, so dumb. I like my art. I think it's different, and I think it's me. It works for what it's meant to do! I just...wish other people could see that, y'know?

I've developed a sort of embarrassment over work that I've been chipping away at for over a decade because of this, and I find myself demoralized over making and showing art knowing exactly how other people are going to percieve it. I'll for sure still do what I do, but I find myself at a low point, and I felt the need to yell it out there. I'd be more than happy to welcome any advice on how to tackle this issue!

Trust me, Anon, you're far from the only artist who's run into this problem. You'd be surprised how often it comes up.

I think you've got to just do your own thing, even if some of the comments make you develop an eye twitch. There will always be people who see your hard work and unique style for what it is, and you can't hold back your talents just because Vivienne Medrano happens to be dooking up the Earth. The world needs more artists and more stories!

#Anonymous #viv stuff #actual blog post

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pastryland · 1 year ago

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charlos completed fic recommendations

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

Will update this list periodically

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

punctuated all wrong - 7k - ❤️ ⭐️

Prompt: "I don’t know if someone else agrees with me but I’m a sucker for the whole person A falls in love with person B but they think they don’t deserve person B’s love trope and I’d love to see how it would play out with charlos (not saying who’s person A and who person B, even though that should be pretty obvious)"

head over heels - 44k - ❤️ 🔥

“Oh, really, you think that you, Carlos Sainz, somehow have a kink so fucked up that I wouldn’t be able to handle it, do tell me what it is”, he says, “is it spanking maybe, I’m sure you think that’s beyond taboo, you want to drape me over your lap, punish me for being a bad boy?”, Carlos shakes his head, a small glint in his eye, “Bondage then? Do you want to tie me up?”, another shake of the head, “Whips? Paddles? Feathers?”, Carlos continues shaking his head and so Charles leans in further, his voice dipping lower as he continues. “Maybe you’re into age play then”, he pushes closer, so their faces are only inches apart, “do you want me to call you daddy?”, the air between them feels like it’s on fire as Carlos breathes out a hot laugh, giving another miniscule shake off the head. “Then tell me”, Charles demands and waits as Carlos seems to consider him for a moment, before leaning forwards so his lips are next to his ear, his breath hot against his skin, sending shivers cascading down his body. “Love”.

i feel so much, i feel so numb - 23k - ❤️ ⭐️ 🔥

As long as he’s known what a soulmate is, he’s known his soulmate’s name. Carlos. Scrawled along the delicate skin of his right wrist.

can't sleep 'til i feel your touch - 8k - ⭐️ 🔥

“I could...” Carlos trails off, and Charles drops his hands from his temples, looking at him curiously. “You could, what?” “...give you a hand.” He says it so casually that it takes Charles a minute to even attempt at understanding what he means. ~ ~ OR: Charles develops insomnia, and the only thing that helps is...Carlos?

the trials of 2022 - 33k - ❤️ ⭐️ 🔥

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

dice che ti ama (ma lo sai che mente) - 2k - ⭐️ 🔥

But Charles smiled, dimples out and about, back against the wall of Carlos’ driver’s room. Like he knew he wasn’t in danger. Like he hadn’t entered a lions’ den looking like a three course meal. (Like he knew Carlos was all bark and no bite, and toying with the metaphorical rubber band —stretch, stretch, stretching— wouldn’t ever make it snap into his straight nose.)

Almost Total Wreck - 2k - 🔥 - also has Pierre/Charles

He imagines telling Pierre about it: he spat right in my face and I came like that it was so good, and he’s already replacing the man’s orgasm with his own, making his wounded sounds as he drags it out kicking and screaming, so that by the time he’s done his stomach hurts with it, his head pounds like a fever, more ache than pleasure but that’s what pleasure is, isn’t it?

worthy is the lamb (thank you for the price you paid) - 12k - ⭐️ ❌ 🔥

Predestined (adjective): [ˌpriːˈdes.tɪnd] If you say that something was predestined, you mean that it could not have been prevented or changed because it had already been decided by a power such as God or fate.

my blood is singing with your voice (the saints can't help me now) - 13k - ⭐️ 🔥

He was there. (God was also there.) Carlos walked towards the altarpiece (and the back with the white t-shirt) breathing through his nose like a bull. The cross on his chest wasn’t warm because it got a little chilly at night. He turned. “Carlos.” “Hey, Charles.” “You say my name weird.” Carlos swallowed. “Oh—” “I like it.”

all the king's horses, all the king's men - 38k - ❤️ ⭐️ 🔥

Carlos Sainz was eight years old when he fell in love. (For the first time.) It was at a race track. (It wouldn’t be the last time.)

little of your love - 5k - ⭐️ 🔥

in which Charles gets accidentally knocked up by Pierre, and he’s determined to raise the baby himself. Carlos is having none of that.

I Fell for Your Magic - 10k - 🔥

Charles had been the one to decide the sun rose and set with Carlos Sainz Jr. And it was Charles who had unexpectedly fallen in love with his teammate over the last couple years.

last night - 24k - ⭐️ 🔥

Rule #1: When you go to America, don't lose your virginity to your best friend's roommate. Charles fails Rule #1.

internal mechanics - 15k - ⭐️ 🔥

"Charles was with someone at the gym," Carlos hisses into the phone.

are we out of the woods yet? - 10k

Charles takes a few moments to consider it. It doesn’t sound like him at all. “So I really wanted it.” “Yes,” Carlos repeats, and then frowns. “Do you think–” His voice hardens just the slightest bit, leaning into… something that Charles can’t really place. “I didn’t make you do it.” Charles shifts away from him, staring at the other wall instead. “Of course. But anyway, I don’t know. I don’t remember it anyway.”

mind over matter is magic - 6k - ⭐️ 🔥

Carlos leaned on the side of the pool that overlooked Singapore at night. Arms crossed over the ledge — Carlos almost wanted to look down below. Feel the swoop in his stomach at the realization of how high up they were, relish on it. But, he rationalized, looking at Charles Leclerc usually had the same effect.

the hours i lost - 3k

Charles thinks he was foolish to be afraid of this, of Carlos. He thinks he was foolish to let himself get this far. He thinks he should have given in years ago. He thinks he’ll regret everything once he’s sober.

all the same old places - 13k - ⭐️

Charles stares at Carlos, then. Right at him. His eyes haven't changed, either. They're still the same shade of green - almost blue, even more so in the warm light of the sun. For reasons unknown, Carlos feels like smiling.

Pouring - 10k

At the age of ten, it's easy to talk about how his soulmate will be someone tall and certainly a brunette, because no one really knows what to expect until the moment they actually meet them.

Ballad of a Thin Place - 39k - ⭐️ 🔥

Thrust into the aristocracy after marrying a baronet's daughter, Charles, now a lord, struggles to adapt to the quiet life of an estate in the English countryside. Desperate for the connection and compassion that is lacking from his wife, he pursues a torrid affair with the handsome gamekeeper on their estate, a man who has a past he's trying to escape...

you bring me back to life - 1.8k

Charles said nothing, instead opting to ask him how he had been doing in his racing career. Arthur excitedly relayed everything that he could remember, from paddock gossip to results from race to race. It felt good to be surrounded by family. Not for the first time, he wished that he would have stayed. It is too late anyway. If he dwells on the past he’ll lose his present.

#fic rec #fic rec list #charlos #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #c2

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stanleypinesgf · 23 days ago

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Falling for Mystery - Chapter Nineteen

Falling for Mystery Masterlist Warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of: gambling, drinking and the trauma with the ex but it's not in depth, enjoy! Please note: this is a slow burn fic with eventual smut and mature themes, 18+ only and please check warnings at the start of chapters! i swear the second i post an apology for not writing, i get inspired to finish a chapter smh, oh well! TYSM for all the support so far!! w/c: 2,487 The last few nights had been a hazy blend of neon lights, full-bodied laughter, and the wild thrill of rolling dice. Vegas left us no better off, but not much worse either. It had been exactly what we’d wanted—a blur of spontaneity and freedom. But our relationship… well, somewhere between the casinos and the sunrises, we’d slipped into a rhythm as natural as breathing, like we’d been moving to this beat all along without realizing it. I was relishing this newfound feeling of security and warmth with Stan, and from what I could tell, he was too.

Now, as the glow of the city faded into the distance, Stan took us back out onto the open road. His grip on the steering wheel was firm and steady, a mix of confidence and pride that made me smile. In the El Diablo, he looked so at ease, like he was exactly where he was meant to be. I must’ve been watching him a beat too long, lost in thought, because he turned and shot me a curious look, one of his large hands giving my thigh a gentle squeeze.

“You okay in there?” he chuckled, a spark of concern flickering across his face, softening his usual bravado.

I grinned, feeling a warm glow in my chest. “Just admiring the view. It’s not half bad.”

A blush crept up from his neck, all the way to the tips of his ears, though he tried to shake it off, rolling his eyes with a bemused smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, but the faint pink lingered, making him look a bit softer in a way I had come to love.

The engine hummed in time with the miles ticking by, and for those first few hours, the drive was effortless. Stan’s stories flowed as easily as the road ahead, each one more exaggerated than the last. He gestured wildly with one hand as he talked, painting scenes so vivid they felt like memories we were living right then and there.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost got kicked out of a bar for winnin’ too many games of darts?” he asked, laughter dancing in his voice.

I shook my head, leaning in closer. “No, but I’m sure it’s a classic.”

“Oh, it was! I was on fire that night. Took down this guy who looked like he could crush a car with his bare hands. I swear, he was ready to throw me out, but I just smiled and said, ‘Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t handle the heat!’” He laughed, and I joined in, the sound filling the car like music.

We traded laughs, filling in gaps in each other’s retelling of the Vegas escapades, our best attempts at piecing together the blurry, half-remembered nights.

Noon slipped by in a flash, and we pulled over at a gas station in the middle of nowhere to grab a quick bite. Even under the harsh glow of the fluorescent lights, that dusty pit stop felt like an adventure. I picked out a bag of chips while Stan eyed the selection of sodas with the seriousness of a connoisseur.

“Caffeine or sugar?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why not both?” I grinned, tossing two cans of Pitt Cola into the basket.

Every small thing, from picking out snacks to catching each other’s eye over Styrofoam cups of coffee, had a quiet magic. We had this feeling that there was nowhere else in the world we’d rather be. It was new for us both, this effortless sense of belonging together, and I found myself cherishing it, wanting to hold onto every simple, beautiful moment.

As afternoon faded to late day, the sky stretched wide and open above us, painted with long strokes of orange and gold. The glow spilled into the car, catching in Stan’s hair and casting soft shadows across his face. He was quieter now, his stories trailing off as the caffeine from his coffee wore thin. I watched him try to stifle a yawn, his hand moving to cover it as though I wouldn’t notice.

“Getting tired, huh?” I teased, brushing a hand across his arm.

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Nah, I’m golden, sweetheart,” he said, but another yawn betrayed him as his eyelids drooped at the corners, making me laugh.

“Uh-huh.” I crossed my arms, watching him struggle to focus. “Why don’t you let me take over for a while? You’re gonna pass out if you keep this up.”

His eyes flicked over to me, his expression somewhere between amused and dubious. “This is the Stanmobile we’re talkin’ about here. I don’t just hand her over to anyone.” He chuckled, but it was half-hearted; even he couldn’t muster up his usual teasing grin.

“Stan,” I said softly, giving him an encouraging look, “I spent months practically living out of my car and navigating roads all over the country. I know how to handle a lot of things… including your baby here.”

He gave me a long look, the stubborn glint in his eye flickering as he weighed my words. “You sure about this? She’s got a few quirks,” he warned, clearly struggling between his protectiveness and his exhaustion.

I nodded, reaching over to give his arm a gentle squeeze. “Trust me. Just close your eyes for a while and get some rest. I’ll keep her steady.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, he finally sighed, giving in with a reluctant but affectionate smile. “Fine, but anythin’ crazy happens and I’m takin’ back those keys.”

“Deal,” I replied, grinning as he finally pulled over to the side of the road. With a tired sigh and a stretch, he climbed out and made his way around to my side. Though he looked a bit worn out, he still offered a hand to help me out, that familiar spark in his eyes softened by the weight of a long day.

Once I’d slid over into the driver’s seat, he leaned in, adjusting the seatbelt and giving me an approving nod, his eyelids heavy but still holding that mischievous glint. After he closed my door, he walked slowly back to the passenger side, sinking into the seat with a contented sigh. He gave me a lazy smile, crossing his arms as he settled in. “Alright, let’s see what you got,” he teased, his voice warm and easy as he closed his eyes, leaning back to relax.

As I settled in behind the wheel, a quiet thrill bloomed at the thought of being trusted with something this important to him. Adjusting the seat, I eased the car down the highway, feeling the low rumble of the engine beneath my hands. Beside me, Stan leaned his head back, arms crossed, stubbornly trying to stay alert, though his face already showed signs of fatigue. Not five minutes later, he succumbed, slipping into a deep, even sleep. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was interrupted by soft, unbothered snores, each one a little louder than the last.

For a long while, it was just me, the steady drone of the road, and the rumbling sounds of his snores as we cut across the vast, open stretch of highway. The warmth of this moment washed over me, surprising me with its ease and simplicity. Memories of the past flickered through my mind, moments I’d long since buried, but somehow the softness and the trust we shared brought them to the surface. It was almost startling to realize how far I’d come from those days when love had felt like something sharp-edged, guarded, conditional. I used to think that was how it was supposed to be; tight control, anxiety like a shadow I could never shake. I’d spent years keeping my guard up, never giving too much, always careful to stay a step back. Back then, I’d told myself it was easier to keep people at a distance, safer that way.

But here I was, not even a year into knowing Stan, and he was trusting me, not just with his prized car but with himself. Every mile we travelled, the gap between what I’d known and what I’d found grew wider. I glanced over at him, his face softened in sleep, a faint smile still lingering on his lips even in slumber. He wasn’t trying to be anything but himself, and somehow, for the first time, I felt like I could do the same.

After a while, Stan stirred beside me, blinking awake with a lopsided, groggy smile. He glanced over, his voice thick with sleep as he asked, “How’s my girl holdin’ up?”

I shot him a quick grin. “The car’s running like a dream. Smooth as ever.”

Stan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Meant you, Sunshine. But glad to hear she’s doin’ alright too,” he said, laughing quietly. He rubbed his eyes and looked me over, the concern in his gaze unmistakable. “You okay to keep goin’ a little longer?”

I nodded, warmth spreading through me at the casual way he asked, as if watching out for me was second nature by now. “Didn’t think you’d be so protective while I’m behind the wheel,” I teased, a playful smile dancing on my lips.

“Protective’s just part of the package, sweetheart,” he replied, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “But wake me if you need a break, alright?” His eyes softened as he settled back into the seat, a hint of mischief still lingering even in his drowsiness.

“Well, if we keep driving straight through, we can skip the motel and get back to the Shack quicker.” The thought of returning to our cozy little space felt like a warm hug, and I cherished how naturally I could think of our shared life as home.

Stan’s expression brightened a bit at my words. “That sounds like a plan. I’d rather be back in our own bed than stuck in some dusty motel any day.” He shifted slightly, nestling into the seat with a contented sigh. “If you need me, just wake me, okay?”

“Will do,” I whispered, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched him drift off. Butterflies fluttered and warmth spread through me as he casually referred to his bed as “ours,” reinforcing the sense of belonging blossoming between us. The quiet trust we shared was quickly becoming my safe space, and I savoured each moment of this deepening bond.

It struck me, almost painfully, how wrong I’d been about what I thought I deserved. I’d spent years bracing myself for the worst, anticipating moments that would make me flinch or retreat. But here, there was only quiet warmth and an unwavering sense of trust. Stan had slipped past all the walls I’d built, and with him, it felt like my journey was coming full circle.

In a way, I’d set out on the road months ago thinking I was searching for a place to belong, somewhere I might finally call home. But as I glanced over at Stan, his relaxed face softly illuminated by the fading afternoon light, I realised I’d finally found it. We weren’t just heading back to a small town; I was on my way to the kind of home I’d never known was possible, one I wanted to hold onto forever.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow through the windshield, I found myself humming softly to the radio. The familiar tunes wrapped around us like a warm blanket, and I felt a sense of peace settle in my chest. I stole another glance at Stan, his lips curled in a contented smile even in sleep.

“Hey, Stan,” I whispered, nudging him gently. “Wake up and watch the sunset with me.”

He stirred, blinking slowly as he adjusted to the light. “What’d I miss?” he mumbled, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

“The best view in the world,” I replied, tilting my head toward the horizon.

His eyes sparkled with recognition, and he leaned closer to the window, taking in the vibrant colours painting the sky. “Now that’s a sight worth wakin’ up for,” he said, turning to me, the soft light catching the warmth in his gaze.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling a swell of happiness. “It really is.” Stan's expression shifted as he took in the scene, and he suddenly sat up straighter. “Wanna pull over and watch it properly?”

“Good idea,” I replied, my heart racing with excitement.

Without thinking twice, I pulled over to the side of the road, the engine humming softly as I shifted into park. The sun hung low, casting golden rays that danced across the landscape. As I opened the door, he was already out and walking around to my side, a playful glint in his eye. “C’mere gorgeous,” he said, a hint of sleep lingering in his voice. With a gentle lift, he scooped me up effortlessly, placing me on the hood of the car, crossing to the other side and climbing up next to me. He settled down, our shoulders brushing as we leaned back to take in the view. The sky shifted from orange to deep purple, streaked with hints of pink that seemed to mirror the fluttering in my chest.

“It’s perfect,” I breathed, glancing sideways at him. He was gazing at the horizon, a contented smile on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart swelling with the moment.

“Not half as perfect as you,” he said, turning to me with a teasing grin. The sincerity in his voice sent a warm shiver down my spine.

Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his hand brushing against mine, fingers intertwining. The world around us faded, and suddenly it felt like it was just the two of us, suspended in time. My breath caught as he tilted his head, closing the distance between us in a heartbeat.

His lips met mine softly, a gentle exploration that deepened as I leaned into him, melting against the warmth of his embrace. It was a kiss filled with the promise of everything we were building together, a testament to the journey we’d embarked on. The sunset bathed us in a golden glow, wrapping us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath me. “I could get used to this,” I murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon.

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice low and sincere. “As long as it’s with you.”

We sat there for a while, the cool evening air settling around us as stars began to twinkle in the deepening sky. It felt like home, like we were exactly where we were meant to be—together, facing whatever lay ahead.

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#stanley pines #stan pines #stan pines fluff #gravity falls #stan pines x reader #reader insert #eventual romance #eventual smut #slow burn #first fic pls be nice

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rebelspykatie · 1 year ago

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Soulmate AU Part Five - The Final Part

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Alternate Ending

There’s a display of dnd handbooks and supplemental materials right beside it. Beyond that, Eddie spots a fantasy section overflowing with worn paperbacks that he can’t wait to sort through.

Steve follows Eddie around, pointing out all the things Dustin loves, listening to Eddie ramble on with a fond, soft look on his face, and carrying everything Eddie has expressed an interest in around the store, including a brand new set of black and red dice. He never looks bored or disinterested, just patiently sits beside Eddie as he goes through stacks of paperbacks, nodding along to his stories and flipping through a magazine he found.

When they get to the counter, Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to whip out his wallet and pay for everything Eddie has so much as even touched, but he’s brushed aside and knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He’s not going to let Steve pay for things all the time, but it’s a nice surprise that he’s willing to shell out for all of Eddie’s nerdy little treasures.

When they climb back in the car, Eddie mutters, “Thanks, Steve. This is the best date I’ve ever been on.” It’s the only date he’s ever been on, though, so perhaps the sentiment doesn’t count.

“It’s not over, yet.” Steve’s smirk is mischievous as he backs out and gets back on the highway.

They end up at a tavern a few miles away. It looks like a cottage from the outside, but inside, the staff are all dressed in medieval themed attire, lots of tunics, capes, and leather straps. It’s not quite accurate, but it’s probably the best they could do on a small town restaurant budget. The patrons are a younger crowd, which leads Eddie to believe this is typically a family spot intended for kids. It reminds him of Wayne doing his best to play dress up with Eddie for his birthday as a kid, just trying to make Eddie happy despite not understanding any of it.

A warmth that’s starting to feel like home is resonating in his chest, wrapping around his heart like a hug, a tether to the boy beside him. Steve endeared himself to Eddie with one perfectly planned date, crafting the entire evening around Eddie’s interests. It loosens the last thread of doubt he had about Steve. He’s doing everything in his power to prove that the universe didn’t get it wrong.

The conversation flows easily, the two of them getting to know each other beyond surface level rumors they picked up in the hallways of Hawkins High. Eddie learns more about the rocky relationship between Steve’s parents and how that affects the way he views the soulmate bond. Steve gets a detailed reenactment of a recent campaign, tugging on Eddie’s shirt sleeve to prevent him from climbing on the table. Eddie learns more about the hoard of children Steve babysits and how awkward it still is seeing Nancy every time he drops off Mike.

At some point, they spot a table with supplies for kids, coloring sheets and paper crowns. Eddie grabs a crown and places it gently on top of Steve’s hair. He makes a cheeky joke about King Steve, making sure Steve knows he’s joking. They have a foam sword fight in the play area while they wait for their dessert, chasing each other around until Steve’s crown is crooked and they’re laughing so hard their sides hurt.

It’s the most fun Eddie’s had in a long time.

When they get back in the car, there’s a quiet calm that settles around them. Eddie ends up dozing off along the way, jerking awake when Steve shakes his shoulder after he turns the car off outside of the trailer.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Eddie says, “This was perfect, Steve. I know the universe magically knows that we’re made for each other, but I think this is the first time I really believe it.”

Steve grabs Eddie’s arm, fingers running over where the band is resting, covering up the mark on his wrist. He doesn’t even know why he put it on earlier, maybe just habit, or maybe he was still waiting for Steve to change his mind. He glances up at Eddie’s face before returning his gaze to the band, undoing the clasp and letting it fall away from Eddie’s wrist.

Eddie wants to memorize the look on Steve’s face. The awestruck wonder that takes over when he sees his name for the first time. Fingers trace over the lettering, soft whispers along Eddie’s skin. It’s the first time anyone has seen it besides Wayne, who held him on the night of his eighteenth birthday as he cried himself to sleep and bought him the band the next day.

“I believe it, too,” Steve whispers. And Eddie doesn’t have time to think about anything else before Steve tugs on his arm to pull him closer and kisses him. It nearly knocks the wind out of him, a mixture of surprise and joy bubbling to the surface. It’s chaste, just a soft press of lips together, but Eddie has so much pent up energy he’s grinning against Steve’s mouth, practically vibrating out of his chair.

He wants to crawl over the console and press Steve into the seat until they devour each other, but Wayne is probably waiting up and will knock on the window and shine a light in like a cop or some shit if Eddie takes too long. Especially since he’s wary of Steve after the whole crying on Eddie’s birthday thing.

A first kiss seems like a great place to end the night anyway. He pulls back, resting his forehead against Steve’s, basking in the moment. “I’m going inside now, but next time, I’m planning the date, okay?”

“Deal. Thank you for the flowers. I feel pretty enlightened after this, so I think your mom was right about them.”

“My mama would have loved to meet you.” Steve squeezes his hand. “This is as close as we’ll get, but I think she would have approved of you.”

“You think so?”

Eddie nods. “She approved of anything that made me happy.” He kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, then climbs out of the car. “Now let me go grab your flowers and I’ll be right back.”

He brings them back and kisses Steve one last time through the open window of his car. “Get home safe, sweetheart.”

He waves a final goodbye as Steve pulls away, that giddy feeling resurfacing. He can’t predict the future, but he knows that the feeling he has right now, knowing that Steve is on the same page, is the best feeling in the world.

💜💜💜

Thank you all so much for reading this!!! I hope you like this ending and get some joy out of this because I had so much fun writing it. I’ll be posting the whole thing to AO3 this weekend once I clean it up.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #katie writes

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 2 years ago

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Hai I heard you were open for some smutty Carmen requests and I was hoping if you can do some jealousy smut for dear old Bear? It can be from whatever situation!!

Bless 🙏✨

Summary: Carmen is set to apologise to you for spending so much time at the restaurant lately.

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto × fem!Reader

Content Warning: Smut With A Side Dish Of Plot (18+!), A Tiny Bit Angsty At The Beginning, Swearing, Oral (F Receiving), Explicit Sexual Language, A Tiny Bit Of Hair Pulling

Word Count: ~2k

A/N: Wake up, bestie! Your fic request just dropped! 🌸💕 I really hope you like it!

Hot steam rose from the pot right in front of you on the stove. The scent of slightly roasted carrots, celery and onions was spreading all throughout the kitchen while you found yourself busy cutting up a good amount of tomatoes into cubes. Their water content was meant to deglaze that very tasty layer of flavours currently stuck to the bottom of the pot.

With your treasured record player joyfully running it's needle over a Led Zeppelin vinyl for your comfort, you were so lost in your task at hand that you didn't notice the apartment door falling shut behind you.

" 'M home, babe!" It pulled you out of your thoughts.

"Finally, eh?" You reciprocated, trying to sound as cool about that as you possibly could.

On the inside, though, you didn't feel cool about it all. It's been a reoccurring theme for the past weeks that Carmy came home to you late... very late. Most of the time you had eaten already and just went to bed tired and somewhat worried.

"Yeah, today was rather rough.", You heard Carmen say, "Still, Sydney was all in! She pushed through like she's been there from day one! It's kinda impressive."

With that, you felt your teeth clenching. In a subconscious movement, your fingers wrapped themselves tightly around the masterfully crafted wooden handle of the knife, that was surely on the more pricy side, exceptionally sharp. Your knuckles turned white and your nails were about to leave marks while you tried to tell yourself that it was nothing over and over again. Sydney was simply a very good and competent cook, from what you heard most likely the only competent co-chef at the restaurant and absolutely nothing more. Nonetheless, you couldn't help yourself this time.

Hearing that name yet again posed to be the final straw that broke the camels back for good.

"Fucking Sydney, huh?" You muttered under your breath as you felt the inevitable avalanche of emotions breaking free.

Behind you Carmy halted for a moment.

"You okay?" He asked in a soft voice that only infuriated you even more.

In the way your lower lip started quivering and with searing hot tears already pooling at the waterline of your eyes, you knew that you couldn't stop this from happening anymore. With the last bit of proper reasoning inside of you, you let the knife go for it to rest on the cutting board next to the puddle of diced up tomatoes.

"For weeks..", In a helpless motion your head dropped to your chest "For weeks you come home in the dead of night, we barely see each other....barely really talk anymore and then the only thing I hear over and over again is Sydney here, Sydney there."

Inhaling a deep breath, you tried to steady yourself but it wasn't to any use anymore really. By now the dreaded tears were rolling down your cheeks in thick streams.

"Now take a wild fucking guess how okay I am, Carmen!' It spilled from your lips in a choked back sob. It sounded way too condescending and you felt sorry instantly.

"Fuck...shit.. 'm sorry." You felt like flipping the damn cutting board but that wouldn't help the situation at all now, would it?

"Are you...jealous?" Carmy's voice sounded absolutely dumbfounded and it nearly made you laugh in hysterical disbelief.

Did it really go over his head how the two of you had grown increasingly distant? Carmen busy with the shitshow of a restaurant while you clung to everything that kept you busy to shut down the gnawing voices inside your head that were spewing nothing but venom and your own insecurities at him.

"Sounds kinda like it, no?", You sniffled, wiping the tears with the back of your hand "What a load of fucking bullshit."

"No, no...I hear you.", In a few swift steps Carmy came up behind you. You were expecting him to hug you or something at least remotely close to that but instead his hand reached out from under your elbow to turn off the stove.

"I'm about to rip you a new one, Berzatto." It fell from your mouth in a soft laugh.

"Fuck, force of habit, sorry." He rested his chin on your shoulder and gently wrapped his arms around your waist.

"It's not a load a' bullshit.", The tip of his nose softly grazed over the crook of your neck, instantly giving you goosebumps "It's been a lot lately and I'm sorry."

Carmen's lips hardly touched your skin and yet they pulled all your attention towards them. He knew what he was doing and he was doing it fully and utterly on purpose.

"Carmen.."

"Huh?"

"It's kinda hard to stay mad at you when you're doing that." You couldn't help yourself but smile.

"Do you wanna stay mad at me? If it helps I could talk about how Richie-"

"Fucking Richard." You sighed in amusement and both of you laughed out a little.

"But seriously." ,Carmy's warm breath spread across your neck down to your collarbone "I'm really sorry. I know, I should've paid more attention but I'll make it up to you, promised."

Another warm breath followed until you felt his plush lips sink down onto your skin.

An entirely new wave of much stronger goosebumps erupted from that point, washing through your body like a tide. The sensation made you feel hot and cold at the same time and it threatened to hijack your brain already. It took but that simple kiss to your neck and sometimes you felt embarrassed by how weak you got for him, how empty he rendered the usually very loud chaos inside of your head like it was nothing.

"I should've said something." You stated, your hands leaning onto the counter as you felt Carmen pushing his entire body against yours from behind "I don't want to lash out on you like that, I need to-"

But he stopped you right there: "You need to stop thinking right now."

To underline his point, he pressed another kiss right beneath the first one. This time with more vigour, not leaving any room for mixed signals.

A sharp inhale from you followed as you noticed his fingers sneaking themselves underneath the loose fabric of your shirt. They gently caressed your waist and wandered down to your hips, taking a firm grip at them as you instinctively pressed your ass into his lap.

"What do you want me to do?", He whispered into your ear in a low voice inbetween carefully placed pecks to your neck "You want me to bend you over the counter? Or I could get on my knees for you if you want that."

Raggedy breaths hung in the air as you struggled to form a coherent thought let alone a whole sentence. You felt the blood rushing between your legs at the thought of any of it, your cunt pulsating around nothing.

"What can I get for you, chef?" Carmen chuckled softly before his teeth grapsed at your earlobe.

"Knees.." You forced it out of your mouth, feeling how your cheeks flushed with heat.

"Come again, chef?" Carmy asked in return, the wide grin in his face now audible because he knew how much it flustered you to have to speak it out loud.

"Knees, Carmy. Want you to go down on me." You tried to speak up as much as the situation let you.

"Heard, chef!" Carmy used the grip around your hips to push you to the side of the counter, away from the stove and turned you towards him.

His striking blue eyes met with yours the second he had you turned around and his fingers grabbed the curve of your ass the hoist you onto the counter. With a little gasp, you found yourself on top of the counter faster than you could really recognise.

"You're not even out of your jacket..." You noted as Carmen leaned in to press a longing kiss to your lips.

He tasted like cigarettes and coffee. The faint smell of his musky aftershave mixed with notes of frying oil, onions and sweat filled your nostrils and oddly enough you had found home in that concoction of scents.

"I don't care." He shrug his shoulders while his hands reluctantly let go of your ass only to get back to the waistband of your sweatpants.

As you rose from the counter ever so lightly, Carmen pulled it down in a smooth motion until the fabric was pooling around your ankles.

You repeated the same movement to shimmy out of your lace panties, discarding the clothes right onto the floor beneath you as Carmy pressed his statue between your legs, his broad hands cupping your thighs. He spoiled you with more deep kisses that threatened to knock the air from your lungs before he slowly dropped down to his knees.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his breath hitting against the inside of your thighs and the warmth of his skin made your stomach drop in excitement. Since he had been so excruciatingly busy with the restaurant, neither if you really gotten more from each other than an exhausted kiss goodnight or quick hugs in between door frames before the two of you were off to separate destinations again and it hit you in this moment just how much you missed feeling him close to you, having his undivided attention like that. Growing gradually more bitter about Carmen trying to save the restaurant was one thing and in hindsight you felt somewhat selfish about it but aside from that you'd felt lonely if not frustrated already.

Fortunately, those reemerging feelings got washed away as fast as they popped up inside your mind by Carmy who buried his face between your spread open legs, the tip of his tongue eagerly pushing between your slik-coated folds.

A surprised moan fell from your mouth as you let your head fall back and basked in the electrifying sensation. With the full width of his tongue, ever so careful as to not press to hard against your throbbing cunt, he caressed your clit in even strokes. The steady rhythm allowed you to join in, grinding yourself against his face to increase the intensity to your liking.

"Please don't stop..." You muttered into the steamy kitchen air as your fingers got lost in strands of Carmen's curly, dusty blonde hair.

A low groan of his emitted from between your legs as you pulled a handful of strands carefully, shoving his face impossibly close to you. Taking that as a hint, Carmen picked up the pace whilst his hands wrapped around your thighs, locking you right into place as you inevitably started squirming in his grip.

"Shit...fuck...!" It rolled over your tongue in raggedy breaths as you couldn’t help but surrender to the rising tension in your whole body.

Bordering between endless bliss and overstimulation, your muscles grew more tense with each precise lick parting your folds until you just couldn't take it any longer. In a crushing wave of white-hot pleasure, that set every nerve on fire, your orgasm rippled through your body. You wanted to wiggle out of his graps but Carmen's palms wrapped tightly around you thighs simply wouldn't let go of you until the very last contractions eased off and you were trying to catch your breath above him.

With his chin wet from your release, Carmy rose back up to face you, a satisfied grin tugging the corners of his mouth.

"Apology accepted?" The tip of his nose touched yours playfully and you could smell yourself all over him.

"Heard and accepted, chef."

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy smut #carmy x reader #carmy x fem!reader #the bear fx #the bear #carmen berzatto × fem!reader

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