#'chubby/fat' is what i said but really anything above a lean build is fat to you people and will get them drawn as a grizzly bear when the

[vampmilf]

the day we can finally stop default associating chubby/fat men with bears will be the day the gates of heaven open up and we are released from these mortal flesh prisons bc we passed the test

[blubberchaser]

One Hundred Inches

Ben stood in front of the full length mirror, backing up a few steps to fit his whole body in the frame. After two years of steady weight gain, he barely recognised the fat man staring back at him. His eyes worked up and down, taking in his immense size. He breathed in and out pushing his gut out as far as it would go and admiring the curviture of his body.

Looking down he saw nothing beyond his own swollen fat chest and belly stretched far out more than a foot in front. Even his nipples were long gone from view, folded into the roll of blubber on the other side of fat boy tits. He reached down, gathering as much of his heavy overhanging blubber into his arms as he could and lifting it to expose his crotch to the mirror. He remembered when I first told him I wanted him too big to jerk himself off, how excited I was watching his manhood progressively shrink into his fat rolls. He tried to free one arm to reach down and see what was left but his overhanging belly spilled out of his remaining arm burying his crotch under a roll of blubber. He grunted, taking a deep breath and thinking about trying again but laziness and the warning signs of impending hunger were taking over. He turned slightly letting the middle fold of his fat torso, just over his love handles deepen and tracing the stretch marks with his fingers all the way up to his chest.

Ben pushed his tits together,  feeling the softness and his sensitive stretched out nipples. He grabbed a handful of the each of the sides and jiggled the fat, smiling to himself. Fuck I wish these were bigger he thought, envying the chest size and pure flabbiness of record breaking fat men he spent hours browsing online at. Tits were a major focus point of ours, he loved how much attention I gave them, squeezing his chest rolls through his shirt when we were out in public to get his attention, lifting his shirt while I embraced him knowing I would be deep in his chest in a fraction of a second my tongue in the fold between them and the top of his gut, sucking and biting on his nipples so he would squirm, making all his blubber shake and bounce between us and turning me like nothing else.

I stood leaning on the door frame of our bedroom, admiring my fat boy lost in himself, appreciating my work fattening him up and playing with his own blubber. I don’t want to waste my time telling you about me on his big day. Five foot seven, 255lbs somewhere about half of Ben’s weight, meaty, footballer player build with plenty of it in my thighs and ass, shaved head with a few days stubble. I had started out the lighter of the two of us but that lasted not even a month of our regular routine of drive through visits, morning donuts and late night binges, me rubbing his belly and massaging his chest as he ate.

I watched Ben knowing what was going through his mind, how into his own body he had become the last year. The rolls the folds, the softness, how he bounces and wobbled all over every time he moved now. But what really turned him on the most was just how much he had grown, the limitations imposed by his own size, how much space his new body took up and how far his huge belly stretched out far in front of him. That really penetrated deep into Ben’s mind, was what he found most enjoyable and what kept him piling on the lbs . We were both always exchanging glances and laughing to each other when he tried to waddle through spaces, bumping furniture with his fat ass that he would have cleared with inches to spare just a year ago or when he reached out, bending down to retrieve something, forgetting he was a fat boy now, his huge mass of belly fat freezing him midway and making him grunt and call for my help.

I watched him a few mins more as he enjoyed himself exploring his body, I had no doubt he was as heavily aroused by playing with himself as I was watching him. His cock however was completely hidden from view, deep under that enormous belly overhang and buried in pubic fat while mine tented prominently leaving a wet patch on the front of my gym shorts. Only the way he started at himself in the mirror smiling and staring intently gave it away. I waited maybe 10 seconds before I could stand it no longer and slipping through the half open door, I had to get my hands on my fat boy.

It was easy to sneak up on him from behind. His body blocked the whole mirror and he was distracted playing with himself. Slipping my arms around his lower back roll just above his ass I embraced my fat boy in a hug from behind, squeezed gently against the rolls of blubber and pushed the sides of his gut up, something I know he liked because it made him look fatter. Ben turned sideways, bringing my muscled frame into view alongside his own in the mirror.

“What the fuck have you done to me?!?” he grunted out in his heavy midwestern accent.

-“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“This!” He grunted again, picking up the furthest section of his gut in his chubby hands, a mass of blubber that he had put on in the last few months that hung lower the rest and letting it fall. “I’m fucking huge, have you seen me lately”

-“Yeah, I’ve noticed you put on a few lbs this week” I replied squeezing deeper and making all his rolls of fat wobble and bounce off each other.

“Will you stop enjoying yourself for a minute measure me?”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it...” I laughed back

-“Okay don’t then, just stay there all day, letting me go hungry” he answered back, his eyes returning to our reflection in the mirror. Ben rolled his shoulders back and letting out something between a grunt and a growl, he leaned  forward, pushing his mammoth gut out as far as it would go and spreading his ass cheeks. Pretending to stretch he leaned back trapping the wet patch of my gym shorts between his beach ball sized ass cheeks. He lowered his voice and locked my eyes in the mirror.

-‘Please baby...I feel so much fatter”

“Alright, let me get the tape”

I pulled my hands slowly from under his gut and walked across the room, leaving him to admire himself a few moments more. I stepped over a pair of 6XL shorts with a jock strap tanged inside and to my beside table. It was covered in remnants of last nights fun. I screwed the lid back on a tube of lube and tucked it out of view.  I grabbed a series of wrappers, rolled them into a ball and went to stuff them in a three tub stack of Ben and Jerry’s.

-“Don’t waste that!” I heard Ben holler across the room.

“What?”

-“The last of that tub, Don’t waste it!”

I looked inside at a third of tub of congealed ice cream and chocolate, sloppy and sticky, I stirred the gross bit at the top into the molten chocolate and cream with a spare spoon.

“I thought you finished all last night?”

-“Nope bring it here”

Holding the sticky tub of ice cream remains in one hand I pulled open the drawer and dug around for the 120’ tape I kept handy. Grabbing it with one hand, I dumped the trash into the pile in our bedside trash can. “Come on!” I heard a grumpy, impatient Ben say from the other side of the room. I couldn’t tell if he wanted the ice cream or the tape more. He had gotten so fucking greedy recently. Anything I put in front of him disappeared within minutes. I regularly came home to an empty fridge and a pile of garbage on the counter.

I walked across the room and stood in front on him his gut pressed up to my flat stomach. Ben stared at me and then at the ice cream, visibly drooling and licking his lips, silently ordering me to feed it it to him.  I raised the sticky tub to his mouth as he tilted his head back, the fat mass under his chin moving to the roll at the back of his head where his neck used to be. The liquid mess sliding down the wax side of the tub and into his waiting mouth within a fraction of a second it was in his belly resting comfortably on top of a still half full belly from last night. he licked the rim of the tub, catching the last drips of melted ice cream. Tossing the tub aside, I returned to Bens body, examining the mass of blubber I knew every inch of. He was right, his gains had been out of control recently, visibly fatter almost everywhere.

“Okay, lets do this” I said looping the tape around his back. He smiled back at me, my happy growing fat boy, shifting himself so he could me wrap the tape around his girth. “Here hold this” I said, Ben dutifully responding by pinning the metal tab of the tape to his fat gut just next to his belly button with his chubby finger. He wasn’t the flabbiest of fat guys, but it still sank into his belly blubber a half inch. He was far too fat for me to reach round and grab the tape, so I walked round him securing the tape in the one gap between his copious rolls of fat just at his lower back. Stretching it round the other side, making sure it was over his biggest flab roll and didn’t slip between them. It sounds hard but after dozens of times in the last two years I had perfected the motion. I laughed a little and Ben knew why. Doing this always made me think back to when he was in the mid 200’s and it was a quick 10 second Sunday morning job. Reaching his belly button, my fingers fumbling over the deep hole in an ocean of blubber, my cock twinged and I took the other tab, ignoring the dirty thoughts in my mind.

“Relax” I said and he let his hands fall and rest on his side. “101.4”

-“No way, check again”

“ I’m telling you, it’s 101”

-“Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure, how many times have I done this, almost every week for two years, you baby... are 100 inches of pure blubber”

-“Here let me see” he tried to look down, shifting gaze down, expanding his belly girth and making the tape pop from my fingers’ I laughed

“You know better than that, don’t you trust me?”

-“Yes of course, I trust you, I knew it was coming, i just wanted to see it for my self, WOW... 100 fucking inches round, that’s fucking amazing, it’s really great, I never thought... Well I knew we were almost there but I still can’t believe it”

Ben looked so excited, like all his dreams had come true, he put his hands on me, pulling me in as close as a man with a 100’ gut can. I let me body sink into the flabby fat mountain that was a severely obese Ben. I reached my hands round as far as they would go leaving a 2 foot gap spread across his love handles and back. As I pulled him close his belly between us pushed his huge fat boy tits up into his face and kissed him. Silly fat boy, I could still taste chocolate ice cream on his tongue. Ben forced his thick greedy tongue into the back of my mouth with the same force that he used when demolished slices of cake and chewed donuts.

-“I love you”he panted through his usual heavy laboured breaths.

We seldom had heavy make out sessions standing, it was just too difficult to get around all the blubber in his belly, tits and neck rolls. He took the hint and waddled over to the bed his ass cheeks colliding into each other as he took each step. Collapsing on the bed his ocean of body fat wobbling, he shifted his massive weight and heaved his butt on to the protesting mattress. We we’re one of those noisy couples the downstairs neighbours, if we had any, would hate. As many extra slats and reinforcements I had added to the bed, even bolting it to the floor, we went through two mattresses in the last year and I couldn’t stop metal springs screaming under Ben’s weight as he shifted to get comfortable.

Using his lard buried muscles he shifted his body back an inch at time, breathing heavy and making every pound of blubber wobble and bounce until he found a comfortable spot. His body spread out coving an area about four feet wide. Ben’s tits rolled to the side almost touching the mattress beneath him and allowing him to rest his hands just above his gut, somewhere where his ribs would be if they weren’t buried deep. He hugged his own body and smiled in ecstasy, mediating on his own huge size, how he never felt sexier and one of his ultimate dreams finally being reality.

I climbed on top starting at his overhang worked my way upwards, tickling his side rolls with my tongue and making him squirm and wiggle, his stretch marked skin visibly struggling like swollen a fat filled ballon, more moisturiser needed on those spots during our nightly pre bed routine, I made a mental note. I settled for a moment on his three inch wide nipples, nuzzling my face into those fat filled manboobs. Some guys nipples remained the same as they grew, Ben’s had always stretched outwards, expanding to their current size as his chest swelled up with one of the most impressive sized pair of fat boy tits I had ever seen on a man. I didn’t know it that natural or from all our heavy nipple play, the hour or so I spent enjoying them as he dug into pints of ice cream every evening. He moaned hard and moaned harder again as I sucked on them, biting gently, he shifting his hips so his under belly rolls and swollen fat pad rubbed against his buried cock. Something I really preferred he didn’t do during our nightly feeding sessions as it quickly exerted him, wasting energy and precious calories, but had become irresistible to Ben as our session got hotter and heavier and he simply gotten too big for me to reach both his cock and chew his hyper sensitive nipples at once.

I really didn’t want Ben getting too worked up this early in the morning, so I moved swiftly upwards to his neck roll and second, (maybe third?) chin. I really couldn’t tell generally there was one thick roll of blubber circling what had been his neck that restricted him tilting his head too far forward or back, but when he lay down with a big happy grin plastered on his chubby face, or laughed as my tongue tickled his blubber rolls a third smaller one appeared and disappeared.

“You know...” I said resting my head on his chest. “It’s really just a number, it’s not like everything you gained until now is any different” Ben gave me his massively overfed puppy dog, why did you stop eyes. The same pleading look he always gave me since he had both grown well beyond pleasuring himself in any meaningful or satisfying way and become far too lazy to even try.

-“Yeah... it’s a big number”

“A fucking huge number, three digits” I teased back, playing with my fat boy, rolling the blubber from where it had pooled on the opposite side of his chest, so it resembled its usual fat self, with half of Ben’s nipple hidden and the tip rubbing off the edge of his under tit roll.

-“You know I don’t want to stop, I love everything about this” he panted, reaching down and grabbing his under belly roll with both hands, easier now gravity wasn’t fighting him, he hugged his massive roll of overhang close to his body.

“Don’t worry” I laughed, “it’s not going anywhere, and I’m incredibly proud of you. You’re my prize fat boy, huge and perfect in every way.”

-“Good, I worried you were going soft on me” he grunted back to his normal gruff self, releasing his overhang roll of blubber back to rest on to his thighs and slapping his belly, sending a ripple through the soft, doughy outer most layer of his immense fat belly. “I know you’re into this as much as I am, I see you staring at this thing, practically drooling”

“Yeah, me go soft on you, I spent all morning at the gym. Only one of us goes soft, in this house” I laughed sticking my finger into the deep hole in a sea of blubber that was once a belly button.

-“So are we going out to celebrate”

“Of course”

-“When?”

“Now, if you’re hungry???” Now it was his turn to laugh.

-“How many years now, 2-3? When have I ever not been hungry, this thing is constantly rumbling, I’ve been sitting here half the morning waiting for you to come back. I hope you picked up food.” The man could focus on only two things, his cock, his belly or in most cases both. For the record I had never neglected to walk through the front door without a hot, greasy bag of something fried, rolled in sugar and served in a family size container. Not once in two fucking years had I let the gas gauge in my truck or my my partner’s insatiable gut hit the half empty mark.

“There’s a tray of cinnamon rolls in the kitchen, with a cup of extra Jizz and one of those half and half blended coffees milkshakes you like” but don’t fill up. I want to go out to lunch.

-“Okay, sure. Just bring me two to snack on while I get ready.

I had Ben sitting on the edge of the bed, sucking calories from a cup of syrup and half and half the size of a bucket. Getting a guy his size ready to go was a time consuming task. Showering him down on a metal bench we had built specially and was capable of holding twice his weight was the most time consuming part. Mostly because he would spread his legs and let his belly hang down between them and I couldn’t help parking my stiff cock in his belly button now it was no longer confined to tight gym shorts. But we had gotten every inch of him scrubbed down and into the roomiest pair of grey sweat pants I could find in his drawer of clothes that looked too big and oversized to fit anyone else, but on Ben nestled not quite snuggly enough to show off all of my fat boys rolls to the extent I liked but enough so they stayed up without him having to keep tugging on the waistband as his rolls made their usual seemingly independent efforts to wobble and bounce out of the clothing covering a man that was clearly too fat to be wearing anything at all.

I always waited to help Ben dress before I put on my own clothing, he enjoyed a naked muscle bound chaser manhandling him into clothes, hugging his belly and squeezing his love handles as we went and I didn’t have to get my own T-shirt damp and sweaty as I helped him manoeuvre the rolls of flesh into clothing and  get him to his feet. “Hey what shirt do you want”  Ben pulled back hard on the straw taking a mouthful of cream into his bulging chubby cheeks as he considered his options.

-Whichever one you want” he splurged, catching a splodge of whipped cream with his tongue and pulling it back into his mouth. I grabbed a thin white T-shirt from the top of the pile and pulled the almost empty cup Ben was digging around for the last drips of cream in from his grasp. He grunted, unsatisfied with being denied the pool of sweet fattening goodness at the bottom of his cup.

“Come on we need to get moving”

-Alright, lay it on me” he said impatiently.

I gathered up the handfuls of the sheet sized cotton shirt into my fists, pulling it over his arm and head. I negotiated the shirt down over his chest, adjusting his fat tits as I went and pulling it to the bottom of his belly where it stretched even thinner. It looked too small, the fabric stretching as Ben breathed in and out, but I knew once we got him standing we would be good. I slipped on his socks and sneakers and held out my forearms for him to grab.

“Come on baby, time to go”

Ben rocked back and forth twice, although his ass, chest and thighs were all massive most of his weight resided firmly in his fat belly, when standing he looked almost spherical, an immense fat blob with a head and limbs. He was getting to the stage where even with my help he some momentum to get himself off the edge of the bed. Ben’s  feet hit the floorboards causing them creak and dip a fraction of an inch. I let go of his forearms, bracing myself as his weight pushed me backwards and I caught the side of his gut taking a few dozen pounds of weight off his leg muscles.

“You good baby?”

-“Yeah, I got this” he huffed. “All good”

“First step is the hardest” I replied, rocking his flab back and forth, letting his legs adjust to taking his body weight. Ben reached a standing position his gut still hanging down, he extended his legs, taking the full weight of his belly and returning it to its normal position outstretched far in front of him. I reached round the back of his sweat pants, pulling them up over his ass fat and adjusting the elastic waistband to fit between two of his back rolls, before I tucked the front firmly under his overhanging gut. I pulled down the cotton shirt over his gut, barely hiding it from view under the thin, stretched fabric. He wobbled from left to right letting it adjust to all his rolls and folds.

“God you’re an immense fat hog” I said out loud without thinking.

-“Yup” Ben smiled back, “I really am, aren’t I? Now get your own clothes on, I can’t fucking stand here sweating all day. This 100’ tank needs filling” He pushed me out of the way with his gut and huffing and puffing reached past me to grab the cup I had left on the table by the bed. Knocking the top off with his chubby fat fingers, he stared unblinking at the clump of cream and chocolate syrup like a bright shining prize at the bottom that almost escaped him. He brought it to his lips letting the mass of calories slide into his waiting fat face. He pulled it back rolling his tongue over his face to catch most of the rim of chocolate on chin roll and held it up examining it to make sure there was nothing left at the bottom. A small drip of chocolate syrup left on the rim of the plastic slowly fell, leaving a sticky tail between the cup and Bens clean white shirt. He shrugged and tossed it in the mounting pile of trash. I had my jeans and shirt on by then and was just wrestling with the last boot.

-“Okay” he grunted, turning his momentarily satisfied belly towards the door “let’s get out of here”

As Ben had proved serious about about meeting our goals  it had quickly become necessary to trade my old house down to a rambling ranch style one with wider hallways and a total of three steps, one in the garage and two on the front front porch. I also took out the old enclosed shower and retiled the bathroom, remodelling our home to better accommodate my baby’s growing body and more limited mobility had become a fun past time. He would park his ass in an extra wide recliner, his belly over the edge of the arm rests of the chair and watch football in the living room, a sport I had never gotten into, coming from outside the USA. Yelling at the big screen Tv through mouthfuls of nachos and fried chicken, or working his way from one end of a giant burrito bigger than my forearm from this place nearby he loved and washed down with plenty of beer he often watched two or three games in a row his fat chins bobbing up and down, his mouth working overtime on his supply of game day snacks as his piggy guys were fixed squarely on meaty football players asses and trim waistlines as they ran around the field. While he enjoyed his me time, I would work on our older style home, shirtless and with a tool belt slung over my hips I retiled the bathroom, expanded the door ways, added a few extra reinforcements to our bed.

Ben waddled through the living room passed his recliner, his mammoth ass cheeks looking like two jelly filled beach balls bouncing off each other other trying to knock him off balance, it was only the forward pull of the weight from his belly that kept his momentum going forward once the started waddling in any direction. He paused for a moment to catch his breath by the front door, leaning on the wall, waiting for me to open it. Walking out into the drive and the door of the truck the sun caught his forehead and eyes, and he started to get visibly uncomfortable almost immediately, beads of sweat rolled down his fat cheeks and multiple chins. Ben spent almost all his time in doors, enjoying comfortable air conditioning that was necessary for a guy his size. He hated being warm and grumbled lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off and exposing his round fat belly and even fatter man tits for anyone who happened to be walking down our street or in their front lawns. I swear he made them jiggle a little extra on purpose as he wiped his forehead, making a patch of his shirt even more see through. I had the engine running and the A/C on full blast in the truck waiting for him, he just needed my help to get in it. He manoeuvred his backside to the edge of the seat and, one foot on the extra heavy duty running board the auto shop and installed in my truck and a firm grasp on the side handle he pulled himself up six inches.

-“Unnnmmmpphhh... I can’t get up, help me”

“Yeah you can” I replied, wrapping my arms under the sweaty over hang of belly flab and taking some of the weight off his leg until he could the edge of his huge ass on to the leather seat and his second leg up. Grunting like an animal and using every ounce of strength he had he, with me taking a good few lbs of weight off by holding his belly, Ben edged his ass back two inches at a time until he was into the seat.

I kept the passenger seat permanently back as far and as low as it would go. Ben was as short as I was and had lost a few inches as he grew outwards and sideways. Even so the the 10 inch thick layer of blubber that cushioned his ass basically had the effect similar to sitting on a stack of phone books, lifting him up an extra half a foot and left him with a lone inch or two of head room. The leather seat did a good job of cushioning his back fat into a comfortable position and although there was no way in hell it could contain his love handles we had done a pretty long road trip last month without him needing to get out and stretch too often. Flying anywhere was out of the question for us. The problem was likely to be his belly which was almost at the edge of his knees when he spread apart his legs apart and was fast approaching the dashboard. I could see his shirt had ridden up exposing his belly button which was about 4 inches from the passenger side glove box, I had to have him hold his gut back to open the time I forgot it was unusable with Ben in the truck. Ben relaxed shifting his butt back and catching his breath, feeling the cool blow of the air conditioning on his sensitive nipples through a paper thin shirt that was already damp from wiping himself.

-“Let’s go, I’m hungry” he cheered now that he was comfortable, slapping his gut and making the whole thing wobble again.

“You got it bubba!” I replied back with the same enthusiasm, leaning over to plant one on my sweaty whale sized, mountain of fat husband to show I appreciated his efforts leaving the house. “You’re so fucking cute when we go out, you know that”

-“Am I?”

It was a short drive to the restaurant, me trying to keep my focus on the road and not get distracted by the “oomph” that came from the passenger seat every time I hit a dip in the road and Ben’s body responded accordingly his whole body wobbling and bouncing. When we got to the restaurant, I pulled the truck up right out front across a double wide handicapped space. Out was a lot easier than in and Ben didn’t even wait for me to get around to open the door, before scooting his ass to the edge and landing his round globular body out onto the sidewalk. My truck suspension moaned and returned to its upright position as my heavyweight passenger side cargo unloaded itself impatient for more food. The smell of frying grease from the kitchen out back hung in the air, making Ben take deep inhaling breaths. He began to drool slightly and without thinking ran his hand over his stomach, rubbing his belly hungrily like he was warming it up, getting it ready to accept an in human quantity of fattening food and really make a pig of himself.

Ben waddled inside pushing the wooden doors open with his gut, making one slam loudly against the door stop. I always let him enter first, the man was a sight to behold. Huge out stretched gut, the top firm and doughy, the overhanging bottom a soft blubbery roll of jello that never stopped moving and refused to stay covered by any shirt we could buy. An impressive set of tits, bigger than any women’s implants but unmistakably pure natural lard, rolling over the top of his gut and continuing all the way round to his upper back. I liked to watch people react, it was a family place. Women always looked grossed out, sometimes sympathetic, shaking their heads often dropping their forks or pushing their own food away. Men starred, mostly impressed that a guy that big could move so swiftly. Ben barged his away across the room without noticing any stares. I told you... two track mind, his belly, cock or both. Once Ben started moving he didn’t stop until he got where he wanted to be. The effort showed on him, breathing heavy, grunting as he moved. Seldom bothering to excuse himself, he grunted it inaudibly out between laboured breaths the time his enormous ass bumped a table and knocked a glass of water to the floor. Resembling something between a half waddling, half lumbering lardass he hauled his body across the room, making floorboard creak and any remaining patrons give up pretending not to look. His body wanted him to take breaks, but his mind was determined to get his ass in a chair and he relied on momentum to keep him going once he stared. It was a lot easier to just keep going than to get him moving again once he stopped to lean on a wall and catch his breath.

We grabbed a table in the far corner where we could make camp for a few hours undisturbed. Ben pushed two chairs together and slid his ass between them and the table. A hundred lbs of Ben ass forced the chairs back a couple of inches as he lowered his bulk down, the legs scraping and leaving marks on the wooden floor. His extended belly prevented him from getting too close to the table. At home Ben preferred to balance a plate on his belly, using his gut and a table and shortening the distance between the plate and his mouth considerably. When we were out he behaved him self a little more leaning forward to shovel big mouth fulls into his waiting mouth.

I took a seat across the table and admired my fat boy. Sitting there looking huge and sexy, catching his breath, rubbing his gut. They always gave us the same waitress, I tipped her $100 cash upfront and ordered us drinks, a half gallon of Rootbeer for Ben, iced water for me. Ben picked up the tankard and chugged it down and in a matter of seconds she was back with a second.

“Are you doing okay over there bubba?”

-“Yeah, just winded” he huffed, wiping sweat with his napkin. I wanted him to do it with his shirt again so I could admire his belly some more. “Where’s the food?”

“Coming” I laughed, reaching over rubbing my hand down his gut and slowly towards his crotch.

The waitress returned with a plate of piled high with fried appetisers, a board of pizza slices, a tray of chicken and beef skewers each of them family sized. Along with a pint of ranch dressing.  It was easier to order one side of the menu than to slow ourselves down ordering specifics. She put a large milkshake with whip cream on the top in front of Ben. He liked to alternate between sweet and salty so he could eat longer without his taste buds getting bored.

Ben leaned forward grabbing a slice of pizza, wrapping it round a fried cheese stick and dunking it in the ranch dressing it up, scooping it along the bowl to give it a heavy coating. He lifted the greasy, dripping morsel to his mouth, opened wide and deposited inside, following it quickly with a second. His cheeks full, he groaned deeply and sexually, enjoying his food.

Ben worked at pace through the first three platters, mixing up the food to his taste, experimenting with the salty and greasy flavours. Lubricating the dry, breaded, fried goodness with a second and a third bowl of ranch dressing so it slid down into his throat into his insatiable cavernous gut. He interspaced the appetisers with blasts of cold frosted milkshake, leaning back and letting his gut spread out, settle and taking long laboured slugs, filling his cheeks with thick cream milkshake and swallowing it on top of the mouthfuls of junk food. It usually took him about an hour of steady eating before he slowed down. He kept piling greasy fattening appetisers on top of large mouth fulls of milkshake until his gut began to resist the constant onslaught of fat and sugar he was forcefully shovelling down his throat. It was air conditioned but beads of sweat were rolling down Ben’s forehead from the exertion of eating.

-“I gotta do it man... I have to... I can’t stop” he grunted out between breaths. Wiping his sweat away.

“Do what?” I smiled back.

-“Get bigger, get fatter. You have no idea how good this feels. it’s everything I ever wanted” he lifted the furthest flabbiest roll of blubber on the edge of his out stretched belly that seemed to be trying to separate itself from the rest of his body and let it flop down on top of his thick thighs, taking a moment to settle and stop wobbling.

Ben reached forward gathering up all the spare cubes on meat and scraps of breading  that remained from a spread big enough to satisfy a half dozen people into a pile on the plate in front of him and smashing it into one lump with his first. He picked it up what remained and deposited it into mouth, rolling it round to lubricate it with drool and swallowed hard.

-“Unnnnnufff... I love... so good, so huge and fat... want more” he mumbled his eyes closed. it was more than I could take. I swapped chairs so I was by his side. The edge of his belly roll pressed up against my thigh. I lifted the edge of the outermost flab roll of his belly up and let it rest on the side of my lap so I could get closer. I reached my hand across and began to rub the top of his gut, right at the swollen, tight part where his stomach was buried. My mind wandered back to the first time we had done this, same table, a third of the food, a much skinnier, unrecognisable Ben.

-“Thanks baby... that feels good”

“Don’t mention it, you able to handle desert?”

“Of course, just give me a couple of minutes to rest”

Ben’s physiology had adapted to his massive binging sessions, he was still the same country boy that could eat and be hungry thirty minutes later, just with a bigger stomach and a fuck ton more food. I handed him his refilled tankard of iced rootbeer, knowing it would cleanse his palate and help dinner settle in his belly. Eyes still closed, I helped him guide it to his lips and loosing the last of his politeness he chugged the icy cold soda down, letting drips spill out of the corner of his mouth and down his chins. I reached up swiftly with a napkin catching the drips.

-“Uhhh thanks... I totally needed that... this stuff is heavy” he nodded at a table covered in empty plates, three empty stacked bowls of ranch, milkshake glasses sucked dry with a cherry stem stuck too the side, I ate the cherries, Ben didn’t like them. I kept rubbing the top of his gut, letting him begin digesting thousands of calories.

-“Uhhhhhh... good” he moaned” leaning back far and starting to do his favourite trick again, pushing his hips forward slightly so his under belly roll rubbed off his cock and he was able to  jerk off without touching himself. He moaned again louder, the combined feeling of a full belly sloshing round and the pressure of his bulging soft under belly rolls rubbing against his cock driving his mind to dark places. Ben leaked when he ate to full, giving him the ability to jerk himself to completion if he wanted.

“Stop that, I know what you’re doing...you’re being really loud. I’ll get you off later!” He ignored me.

“Baby, If you don’t stop that right now, we can leave without desert.” Ben’s ears pricked up, already feeling an empty space at the top of his gut forming that would perfectly fit a couple of slices of pie or an ice cream sundae.  Rounding out another meal, he didn’t want to leave.

The waitress cleared the table and deposited two thick double slices of pie and a 8 scoop ice cream sundae ‘to share’ I prepaid the check tipping her again to leave us alone. I didn’t know how long Ben would take to force these down. Finished with cutlery and tired of having to leaning forward to reach the table passed his gut Ben scooted his hips down forcing the top of his belly horizontal. it was harder for him to breath with it in this position but easier to eat. The back of the chair strained taking the shift in weight and the rolls at the backside of his Ben’s love handles splitting down the middle and half swallowing the back of the chair. He balanced the plate on the now flat top of his gut and picked up the whole slice of pie with his chubby fingers being careful not to crush it. Rubbing it in whipped cream, he brought it to his mouth. His features were’ almost indistinguishable as he shoved the slice in his face chewing and swallowing. His thick neck roll all the way around, bulging out at his ears, his chubby inflated cheeks, his short piggy nose he took deep breaths in and out of that made his tits wobble and threatened to knock the plate off his chest were all swollen up, each fighting for space. He worked his well trained lips and tongue around the slices of pie, getting a remarkable amount into his mouth and only a few crumbs on the shirt.

By the time both pie slices had disappeared Ben had well and truly lost the will to feed himself. Unable to shift his body or the chairs that anchored him solidly to the floor even an inch back, I pulled the table forward from where it had began to press against his belly.

“You know I love you right bubba”

-“Unf... yeah”

“100 inches... I’m so proud”

-Unf... yeah...” he shifted his weight a tiny fraction of an inch again, before giving up moaning, knowing there was no comfortable position to take the pressure off his gut. I loved when he reached the compliant monosyllabic stage of fullness and gluttony.

I picked up a spoonful of ice cream, bringing it to his mouth. He moaned again, pushing his lips apart and accepting the ice cream. We continued, him accepting tiny spoonfulls of chocolate, strawberry, caramel, vanilla ice cream compared to usual heaped spoonfuls covered in cream and syrup he usually shovelled in. Ben ate at the slowest pace I had ever seen him. His closed his eyes and after a while just kept them closed, moaning and muttering “please” and “more.’ I lost track of time and the last third of Ben’s Ice cream melted into a puddle at the bottom of the serving dish. The restaurant completely emptied out. We kept having to take 5 min breaks while I rubbed his belly until he was able to speak a little.

“Fuckkkk... I’m so full, please baby... please, I have to get fatter”

“Is there more left, please... I like the chocolate, I really like it, is there any more?”

“One... hundred... fucking.... inches, it feels so good. Thank you baby”

I was scraping the bottom of the dish, sad that the end was coming, but there would be many more. Ben had a way still to go, he was determined to gain and loved every lb of blubber we added to his growing fat body more than the last. I was downing my second espresso, getting the energy together to start the trip home. Ben laying back in his two chairs, eyes closed, breathing in and growling like bull as he exhaled. he might have be asleep even.

“Okay”

I said growling at him, getting to my own feet and feeling stiff after what must have been at least three hours.

“Time to go big boy” he nodded and leaned forward, grabbing my forearms and planting his feet for leverage. His ass made it a whole inch up from the seat of both chairs, the joints springing back into their original unburdened position before his fat ass came crashing back down, seriously threatening to collapse the things entirely. We tried again and the same thing happened, Ben’s leg muscles just not strong enough to bring his food filled body to a standing position.

“I think we may have over done it” I said. About 20 mins had passed since he had finished the ice cream and the most painful part of Ben’s fullness had subsided.

-“Haha... yeah... I guess we did.” He laughed back. “What do we do now?”

“Stay for dinner”, I suggested, only half joking. I was always pushing Ben’s limits, both physically and mentally.

-“Yeah, that’s an option, but I want to have some us time. Okay....help me get these chairs back and lets try once more, third time lucky. Will you do me a favour when we get home”

“Sure baby, anything.”

-“Will you get the tape out again, I want to be sure”

[bulletproofscales]

Could u pls do some 2seok where Jin fattens hobi up so much that the poor baby gets stuck in a door or breaks a chair? N he doesn't know how to feel but jinnie comforts him n feeds him n gives him tummy rubs n jst luvs him :(( ♡

—ok so,,, mayhaps,,, i got a little carried away,,,and wrote,,, over 5k words???? IM SORYY I HAVE A THING FOR 2SEOK. I love this request too!! It’s my first time writting a prompt about a character breaking something (that isnt clothing) so i really hope i dont let you down with this one!!–

Seokjin had already adopted their entire life to fit Hoseok’s size. The large size chairs with no arms, changing a wooden bed for a double matress on the floor, wide doors, open spaces. Every measure to make the younger as cozy as possible in the comfort of their own home. But this week, Mrs and Mr. Jung had asked the couple if they could watch over the house as they went on a short vacation; cramped rooms, old chairs, childhood beds.  To say Hoseok was frightened would be an understatement.

In his defence, he had every right to be anxious. There had been a drastic change on Hoseok’s frame, and his parents were too very slim individuals. He knew they had asked him and not sister just because she was on a short trip to Japan, he wasn’t the closest with his parents. They were judgmental enough when he was only chubby but now it had been a couple of months since his last visit, and anyone could say he was now properly obese. It wasn’t even an exaggeration at this point. His face had rounded out completely, and neck had disappeared entirely only to be replaced with a thick layer of fat. His chest had grown enough to be considered breasts, sagging down and resting on his enormous belly; which had grown enough to get in Hoseok’s way of normal everyday basics: he had a hard time putting on shoes, most times opting for sandals, put on pants, or well, joggers with extreme difficulty, he couldn’t even see his feet anymore! But it wasn’t a risky guess to say they were probably chubby as well. His stomach took so much space his arms, now flabby and with jiggly wings, couldn’t reach the bottom of it. His overhang so low it took up most space of his crotch; that also had a little separate pouch of fat above it. His love handles were now big enough to connect with the rolls of fat on his back. His legs had grown inwards and outwards, making it harder to walk or move in general. And it was all Kim Seokjin’s fault.

Hoseok was really fit once, lean muscles and sharp angles. In constant fear of dropping people’s expectations of him; that he was going to make it big, the world known dancer he had to become. The pressure was suffocating and soon turned the thing he loved the most, into the biggest toll on his mental health; to the point once he moved out of his parents’ house, the once extroverted cheerful boy isolated himself from not only his hometown friends but also the ones he had quickly made in Seoul. It was shocking to Seokjin when the guy he had not so long ago became his boyfriend, stopped talking to him entirely, even though he was older, he understood the stress of university. But it was summer vacation and there was still no sign of the dancer, of course, he didn’t expect him to burst out crying when he confronted the younger in his own apartment door. Yet with the discovery that this was much more than just stress from studies, Seokjin felt only more motivated to stay and to bring back the joyful man he met when the boy first entered university and their friend group. So he started hanging out more in the younger’s apartment, most days cooking his own meals for two; knowing fully well how more often than not, Hoseok would skip his everyday meals. And to Seokjin’s luck, the dancer not only accepted them but also ate them gleefully. Or at least that’s what the older could say from the now healthy weight he had gained. His ribs aren’t as noticeable and his every angle felt at least a little soter.; hi mood was better too, less anxious and even more confident in his own skin. Not as unsure, but the fun, extroverted and cheerful man he was before. Not only that, but Hoseok had also started to spend less time practicing in the dance studio, and more time at home; which gave the older the perfect opportunity to shower him with love, even though he was letting loose a little, it didn’t mean his incertenties disappeared. So the older would automatically preparee little details for huis boyfriend to see, from a single cupcake next to  a post it with an encouraging message on it, or an ice cream after a particularly hard day, or a full on feast of celebration. It was Seokjin’s way of expressing support, especially considering how hard Hoseok wa son his body. For example, there was a feast with all of the dancer, or well, ex-dancer, when he decided to change his major to literature. It wasn’t that Seokjin was against dancing, but it had become such a toxic aspect of his boyfriend’s life, the reason behind all of his insecurities and anxieties. The older couldn’t say he was upset with the change, rather excited by it. Hoseok, of course was still uncertain but not only with Seokjin but with the help of everyone, he learnt to feel comfortable on his current major.

When Hoseok was majoring in dancing composition, all of his boyfriend`s rich foods would burn out throughout the week; however, it just so happened that the literature major did not require half as much movement as his former one. So it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when the younger began to gain weight, barely noticeable at first as Hoseok had the metabolism of a teenager. But that could only keep him fit solong; slowly, and very gradually weight began to settle. Barely noticeable, a soft stomach rounder thighs, but now, it would be the first thing people saw in him when he walked past.

It was hard, even though he was near finishing his major, in a happy relationship., with an amazing group of friends who stood by him; Hoseok still had his doubts about his change in career, especially with the metamorphosis his body had gone through. But with his boyfriends’ help, they adjusted their life till it was hardly noticeable that he was any different to their friends. But that was in their apartment, in Seoul.

“Seokjin I don’t fit through the door.” Hoseok stated mortified in front of the too slim entrance.

“Oh come on, Hobi! No with that attitude you won’t!”

“I am physically unable to go through this door.” He stood rigid as he saw his boyfriend laugh hysterically already inside the house.

“Don’t be ridiculous Seokie! Come I’ll help you in.” The older stood now outside in front of Hoseok, Slim crooked fingers holding fat ones. “Do you wanna try sideways or normal?”

“Lets try sideways.” The younger said waddling till he was no longer facing the door but the house next to them. Seokjin slides his hands from his arms to the very center of the massive expanse of his stomach.

“Ok, now walk slowly, try sucking in once you reach the door.” The older’s calmness was somewhat contagious as Hoseok walked over to the door, his boyfriend was already inside though his hands were still on him, pushing the fat slightly inwards, he would squish and ohs every side that went past the door frame so that he would fit. And just like that, slowly and  carefully, Hoseok was inside his childhood home.

“If I have to do that everytime to get in an out of the house I think I’ll just stay in the entire week.” Hoseok groaned instantly finding a chair to sit down, cringing at the loud creak it produced. His breathing was heavy already, he could feel the heat radiating from his most likely red cheeks.

“Then don’t? I mean, you always used to complained how there wasn’t anything to do here anyway. And your parents already left tons of food for us to eat.” He shrugged cheekily “I say we use this week to relax, I know how stressed you’ve been with your thesis on that book..um…?” He gestured vaguely with his large hands.

“Demian” The younger started with a loud exhale of air, feeling the exhaustion from just the name of the novel alone.

“See? You are in need of a break, and you are in luck your amazing boyfriend is going to make sure, you have a good time!” He exclaimed rather dramatically, which earnt a fit of bubbly giggles from the younger. “I’m thinking….”He paused for a moment’s shifting his weight from one long leg to the other. “Movie marathon, blanket fort, and that stew you told me your mom left us.” Hoseok’s heart shaped smiled split his face in half, nodding quickly. And with that his boyfriend left to the living room, probably top build that for the mentioned. The younger would go grab the food and plates, however he had to get up first; a basic day to day thing that had become a difficulty with time. It took a few attempts but he was finally up and waddling his way into the cramped kitchen. It was hard, his ass constantly brushing against the counters, sometimes pushing pots in the process of moving; though he finally was able to not only waddle his way into the living room carrying the huge pot, but also go back for two large sodas and their plates glasses and chopsticks.

His childhood living room was turned into a blanket fortress, which wasn’t surprising knowing it was Seokjin’s specialty. The floor covered with pillows and blankets, making it comfortable to sit on the ground rather than the couch; it was a good call considering how small this couch was in comparison to theirs, Hoseok probably would only be able to fit half of his ass on it. Besides why would he choose the couch when he had his boyfriend already waiting open arms on floor, “The Lion King” ready to play in the tv in front of them, lights already dim and ready.  With an adoring smile he wobbled his way into the floor, sitting down with a loud thud and a long exhale of breath; automatically his boyfriend began to serve him a large portion and set on top of his massive stomach. It pulled down enough for his overhang to be completely settled on the floor covering his crotch; which was also being squished between the fat of his thighs which he had to have spread for ther eot be room for his overflowing stomach. He began to eat happily, one hand bringing food into his parted lipos and the other holding him up from behind; though his flabby arm got tired and he had to push himself backwards against the couch, his whole body jiggling violently with the movement.

He finished his serving quite quickly, and his appetite had changed drastically over the last couple of years, so he pushed himself forward to get a second. Though he finished that one at amazing speed too, so he had to move again to get his third; but by the forth serving Hoseok was growing tired of moving forward and back constantly and eye his boyfriend who had an arm over his shoulder and another hand mindlessly on his not yet bloated stomach. All it took was a slight cough from the younger and Seokjin is already bringing the pot near them to serve him his fifth serving of stew. There was nearly half of the pot left, though Hoseok kept up a fast pace until his seventh serving, he was feeling a little full, his stomach hardening on the slightest; yet this isn’t a worry on the younger’s mind as the large kept it’s steady rhythm tracing circles around the expanse of fat. It was on the eight serving where he had to take a break, his breathing reduced to heavy intakes of air; signalling silently for hs boyfriend to bring him one of the bottles of soda, not needing to be told to help him hold it the older did anyways; knowing Hoseok’s arms would only resist so long, long crooked fingers placed firmly on top of chubby ones as the younger gulped down.  There was less than half the bottle left, and his stomach had expanded ridiculously almost no fat left to squish; a loud whine made it past his oily lips before the younger could restrain it.

“Aw, Hoseokie, we both know there is still room left.” He left no time for the other to respond as a hand sneaked its way under the tight shirt and began pressing at the sides, massaging the pain away strongly. It took a couple of minutes but the younger finally felt a wave of hunger go through him because of the smell of the stew that is yet to be eaten inside the pot.

“I’m ready.” He stated quietly, though this time he didn’t move to grab Seokjin’s hand with the next serving on it. The older was quick to realize what he had to do, and pressed himself against Hoseok’s side, sinking into the flesh as he brought a mouthful of food into his lazily parted lips. Neither of them were paying attention to the movie anymore, both of them completely absorbed with what was happening. Stuffings weren’t a rare occurrence though every time both Hoseok and Seokjin got completely lost in it; the younger shivered with the feeling of hot stew slipping down his throat easily, warm all over because of their overeating, and Seokjin’s hot breath on his thick neck. A deep brush tainted his cheeks as he panted, poking his eyes open at the lack of food being sent his way, only to be found with an empty pot.

“I think this was meant to last us the entire week.” Seokjin’s says breathless, the younger knew he was excited by this too. They both acknowledged it, though never spoke of it. He felt the same way too, and even though Hoseok did spend a lot of his time eating and Seokjin feeding him; never like this. Not hours of stuffing that left both of them breathless, they both knew the other wanted that, though they never found the time. That was until they were asked to look out for the Jung parents’ house, all alone for an entire week. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad.

And he had been right, it was in this week were both lovers discovered the very wonders of feederism; testing the younger’s limits on every meal which had him on a constant state of fullness and laziness. Tonight was their last diner in the house before they had to leave the house. Seokjin was currently out, looking for all of their orders at the various restaurants Hoseok had ordered form. Not so much to their surprise, they had finished all of the food Hoseok’s parents had left them by the lunch of day two; or well at least the younger did.  Even though his hometown wasn’t necessarily the biggest, there so many orders that had Hoseok’s stomach rumbling angrily, but there was no food left! Unless…

He swung his gigantic mass forward and back looking for impulse to stand; it took a couple of tries but with a violent speed he stood up. The enormous amount of weight in his middle almost making him fall forward, he was already panting and he could feel his hearts speeding up. It took some moments of recomposure until he began to waddle his way into his parents’ bedroom; if his memory didn’t fail him, his mother had a secret stock of fattening foods for when she was on her diets. He sneaked his fat mass through the slim door into her closet and spread his knees seperate ways to make room for the giant rolls that formed whenever he crouched. and there it was the large “shoe box” underneath layer wsof clothes that covered it.

Happily he took it, though all this walking had tir4ed him out; he eyed the chair on hispàrents’ desk. It might not be the most comfortable, but he didn’t have the time to clean the crumbs he was going to leave in their bed afterwards, nor the energy to walk back to the living room. So with a sigh, he laid all of his weight aggressively on the weak chair. It creaked loudly but that was a normality now for Hoseok so he proceeded to excitedly open the box. He could start eating now, and when he had more energy go back to the couch, right?

He didn’t exactly know what he was going to find inside the box, though at this point he was willing to eat anything; he actually had a hard time reaching the insides of the box, having to be at a distance from the desk, his stomach getting in the way between him and the food. He let the desk sink into his belly as he reached over the massive chocolate bar and began to eat. His plans of going to the couch being forgotten  not only because he got lost on the eating and the feeling of his hunger decreasing gradually; but also the feeling of revenge on his parents. Knowing how much of a pig they would think he is ass overspilling on the chair, gut too fat pushing against the desk, too spoiled to be able to wait less than an hour without food.  It was thrilling, knowing how much o a pig he was; he wants to slow down so Seokjin could see him like this when he arrived; but i couldn’t help the speed at which food enters his mouth, he was so hungry. His train of thought had already stopped long ago, the feeling of food settling down at the bottom of his large stomach, in fact he had begin to close his eyes in pleasure, only hearing his heavy breathing and the noise of him biting and swallowing food he didn’t even took the time to recognize. So lost in the feeling, perhaps, too lost, as he couldn’t anticipate the loud crack coming from underneath him. Hoseok didn’t have time to process what had just happened, but the broken pieces of chair sinking into his flabby ass and the fact that he was now sitting on the floor; made it pretty clear.  He broke his parents’ chair.

He felt a wave of horror rush through him, the only thought that occupied his mind was “Failure”. He shouldn’t have dropped out of dance, he shouldn’t have gained al this weight; now it was too late, he was just a big fat disappointment to everyone who once knew him; this was probably too much for Seokjin too. What kind of person would want a morbidly obese partner? And like a bad ironic joke to Hoseok, he heard the door open.

“Hobi?” The older called loud voice resonating through the house. He didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want the othe to see him like this; so hurriedly and ungracefully he attempted to stand up, he failed at first and fell with a loud thud making the floor vibrate as an aftermath. The learning footsteps only made the younger more determined as he stood up after a large intake of air and waddlñed towards the door, just at the same time as his boyfriend.

“Oh, Seokjinnie, hi.” His voice sounded raspy and out of breath, and he saw Seokjin had rushed to him with the multiple orders still in his hand.

“Are you ok? I heard something cracking…Why are you in your parents`room?” Hoseok wa squick to overcompensate.

“Oh yeah I was feeling a little nostalgic and I know my mom had a box on her wardrobe with photos and stuff though I couldn’t find it, I just ended up knocking stuff over… Haha you know me I can be a little clumsy!!” Hoseok considered himself a good liar, and it had just been proven with the dark look that took over Seokjin. However, he could guess what was coming and after his insecurity break down, the last thing he wanted to do was eat. But if it got him out of his parents’ bedroom, he’d take it.

“Oh, I bet you looked great, your fat ass squished into that tiny little room.” Hoseok’s eyes widen, they had talked about those types of nicknames during the week, and HOseok was actively in favor of them. But Now, all they did was make his stomach twist in a nauseous nature. He let out an exaggerated whine

“Seokjin, can’t we just go and eat in the living room? I’m too hungry to wait.” It wasn’t really a lie, as much self deprecation he felt. He still wasn’t quite full. He tensed in fear as he felt one of his boyfriend’s long fingers brush against the outside of his mouth,  cleaning off a stain of dark chocolate.

“Even after you stuffed your face while I was gone, pig?” Hoseok stood rigid, he felt another large hand press against the top of his stomach pushing him further inside slightly. The younger’s lack of answer only encouraged the other to continue. “Maybe I spoiled you too much, huh fatso? You can’t even wait 40 minutes without food in your mouth. And what’s worse is you probably are hungry. It’s never enough for you, just can’t stop gorging yourself into what you are now, a big, fat pig.”

“Airplane!” Hoseok couldn’t hold the scream that left his lips. The use of the safeword instantly making Seokjin’s eyes softened, he didn’t barge the younger with questions, knowing fully well this would only overwhelm him more. Instead he placed a cold hand on his round heated cheek. Though he remained silent, though his nerves urged him to know and with the most gentle voice he could muster he spoke.

“Seokie, you can tell me.” He pleaded silently although he was desperate. The younger was looking down, ashamed, Seokjin’s caring voice being the only thing that motivated him to tell.

“I broke my parents’ chair.” He stated in a quiet voice. “I sat in it and after a couple of minutes it just fell apart” As he went further explaining the situation he could hear his voice wobbling. “A-and now, I just can’t stop thinking about what would they think, and how disappointed they must feel, they hate me enough knowing that I gave up becoming a dancer. B-but I can’t even imagine what they would think if they saw me like this. Fuck, it must be disgusting even for- for you.” He didn’t dare to look at Seokjin’s reaction, fear shaking him to the point of crying. Though he didn’t realize he was doing so until he felt soft touches over his long ago faded cheekbones, he looked up startled.

“Hoseok.” The older’s tone sounded serious, stern even . “I could never disgusted by you. You know how gorgeous I think you are, any weight, any size. I- I wish I would have been here when it happened, made sure you were comfortable. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He sounded helpless as his dark eyes searched within Hoseok’s.

“It was embarrassing ok? I was already beginning to think you would be grossed out by me.” He said sounding a lot more comfortable in the situation.

“Well, you thought wrong…And…I get if you don’t want to do the stuffing, though you are still having something for dinner.” The older too was regaining his cheeky demeanor as he spoke. And although what happened had left him feeling self conscious, the idea of Seokjin taking care of him with a sesion didn’t seem that bad; the thought of gentle hands and caring words took over his head as he answered almost automatically.

“No no! Actually, I would really like that.” His words came out desesperante at first and then became shy and embarrassed, though his words caused a wide grin to his boyfriend’s face. He passed all the bag orders into one hand, which honestly seemed to be straining his slim fingers and with the other he extended it fo Hoseok to grab. Holding onto it tightly they walked together through the thin corridors into the living room. The younger sitting with a heavy exhale, the loud creak of the couch brought back memories of what had just happened minutes ago., though luckily, Seokjin wa squickly next to him, all orders splayed out on the coffee table a careful hand caressing his chubby cheek.

“What would you like to start with baby?” His voice was so soft, the older clearly understood what Hoseok needed instead of their ordinary rather more intense stuffings. And Hoseok was grateful for that.

“With the chicken.” The younger’s voice came out equally quiet. ANd no more words were needed as Seokjin reached out onto the table grabbing the dish and bringing mouthfuls into his boyfriend’s lips; their pace was slow and steady. The older’s nose brushing against Hoseok’s flabby cheek, nuzzling closer to his side with each bite. It wasn’t long until he finished the plate, lips oily with grease, though Seokjin didn’t seem to mind as he kissed him sweetly.

“You are doing so good already Hobi. So good for me. How’s your stomach feeling?” Hoseok is only able to answer with a low whine, chubby fingers reaching out to the center of his stomach, where his fingers met Seokjin’s. “No,no. Let me take care of you.” And with a tight squeeze to the younger’s hand, he continued rubbing circles all along the top of the massive dome lightly. Hoseok didn’t feel that full, though it helped to take things slowly and gently. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, him leaning back relaxing enough to have his eyes closed  as Seokjin’s hands found each their way to knead they doughty flesh. Quiet hums escaped his lips under the pressure of the older’s hands. Until they stopped moving, and  suddenly he felt a warm breath against his ear. “What next love?” Hoseok peaked his eyes opened and analized what was  before him. Avoiding to look at his boyfriend knowing fully well the rosey tinted his face would have under the use of that type of nicknames.

“Pork please.” His voice was cheerful once again, which only gave Seokjin more motivation to reach out and began feeding him, still slowly yet the atmosphere had changed; the air seemed lighter and it had seemed as if the chair incident had been forgotten. The older leaned in to spread light kisses over all of Hoseok’s soft shoulder; which earnt as a result contagious giggles from the other. Though he was quick to shut up when the food was brought to his mouth. This time, a lot more open than when they had first started the stuffing, the younger hummed in approval; could be because of the taste of the food, or because Seokjin’s kisses to his body had become sloppy and slow. The feeling of tightness was taking over Hoisoek’s expanded middle, ever so slightly he whined and took the plate from Seokjin’s hands, earning a confused glance. “I-I’ll go one, but, rub my stomach?” He didn’t sound desperate though, the way his face scrunched up in pleasure once the older began massaging his dome was enough.

“Of course baby, you know how much I love taking care of you. Seeing you treat yourself,  eat to your heart’s content; it makes me so happy Seokie.”  Long fingers groped gently the large overhang of Hoseok’s stomach, whilst the other hand rubbed circles all over the middle strongly. Warm words encouraged the younger to speed up his pace as he ate his way through the second dish, finishing it quickly. Seokjin’s eyes were on him constantly, looking mesmerized as he saw his boyfriend eat. “What next sweetheart?” There were only two more dishes left before going into desserts, so there wasn’t that much choice.  

“Pass me the stake and I’ll eat the burger last.”  And instantly he had the dish placed carefully on the top of his large stomach. He began to eat, his pace even quicker than before, a rush of motivation getting to him. Of course his boyfriend noticed, acknowledging HOseok’’s efforts with a tight squeeze to his thick love handles.

“You are finishing them so fast, ‘m so proud. You are doing amazing baby, enjoying yourself to the fullest, well fed; taken care of, that’s what you deserve. “ Gentle words came along with a burger set in front of him. Hoseok was already feeling properly full by now, pace still fast though not as willingly. He bit into the large burger and moaned around it, the flavour of the burger mixing with the way Seokjin’s strong hands roamed and groped all over him, sending him waves of pleasure. The younger’s eyes were half lidded, his breathing has become heavy and a thin layer of sweat covered his entire mass. Though finishing the burger was becoming hard, his  stomach had hardened to its majority which lead to a lethargic lazy pace of eating. He counted the bites left for him to finish it, and once he did, he was saddened at the lost of not only Seokjin’s hands over his body but the warmth of his body next to him. The older was bringing the two desserts that they had ordered onto the couch, occupying the space where Seokjin had formerly been sitting; and with that he happily sat on Hoseok’s lap, slim torso pushing against hard dome earning a loud moan from both of them. “Your stomach is so hard, you ate so much, Seokie. You did so well, how about we mix both the ice cream and the cake for you to drink huh? How does that sound?” Seokjin’s voice remained gentle and caring, HOseok keened at the praise nodding desperately at the amazing suggestion. The older stood up and walked the kitchen where the noise of the blender could be heard. Quickly the weight of his tall boyfriend was again on his laps as he handed him the large glass with a straw, holding it with both hands as he drank it easily. The feeling of cold liquid sliding down his throat, made his entire body relax. Seokjin took both of his free hands as an opportunity hands caressing and pressing onto the places he saw impacted Hoseok the most, the younger had his full attention as he saw his expression change when he pressed his side or the top of his stomach. Though he found the sweet post once he saw Hoseok’s face scrunch up when he groped and jiggled strongly the overhang of his massive stomach. With both hands at the bottom, he leaned down and began to spread kisses all over the clothed dome, in between kisses soft caring murmurs made their way past Seokjin’s full lips. “So good Hobi, so good for me. You are so beautiful, so stunning.” Hoseok’s  face heated up at the encouraging words, motivating him to finish his dessert even though he felt to his limit. With a big intake of air, he swallowed what was left of his milkshake; he finished and his stomach was throbbing, making him scrunch his face up in pain and not pleasure. Though no words were needed as Seokjin’s expert hands pushed his sides inwards with slight strength, leaning in for his boyfriends chocolate lips, the sweet taste of what he had just eaten taking over his own mouth. Their kiss started quick and chaste but grew sloppy and slow, with the only interventions being the older praise.

“You did amazing Hoseok, I’m so proud of you. My beautiful, boyfriend, did so good, so full and happy just for me…We’ll have to get them a new chair though.”

[jeminy3]

Soft!Roy Fic Excerpt - Hyuroi

Small portion of an experimental 2nd-person fic that evolved from jotting down some Chubby!Roy headcanons, in which Hughes makes an absolute fool of himself.

Read on Google Docs

TW: exercise, semi-negative body image and one mention of weight loss

- You're nervous during your first several weeks in the Academy. Once again you have to hang around young people your age in a public school setting, but since everyone here is approaching adulthood, there's less judgment of your size. In fact, some of the other cadets are about as heavy or out-of-shape as you are out on the training fields, so there's more looks of empathy than judgment out here. It's a relief. Your training is hard enough as it is.

- After the quiche incident and everything that'd happened afterward, you've suddenly found yourself with a friend in Maes Hughes. He's still annoying sometimes, but he's a good man overall, and he shares your dream of building towards a better Amestris.

You end up spotting for each other in the gym while you both work to meet military standards - although he ends up watching you most of the time, since you're working harder to lose weight and get in shape. You start your mornings bright and early so you can get in some sets before breakfast and classes, using as much of that burst of early-bird energy as you can before the rest of the day wears you down. Hughes holds your weights and keeps track of your sets with sleepy eyes and tired hands, sipping at a cup of early coffee swiped from the Mess Hall. He's annoyingly nonchalant about your workouts, since you're serious about this, but it's probably just because he's so tired this early in the morning.

You flop on the floor with a sigh after another round of stomach crunches, feeling your still-flabby stomach under your sweat-soaked shirt. "I don't think I'll ever get a six-pack," you moan. "Or any kind of pack, at this rate."

No matter how hard you've tried all these months, you just can't burn off that stubborn layer of fat on your lower stomach. Your abdominals are strong, and they must be well-defined by now, surely, but they can't show through your belly fat.

Maes chuckles above you. "C'mon man, don't worry about it. If you can't get 'em, you can't get 'em!"

You lift your eyes to look at him, giving him an incredulous look. "Sure, says the guy who's got rock-hard abs with no trouble at all."

Maes' upside-down head tilts at you, shrugging. "Eh. Abs are overrated. More trouble than it's worth, really."

You sit up at that, twisting around to face him. "You're a damn marble statue compared to me, Maes, don't bullshit me."

And he is. Maes is tall and lean, muscular and flexible. His reflexes are uncanny, and he trounces you in every sparring match you've had (so far. You'll beat him one of these days, you swear).  On top of his chiseled features, dark hair and hazel-green eyes, he's far closer to the stereotypical 'ideal man' than you are. He's a hit with women and he knows it, and deep down, you're terribly jealous of him.

Maes just smiles at you crookedly, like he always does. So annoying. "I'm being honest! I mean sure, they're nice for showing off for the ladies, but that's about it really."

He stretches and lets out a yawn, idly scratching at his neck. "Ugh- Hard abs are hard, man. They're no fun. They're not, y'know, soft or cute like-"

He stops mid-sentence. Something strange has passed over his face, and he just... stares at you, frozen for a few moments, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

You squint at him, at what he was just saying. "...What?"

Soft? Cute? What is he talking about?

Your question snaps him out of his stupor, it seems. He quickly tears his eyes away from you, turning away and coughing loudly into his fist. His face grows oddly flushed all of a sudden. "Uh- N- Nothing, nothing. Nevermind."

You blink at him a few times. Is he... flustered? That's... strange, because you almost never see him like this... it's kind of hilarious, actually.

You can't help but want to needle him a bit, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "No, what is it? What's this about being 'soft' and stuff, huh?"

Maes glances at you nervously, and it looks like his flush is getting darker. "Nuh- It's nothing! Don't worry about it, alright? Alright. Yeah. Cool."

With odd, jerky movements, he turns away from you, strides toward the nearby bench where he's left his coffee and retrieves it.

"Anyway, good session. See uh, see you later Roy. At uh. At classes. Yeah," he says, in this low, sort of muttering tone, muffled as he starts sipping his cup. He glances at you again, in this paranoid sort of way, as he quickly heads out of the gym.

You're left alone in your confusion, and fascination. You're not sure what you did, or what had even happened at all, to make Maes act like that all of a sudden. He was normally cool, collected, smarmy even. Was it something you said?

You don't get any answers during the rest of the day, as the question fades from your mind as you're swept back into your hectic academy schedule. And Maes doesn't bring up anything about it in any of your conversations afterward.

[coffeewithreviews-blog]

Between the Blade and the Heart by Amanda Hocking *SPOILER FREE*

When the fate of the world is at stake Loyalties will be tested Game of Thrones meets Blade Runner in this commanding new YA fantasy inspired by Norse Mythology from New York Times bestselling author Amanda Hocking. As one of Odin's Valkyries, Malin's greatest responsibility is to slay immortals and return them to the underworld. But when she unearths a secret that could unravel the balance of all she knows, Malin along with her best friend and her ex-girlfriend must decide where their loyalties lie. And if helping the blue-eyed boy Asher enact his revenge is worth the risk—to the world and her heart.

Review: 

Between the Blade and the Heart is set in a futuristic world, where immortals, demons, and mythical creatures roam the streets. The story is a cool combination of Norse mythology and sci-fi tech. It focuses on Malin, our badass main character. She is a Valkyrie-in-training under the mentorship of her mother and the organization that she serves, the Evig Riksdag. The job of the Valkyries is to kill and “return” immortals to the underworld city of Kurnugia. But, what happens when a Valkyrie fails to do so?  

The world-building in this novel is very interesting. The settings encountered by the reader are often familiar places that have been totally reimagined by Hocking. She doesn’t just use Norse mythology in the story, though that is the bulk of the mythology used. She beautifully intertwines many different mythologies to create a totally enamoring world. I really enjoyed the breadth of new and interesting creatures and beings that existed alongside well-known ones.

The story was told in first person POV in Malin’s perspective. I enjoyed seeing the story unfold through her eyes.

The pace of the story was not too fast and not slow. It was fast-paced in action-packed scenes and slower and more descriptive in others. The plot was very clear and the story was easy to follow, but, it still took me by surprise with a few unexpected twists and turns.

The characters were dynamic and relatable, especially Malin. They had distinct personalities and looks, and they ranged from Valkyries to Demons, and I was never underwhelmed with the all of the different characters in the story. I really had fun with them. Also, two thumbs up for having a bisexual main character and lots of LGBTQ+ representation.

Overall, I wish the story progressed a little bit faster and there were some more action-packed scenes. I enjoyed the twists and turns that were there, but I was hoping for some more surprises.

This was still such a fun read. If you are a fan of sexy paranormal books with dynamic worldbuilding, kickass ladies, and cool mythology, give Between the Blade and the Heart a read!

--Urooj, Coffee with Reviews

Stay caffeinated!

Did the above sound interesting to you? Check out the first chapter of Between the Blade and the Heart here: 

ONE

The air reeked of fermented fish and rotten fruit, thanks to the overflowing dumpster from the restaurant behind us. The polluted alley felt narrow and claustrophobic, sandwiched between skyscrapers.

In the city, it was never quiet or peaceful, even at three in the morning. There were more than thirty million humans and supernatural beings coexisting, living on top of each other. It was the only life I’d ever really known, but the noise of the congestion grated on me tonight.

My eyes were locked on the flickering neon lights of the gambling parlor across the street. The u in Shibuya had gone out, so the sign flashed SHIB YA at me.

The sword sheathed at my side felt heavy, and my body felt restless and electric. I couldn’t keep from fidgeting and cracked my knuckles.

“He’ll be here soon,” my mother, Marlow, assured me. She leaned back against the brick wall beside me, casually eating large jackfruit seeds from a brown paper sack. Always bring a snack on a stakeout was one of her first lessons, but I was far too nervous and excited to eat.

The thick cowl of her frayed black sweater had been pulled up like a hood, covering her cropped blond hair from the icy mist that fell on us. Her tall leather boots only went to her calf, thanks to her long legs. Her style tended to be monochromatic—black on black on black—aside from the shock of dark red lipstick.

My mother was only a few years shy of her fiftieth birthday, with almost thirty years of experience working as a Valkyrie, and she was still as strong and vital as ever. On her hip, her sword Mördare glowed a dull red through its sheath.

The sword of the Valkyries was one that appeared as if it had been broken in half—its blade only a foot long before stopping at a sharp angle. Mördare’s blade was several thousand years old, forged in fires to look like red glass that would glow when the time was nigh.

My sword was called Sigrún, a present on my eighteenth birthday from Marlow. It was a bit shorter than Mördare, with a thicker blade, so it appeared stubby and fat. The handle was black utilitarian, a replacement that my mom had had custom-­made from an army supply store, to match her own.

The ancient blade appeared almost black, but as it grew closer to its target, it would glow a vibrant purple. For the past hour that we’d been waiting on our stakeout, Sigrún had been glowing dully on my hip.

The mist grew heavier, soaking my long black hair. I kept the left side of my head shaved, parting my hair over to the right, and my scalp should’ve been freezing from the cold, but I didn’t feel it. I didn’t feel anything.

It had begun—the instinct of the Valkyrie, pushing aside my humanity to become a weapon. When the Valkyrie in me took over, I was little more than a scythe for the Grim Reaper of the gods.

“He’s coming,” Marlow said behind me, but I already knew.

The world fell into hyperfocus, and I could see every droplet of rain as it splashed toward the ground. Every sound echoed through me, from the bird flapping its wings a block away, to the club door as it groaned open.

Eleazar Bélanger stumbled out, his heavy feet clomping in the puddles. He was chubby and short, barely over four feet tall, and he would’ve appeared to be an average middle-­aged man if it wasn’t for the two knobby horns that stuck out on either side of his forehead. Graying tufts of black hair stuck out from under a bright red cap, and as he walked ahead, he had a noticeable limp favoring his right leg.

He was a Trasgu, a troublemaking goblin, and his appearance belied the strength and cunning that lurked within him. He was over three hundred years old, and today would be the day he died.

I waited in the shadows of the alley for him to cross the street. A coughing fit caused him to double over, and he braced himself against the brick wall.

I approached him quietly—this all went easier when they didn’t have time to prepare. He took off his hat to use it to wipe the snot from his nose, and when he looked up at me, his green eyes flashed with understanding.

“It’s you,” Eleazar said in a weak, craggy voice. We’d never met, and I doubt he’d ever seen me before, but he recognized me, the way they all did when their time was up.

“Eleazar Bélanger, you have been chosen to die,” I said, reciting my script, the words automatic and cold on my lips. “It is my duty to return you to the darkness from whence you came.”

“No, wait!” He held up his pudgy hands at me. “I have money. I can pay you. We can work this out.”

“This is not my decision to make,” I said as I pulled the sword from my sheath.

His eyes widened as he realized I couldn’t be bargained with. For a moment I thought he might just accept his fate, but they rarely did. He bowed his head and ran at me like a goat. He was stronger than he looked and caused me to stumble back a step, but he didn’t have anywhere to go.

My mother stood blocking the mouth of the alley, in case I needed her. Eleazar tried to run toward the other end, but his leg slowed him, and I easily overtook him. Using the handle of my sword, I cracked him on the back of the skull, and he fell to the ground on his knees.

Sigrún glowed brightly, with light shining out from it and causing the air to glow purple around us. Eleazar mumbled a prayer to the Vanir gods. I held the sword with both hands, and I struck it across his neck, decapitating him.

And then, finally, the electricity that had filled my body, making my muscles quiver and my bones ache, left me, and I breathed in deeply. The corpse of an immortal goblin lay in a puddle at my feet, and I felt nothing but relief.

“It was a good return,” my mother said, and put her hand on my shoulder. “You did well, Malin.”

 Copyright © 2018 by Amanda Hocking in Between the Blade and the Heart and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Griffin.

Amanda Hocking is the author of over twenty young adult novels, including the New York Times bestselling Trylle Trilogy and Kanin Chronicles. Her love of pop culture and all things paranormal influence her writing. She spends her time in Minnesota, taking care of her menagerie of pets and working on her next book.

Author Website: http://www.worldofamandahocking.com/

Twitter: @Amanda_Hocking

Facebook: @AmandaHockingFans

Author Blog

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***An E-ARC copy of this book was provided to us for an honest review by St. Martins Press through NetGalley

[dannyphantomrpg]

Analysis: Ten Years Later

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Ten Years Later videos lately, and this analysis post just sort of happened~

To be fair, I did need to work it all out since I mildly referenced it in my Foley Fest drabble.

If I get any comic book info wrong, I'm so sorry. I don't know anything about Marvel aside what my husband knows about the 90's Spiderman cartoon.

Let's start off with Sam and Tucker, cause honestly? There's not much to go over with them.

Sam is sort of basic. Sort of dull. Butch says "leather" trench, but it's most likely pleather, or something more animal-friendly. Even (especially) ten years later, I don't see Sam giving up the good fight.

Her crop top, tho, seems to be a constant. I don't know if that's really her aesthetic, or if Butch just thinks all women like to show off their stomachs. Either way, the DP logo is something Sam would definitely sport.

Something I wanted to point out: in her first TYL sketch, Butch compares her to Black Widow. A quick Wiki skim later gives a bit more depth to the comic book ignorant like me. Black Widow's origin story is that of an orphan child being raised by the Russian government as a sort of Anti-Capitan America. She met up with Tony Stark by trying to assassinate someone in his company.

Sort of interesting to compare Sam with Black Widow, and then give her all those huge anti-ghost guns, hm~?

Tucker, I have a few issues with. Not his design (aside how he only got one sketch and then his final design - show your own characters some love, Butch!), but how Butch talks about him.

Specifically, that he's running for president. Quoting from Wikipedia:

“Article Two, Section 1 of the United States Constitution sets forth the eligibility requirements for serving as President of the United States:

   No person except a natural born Citizen, or a Citizen of the United States, at the time of the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be eligible to the Office of President; neither shall any person be eligible to that Office who shall not have attained to the Age of thirty five Years, and been fourteen Years a Resident within the United States.”

Tucker would only be twenty-four in TYL. He's still got 11 years to go before he can even think about running for president. So, like...

What happened to that little bit of legality?

Also of note, Tucker is the only redesign without the DP logo. Most likely, this is because he was the first and therefore before Butch had the idea, but he did give the majority of Sam's the logo.

Moving right along, we get into the meat of TYL. The Fentons.

A moment of silence for my baby Jazz.

How did "I want to go into psychology to help troubled teens" turn into "I'm essentially Tucker now"? Yes, she's the only one we've seen use the Fenton Peeler, but that doesn't really equate to getting "into the tech side of things."

Even in her sketch of just being in a jumpsuit with a "Maddie" haircut, Butch specifically gives her a piece of technology. He has her in a lab, leaning against a circuitry panel. Not a book in sight - not even one on ghost hunting!

And her final design? Oh, my sweet, smart child. There's just something so inhuman and terrifying about this image. Physically wired into Fenton Works? She "helps run all the gadgets"? She has control over traffic lights and automatic doors? Somehow, I feel like Tucker being up close and personal with his iPhone would be way more helpful than Jazz in a building on the other side of the city would be.

What happens the moment she runs into Technus? Heck, just send someone in to cut the power physically and she's completely vulnerable.

I guess Jack would be happy to be half robot? I mean, it seems like half his brain would be gone, so he can probably just be programmed to be excited about it anyway. I've never really seen Jack as the kind of guy to be upset about hygiene. If anything, I see him as a really clean person (until he gets completely distracted with an invention or something).

His second sketch is the one I really prefer - older, but still Jack. He’s big and buff and still a big old teddy bear. I can see this as a man who saw his son save the world and think "I'm slapping that logo on everything to show how proud of him I am".

Jack's finalized sketch is what really gave me pause in the first place. He's missing an eye. He's missing a leg. He has a prosthetic that, according to Butch, runs on ectoplasm. And, ok, I can see that happening. For God's sake, he turned his son and college best friend into halfas on accident because he wasn't paying attention - this man is not someone you really want in a lab setting.

But that's not what happened.

According to Butch, there is a possibility that people did this. That flesh and blood humans went after the Fentons and did them personal harm simply because of their connection to Danny. Jack lost a limb because a person decided to a) take out ghost-hunting competition, or b) cause Danny some kind of psychological harm, i.e. "If we can't get to you, we can get to your family".

And Maddie?

She was first and foremost a mother. Despite all the angst and family drama this fandom produces, Maddie loves her son above anything else. I feel, personally, if there was a choice between continuing her research and her children, she would give it all up in a heartbeat to make sure they're safe and happy.

That's all gone in her sketches.

Her very first image, she has a buzz cut, she has a huge weapon that's creating some sort of unmerciful death-ray, her goggles are down and she means business. There's nothing matronly about her in that image, no remnants of the mother that would look fondly on her son. No, she's murdering the F out of some ghost and does not care.

Again, in he second sketch, her hair is cut off and the goggles are down. There is something out there and she is going to destroy it. There is something out there that made Maddie leap "out of some sort of an airborne vehicle" with the ghost equivalent of the Little Boy and the Fat Man.

And, again, Butch is not helping.

"Well, I think maybe the Ghost Zone is in turmoil. I think that the ghosts need to live somewhere, and they’re trying to come here. So that’s why the Fentons get involved and that’s why there are so many weapons and why they’re up night and day, fighting off the ghosts."

First off - it's been established that the Ghost Zone and the Human World are connected. Anything that happens to one, will affect the other. So if the Ghost Zone has become so uninhabitable that the ghosts are coming here? How bad off is our world?

Second, Butch didn't say the ghosts were attacking. He said they wanted to live here. Yes, there are some ghost jerks out there *cough*Skulker*cough* but what about peaceful ones like Dora and Poindexter? The people of the Far Frozen? Shouldn't the Fentons know by now that not all ghosts are hostile? (Plus, this would have been an amazing use of Jazz's psychology to talk to some of these ghosts, to calm them down and learn from them.)

Maddie's final version manages to paint an even more bleak image for her. Butch mentions Mad Max and, a quick Wiki read later, that's, like, not good. Civilization is gone, lawlessness runs rampant, murder seems to be the only way to protect yourself. And Maddie is supposed to call forth that image?

Her hair is now essentially the shortest length Butch can give her without shaving her head. She's still wearing those goggles. We have yet to see this woman's eyes, she keeps them so hidden from the world. She has no guns to defend herself, only an ectoplasm-charged bat. She doesn't care about keeping her distance - oh no, she wants to be in the middle of the action.

And those BDSM ghosts? She keeps them on leashes short enough that they could touch her. She keeps them around to "help her sense other ghosts", nevermind the fact that, from what I recall, Danny is the only one with an actual ghost sense. Those ghosts look angry and not at all subdued.

And she's still wearing the DP logo. Somehow, even knowing her son is part ghost, she still has enough detachment/hatred of ghosts to demean them down to an animalistic level.

Vlad's designs are, whoo boy... Unique? Different? Each one portrays a completely different vision of the future that don't really mesh together. His first sketch is rather, uh, let's be completely honest here, Satanic. But other than that apparent dive into absolute evil, he looks more or less the same. Like no time has passed. I guess Clockwork could have yanked him out of space before too long?

By now everybody knows about the second sketch with fat!Vlad, tiger!Maddie, and perfect clone!Daniel. Heck, I knew about Daniel before I even knew there was a Ten Years Later video.

And let me just say this real quick: I love that, as soon as the words "He’s finally got himself a cloned child." were said we all, individually, came to the conclusion that: his name is Daniel Masters, he can be a spoiled jerk but isn't really evil, and he just wants someone to be friends with and play video games with. Like, I've yet to even see him in a TYL setting, he's more of a "Season 4" character.

My other thing I love about this image? Fat!Vlad. For a middle-aged man who kept in perfect shape, who fights with ghost teenagers every day, to suddenly put on weight? To me, in my experience, that means he's happy. He's found a way to be calm and relax and, yes, be settled enough to put on a few pounds. That's what happened to my husband. Before we got together she was an anxious, angry (precious) emo chick. And now she's calm, she's happy, she's adorably chubby~ (don't tell her I said this lol). Like, Vlad's so chill in this sketch that, whenever he finds out Daniel's been hanging out with Danny, he's not even mad! He's just like, "Be home by curfew, love you!" (My TYL Vlad is -absolutely- Maes Hughes. There isn't a single employee at Dalv Corp that hasn't seen a fold out wallet full of Daniel's pictures.)

(And just think, when Daniel brings home his boyfriend/girlfriend, Vlad brings out the baby book and Daniel's S/O is just like, "Why were your first steps when you were fourteen???")

Tiger!Maddie is great, if a little odd. Then again, Vlad's just living the dream of every five year old that just went to the zoo for the first time: "I wanna bring home the big kitty!"

And we get back to crazytown with the third sketch. Vlad wants to be king, what? When? Butch do you... do you know who Vlad is? You were so close with perfect clone!Daniel, and then you pull this. The only thing I can see this working as is some kind of Medieval AU with Dora and Aragon/pre-Sarcophagus Pariah Dark. Other than that, I can't see this sketch fitting in anywhere in DP.

But Vlad's final sketch returns us to the nightmare that is TYL. Vlad was abandoned in space, all human contact cut off, the only person that willingly called him a friend turned his back on him. He's probably ready to curl up and die at that point and then aliens come and kidnap him, forcing him to be a miner and then a coliseum fighter. I can't imagine the blow to his pride all that did.

I can accept that he would keep enough presence of mind to escape. Heck, I can almost believe that he would willingly keep the chain on his arm (though as less of a "reminder of where he came from" and more of a "I'm going to make these guys pay!"). But what really gets me is Butch saying, "he really, really wants to get Danny now".

That's not at all ominous. Not at all.

Like, what is that supposed to mean? I'm sure we're supposed to infer he's coming after Danny, but, would he? After all that time alone, after being broken down by some crazy Criminal Minds aliens? I'm sure that, in all that time Vlad was captured, he must have let it slip that he wasn't the only halfa. That this boy on Earth was more powerful that he had been in his prime. Could he be coming to warn Danny? Maybe the reason he escaped was because the aliens have their eye on a new "champion"?

Danielle is absolutely precious to me. My sweet little girl who only wants to live her own life. I love that her first sketch gives her a bit more of the Vlad influence (especially since I headcanon that she has his fire core and not Danny's ice core). The opposing black and white outfit, though, just looks like a bad Harley Quinn to me.

The second sketch is kind of cutsie, kind of bleh. There's something about Butch's femme designs that just... don't really hit the mark.

I'm adoring her third sketch. The overall feel of "ghost" really comes through with this design (and she finally has matching boots and gloves) and it feels really right with her. I've always loved the idea that she's more ghost than human, and this images hits it just right.

Her final design is ok. We go back to the alternating colors, which I don't like, but she also looks more like Danny, which I do like. Butch says she "likes to party" which I can kind of see. She's full of spunk, she has an adventurous side, she'd love to go out and see everything and get involved with as much as she can. The fact that she can shape ectoplasm into words seems like something she'd be into. Just imagine her floating outside of Vlad's window, cussing him out with floaty green writing.

Now, we finally get to Danny. His first sketch isn't too bad. He has a dedicated place for the Thermos - good idea on his part. A little simple, little plain. Loving the cargo pants, tho.

His second design looks a little more like a plain upgrade form his usual hazmat, but with more armor. Makes me think Sam and Tucker went to a sporting goods store and slapped all the knee/elbow pads they could on him to keep him from hurting himself so much.

I like the idea of the third design. When he embraces his ghost side, he gets more Dan-like qualities. I think something like this would take him a while to adjust to, but he would be better for it. This design feels like it would be the strongest one - delving into his ghost half and pulling power from it instead of fighting to keep it balanced with his human half.

Danny's final design, however, make me think. His hazmat has been replaced, or most likely upgraded, to include more Fenton gadgets - specifically trading the Thermos for a Glove. But the Glove, instead of just being a catch/release system, actually uses the caught ghost to power his suit. The green isn't just for design, it's the power he's taken from other ghosts he's captured. Does this mean he's just taking whatever the captured ghost's power is (like weather-control, or even power over boxes)? Or is it like the rest of Fenton tech where he's actually taking the ectoplasm from the captured ghost to power himself? How much is that hurting the other ghost?

As strong as Danny is, as strong as he keeps getting, why does he need to power a suit to keep fighting?

I've been thinking about this final design, thinking about the designs for all the other characters, especially the Fentons. I thought about how Danny would fight until his last breath to protect Amity Park, and, like...

Did he?

Did Danny die at some point prior to Ten Years Later?

Only once is Danny referred to as Danny Fenton, and that's during the sketch for Jack's original design. He's not even called Fenton in his own redesigns. He's had several sketches, but all of them were for Phantom. Heck, Vlad got a human drawing, even if it wasn't for his final design.

And the more I think about it, the more it seems to make sense.

Jazz gave up on psychology when her little brother died. She probably became depressed and couldn't leave the house. Wiring herself into Fenton Works seemed like the next logical step - at least this way she could help without having to face his friends who could go on without him.

Jack was probably grieving when he was attacked. He lost his son, his eye, and his leg.

Without having to reconcile her son's humanity with his ghostlyness, Maddie was free to revert back to a lifetime of thinking that all ghosts were nonsentient. She probably didn't get enough of a chance to being to change her views permanently, so she sees nothing wrong with how she's treating the leashed ghosts.

And Danny himself would even have an excuse for his suit. I've seen in the fandom that the reason Danny is such a strong ghost is because he's young, and he's still growing. That the more he ages, the stronger he becomes. When Danny died, he would have stopped growing in power. Heck, he might have even started -losing- power, and trying to revert to how strong he was when he first "died" in the accident. Having a suit that runs on other ghosts, using their power to replace his own, would actually make sense, especially if Maddie helped make it.