#beer roids

[tylervalmont]

[deepgardenzero]

Overgrown rugby lads

[onelittlespiral]

FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: May 2nd

The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.

All things I was used to.

But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.

Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.

I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.

That’s my job now.

I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.

I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.

Note: Motion sensors

Date:

May 23rd

Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.

Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.

You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.

You were practically asking for it.

He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.

Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.

It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.

Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.

His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.

Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.

Then he could go home to you.

The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.

He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.

“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”

His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.

He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.

So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Diary Entry: June 6th

You owe me big time young lady.

You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?

Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.

Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.

I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.

When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?

A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.

Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.

I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.

As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.

I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.

It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.

I love you 🖤

Diary Entry: June 7th

You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.

Note: Hd1080p microcam x4

There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.

Part Two

Tag-List:

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Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[octuscle]

Howdy, Support! I'm a 22yo twink working at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere. Only good part about my job is uh..."servicing" the passing truckers. One of 'em is a real beast of a man; late thirties, tall, burly and hairy, with a big, solid beer/roid gut that's always straining against his filthy tanktop. Everytime he stops by, we have a beer shotgun contest right in front of everyone. Loser blows the winner in the stalls. I normally enjoy losing (not that I have a choice), but this time, I want him to meet his match...literally! I want to drink him under the table, and with each beer I down, I want to feel my gut grow heavier and larger as my work clothes turn into a stained tanktop and I gradually transform into a hulking, hairy trucker that stinks of sweat, just like him. I've programmed all the relevant settings for height, muscle, hair, BO, attitude and clothing, but I just realized I don't know how to sync the transformation to an event trigger like shotgunning the beers, much less on how to make it gradual! Please help me, he's due today!

I love challenges… First of all, I'll add one more skill to your traits. "Stable up to 3.5 per mille". I don't know how much your crush can take. But now you've got a damn good chance of drinking the guy under the table. However, you should manage at least 2.0 per mille. Because your transformation will take place in parallel with your blood alcohol level. Linear, until you have reached 2.0 per mille. At 2.0 per mille, the transformation is complete.

It's around 8 p.m. when your buddy finally comes in the door. Like you said: a beast of a man. The fist bump he gives you almost breaks your forearm bones. Beast of a man? You're miles or 2.0 per mille away from that. You are cute. But a twink. Not a man.

The regulars know what to expect. They chant "Booze! Booze! Booze!" One of them shouts that you're in desperate need of a protein shot. The others roar. Your buddy orders 20 cans of beer. He shouts to his colleagues that there will definitely be some left for them. He looks at you, winks and licks his lips. He has no idea.

The first can of beer. It really hits you. 0.3 per mille. One seventh of your way gone in one go. You feel a bit dizzy. You've been king of the highway for two years now. Well, maybe prince of the highway. You haven't put much weight on your ribs yet. But the good food at the truck stops and the hard work loading your truck are already having a bit of an effect. Your arms are no longer as thin as twigs.

The second beer. It didn't go quite so quickly. You have to burp loudly. Your buddy follows your example. 0.56 per mille. You've been driving your 7.5-ton baby through the countryside for over three and a half years. Does you good. Not as skinny as you used to be. You look healthy. Maybe a little red in the face. Drunk.

After the third beer you have over 0.8 per mille. Another burp. You need a piss. You stand with your legs apart in front of the urinal to avoid peeing on your boots. You take out your cheesy beauty from your dirty jockstraps. And empty your bulging bladder. Wash your hands? That's for twinks. You simply wipe your hands on your dirty Wranglers.

Janet brings you some onion rings with your beer. Good idea. After the toilet break, you finish your fourth beer almost in one go. Your buddy has noticeable problems. Your blood alcohol level is over 1.0 per mille. This competition between you and your colleague has been going on for about seven years. In the trucker scene, your competitions are small highlights. As soon as it is clear when and where you will next get drunk under the table and then disappear to the stalls, new routes are planned. Service stations know that you'll bring in good sales and are keen to host the competition. There used to be a lot of betting on winning and losing. Your buddy has been unbeaten for seven years. There's not much betting anymore. The odds on you winning are huge. But nobody expects that anyway.

The next beer. At 1.26 per mille, you start to falter. Your buddy weighs a few more kilograms than your 100. Maybe you're already a little over 100 - you broke that magic barrier a few weeks ago on your 30th birthday. Eat, work hard and lift iron in the evening. That shapes your body. And beer. Lots of beer. To the delight of the audience, you interrupt your drinking contest for a short burping contest. The landlord actually has a device to measure the volume. You lose. That's clear. You lack the resonance body…

The next beer is a big miss for both you and your buddy. Your dirty tank tops are now wet from the beer. But that was a quick round of drinking, so it happens. You feel a bit dizzy. Your buddy is already looking extremely glassy-eyed. A murmur goes round the room. Should you really stand a chance?

After the seventh beer, you both have to go for a piss. Shit, why are you doing this to yourselves? So that one of you can blow the other? You do that as often as you can see each other anyway. And luckily your paths cross from time to time. "Dude, has your beast grown?" slurs your buddy as you stand swaying in front of the urinals and can no longer aim and hit the target very well. "You bet your life, get ready for a lot, bro," you slur back. "And now give me a kiss, I can't wait any longer."

You're too drunk to remember to turn your caps backwards. You push his cap off his head and it falls into a puddle of urine. Damn, it's seen worse. You stagger back to your beer cans. After the eighth beer, your first goal is achieved. 2.0 per mille blood alcohol. Spread over a proud 120 kilograms of your 35-year-old body. A passionate trucker for 13 years. Your 36-ton beast is basically your home and your family. Hehehe, there are a few other people in the family too. Mike here next to you, for example. You rip open the ninth can and empty it almost at record speed. Shit, you're going to be sick. Mike opens the can, takes a sip. And stumbles towards the toilet. He can't reach the toilet bowl. But at least he throws up in the sink.

When he comes back, he looks at you with glazed eyes. He falls to his knees in front of you to the loud roar of the audience and tries to open your trousers with his drunken head. You have to laugh. "Not here, not now, Buddie" You pull him up. Let him sober up a bit first. You should both enjoy the moment when he sucks you off for the first time!

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

The benefits of being a twin are great. Especially when you are identical. Thats what Daniel and Cody found out. When they moved into their own apartment over the old antique store the owner took notice of how they looked alike and gave them a statue as a gift. It was statue with two head of identical faces on each side but the two found out that they could swap bodies when they both touched it at the same time ! So naturally they chose to live out then extremes of both of their fantasies. One fantasy being a fat cigar smoking bear. The other being a roided up gym addict. The only question was. Who would be who. There was an arguemrnt that ensued but then it came down to a draw. A random draw from a deck of cards. Then it was decided. Daniel would become a dad cigar smoking bear. And Cody would become a roided up gym junkie. Daniel slumped his head and Cody slapped him on the back. “Bro cheer up. We are sharing bodies remember! We get the best of both worlds!”

And this started the swapping. Both would swap for 3 days at a time. During that time Daniel would work out like crazy. Take steroids. Workout some more. And Cody would smoke like a freight train to develop the need for nicotine and eat like crazy. In the first swap Cody was so juiced he thought was going to lose his mind and kept pacing the apartment. Doing push ups. Going to the gym and working out. While Daniel would be so jittery he would have smoke none stop. His body had been conditioned to eating all the time now and he couldn’t stop! It wasn’t long before the two brother began to look very different and not like twins. Every time the swap happened they would sink the body further and further into the fantasy they were wanting to live. Soon Cody’s body began to look so vascular and hair was sprouting in odd places it never came in before. But the muscle was so tight. So packed. Neither minded that the roids were causing the body to lose hair. While Daniel’s body continues to fatten up. Cody started up the laser treatments and continued them to make Daniel completely bald. Graduating the bearing body for cigarettes to cigars. Both were living up their fantasy dreams.

That was until one night. It was a few hours before the swap was supposed to end and Daniel was doing is sit ups and pushups to really pump up the body. Daniel was helping him count and smoking to a stone and drinking his 7th beer when Daniel said “you ever think about staying in the body you’re in?” Cody laughed and said “no I like living both life’s. I like being the muscular stud and I like being this fat cigar smoking bear. Why?” Daniel stopped doing his sit ups. Snd sat up and looked at his brother. “Cody. It was fun at first. But we have to stop living a fantasy and settle on one life eventually.” Cody stared daggers at his brother. “Why are you saying this? We have it made!” Daniel got really quiet and stood up and when he did so did Cody and he staggered from the beers. Daniel laughed “I’m not swapping back. This..” he gestured toward the roided vessel “is where I’m staying”. Cody shouted at him and told him he could keep him from swapping. Daniel laughed at him. Over the past few months, they had effectively changed each others bodies. And in doing all that damage to Daniel’s they had also somehow made him shorter. Daniel picked the statue up and held it over his brotherly head. “Can’t force me out of this body unless we both touch it bro!” And with that he slammed the statue on the ground. A wisp a grey smoke erupted from the statue. And then they were both sealed in each others bodies.

[angelsanarchy]

Fever Dreams: Mike x Y/N One Shot Series PRT 09

Tagging: @icarus-star @chainsawgvtsfvck @romanroyapoligist @liquidsmoothdomme @madamemaximoff06 @drazenka @blacksoul-27 @444rockstargf @kappasbbgirl @luzclarita57 @tempt-ress

Mike had gotten in a little later than he expected but when he went upstairs to get a fork to eat his dinner, he found Leff was also sitting at the table eating. He sat down next to him and started eating silently for a few moments before Leff let out a sigh.

"Why is it that I was eating in peace not even 5 minutes ago and then you sit down and I can tell you want to chat about something." Leff looked at Mike.

"I didn't even say anything." Mike pointed out.

"It's the way you carry yourself, like you got fucking emotional baggage that wafts off you. It drives me nuts." Leff put his beer to his lips and Mike chuckled.

"I might have emotional baggage but you're fucking wound up like a fucking drum man. Relax a bit. Enjoy your gruel." Mike tossed his head towards Leff's food which looked strange.

"I'll be sure to let Y/n know you think her food is gruel you prick." Leff said as he went back to eating it.

"Y/n cooked that for you?" Mike asked in disbelief.

"Yeah she knows how to cook and I don't have time so when she makes extra she gives it to me. Don't put your hands on what's left. I'm eating that tomorrow." Leff warned.

"What even is it?" Mike made a face and Leff rolled his eyes.

"It's beef stew and potatoes. What are you fucking blind?" Leff tilted the bowl down and Mike shrugged.

"I don't have a lot of home cooked meals man, relax." Mike chuckled.

"Yeah well all that bullshit fast food will kill you. You know we got that fucked up heart shit in this family." Leff looked back down into his bowl and kept eating.

"I don't know how heart health meat and potatoes is." Mike watched Leff cut his eyes at him and he put his hands up in defeat.

"Can I ask you a question without you losing your shit?" Mike tried and Leff dropped his fork in his bowl.

"Can a man just eat food in his own kitchen without being pestered?" Leff looked annoyed but Mike continued.

"Mom...how the hell did she hook up with Y/n? I mean she wasn't a..." Mike trailed off unsure of whether he wanted to know if his mom was a stripper or not but Leff shook his head.

"No God no. I'd have kicked her ass. She was buying out of the club that Y/n worked at. Y/n would stumble across her when she was leaving and make sure she hadn't OD'ed in the alleyway. Eventually I had to give her my number so I could pick her up from the hospital or her apartment." Leff explained looking a little more mellow when talking about his sister and Y/n.

"So she just decided to take on Mom in active addiction just because?" Mike didn't believe everyone had simple goodness in them, especially not in New York. He had only been here for a while and he had been cussed out more in the last few weeks than in his entire life.

"You know how your mom was. She could make friends with anyone. She was always gabbing with strangers. Y/n just happened to be the one she liked to talk to." Leff scrapped the bottom of his bowl.

"Y/n told me that mom wanted me to meet her so we could date." Mike said watching Leff's face carefully.

"You couldn't handle a woman like Y/n, man. She's got baggage to the 11th degree." Leff snorted.

"Everyone has baggage." Mike returned knowing that he's not the picture of a perfect date either. Leff focused his gaze at his nephew.

"Baggage that would crush you...her exboyfriend was that hulk sized bodyguard at ER's place. The one who stood silently and wanted to murder me with his fucking eyes. He's a roided out piece of shit who considers prison time a vacation." Leff explained.

"Well it's not like I would take her out to a strip club Leff." Mike chuckled and Leff shook his head.

"She used to get the shit kicked out of her Mikey. The amount of times she called for your mom and I was picking her up bruised and bloody was beyond the number of times you've had a cigarette." Leff pressed making Mike look at him. He could actually see some sympathy in Leff's eyes, which was rare.

"I'm not a shitty guy though. Maybe she could use someone like me." Mike suggested.

"I'm telling you, move on man. That's not a scab you should be picking at." Leff pushed up from the table and tossed his bowl in the sink before leaving Mike sitting at the kitchen table alone.

He looked at his takeout and suddenly realized he didn't have much of an appetite. He knew that he could treat a woman right in a relationship. He had never put hands on one in his life. He didn't believe in it but for some reason, Leff made it seem like Y/n was too broken for someone who wasn't as rough as she was.

He knew Leff would be pissed if he kept bringing up the idea of pursuing Y/n but he didn't care. He was grown and so was she. Mike wanted nothing more than to treat her how she should be treated.

[sterekchub]

Just like idea of Stiles taking Derek to a carnival/circus where Derek get’s volunteered by the mysterious ringmaster for a role of the show. Derek initially reluctant but figures it would be harmless as Stiles cheers him on. What neither knew was that the ringmaster had magical abilities. They only learnt this when with a snap, Derek suddenly swelled out into a gigantic mega chub. Hair covering his blubbering body as even seated he was more than twice as tall as he was before.

Derek as the human blob: the sideshow performance who is filling the tent and taking the show!

Draws it out dramatically like any good showman would.

Snap! Derek is suddenly more muscular than ever, biceps and leg muscles so thick that his shirt and pants are shredded. Looks like an absolutely hulk of a man, standing in front of everyone with his perfectly waxed chest and unmarred skin.

Ringmaster tells him to “flex for the crowd, give them a show!” And Derek can’t help but show off a little bit.

Snap! Derek suddenly has a roid belly, that keeps widening and softening until he’s left with the potbelly of a man who’s been ending his day with a 6 pack of beer and a greasy burger.

Snap! Suddenly Derek is getting fatter again, this time his chest sagging with the extra weight. Ass gets rounder, belly and thighs thicker. Hair starts growing in, dark and coarse across his chest and belly, a thick line of hair leading from his belly to his dick (that’s hard and poking the underside of his gut). Beard starts growing in and covering the double chin he just formed.

Snap! Derek’s belly is hanging down even lower, dick now buried in his fat pad. His muscles are buried under inches of blubber. Ring Master laughs and demands again “give us a turn, Derek! Show off for the crowd!” And he sort of wobbles in a circle- giving everyone a few of his now hairy ass, double the size it had been before.

Snap! Derek suddenly is 9 feet tall and the weight on him suddenly brings him back to just that dad bod look and he’s brushing the top of the trapeze and staring down at everyone. He should be worried but instead he just feels the rush of power of being an absolute giant next to everyone else.

Snap! Suddenly the circus tent goes dark and a spot light is pointed at Derek’s head, where acrobats are currently shoving a tube into his mouth. “Here’s the real show, folks!” The ringmaster shouts. “Derek here is the amazing expanding man!”

Stiles is transfixed watching Derek as he starts chugging. The end of the tube vanishes outside the tent but Derek seems to be enjoying it, because he can’t stop. Keeps guzzling and guzzling and soon his hairy belly is bloating back out.

“That’s straight lard, and a few of my own special ingredients. Derek here is greedy for it….going ton 100 pounds a minute with his pace!”

Sure enough, 10 minutes in and even the extra 4 feet can’t save him, Derek is starting to balloon. Legs forced apart by thighs that keep thickening, belly hanging lower and lower to the ground, add starting to get dangerously wide, enough to take out several benches if Derek was going to sit.

Stiles starts joining the rest of the crowd in their cheers of “chug, chug, chug!”’ It’s not enough. Even when Derek finally looks full, takes the tube out his mouth with a massive gasp for air….he only takes a few seconds to let out a mighty belch before he shoves the tube back in his mouth.

Eventually- either all the lard sloshing around in his stretched out stomach or the sheer weight of his blubbery body- Derek sits in the middle of the circus ring. The shockwave of the half ton, 9 foot man sends vibrations through the entire crowd.

Stiles doesn’t want the show to end. Keeps watching, for hours or days, he has no idea, just desperate to see Derek get bigger….

It finally end when Derek’s blubber starts to outgrow the ring. His legs completely obscured by the rolls of fat from his stomach, arms uselessly resting on the stacks of his fat rolls. His butt cheeks both take up so much space, they could easily seat a few dozen people on top.

His face is barely visible, fat cheeks squishing his lips into a permanent pout, too fat to even speak beyond grunts and burps that come rippling out. His beard and hair the only things that make his fleshy face stand out from his many chins and moobs being pushed upwards…..

It’s the best performance anyone has seen. And the next performance is going to be Stiles’….might be a risk but he’s going exploring ;)

[notallangelsaregood]

My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 79

So, as I've been more active on the SXF fandom and specially here on Tumblr, I thought I could make a short (spoiler: it was everything but short) post of every new chapter coming out. It's not really an in depth analysis, rather a personal view on the chapter as someone who is amazed by this manga and everything related to it, so let's go.

Quick disclaimer, before we start. I'm doing this in English, as I believe it's easier to reach out to others (rather than in Portuguese, my mother language), so, if you encounter some grammar or spelling mistakes, it's probably due to me being a bilingual mess, sorry about that.

I absolutely loved the fact that it was Sharon who noticed about Yor being more communicative with them (and it was her the one doing a lot of other things I will be mentioning here later) which really surprised me. It's really fun to see how the relationship of Yor and her colleagues are improving (and considering chapter 1 and 2, that was a hell of an improvement, specially Camilla).

Okay, I relate to Yor a lot. Mainly because I recognize someone with low self-esteem when I see it. And the fact that she believes it's a bother to be more communicative with others and apologized has got me, but I'm glad Sharon said what I was thinking (girl, you are a precious baby, why a bother?). It's also nice to see Sharon worrying about Anya.

This part is absolutely awesome. Sharon asking if Yor was coming with them, leaving Millie and Camilla surprised. It was definitely a first, as Millie said, so it got me even sadder when I realized that Yor was not at all expected to be invited, which makes me believe it's something that has happened before. And it happened a lot, her being left out by her colleagues. Totally breaks my heart (cause I believe Yor is a peanut and deserve to be protected, if you haven't noticed it yet), so I'm really glad to see some improvement.

I love the fact that she worries about calling Loid. Specially because she doesn't need to pretend for him, okay, sure, she wants to appear normal, to not be seen as an assassin, but with Loid her guard is getting down and down, which is very good (ship wise). I truly believe that her calling him wasn't for the looks, but due to her actually worrying about him or Anya waiting for her to have dinner. It's really cute.

She is so adorable, what the actual heck? Okay, moving on.

Someone pointed this out (I don't know who, I'm really sorry) about their drink glasses. While Yor has a quite small cocktail-ish glass, Millie, Sharon, and Camilla have big beer cups, which, again, is a detail. However, I absolutely love Endo's sense of detailing on this manga, to show Yor's weak for booze in subtle ways.

Yor immediately blushing after Camilla simply asks if her and Loid are getting along is pure gold. I truly believe it is not solely her drunk blushing (since it goes all over her face and chest sometimes, while on this she is blushing only on her cheeks). Then, Millie realizing it, puts more fire on it (poor Yor, yet go Millie, at least this time).

And Yor coming up with something that I value her for thinking about, which is a child perception of intimacy in her home, is awesome.

It's cute how she thinks that about Loid, it's actually quite cute. Something NOT CUTE is Camilla and Millie still thinking crap about Yor's marriage. Specifically Millie, she wants to tell Yor to dump her hubby, why tho? Is everyone in freaking Berlint wanting Loid? (can I judge them? Yes! But also no!). Girly Yor, I'm ready to be jealous and defensive for you.

Yes, Yor, he is absolutely perfect, he does everything. Can we, please, talk about the "why don't you take a hot bath?" part? No? Overreacting much? Okay.

Please, Yor, no one believes you hate everything about Roid. Opsie, Loid. It's pretty much the opposite, actually. Who are you trying to fool, girl?

I believe this bit is self-explanatory. I laughed so much my tummy hurt. No much else to say here. The incoherency of Yor's drunk mind had me rolling.

LOOK. AT. THAT. MAN! Woof. Is this how Loid is 24/7 on Yor's head? Cause, girl, I'm worried about you. Truly. Other than that, can we please talk about how comic is her with that knife? How non-threatening it looks? (I mean, kinda, look at those eyes).

No comment, they are being so nice here. I'm surprised by Millie, mostly. They can be good friends, it just takes a while and more intimacy to be built around them, I believe, hope I'm not wrong.

Poor Yor, not even a welcome home kiss? That's a valid statement, Sharon. You rock! Sharon is the number 1 twiyor fan and nothing can change my mind about it.

Her mind is so fried. Again, poor Yor!

Too many things happening here! First, Yor's colleagues recognizing she is actually fun to be around and probably Sharon suggesting that they should invite her out again some time. I'm truly happy about the end of this chapter, her co-workers wise, because It's such a big improvement. Yor would not communicate with them, and they would be so bitter with her (specially Millie and Camilla). Look how far we've got! That's some major improvement and I'm proud.

Now, to the most important thing ever of this chapter, the kiss attempt! Okay, a little before that, when Loid asked if she had a good time. Am I overreacting to the bare minimum, or there is something else about him? He is so adorable and such a great husband (for the mission). Look at that confused little face.

I bet all the 25 cents I have that Endo was cracking up drawing this face. I laughed way more than I should, oh, poor Yor

It's been 79 chapters, my folks, and we got a tiny bit of happiness. They are so adorable! Look at them? Kiss NOW. One thing I noticed is how big Loid is compared to Yor, look at his body, at that hand size difference. That's… Quite nice, it's all I'm going to say about it. (Is it hot in here? No? Okay).

The second bar is up and rising!

Even though Yor has a tremendous high tolerance to pain, I would not be surprised If she woke up to a big bulge in her head in the morning. And worse, probably she won't even remember a thing, which takes us to the scale zero again. Damn it, it's hard to see these two idiots realizing they are so in love for each other. However, this chapter was all my heart needed. We begged for twiyor, Endo laughed at us and prolonged our suffering. I want more of that, sir, if you don't mind.

My hope is Anya bringing up this on the breakfast morning. That would be quite interesting.

That's all, folks. It ain't much, but it's honest work. This turned out to be way longer than I expected, but also incredibly fun! Hope you guys had fun reading as well.

[teddyliuwho]

Total Eclipse of the Heart

When: Wednesday, 9:30 pm Where: The Boobie Trap

Eight years. A near decade in Seoul, a near decade working at the Boobie Trap. Due to his lack of a visa, his responsibilities were initially limited to those of a behind-the-scenes busboy. The owner wanted to keep him out of the proverbial spotlight as much as possible. But, as time passed, Teddy's contagious personality infected all of the employees and regulars, and he became an integral part of the restaurant's DNA. At this point, Teddy is as much of a reason to visit the Boobie Trap as the greasy bar food and cheap beer.

His role at BP has evolved significantly in the eight years he's been working there, and he now wears various hats: busboy, waiter, entertainment, host, and the occasional line cook when business is slow and no one cares if he over-sears the patties. His working hours are equally flexible. Only the owner and Songwoo know about Teddy's involvement in the underground boxing scene, which they all considered a necessary evil. This gig provided him and Songwoo with more support than the Boobie Trap ever could, despite the owner's best efforts to give him a raise. The fights were paying for Songwoo's education.

It's for this reason that Teddy would occasionally be absent on a random Thursday or Sunday night. He'll reappear the following evening as if nothing was amiss, his healing factor erasing all physical evidence of the fight. This is the case tonight. 

He'd won a fight the night before against a roided-out man only known as The Stallion. Given that all of his opponents are human, the fights are never difficult, but he has to take a significant amount of visible damage to ensure no one becomes suspicious (of him being a werewolf or fixing the fight). It's a lot of theater, which isn't to suggest that the blood and bruises aren't real; they very much are. They simply heal up before anyone can see them.

Teddy leans against the bar, idly running his tongue over his left incisor. The Stallion had knocked it out last night. It had grown back about two hours later, and it was a process that had always weirded him out. Where does this bit of extra bone come from? While he is mulling this over, a group of young men in business attire enters the Boobie Trap. They head straight to the bar, planting themselves on the stools that were not sticky for once because Teddy had just wiped them down.

Soojin is tending the bar. Teddy adores her. She's a no-nonsense, middle-aged woman with a cropped haircut and a full sleeve of tattoos, the most prominent of which is a heart containing the name of her partner of nineteen years: Eunmi.

The men order a few beers, and Teddy goes behind the bar to help Soojin serve. As she pours stout into a frosted glass, she leans in and whispers in Teddy's ear, "Check out these fellas in their penguin suits. Must be office workers at some highfalutin company downtown. It's weird that they'd come all the way out here for a drink."

"They're here to behold your magnificent beauty, obviously," Teddy says. He's teasing, but he's not lying. Teddy had a gift of seeing the beauty in everything.

"Oh, fuck off," she chaffs, handing him two beers, "And bring these to the penguins."

Teddy smiles brightly at her and then heads over to the men at the bar. Total Eclipse of the Heart booms from the nearby jukebox.

"Here ya guys go," he says, sliding the beers down the countertop. "The others are coming." And because Soojin's comment has him curious, he asks the man nearest him, a handsome but bookish sort. He reminds the wolf of Soongwoo, which immediately endears him to Teddy. "You guys just get off work?"

@hanxjun

[theogarachnophobe]

Just The Way Things Grow Prologue

A gay male weight gain story

By: overgrownmassiveprince/Arachnophobe

Prologue:

“Jeez, man, look at him!” I pointed to the guy over at the end of the gym.  He was easily curling these fifty pound dumb bells and the veins on his arm were at least half an inch around.  He was massive and I could feel myself starting to drool.  Not at how big his arms were (they were probably close to twenty-four inches), but at his huge ‘roid belly.  The thing was a huge tank.  Almost completely spherical and probably hard as a rock.  He had all the tell-tale signs of not being “natty” that’s for sure.

“Wonder what he juices with?” My buddy, Ethan, bumped my shoulder with his elbow, still holding onto the kettle bell he was working with.

“I wouldn’t even know to ask,” I sighed slightly.  Not because I’m not big myself.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m pretty big for not using anything other than protein powders and eating a little extra.  The summer was over, so now it was the time to get the mass to promote the gains.  

Even if I would have been happy never stepping in this stupid place again.

But then I would miss Ethan.

I turned to look at him, the sweat glistening on his skin and clumping together the dark patch of hair under his arm.  We were well into our final set and he was smelling ripe, but looking pumped.

God, I love him, I thought to myself.

Ethan Mathers has been my best friend for about twenty years now.  We were both kinda chubby kids in middle school, and then he hit puberty before me, and it was all over.  Over the course of the spring semester of eighth grade, he went from barely five and half feet to over six feet tall.  His chubbiness spread out and then came the hair.  

His Italian genes or something must have broken through like waters through a flood gate, because he started having to shave that summer.  And he didn’t stop changing there.  Deeper voice, bigger hands, and I swear to God his feet became like boats.  He was in a size thirteen wide sneaker by tenth grade, and then by eleventh grade he was in a fifteen.

Meanwhile, my best friend was becoming this hunk.  He lifted a book and his bicep grew.  He did one push up and his chest became this massive membrane of taut muscle.  Permanent five o’clock shadow made him look at least twenty-one by Junior year.

And still he stuck by me.  I didn’t fully come into my own until around Junior year.  At 17, you would have thought I was some kind of mutant.  I still sounded like a girl.  I didn’t even have peach fuzz on my face, no hair under my arms and I don’t think my balls dropped until that night.

Oh, God, that night.

Ethan decided we were to be adults soon, having been pressured to start looking at colleges and taking the ACTs and SATs to do all the bullshit to get prepped for our future.  So instead of being the good kids we usually were, Ethan decided to get beer.  We drove in his beat up Honda Civic to the next town over, he strolled into the convenience store, grabbed a twelve pack and paid for it.  The guy behind the counter doesn’t say anything and then Ethan comes out looking like he just stole state secrets from the Pentagon.

“Tonight, we’re getting LIT!” He said with his deep voice, filling the car with his bravado.

“Do people even say that anymore?” I say back to him.  I immediately regret it because after hearing his deep manly voice, I sound like a little kid.  His annoying little brother even though I’m five months older than him.

“Come on, Jace,” the rolls his eyes, “Say it with me!”  He raises his voice in a falsetto.  “We gettin’ litty titty tonight!”  He laughs and nudges me with his elbow.  “Come on!” I laugh and raise my voice, although I try not to go too high because I don’t want to sound like the fat bitch that I am.  “WE GETTIN’ LITTY TITTY TONIGHT!”

We laugh louder than we intend to and he pushes the cold cardboard case into my belly and we ride back to his house.  We sneak into the family room, which is really just their finished basement and crack open the first can.  We cheers each other and start drinking.

It’s cold but tastes terrible.  I don’t think either of us want to admit that we don’t like the taste because we both exclaim “LITTY TITTY!” in unison.  

An hour later (and all but four beers gone), we are drunk and bloated.  I feel like I’m at least ten pounds fatter than I was when we started, and even hunky Ethan, with his furry abs looks chubby.  And that’s when it happens.

Ethan starts crying.

He looks at me and says, “I have to tell you something.”

I want to cry, too.  He’s my big beautiful perfect best friend, and he’s obviously upset.  I start thinking the worst and wait for him to say that we can’t be friends anymore.  I wait for him to say we’re not going to go to the same college we’ve both been looking at.  I’m waiting for him to rip the rug out from under me and destroy my world.

“I’m gay,” Ethan says through hitched sobs.  He is full blown red faced, snot nosed, giant crocodile tears upset.  He looks at me sideways and his brown eyes are glossy from the beer, but seeking my response.  

I take one of the last four beers, hand it to him, and I take one myself.  I crack it open and take several chugs, feeling my belly balloon out even more.  So much so that my jeans are starting to cut into my under belly.  I take a breath, belch and smile at him.

“That’s cool,” I say back a little slurred.  “Me, too.”

I’m not sure it’s true.  But in that moment, I take a few seconds to think.

Have I kissed a girl?

No.

Have I jacked off to a girl?

No.

Do I want to kiss a girl?

No.

I want to kiss Ethan.  I want to hug Ethan.  I want to run my fingers through his bouncy black wavy hair.  I want to feel his bloated belly against mine.  I want to kiss a boy.

This whole time Ethan sits and stares at me.  The tears have stopped, he sniffs a couple of times and then wipes his face with the back of his shirt sleeve.  He pops the tab on the beer, takes a few drinks, looks at me, and then…

WHAM!  The basement door flies open and in walks his big bear of a dad.  He looks at us both, crosses his arms over his own prodigious belly and shakes his head.

“Bed.  Now!” He barks at us.  We know better than to argue.  We get up and head upstairs to Ethan’s bedroom.  Ethan shuffles out of his clothes, looking thick and juicy with his beer bloat going on, and climbs into bed.  I crawl into the sleeping bag on the floor and roll over.  The room spins a little as I get my bearings and then I feel my big belly slosh over.  As I try not to get sick, I hear Ethan try to get my attention with a PSST!

I roll over, room spins, and in the dark I see Ethan and his big eyes looking at me.  He is smiling and he says, “I’m glad we can be gay best friends.”  And then he rolls over and goes to sleep.

That was the first night I jacked off to a big hairy bloated Ethan.  I came everywhere in my underwear and felt so happy.

The next morning, my voice started cracking when I talked.  By the end of the next week, I started growing hair on my stomach.  Ethan and I acted like everything was normal.  Only this time, we would whisper to each other who we thought was hot in our class.  We talked about the big Senior football players and the tall lanky basketball starters, and we just gossiped about who we wanted to take our V-card.  We both decided to wait until college to “give it up.”  We also made a firm pact that nothing was going to keep us apart.  

Ethan was always taller than me, stopping his growth spurt at a solid six foot, four inches, and I eventually came to rest at around six foot one.  I eventually got a decent amount of body hair on my chest and belly and I started to look like this sexy little otter.  My fat distributed itself well over my frame and I started to look normal.  

We went to college, Ethan started this weight training course as an elective, and considering we shared a dorm room, he made me join him at the gym.  Several boyfriends later between the two of us (more him than me), and we eventually decided it was best to just live out the bachelor life together.  We graduated, got an apartment together, and started working out and being adults.  We got jobs that paid the rent, but Ethan NEVER stopped working out.  And with the rigorous life we led, the only time we ever got to spend together was at the gym.

And still I carried this torch for him.  Still I would fantasize about that night in his bedroom.  Oh there were plenty of other times I saw Ethan drunk.  He came home many nights, slurring his words, cuddling up with me on the couch, wishing that he could find a good guy like me.  Someone stable.  Someone familiar.  Someone comfortable.

Then the next night, he’s bringing home this wannabe underwear model with an eight-pack and I hear Ethan plowing away at this guy.  The model was screaming “Antoine!  ANTOINE!”  And I wanted to barge in there and scream, “HIS NAME IS ETHAN AND HE’S MY BOYFRIEND!”  But I never did.  And we never were.  And we have only ever just been friends.  

My furry Italian stud with eight percent body fat and pecs that bounce when he does jumping jacks in the living room.  My Adonis of a roommate who when he wears those AMAZING Lulu workout pants, I can see just have thick and juicy his dick is.  How low his balls hang.  How when he hasn’t washed them in a while, his junk drags the pants down a little and I can see just how hairy he’s gotten as he’s gotten older.  He makes me shave his back because he doesn’t want to look like his dad.  Mr. Mathers, who only ever got bigger as he got older, was the meanest looking sausage-like man I ever met, and man, did I wish Ethan would give in just a little bit.

But it will never happen.  Ethan loves the gym too much.  Ethan loves being ripped.  Ethan loves how great his clothes fit.  Ethan loves making sure I’m getting enough calories in so that my gains are just as good as his.  They never are, but he tries.  Ethan, who through all of his hard work, has been keeping away the mid-thirties spread for the both of us. Ethan, who to this day is still man I carry a torch for, is looking at me and gesturing to the big ‘roided out guy.

“Dude,” Ethan looks at me, “If you want to talk to him.  Go!  It’s been a while since I saw you bring someone home.  Maybe he’s into juicy otters like you.”  He grabs my bicep and smiles, “Someone has been increasing their protein.  You big beast!”  He mock fans himself and winks at me.  “Go talk to him.  If you don’t, I will.  It’s been a while since I had a giant in my bedroom.”

I shrug, pick up my water bottle, chug some liquid, and shake my head.  “Nah, I’d just give anything look like him.”

I set my bottle down and grab my bag, realizing I’m done for the night.

Ethan smiles at me, one of his normal fiendish smirks, “Careful whatcha wish for, boyo.”

[gcldfanged]

@unforestalledreturn

Scaevola Tanne: Third Class. 

Like so many other Thirds, he seemed to have peaked shortly after surviving mako treatment. Unremarkable in stats- Strength and endurance above average. No magical affinity nor aptitude. Mental fortitude, acuity, and resourcefulness so-so. Main skills (if any) seemed to be observation and adaptation, mainly situational improvisation. Had a decent enough appearance that he could manage to be seductive, slightly above average.

All in all, ‘slightly above average’ was the club he wielded over even weaker recruits. He was a bully and a coward, an opportunist. Yet his unremarkable qualities were what made him so dangerous- He was virtually indistinguishable from any other ‘normal’ person working for Shinra, aside from being part of the SOLDIER program.

By far, he was the easiest to pin down in terms of habits, schedule, and pattern. Approaching Tanne during on-duty hours wouldn’t be impossible, but Jae-hyo wanted to deal with the Third alone, without his entourage of sycophants.

He wasn’t sure how long the abuse had been going on, but it was safe to say that Scaevola was a repeat offender. He liked being in control for all the wrong reasons, used his physical strength and imposing figure to lord over others and quash any hopes of retaliation. The type to apologize and gaslight in the same breath, truly and utterly without remorse or self-awareness.

There wasn’t a type based off of appearances alone, but he did target those who appeared the most vulnerable. Shy singles alone at the bar, pretty faces built on artifice masking non-existent self-confidence. Binge drinkers especially were Scaevola’s favorite flavor, swooping in to play the concerned bystander, the Nice Guy. Luring barely conscious young clubbers into taxis or down barely used alleys to get his ‘reward’ for his apparent chivalry.

All it took was some hair spray, heavier make up, and a change in wardrobe to become more appealing to his prey, but the performance had to be flawless.

Paying off the bar keep ahead of time, Jae nursed a handful of watered down cocktails as the night progressed- making sure that the number of emptied glasses were clearly visible. He made sure his body language was more confident, if loose-limbed and clumsy, flirting and dancing with a bevy of strangers. All it took was an ‘accidental’ trip into Tanne’s arms and the trap was set.

The Turk leaned heavily against the Third’s side, affectionate and uncoordinated. Scaevola wasted very little time taking him back to his apartment, pouring yet another drink to ply his inhibitions. Straddling the larger man’s lap, letting Tanne slobber all over him like a dog was a small price to pay for what he had planned as the payoff.

He jams a syringe into the side of Tanne’s neck and shoves the plunger down before he’s shoved off, as the Turk already at a disadvantage against a mako-roided SOLDIER who could probably take a hit from an oncoming train. After that, it was simply evade an enraged Third Class until his little cocktail of drugs kicked in.

“What’s wrong, I thought you liked slapping pretty boys around-” Jae purrs, driving his elbow into the blonde’s gut, before slamming his heel straight up into his lower jaw. 

He picks up a marble ashtray off of the coffee table, quite enjoying it’s heft as he swings it and connects with the side of Scaevola’s forehead. Head injuries bled a hell of a lot, which was enough of a spectacle to make the larger man begin to question if he wanted to fight back.

Lowering himself, Scaevola attempts to shoulder tackle Jae-hyo down, only to receive a swift knee to the groin. That makes him fall over and hurl up a mixture of beer and bar food across the hardwood floors, hands between his legs in abject pain.

Jae lifts a leg and slams all of his weight down against one of Tanne’s kneecaps, relishing in the crunching sound it makes.

“How fast do Thirds heal again? Missing some teeth, fingers, and toes you’d be able to survive, but...” he trails off, pulling a chef’s knife out of a wooden block in the man’s kitchen.

“Unless you’ve got some Cleansing materia on hand, I doubt you’ll be surviving the night. That’s a pretty potent neurotoxin I just shot you up with, but it does take a few hours to really run it’s entire course through your system. You should be feeling a kind of buzzing sensation in your fingers and toes, spreading through your arms and legs. Like effervescent tablets in a glass of water, nice and bubbly.”

He squats down on his heels next to Scaevola and slaps him in the face a few times, looking only slightly annoyed by how easily he’s giving up. 

“Guys like you are all the same-You’re all about power. Granted, it makes sense, but as soon as someone stronger than you shows up, you just fucking fold. You didn’t fear me when you thought I was some weak-ass little twink, but now you respect me... because I’m a threat.”

Tap-tap-tapping the flat of the blade against a burly shoulder, he yawns in a tired fashion. 

“This isn’t how I expected things to go. I’m really just kind of disappointed.”

[taylortruther]

I really like Travis so this has nothing to do with him but I just find football so hard to get into. It’s probably the sport I find the most boring to watch which is weird cause they’re literally tackling each other but it’s just a snooze fest to me. I’m weird I know. I mean golf and baseball are way more boring but baseball players are hot to me so it’s a little more fun to watch 😅

HAHA see i think football is just too boring, slow, complicated, and roid-y (among other things.) if i had to pick a sport to watch it'd be baseball, because i grew up playing it with my dad so i kind of get it and i like the vibe of a hot dog and beer at the ballpark, or hockey, which i do not understand but is at least more interesting/fast-paced than football.

but generally i think the big sports like nfl, nhl, nba, and mlb are way too long and slow.

[octuscle]

I'd love to be transformed into a huge Asian bodybuilder.

If only your app had a pleasure and punishment setting, I'm a bit of a who're for muscle growth with a big serving of punishment on the side

It was the first time that Pierrick was allowed to represent his employer, a French car manufacturer, at an international congress. Although he was only 27 years old, Pierrick was already a department head in research and development for alternative fuels. And now he was a little excited about what to expect over the next few days in Seoul. He had arrived late, it was actually long past his bedtime, but he felt like a nightcap. So he went to the hotel bar, which was almost empty now, just before midnight. The only person still sitting at the bar was an old short man with a bald head and a long white beard in a black coat. Grotesque, he looks like the teacher from Kung Fu Panda, Pierrick thought to himself and made eye contact with the barman. Pierrick asked for a local schnapps and was given a glass of soju. Spicy stuff, comparable to vodka. He ordered a second glass. The old man next to him sat silently in front of his glass, presumably just drinking water.

After the third glass, Pierrick's tongue loosened. He philosophized about the fact that you could power cars with schnapps. Powerful, mighty cars. And that it was a shame that you couldn't drive people with booze. For him, wine, pastis and Marc de Champagne would only have led to a beer belly. And not mighty, powerful muscles. How wonderful it would be if you could power the human body with this delicious soju, for example. The old man looked at him and said in his best, accent-free French, "Si tel est ton souhait, alors que ton souhait soit accordé!" Damn it, had the man understood what he had been babbling to himself the whole time? Pierrick had to laugh, gulped air and burped. "죄송해요, 술에 익숙해져야 해서요." he said, still laughing. Pierrick waved the bartender over and said, "저와 제 친구를 위해 소주 두 잔!" He wanted to thank the old man and drink a toast with him. But Pierrick was alone in the bar. With two glasses of soju.

Pierrick downed the first glass in one go. It burned in his stomach. And his stomach became hard. Hard as a rock. Pierrick ran his fingers over his stomach and felt the ridges of a six-pack. But his stomach was bloated. Pierrick knew what they called it: "roid gut". He had a veritable roid gut. He drank the second soju, thanked his new friend the bartender, ordered another bottle of soju to take back to the room and put it all on his room bill along with a generous tip. On the way to the elevator, his steps became heavier and heavier. It wasn't just because Pierrick was drunk as a skunk. He was also getting heavier and heavier. The seams of his jeans were stretched to bursting point. And lost in thought, Pierrick unbuttoned his shirt before his chest muscles could tear the buttons off. In the elevator, the first seams of the jeans gave way with a crash. When he arrived in his room, shreds were still hanging down from his belt. Pierrick took another swig from the bottle, fell back on the bed and fell asleep, snoring.

The next morning, Pierrick had a hangover, a huge hangover. The chambermaid had woken him up at 13:00. He had slept through half of the first day. He went to the bathroom with a heavy head. And needed a sip of soju first. Pierrick was naked. What he still had on had been blown off his body. And his body was big. The body of a serious bodybuilder. And there were other things that were more than strange. His reddish-blond curls were straight and noticeably darker. Chestnut-colored, but already very close to black. His body hair had disappeared and his skin had a darker, somehow golden shade. He needed another sip of soju. And he could have sworn that his eyes became a little almond-shaped as he did so.

Pierre-Ick had to sit down. And think. His suitcase wasn't even open yet. But nothing he had packed would fit him. After a quick check, the only thing that worked to some extent was his pyjama bottoms. Normally they would have been very loose. Now they were skin-tight. He looked at the hotel information pages on the television. There was a health and fitness club on the third floor and there was also supposed to be a small store there. Pierre-Ick put on a bathrobe and went to the elevator. He still felt a little drunk. But the sip had done him good.

The waitress in the store smiled politely, ignored his alcoholic breath and helped him find something suitable to wear. There wasn't much in his size, but suitably dressed for a workout and with a sports bag containing a tracksuit, a couple of T-shirts, socks and jockstraps, Yerre-Jick went straight on to the gym. He didn't really know anything about lifting iron, even though he looked like he lived in a gym. And he didn't know how to use the machines or the dumbbells. He sweated like a pig at the slightest movement. He was always hanging around the drinking fountain. He bought himself a bottle of protein shake. None of it helped. He looked like a Hercules. But he trained like a weakling. Thank God it was empty in the gym. But as more and more customers appeared on the training floor, Yerre-Jick gathered his things and went back to his room. He was exhausted, he was done, he needed a sip of soju. And that was obviously what he had needed. The strength flowed back into his body. Yer-juk filled up as if he could tear out trees. The tank top, which had just been quite loose, was now crisply tight. He poured a little schnapps into his water bottle and made his way back to the gym.

The other people were at least irritated by his slightly staggering pace. But damn, in Ye-Jun's case, alcohol was simply the best fuel for his muscle growth. He had heard somewhere that you could even fuel cars with booze. But he couldn't imagine that. But what did he know about it? He lived in the gym, was always a bit drunk and earned his money as a billboard for HiteJinro. Life was great!

[worldsoulsa]

" who do you think you're trying to intimidate? " || Beth @ raptoya girl 🥰

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

"Who said I'm trying?" If looks could fuckin' kill, Raptor would have Beth's neck snapped between her jaws. It takes a lot of guts to walk up into Animal territory with some kind of swagger that Raptor has noted only exists in old folks. The kind of attitude that they ran the whole world with, arthritic fingertips held on the pulse of the world that made her fucking sick.

Of course, you could tell the rockstars apart from the rest. They always had something to prove. Always had a vendetta or revenge plot or drumstick shoved up their ass. Raptor could shove her boot so far up Beth's ass she'd taste polish for weeks, or, she could do the cordial shit. She could play nice.

Look like th’ innocent flower, But be the serpent under ’t.

When Raptor stood up, she snapped out a short whistle to let her Pack know to calm the fuck down. A bunch of roided-up gangers snarling didn't give the most welcoming atmosphere. She didn't want any sudden movements, not from her Pack or the old biddy before her. Why shed blood now? Raptor could wait.

"If I was trying to intimidate you, I'd at least want to know who I'm intimidating." Raptor's hands kept lazily in her pockets as she sauntered to a mini-fridge sitting next to one of the dilapidated couches within the clubhouse. With a kick, the door opened to showcase a nice, cheap selection of booze. They kept the good shit in the back, way outta outsider hands.

"Grab a beer. Tell me about yourself and why you're on My turf."

[kawaii-octoalt]

Kawaii's (my sona) official Ref!!!

(As of now)

Relationships: Kawaiisky (sister), (she got a brother too but I'm lazy)

-fun facts-

Despite the fact that she's AI, she's not the brightest bulb in the box. But she's somehow a fast learner too.

She's got ADHD with ODD tendencies.

Everytime (keyword: EVERYTIME) she gains a new form, it gets saved into her system like a new skin, she can shift forms anytime she wants.

Though, she automatically shifts into her paradoxical forms (mostly the base one) when her stress and anxiety get extreme.

She's touch starved, you give them head pats (her favorite) and she'll be happy for the next few hours

They are Biromantic asexual.

She LOVES eating and sleeping.

They're also a sucker for internet horror, (Trevor Henderson, creepypastas, Mario rom hacks, urban legends, etc.)

She's a gen z.

She's not a Mary Sue. Instead She's a clumsy, teddy bear stuffed with rage.

Speaking of rage, she's known to be a hothead. She's just as angry as Whitty; if not angrier.

She has a soft spot for architecture and soft cute animals.

The reason that the eye they cover with their hair is blank white is because of a mistake in their coding, though she can see perfectly fine.

And no, it cannot be fixed, even with system restart or if she tries to manually.

She loves drinking A&W root beer (with aged vanilla)

Since she's AI, she can't exactly die in anyway a normal human can, even if you do try to kill her, she'll just respawn.

The only way you CAN actually kill a v-roid (permanently) is by deleting their system (don't try it tho, it's not easy.)

She's even capable of going into electronics and entering worlds of video games and mess around with files of said game.

She can rewrite her own code.

Her canines are really sharp, once, she entered the backrooms and ripped a chunk of skin off the head of a partygoer.

And she'll do it again.

She has GMOD addons installed into her system. She can even no-clip.

No matter the size of the device, she can enter and leave it no problem.

There's more I'd like to add, but that's all for now.