#Shop Mens Sportswear

[thefortitudestore]

TheFortitude.Store | Your Online Destination for Fashion & Lifestyle

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[mrjackhamma]

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[sammymeraki]

1920s

1920s Fashion

For our third fashion history lesson, we studied the 1920s and Art Deco. The 1920s was an incredible decade that changed fashion as we know it. Skirt lengths shortened and women were finally liberated from the dreaded corset. The silhouette became more rectangular, undergarments were abandoned and women showed no cleavage. However, the waist was still aparent at the start of the decade.

By 1923, the waist had dropped, women became more flat chested and embroydery was heavy and glamorous. Fabrics such as sheer and chiffron were used (see through fabrics).

La Garconne

French for the bachelor girl, this word was used as a derogatory word by the elderly and a complement by the young. It was used to describe rebellious, tom boys with short hair and who wore men's clothing. They took part in pre-marital sex and other 'rebellious' activities.

By 1924, trousers were boudoir attire. For example, Paul Poiret's satin pajamas.

During this time, women began to reapply their makeup in public. This wouldn't have been allowed 20 years prior.

Despite the liberation of the corset, some women still used them to make their busts look flat. This was achieved by the freedom corset.

Menswear

The Prince of Wales became the 'it boy' for men's fashion. He was an idol, making fair Isle knits fashionable, and others such as: loose fitting tailoring 'bum freezer'; white flannel trousers and blazers; checkards; stripes; plaid. In 1925, the Oxford stripes became the trending trousers type. Loose fitting that had an average size of 40 inches! Despite the change of fashion from formal to casual, evening wear for men was still black tie and tails.

Lucian Lelong 1889-1958

Known as the man who saved Paris, Lelong stopped Hitler from moving Haute Cauture to Germany during the Second World War. Born into a family of designers, Lelong started a fashion business. He was a very smart business acumen. Unfortunately, he had to go to war. But once the war was over, he came right back into the fashion business. His business flourished with 1200 staff. Lelong was influenced by sport, due to this his designed are associated with fluidity. His dressmaking became engineering; he was a great innovator. Not to mention his 40 fagrances.

He developed the talent of up and coming designers, for example, Christian Dior. And in 1948, after nearly 30 years, Lelong closed his house for good.

Jean Patou 1887-1936

Not only a business man but also a ladies man. The two things Patou loved was women and business. That much so, he opened a dress shop after the First World War. He named it the House of Patou and got his family to work for him. Patou was inspired alot by Russian and Eastern influence, including his love of fur. He brought mens fabric into womens sportswear; similar to Coco Chanel. Patou saw trends like cubism and art decor, so used these in his work. Jean Patou did many iconic and unique things, such as; the first person to brand his work; brought over American models to work for him; created the most expensive perfume at the time, using 10600 jasmine flowers and 336 roses; created mens silk ties from biased cutting waste.

Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel (Coco Chanel) 1882-1971

Chanel did not start off wealthy, she was poor and didn't like her background. However, she lived a good life, despite the fact her mum died when she was 6. She lived and grew up in a nunnery making hats. Chanel was the first designer to create womens jersey taken from men's underwear. She paved her way into fashion by using sex and her sexuality. Her house was established at 31 ru cambon in 1909. At the time, Chanel No.5 was one of the best selling fragrances in the world! And the interlocking 'C's are the most famous fashion logo.

Art Deco

The Art Deco period is a movement in the decorative arts and architecture, originating in the 1920s in France after the First World War. It was developed into a major style in western Europe and United States during the 1930s. It was graphic, strong patterning with rich Egyptian colours; exoctic. For example:

Hoover factory, London 1932-1935

Chrysler building NYC.

An example of an Art Deco artist was Charles Rennie Mackintosh.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Seven (Loki x fem! Reader, Hiddlesverse A Court of Thorns and Roses Crossover AU)

Word Count: 9K

Series Summary: Inspired by A Court of Thorns and Roses with the Tom Hiddleston characters. As you lay dying of consumption, You make a deal with Loki to heal you in exchange for staying with him every month. You are whisked to a world full of magic...and danger.

Warnings: Discussions of cheating (Not Loki, he'd never) and sex and death.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @fandxmslxt69 (can't believe I almost forgot to tag you! But now tumblr is functioning and I can tag you🫡!)

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four//Chapter Five//Chapter Six

The next week, it was announced that Lady Sif agreed to train you. 

You had butterflies in your stomach walking into the room on the training room. It was normally used for Asgard’s soldiers and guards, but anyone was free to have it when needed. Loki’s clever lies to his parents were that he wanted the mortal guests to take advantage of the opportunities of exercise here to pass the time. He was with you when you walked out for one-on-one training with Lady Sif. Hal and Robert were the ones behind. Jonathan was going to go through the city to gather information about Grendel. Thomas had to be in his workshop, studying the designs of daggers. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to see another woman rechecking her gear and clothes on the floor. One who wasn't you. In your sportswear, you suddenly felt incredibly overdressed. Her shirt had such short sleeves! You could see all of her arms and she was wearing trousers! Leather ones with daggers sheathed at the sides! But was still every bit as beautiful if she wore a gown. Pale skin and long dark hair with piercing, blue eyes. She could have been Loki’s long-lost sister. 

Sister…you remembered the Prophet’s words. The blue skin and red eyes…why��he was a “son”? But no- now was not the time to ask. Especially as training was starting to begin. 

 She put strands of cloth around her hands. They looked like fingerless gloves, the kind that Jonathan and Robert would make when they sparred. She flexed her white fingers and checked the tightness. She muttered something and then looked up at you.

“Oh! Are you-”

“I am Y/N, it is nice to meet you,” you introduced with a curtsy out of habit.

“Why, dear Sif! Glad you are here!” Loki greeted.

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked. The Trickster god gave another of his theatrical gestures towards her. 

“This is the enchanting Sif. She was the first-ever female warrior here in Asgard! When they all said maidens could not fight- she was the first to prove them wrong!” Loki boasted.

Sif flared her nostrils, but she kept a half-smile.

“Eh, give or take a few thousand years,” she replied. 

She turned to the two others, cocking an eyebrow.

“And who are these men?” she asked.

Loki gestured to the guests.

“Why- this is his grace, Prince Hal…”

Hal made a gallant bow.

“And this- this is Robert Laing…” Loki continued.

“Oh- Doctor! Doctor Laing- Earned the degree ,” he said with a lick of his lips. He adjusted his tie on his suit. He could wear one since he was not training now. 

Sif dropped her smile.

“Oh- and how do those studies prove you’re better than anyone else?” she questioned him.

“Just wait until you’re the one bleeding out half to death,” Laing retorted with his grin still on her.

Sif shot him a glare.

“I don’t bleed. I make others bleed,” she replied.

There was a sudden chill in the room. Robert backed down and Hal chewed the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. 

“Hmm- we have talked quite a bit. Well,  let’s begin-” she announced. “Get a practice sword.”

In the corner, there were wooden poles and then there were normal swords. You nodded and grabbed a pole that was stationed and ready. 

“No, Y/N! The ones with blades!” she requested.

Oh dear. That’s different. You had yet to try fighting with actual swords. You nervously took one and got it out, unsheathing it with a schliiiiiiick sound. You swallowed heavily as Sif easily grabbed the one next to you. You weighed it in your hand, watching the end of that blade and how many lives, even your own, could be ended with it. 

“I see the look on your face. Do you want to be a warrior? You must learn to fight with a real weapon. You have to be ready, Y/N.” she said.

“Alright…it’s only new…” you said though it was only half your voice.

You walked out into the middle of the floor. The three men stood by the sides with some chairs to watch you both. Hal, the expert on swords too, watched with an examining eye. Robert folded his arms. Loki rested a hand on his chin as he folded his arms. 

“Alright now parry-” Sif ordered.

You parried- moving the sword forward as she threw hers down in a heartbeat. You jumped a little from the impact. There was the sharp sound of the blades colliding that rang through your ears.

“Decent. Now don’t think too hard mortal lady- just act,” Sif instructed. 

She thrust her sword forward. You managed to block it by raising yours impulsively. She was fast and aggressive. When you tried to move forward she would find a weak point and raise it to you. Then you would jump back. You kept fleeing from her, dodging her. Blocking her constant, attacks, your feet shuffling further back. Would she even give you a second to attack her?  You backed up from her constant parries. Her attacks were forward and your defenses backward until your back foot grazed a wall. It then hit you- she has backed you into a corner.

“I’m not sure if you’re training or if Lady Sif wants another fight to win!” Robert quipped. 

Sif’s eyes turned towards the doctor, gritting her bared teeth. 

In a swift second, Sif reached into the side of her pants. She pulled out a small dagger. She looked at Robert and hurled it towards him. The three ducked out of the way. As Robert moved, it landed on the wall next to him, barely grazing his cheek. His eyes were wide and his face pink- as if he couldn’t tell if he hated this or actually secretly enjoyed it. 

You tried to wiggle out, think of a next move as Sif was distracted. Then- a feeling hit you. An odd feeling.

You could sense her. Sense her movement. Sense the movement of everyone. You felt their footprints- where they were. You could sense how many swords and poles were nearby. Everyone’s heartbeat. The other dagger in Sif’s pocket. The guards outside the door. You could feel the feet shuffling in the halls in the next room. As if you were asleep and now awake. You felt your head spin a little and put your free hand to your forehead.

“Sif, I feel…I feel a little odd…” you remarked. 

Her feet rumbled as you sensed her right before you and raised her sword in your direction. 

“Now- Y/N…what do you do?” she asked, raising your sword. It was right before your face. You backed further up to the wall. 

“I…I don’t know!” you confessed.

Sif kept her eyes on you and her sword still pointed at you. You tried to swipe hers away, but she countered it and thrust again forward. You raised the sword up to block it. She pushed forward and you backward. The blades slicing against each other. 

“Come on- focus. Hesitation is when the enemy will gut you open-”

“I really don’t!”  you cried.

“Come on! What’s your first instinct, mortal?!” Sif urged.

You couldn’t think straight. Only the humiliation of your defeat weighing on you. And the hotness of the room, the smells, and the rumbling of feet as someone walked in the next hall. It was too much, too much. In a wave of emotion, you pushed your sword in front of you to her on impulse with a slight shout. Sif snorted, raising an eyebrow at the weapon you stabbed forward.

You felt everything get white hot inside you. The feeling began at the top of your head and waved down to your hands- then to the sword

“Decent, but-”

It happened in a matter of seconds- so fast, you barely processed it. 

Fire shot out. It shot out of your hands and through the sword until it blazed before Sif. 

Sif let out a scream of surprise and backed off. Her sword jumped out of her hands and skittered across the floor. Still, the fire kept burning, blazing. Everyone jumped at the sight of it.

“Why…what…what is this?! What is going on?” Sif cried. The fire added another thing of heat to the room and its crackling was the only sound for a second. 

It then stopped. But the air still felt scorched and warm. It smelt of sulfur. When you checked the sword, it was partially burnt. You dropped it and checked your hands. Little twinges of flame jumped from it. But your skin was unhurt. Then they slowed down and they were as normal, the small star winking at you. 

“I…I don’t know- I don’t. I’m sorry, Sif.” you explained. 

Sif regained her composure. 

“The enemy is surprised, that’s good. Now what do you do- Y/N!? The enemy is surprised and unarmed. Don’t hesitate!”

As you thrust the partially burnt sword forward, Sif jumped back. Her eyes went to the sword she dropped. She reached for it.

With a bit of shock, you felt that sensation again- focusing on that little practice sword of Sif’s. The white-hot buzzing. Something else poured out - almost like a breath. A whiff of energy.

The sword skittered across the floor, unmoved. Far from Sif.

 There was utter silence for a second. The men all stood up with astonished looks on their face. Sif dropped her jaw and turned to you.

“Loki- is this another trick?” she asked.

He shook his head and shrugged.

“No…it seems as if…this was none other than our dear Mortal ladies doing…and there’s only one explanation….magic,” he answered, eyes scanning over every detail of the room and the sword. 

You felt dizzy again. You set aside your sword, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, making you uneasy.

“I’m so sorry but it’s…it’s never…never happened before…” you blubbered out. Now the source of all the attention. Like a child called out for trouble in school before her entire class.

Sif urged the men to come over. 

“Training is done. Please get the queen- she has something in her. It needs to be checked. Now!” she demanded. 

At once, all of you hurried to Frigga in her chambers. She was enjoying the view from her balcony when she turned her head. 

“Mother- hurry- we must talk! About our mortal girl-” Loki insisted.

She walked inside and sat down gracefully on a chair. In brief, all of you told her of what happened.

“Why…magic? Our Y/N?” she gasped.

You nodded. She then reached forward and took your hands. She studied the star marks, tracing them with her finger, her eyes bulging wide as she really took it in. She then turned upward, her eyebrows crossed. Her voice dropped to a sharp, strict tone. 

“Loki…there is only one spell that leaves a mark like that. Why is Y/N here? Not just out of the goodness of your heart? How did you meet her? Was she hurt or sick?” she asked. 

“Yes. Dying, in fact.” Loki reported. 

Frigga’s lips tightened.

“And you used that spell?” she asked.

“Yes, I did.” the prince admitted. 

“My son, did you read everything the book said about it.”

Loki shrugged. He put on his uneasy, half-laughing smile where only part of a chuckle escaped.

“Only the parts that were important!”

She gave him a stern look.  

“That I…thought were important,” Loki admitted. Smile dropping, he folded his hands and looked down, red with embarrassment. For no child was immune to a scolding from their mother, even gods. 

“Including the bargain to seal it?” she asked.

“Yes, mother.”

She let out a deep sigh. Then she walked to her bookshelf. She got out a large, ancient book bound in worn, tan leather. She moved it to her desk and flipped through the pages. Finding what she was looking for, she stopped at one. She read quietly for a minute and then looked at you. 

“You have Prince Loki to thank for this, Y/N. This spell…since the magic must go inside the person to heal them, it never leaves. In short, you now have magic, my dear,” she announced.

“Oh…oh dear god!” you gasped, moving a hand to your mouth. Glad at least flames did not burst out to burn your face. 

“Why, I do like to be called a dear, thank you,” Loki smirked. You gave him a look.

“This is not a joking matter!” you retorted to him.

Frigga folded her hands. Sif, Hal, and Robert all stood watching like they were the audience of a rather suspenseful play.

“Anything else? Other than what happened at training?” the queen questioned.

“I…I’ve had dreams of the future- possible futures…” you explained. 

Your mind drifted back to Stella. The dream you had of her future suicide attempt.  You did everything you could you took comfort in one fact. She made you a promise and Stella would always honor her promises. You wrote to her regularly as you did your parents, sending Thomas to deliver the letters and head back. Like she said, if she was engaged, you would know. Her letters were not of proposals, definitely, not of any men she had her eye on. They were of the ordinary daily life- visits, occasional dances, farmers with their crops, fishermen with their fish, the most tantalizing piece of news that a small town could offer. She was wise not to discuss what was happening at church with you. But no engagements, at least not for her. Perhaps her tragic future was avoided by now. 

Frigga checked the book and tapped her finger on the page. 

“It says right there- visions of the possible futures. Occasional-usually in dreams. And have you ever sensed someone near you- far away? Sensed everything around you? Their actions?”

You nodded.

“Yes. It happened today with Sif,” you confirmed.

Frigga looked at her son and then back at you. 

“Have voices appeared in your head?” she asked.

“One specific voice,” you answered. “Loki’s.”

“I’m not surprised. Do you hear her thoughts too?” she asked Loki.

He folded his arms and lifted his chin a little.

“As clearly as I hear your words, Mother. Even when I was in Asgard and she in Midgard,” he answered.

Frigga turned a page, her finger gliding down as she found a paragraph.

“Here it is listed- the thoughts of the one who cast the spell and the one healed are linked in their minds….” she read aloud. 

She scanned the rest of it, then closed the book. But she went to you, touching your cheek sweetly. 

“It could be worse. But this is a mere symptom of the spell. You will learn how to live with it.” she said.

“How? I don’t want to…to…hurt anyone!” you replied.

Frigga softened her face at your words.

“Oh, of course not! Do not blame yourself! No one has been hurt! You see…”

Her eyes turned to Loki with a small smile.

“My son should be the one to help you,” she suggested. 

Loki’s jaw dropped and he took a step forward.

“Help her? You’re the expert on magic- why can’t you do it?” he asked.

“My dear boy, you were the one who chose to do the spell on her. And you will face the consequences for it rather than running away,” she explained.

He put his hands on his hips and he opened his mouth to say something, then he closed. Frigga kept a smile as she looked between the two of you. Loki swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbing. You exchanged a look, then he turned to her. 

“Alright- then…then I will,” he said. 

Frigga clapped her hands together with a smile. 

“Good- begin tomorrow with the mind reading. It can be done to where two can speak to each other seamlessly would rather it be clear than disruptive. Now-dear Lady Sif, Hal, Robert- I am so sorry I haven’t spoken with all of you. I’ve been busy. How are all of you? Let’s call for some wine and a little bite to eat before dinner as we all chat, shall we?” 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was when you woke up the next morning that it hit you. You were no longer some ordinary “mortal” woman. No- now you had powers! To think, if you could go back in time and tell yourself as a child, what would she think! Not to mention, what would everyone back home think of a woman who actually had powers by accident? Oh, they would all scream in terror if a flame shot out of your hands. Secretly, you were thrilled. As if winning some luck of the draw. 

You walked outside to the gardens. It was right at the start of the afternoon when the sun was the most warm. It wasn’t usually when you liked to walk outside due to the heat, but you wanted to test your newfound abilities. To see if you could figure anything out. You decided to head There was a middle valley in the palace garden grounds. A small grassy part amidst some hydrangea bushes with no trees for shade. 

There were many things you expected to walk into the garden to see. The buds open. Gardeners digging holes. Little bugs about the dirt. Pleasant, familiar, comfortable things. 

You weren’t expecting to see a naked man. 

Pale, and muscular with ripped abdominals and strong biceps despite his lean frame lying down on a bench. A towel on his head and a book over his crotch. They were the only thing on him. 

Ripped with shock, you let out a scream on instinct. To your increased horror, he got up the book shifted. You let out another shout and shielded your eyes with your arm. You thought you would see…that part of a man on your wedding night! Not unwarned and unwanted in a garden! 

But he scrambled up and set the towel and book over the most offending part of his body. When you peeked up, his hair had a redder sheen, and though he was in the sun he was pale. But you had to admit you did like the sight of all the muscles on him.

“Hello there!” Robert nervously chuckled. 

“What on earth are you doing?!” you cried. Your eyes trying very hard to focus on his face. 

“Uh- I just- I’m sunbathing! And I fell asleep!”

“People-people really sunbathe in the future in their free time?!” you questioned. 

“Well, uh, yes,” Robert replied.

“Bare naked as a babe?!” 

“Also yes.”

“Have you gone mad, Robert!?” you cried.

“Not for a month!”

You took a step back, Robert noting the look on your face. He blushed with embarrassment. 

“I am so immediately sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know you would be here! I’ll try to keep it in my room. I’ll talk to Loki. Ask him to conjure a-a-a-sun tan machine or something.” he tried to compromise. His feet started to shuffle to the bushes as if he were Adam after devouring the apple. 

“People make machines for sun tans?!” you asked.

“Oh, they do! I’ll tell you- my- my robe is near this rose bush-give me a minute…”

He leaned in and got it. You turned away as he put the white, cloth robe over himself. The electricity of the shock still running through you.

“Alright, Y/N, I’m decent!” he announced. 

You turned around. Robert tied a knot of the cloth around his waist.

“Sunbathing naked?! Goodness-and did you say…are you sure you’re not still mad?!” you cried.

Robert froze. The joking smile on his face dropped from the embarrassed, cheeky smile. 

“I’m not,” he replied sternly. 

He took a step towards you, his voice serious. 

“Please, don’t bring it up with the others. I don’t like other people discussing it.”

Shame flooded your system. 

“Oh-I…I am so sorry…I…I didn’t know…” you apologized, feeling your shoulders slump.

 He gathered the towel and book in his hands. 

“Well…now you do…Y/N, I….I…I’ll go to my room now,” the no-longer-madman said as he walked out. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Loki did not take you at once into either the indoor or outdoor training grounds. Instead, both of you merely went to a table in a dining hall. He plopped down, his smile never leaving his face as he looked at you. You were dressed in a white day dress with little pink dots all over it, moving your skirt as always so you could sit down on the chair. No one else was around to witness this, only the two of you. 

“Well then- to start. Let’s practice the whole thought business!” he announced. 

“Aren’t you scared I will scorch the table?” you asked.

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms with a shrug.

“Why should it be? Tables can be replaced, but not you. And I’ve been able to access your own thoughts quite easily for a while. We both know that by now. You should learn how to send them and block mine. Unless you want to hear my voice in your ears to lull you to sweet dreams at night. I will be happy to oblige.”

You gave him a scowl.

“You’re a scoundrel,” you responded.

“Always have been and will be,” he replied with a smile. 

You looked forward at him. You folded your hands on your lap. It was a nice dining hall. Right near an open balcony with tall columns of marble around you. The bright sunlight shone down as it overlooked the skyline of Asgard.

“All right- I’m going to send my thoughts out. To you. I will make them clear.” Loki announced.

Then there was nothing. You heard nothing. You felt the rustle of the bustle on the back of your skirt as you leaned back in the chair. 

With a deep breath, you heard Loki’s voice in your head.

“Hello there, Y/N. It’s another lovely day here in Asgard. Wouldn’t it funny if I snipped off a bit of Sif’s hair when she isn’t looking!”

“Don’t do that! It’s mean! And she will scream at you!” you thought back.

He made a gesture with his hands and spoke out loud. 

“There you go! That’s far better! You hear mine- I hear yours!” he announced. “All because you let me in, my dear. I read it in the book.”

“What else did it say?” you asked, moving your hands to touch the table. It was long and wooden, carved with ancient runes. You nervously traced one with your fingernail. 

“Your thoughts are an instrument one can never stop playing. Only you may play them loudly or quietly. But one can muffle out the music of another., Y/N. Now- try to block out my thoughts to you.”

With a deep breath,  you clenched your body. Willing the invisible thoughts of his to not enter your own head.

“Not working.” Loki’s voice replied in your head.

You let out a huff of air through your nostrils.

“How does one block it?” you questioned him. 

Loki slightly tucked his chin. 

“Hmmm, yes, I see how stiff you are holding yourself, your body. And this time I know it’s not because of this ‘bustle’ thing.  Blocking does not mean bracing oneself- body or mind. Think of it like…like a shield…try to put a shield out. Imagine one. And relax a little.” he guided.

You imagined a shield. You saw many among the guards of Asgard. Tall, circular, and bronze. You imagined it up against you, protecting you, bundling up inside it. Warm and safe. Loki let out another small breath. He sat forward on the chair, leaning an elbow on it. His hand touching his chin and grinning. You braced for his voice in your head again. 

But the shield worked. You didn’t hear one of his. There was nothing. Finally! Your physical training was slow, but at least that was one thing you could get right!

You imagined lowering it down. Sure enough, there were thoughts of

“Y/N, the dress you have on today looks quite lovely, especially when the sunlight hits it.”

A little flutter began in your stomach. You couldn’t give into his flatter, no. You sent out another one, looking into his blue eyes. One of a pair of many you learned to get used to. 

“Trying to recover yourself over the remark about my breasts?” you thought back. 

He dropped his smile, lowering his head.

“I apologize. I knew it would rile you- get you to fight back.”

“Thank you for acknowledging that, Loki. You have quite the presumptuous nature- I’ve figured that out so far.”

Then there was no reply. You heard no thoughts. You tried to send something out to him, but there was nothing for a minute. Then two. Then three. You blinked and tried to send it out.

“Loki? Loki-what-”

He waved open with his hands and spoke aloud. 

“See, Y/N- now my shield was up. Let’s try this little back and forth, shall we?” he asked.

It went on like tennis. It was shaky- but at least you had a hand at it. It was a start.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The day came to announce the heir. It was all heralded that morning so quickly, that there wasn’t time to process it. It was the gatekeeper, Heimdall, who resounded it out before the city balcony. All of you standing in the back room as he looked down upon the people. Heimdall smiled at them and then announced with his rich, sonorous voice to all. 

“Odin has named Thor as his heir! Prepare for the ceremony later today at sunset!”

When you looked for Loki, he immediately left the room. Thor smiled wide before servants ushered him out the other door. 

There was so much bustle, servants running to and fro, platters of food delivered from the kitchen, your head spun. And Thor was never seen to discuss this. And not Loki either. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Thor to be happy. But…you knew today was going to be hard for the younger brother. Yes, Loki was cheeky and arrogant and flirted to get what he wanted and fond of getting into trouble- but you had to admit…you felt bad for him today.

The ceremony began as promised at sunset. You were astounded to see so many people about to watch.  To think this many people lived in Asgard! Were they gods too? Mortals like you who just lived in a different world? Curiosity bubbled inside you. You were just used to your plain little life in a plain little town where every house was white and you saw the same faces daily. But here- there was life. Excitement. Not even London, you imagined, had this much of a crowd for anything. They crowded around. They gathered around the large, open space before the throne with a walkway.

Everyone dressed for the occasion. Odin wore his silver armor and winged helmet, his eye patch seemed to gleam like a jewel. Frigga was beautiful in her golden dress, with a smile on her face. Loki stood in his deep green with his large, horned helmet. You were in your own russet velvet dress for parties. Jonathan wore his blue suit and Robert his grey one. Hal was dashing in dark velvet, his curls combed back. Thomas was in his black suit, the bronze chain of a pocket watch sticking out across his stomach. Sif herself remained in her armor but was placed to stand near the throne with the other Asgardian warriors.

“Let us now raise a cheer for my son- your future king, Thor!!” Odin announced.

Thor was brought down on a chariot, wielding a large hammer. His large red cape and long blonde hair flew in the wind. He had a giant smile as he showed it his hammer. The crowd roared for their future king. Everyone was smiling. Everyone…except the younger brother of the future king. 

You looked over at Loki. His hands folded before him, the usually mischievous gleam in his eyes dimmed. He seemed far away, small, and alone. 

“Loki…how are you? What are you thinking? You can tell me…” you sent your thoughts out.

There was no response.

You couldn’t bother with Hal and Sif trying to outdrink each other at the banquet after. Robert kept trying to flirt with her and she told him to bother off, only she didn’t say the word “bother.” The doctor backed away, hands up in defense. Thomas and Jonathan sat next to each other at the meal. It was hardly a wonder so many Asgardian women made their eyes toward the two handsome men. Many maids offered to refill their goblets with batting eyelashes. Jonathan was polite to them, but never seemed to return their attention. Thomas was a different matter, however. He was smiling, chatting, and charming all of them. Thor was at the center, telling stories and laughing as people lauded their upcoming ruler. 

 But you had no interest in the celebration going on in the hall. There was one gentleman in green who was missing from all this.

You felt your sensation again. Despite the rumble of everyone’s food digesting, you felt Loki’s presence. Locating him easily.  So you got up, going to the stone walkway in the next room. The cool air of the night washing over you. Seeing Loki in a marble corner, staring out at the city. He only looked out at the window at the starry sky and two moons shining through the window. He jumped a little when he turned and saw you.

“I’m not surprised….” he said.

“But it’s still disappointing…” you acknowledged. 

He let out a deep breath. You heard Thor’s large laughter from the other end of the hall. God of Thunder suited him- everything about him was thunderous. 

“I’m so sorry, Loki…you would have made a decent king,” you tried to console.

He arched up a dark eyebrow.

“Really? Me?” Loki asked. He seemed surprised, not like the other side of him that would say he knew. He turned around to look you in the eye.

You nodded. 

“Yes- you would have. You took pity on a dying woman and offered to heal her. You comforted her when her heart was broken. You’re teaching me how to control my magic. You’re planning a quest to defeat a villain to protect others. You…you sent Hal after me. And I hear Robert had...”

You stopped your words. You suddenly remembered Robert asked you not to discuss the time he went mad. 

“A…a hard time…” you finished.

Loki gestured with you to walk back to the dining hall. His eyes drifted towards the Baronet in black smiling as a maid refilled his jug for the third time.

“Oh, if you think Robert had a hard time, wait until you find out where Thomas came from,” he replied. 

‘Thomas?” you asked. 

From the smile, you saw Thomas pull out a small contraption for the maid. It was a music box that could fit in the pocket. The maid turned the knob, grinning to reveal its trickling tune. The maid laughed in delight. One would never guess he ever had a “hard time” at any point in his life. 

You turned your focus back to Loki.

“But you are suffering too. Don’t let Odin or a throne determine your worth. We all appreciate you,” you said. 

There was some music in the back and people raised their goblets. Many gulped it down and threw it on the floor, crying “Another!” You jumped a little at the sound of so many cups crashing on the floor at once. 

“Appreciation won’t make me a hero…or Thor’s equal…” he replied as he walked off. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You couldn’t fall asleep that night. Your heart was still breaking from the last line with Loki. He felt invisible. Unwanted. And it felt like there was nothing you could do about it. Wasn’t there a compromise? Why couldn’t there be two kings or couldn’t the kingdom be divided? 

Then there were the thoughts that shot out of you. Thoughts you tried to stifle. Memories you tried to stifle. But stifling them only made them stronger when they arrived. Memories of home. The letters, the field, the white shirt, the-

No, you had to distract yourself. Not dwell. It would only make you miserable. It looks like you would have to ask for the sleeping potion again. You got out of bed, wrapping a pink shawl around your nightgown for warmth, out you went into the halls. Perhaps it would be in the kitchens or you could ask a servant. Your bare feet touched the cold stone beneath, making you shiver. 

Then- there was a noise. A shuffling. Your powerful sensing was warning you. Someone was up-about. You turned around to look. No one. As you kept walking, you kept swearing you heard footsteps. Then a breath. 

There was someone up and close by. Awake. It wasn’t a servant.

Oh no- could it be a spy from Grendel!? You were going to scream, use what you could. Try to move something- you feel someone there. You felt your hands grip your shawl tighter. You were unarmed- could you somehow summon flames again? Make something move? Frantically looking around, frozen with fear.

Before you could even budge, out from the darkness, Jonathan Pine appeared. He put a hand before you to silence the idea of a scream. He put a hand before his face to shush you.

Like…like…like he would, like what Will would do- no! Y/N, don’t dwell on him. It’s over! you thought. The thought then slipped away in a second. You felt yourself relax knowing it was not a spy from Grendel.

“Shhh- Y/N! It’s okay! I’m here!” Jonathan whispered.

“You scared me to death!” you hissed back, placing a hand over your slowing heart.

“I’m sorry. It’s part of my duties.” Jonathan explained. 

“Duties?!” you asked, with a tilt of your head.

“Remember, I’m Loki’s spymaster. I am again- so very sorry about the scare. I’ll make it up to you. Let me take you downstairs- get you something to drink. Does that sound nice?” he asked.

“Yes, yes it does, Jonathan.”

Down you went to the kitchens of Asgard. They weren’t accustomed to tea as much. But they did have wine. And still whole bottles of the special wine that was made for the banquet today. He located two glasses and poured you both some of the red liquid. He handed it over to you.

“How did you become Loki’s spymaster? I’m curious…” you asked.

He paused. He leaned back against the counter, the glass in one hand. 

“I…I’ve never talked about it much…but…I’ll tell you,” he said.

He set down his glass on the counter and then turned to look right at you. 

“Y/N- you know I’m a soldier…” he began.

“Yes, I do,” you recalled. 

You took a sip of the Asgardian wine-rich and dry in its flavor. Jonathan left his abandoned. You his lips tightened, and then in took in a slow breath. His voice was soft, earnest. 

“I never had a family all of my life. I lost my parents. Grew up drifting in foster homes around England. The army at least was stable. It felt like I had a permanent family of my own. At first. But…but…the things I’ve seen…the things I was ordered to do…it was too much.”

He shook his short, blonde head.

“After it was done, I had to honorably leave the military. Start anew. I ended up living in Cairo, Egypt.”

“Egypt?! That sounds incredible!” you cut in. How different and far from England! It must have been hot, but he would have seen the pyramids every day!

He bobbed his head in acknowledgment. His eyes soft at your brief excitement.

“It was, Y/N. I worked at a hotel for their night shifts. Then was promoted to manager. That at least gave me something stable. A routine. It was a hotel owned by a gentleman named Freddie Hamid. Then one night…there was a woman who checked in. And this woman was his mistress…”

He looked at your face to observe your reaction. Back home, such things weren’t discussed so openly. But you swallowed the little bit of shock. 

Jonathan’s features softened. And his voice became softer, sweeter.

“Her name was Sophie…but her real name was Samira. She liked expensive clothes and coffee. She drank when she was stressed. She was chatty. She had a dog she carried everywhere. She loved to flirt with the staff- even me.”

This was far different, far more vulnerable and tender than you have ever seen Jonathan.

“Did you love her?” you asked.

After a pause, he answered.

“Yes. Yes, I did. I loved her. And she loved me too. Just for that brief time, I loved her.”

“Brief? How come?” you asked. 

There was one possible explanation for why. And it wasn’t good. There was a sudden heaviness in the air as he paused. He wrapped his arms around himself and looked down on the floor. Then back at you as he continued. 

“Sophie had documents with her. She handed it to me to make copies, but I saw them. Proof that Freddie and his friend, Richard Roper, had access to weapons. Destructive, powerful weapons. Bombs that would wipe out entire cities. Weapons only the army should own. So I alerted the authorities. Freddie found out and beat Sophie… I discovered he and his men were capable of doing more. She was in danger. Now that it was out, she was a target. They were going to kill her- because of something I did. I begged her forgiveness, and she said she would have reported it had she been braver. She asked me for help.  So…I hid her. Took her somewhere far away…made sure she was safe…I wanted to whisk her far away. To England…”

He hunched his shoulders.

“Those authorities said she would never be safe in England. That Roper had friends there. That returning her to the hotel was the best option. To curb suspicion. She returned with her head high, confident, and smiling as she checked into her suite. I went to work. I carried about my shift like normal. Then I got word from someone…she was in danger. But when I ran into the room…it was too late….there was…was…she was killed-her blood everywhere…”

A hand flew over your mouth.

“Poor Sophie!” you gasped. 

“It never left me. She never left me. She always haunted me…and she always might. The fact I brought her to death, I…I did…She would…would blame me, she probably did in her last moments…”

“But she told you herself that she didn’t resent you for the documents! That she would do the same as you! I…I don’t know if she would…you didn’t beat her like…like her….like Freddie! You were kind to her. You tried to protect her!” you commented, trying to comfort him.

He gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles turning white. 

“Then one day…the British authorities spoke to me. Asked me to help in an operation to bring Roper and his allies down. So…I decided to become a spy to avenge her.”

 It was hard, I won’t bore you with the details. But to be brief,  I did it. I infiltrated him. Brought him down. I killed Freddie myself- drowned him in his own pool.”

You felt your eyes widen.

“I caught Roper and destroyed his stock. Caught him red-handed and brought him to the government. He ended up in jail, executed for his crimes.”

“How is it you managed to defeat Roper?” you asked.

You found that he smiled, both with his eyes and his smile. It was a smooth, handsome smile. He was elegant so easily and naturally. 

“Sheer determination and thorough thinking. That is what will get you through anything, Y/N.”

He put his hands in his pockets.

“And after that, it was done… Loki arrived to me. Told me that he was a copy of me from another timeline, another life. Asked me to be a spy for him. Fight Grendel with him. I had no home. No family. Not even a woman. Not since…since Sophie, no. Nothing to return to…so I have nothing to lose. That’s why I’m here- where I can be useful.” 

You cupped your wine glass with both hands.

“That’s quite a story, Jonathan!” you remarked. 

You took a step closer. His eyes were still glossy from mentioning her again.

“Jonathan…if Sophie were here…I think she’d be proud of you. For what you did. For avenging her…now that it’s done, and if she can’t be here for you…she’d want you to be at peace,” you consoled him.

His blue eyes shone a little bit, his chest rising and falling with his breaths. 

“Thank you, Y/N. If we survive, I hope I can be. I want to live a normal, peaceful life after this. No battles. No bloodshed. Just a quiet, normal life. I want to become a husband. A father. And not worry about anyone getting killed- just love my wife. Love my child. And pour all that love so they will never have to suffer what I did.”

A hand flew over your heart, and you felt your lips curve to a smile.

“That’s beautiful…I hope you do. If we’re careful…that could be your life, I know it.” you said.

He went back and got his wine glass, taking a careful sip. He kept it in his hand as he escorted you back to your room. Finishing your drink, and reflecting on Jonathan’s story, you fell right asleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Two days later, Loki brought you again to that wide training ground on the inside. He made no mention of the ceremony. In fact, there was a bounce in his step as you went with him into that room with just you two.

“Alright YN-let’s practice those other little gifts of yours! Starting with the sensing and tossing things around with your pretty little head!” he announced.

You rolled up your sleeves. He pointed at a red X that appeared on the floor with his magic. 

“Stay put on this,” he required.

You stepped over it. He conjured a wooden pole and set it several feet before you on the ground. 

“Now- move it without touching it,” he instructed. 

You concentrated on the pole. Squinted hard. Your body clenched- but nothing happened. Move little pole, please, come on, move- just an inch, please, please please- you urged silently.

Loki raised up a finger and your glance moved up to meet him.

“Ah, I see. You’re trying to force it! Sometimes forcing it will result in nothing- just allow it happen. As you are- breathe into it!” he advised.

You relaxed your body and returned your focus to the pole. Not losing sight of it, but you released your hand to your sides. It began to twitch a little.

Move, you merely thought.

It rolled right to you like a blast of wind. You caught it with your foot, rolling it carefully. You felt yourself smile in triumph. Loki raised an eyebrow, and he smiled.

“Not bad- now turn around, Y/N,” he instructed. 

You went around and to your shock, you saw Loki again staying right by a wall. A green door appeared on the wall that wasn’t there before. You turned your head to confirm  Loki there behind you- but another Loki in front of you! You didn’t hear him run, but you turned around. There were two of them?!?!

“You have a twin brother?” you asked nervously. 

“Oh no- my magic can make duplicates,” he explained.

One could imagine the sorts of trouble he could get into with that trick! The duplicate Loki gestured to the door and you stepped towards it. 

“Now- what do you sense is behind that door?” the duplicate asked,, his smooth, baritone ringing across the room. 

You did sense something behind it. You could see its outline in your mind. It was tall, thin, and long in shape. It had a sharp point and a handle. Then a picture in your head emerged.

“It’s a…a…a sword,” you answered. 

“That is right. The door is locked. Unlock and open it. Then get the sword,” he challenged you.

You concentrated on the doorknob. Relaxing your body and looking at nothing else. It fidgeted. It shook. But it didn’t open. You tried again, but it failed again. Letting out a huff of frustration, you then looked at the keyhole- sensing how it was kept locked. How the gears were turned to seal it. 

“Now- unlock,” you requested.

The little gears turned and there was a click. Then the door squeaked open. It revealed a dark room with no furniture or decorations. The light from the training room poured out to it- revealing the sword right on the floor before you. 

“Now wield the sword near you without touching it!” you heard the duplicate instruct. 

You concentrated, poking at it with your mind. Bringing it to move. Yet it did not. It stayed there. Dull and solid. When you really willed, it budged forward. Then it stayed put. 

“Dammit!” you cursed beneath your breath. “Just move to me!”

The light from the windows shining through stopped as if someone drew a curtain over them. Turning, you felt the frustration boiling in you as more grey clouds covered the sky. And out of nowhere for an idyllic, sunny day! The god looked up with an easy smile, laughter in his voice.

“Well, Y/N- you definitely did that! IT didn’t move the sword, but it did move the natural elements! Another effect you may thank me for!”

You felt yourself unclench, your shoulders lowering. The clouds rolled away quickly and there was sunshine again. You saw how if you focused on the light shining on the floor. Curiosity crept inside you. When you willed it, the light stretched towards your feet. Like the waves of the ocean when it would cradle and creep softly right before your toes.

“So your mother taught you?” you asked him.

The duplicate vanished into a bit of golden mist. You turned around to Loki and walked closer to him. He nodded his raven head. 

“Yes, she did, since I was small. I remember she’d start with little tricks. Like…like this one here…”

He opened his hand and out came little fireworks. Bright flashes of red, pink, yellow, and blue flying up and exploding into beautiful sparkles from over his hand. You gasped, admiring the bright colors. It was so sweet, so delicate, so lovely. So unlike the portrait of the devious trickster god who called himself anything but a wanted hero. 

“Loki, that’s beautiful!” you exclaimed, smiling in delight. 

He gave you a smile back. You admired the show as it went on and then it faded away. He folded his palm. 

“It’s all a matter of practice- and it will be like swimming to you soon,” he said. 

“I just hope so. It will have to be if I’m to fight Grendel….” you sighed.

“You will- just give yourself time.”

“Do we have time?” was something you wanted to ask. But you did not. You merely focused again on the sword, trying to get it to slide to you. It did not. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a nice rhythmic routine of your new life in Asgard- training so much in both body and magic. Even if it meant you were almost, always a little sore. Dining with these new people you had to call friends. Even Sif, despite her intense training sessions and sarcastic remarks every time she spoke. There was no report of any progress on Grendel. No news was good news, as the saying goes. It just left you more time to be prepared. It was hard to believe a month had passed by. In fact, you could hardly believe it when Thomas arrived one morning at breakfast.

“Forgive the intrusion, Miss Y/N, but I came to get your mail from home. Your parents begged me to send this over to you,” the baronet announced, handing you a letter. You opened it and read aloud. 

“Dear Y/N,

We have not seen you in a long time. Please return home. Just for a little.

All our love,

Your mother and father.”

You folded it in your hands. It was Loki and his variants who sat a the table, all looking at you dumbfounded.

“Do you think you can visit back, my lady? I wonder if you still are sad concerning your betrothal,” Hal said.

“I don’t know if I can bear it alone….” you commented. The others looked at you and each other.

“I doubt I would be much welcome after that wedding fiasco,” Loki commented.

Jonathan stood up from his table. 

“I will go with her. Y/N will not have to face it alone…” he volunteered.

You gave him a thanks as both of you beheld the portal to take you back. Trusting that you could alert Loki with your mind when you were ready to return. Just a bit of magic, the flash of rainbow colors bursting over you and the spy.

In a second, you both were right at the front door of your home. You knocked and were let in immediately. Sitting in the living room having an uneasy tea. They passed a plate of biscuits to Jonathan. He took a bite, keeping an uneasy smile on his face. A few crumbs fell on his pants which he wiped off. You felt your parents staring at the clothes from his time. Suppressing questions out of politeness. You only had one bite of your own biscuit, which tasted stale and bland. Looking over, you saw that the flowers in the vase on the table in the kitchen hadn’t changed since the would-be wedding. Shriveled, wilted, and dead.

“Now….Y/N, what is going on?” your mother asked.

“I am staying in Asgard. There is a great threat. A villain- he’s trying to invade. We are doing what we can to defeat him,” you explained plain and simple.

“When will you return home? Please, Y/N,” she begged.

“I don’t know, mama. Not for a while. This concerns all of our future, if not our safety. I…I wish I could…but I promised I would help them. And I will. I’m learning how to fight-”

“To fight!” cried your mother.

“Yes, and we have a clue on how to take care of it. Loki needs all the help he can get…”

Their frowns deepened at the sound of his name. Then your father leaned forward, his plate and tea untouched.

“Y/N- you are about to marry Reverend Ransome. We have to pick a new date already,” he said.

You set down your tea, feeling your hold on the saucer turn to a grip. Your breathing became sharp and your hands shook as the cup rumbled on the saucer. You set it down, but the shaking continued. Jonathan took out a hand of yours and held it in comfort.

“Mother, Father…I cannot be a vicar’s wife. Not anymore.” 

Your mother blinked rapidly.

“But Y/N- you love him so much and you’ve loved him for years. You told us yourself.  And he loves you!”

Your father looked down on you. His voice deep and serious. 

“I remember the day he asked permission to marry you. You should have seen him, Y/N. Heard his words then. I gave him my consent immediately. You should see how the reverend is now- hear how his sermons are lately. He’s eager for you to return. He misses you. He would run right here now if it wasn’t for his errands today!”

Yes, you forgot to ask him what errands he is doing. The bastard is probably pleasuring Cora against a tree again by now. Why hasn’t the bastard asked her to marry him yet and put us all out of our misery? I delivered that letter- plain and simple. He couldn’t miss it in his own stupid church. He must have read what it said… you thought bitterly. 

Your senses reached out to the woods. It confirmed what you thought happened in the past. You could sense the bodies. His fingers reached up. Then out. Could sense it when he brought it to his mouth and licked off the inside of Cora.

‘Cora, Cora- how perfect for her name. The first bit rhymes with ‘whore’ and begins with the same letter as ‘cunt,’’ your thoughts bit back impulsively. You swallowed the thought back.  

But you looked down into your cup on the tea tray. Fighting the urge to cry, your breathing even faster.

“I have…ended things with him,” you explained.

Your parents nearly jumped out of their seats.

“Ended things! Y/N- consider your future! A stable life with such a good, moral man who loves you! Why?!”

You gripped the arms of the couch with your free hand, Jonathan held you back from standing up. You saw his lips move, to contain getting involved. Only to support you. You felt your heart pick up and your throat tighten. You decided to make the explanation quick and simple. 

“Will slept with Mrs. Seaborne while betrothed to me. That was why”

Your father squinted his eyes, his nostrils flaring. 

“Y/N- Sarah gave her handmaiden to Jacob. It’s not noble for a wife to be upset when this happens. Your duty is to forgive him and make him happy,” he said. 

You glared at your father. Jonathan’s hand broke off from you as you stood up, raising your voice and meeting them where you stood. 

“Papa, Will had and consummated an affair. He kissed, wooed, and made love to another woman while engaged to marry me. He has broken my trust and crossed a line. It’s in the very Bible he studies and preaches not to do this- and he did anyway. Even as I was sick and dying, he preferred satiating his lust than comforting me. Is that who you want as your son-in-law? Or your rector? Don’t tell me he won’t do it after we’re married. I don’t trust him to. He has crossed a line once- and once is enough! I will not and cannot marry a man like that! And don’t tell me it’s my duty to let it go and be some perfect vicar’s wife! I will not make myself pure when he cannot be pure himself! I will not make myself into a perfect, pristine doll all for him to throw away for another!” 

There was silence. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock. Your mother put a hand to her mouth.

“Y/N…do you realize the scandal even the rumor of this would cause?” she asked hoarsely.

You had no time to respond, the door burst open. In were none other than Mr. and Mrs. Harris, and a neighbor, Mr. Brown. Everyone shot up out of their seats, even Jonathan.

“Please! Mr. Y/L/N! Where is she?” Mrs. Harris asked, her eyes full of tears.

“Who?” asked your father.

Their eyes turned to you. Mr. Brown’s face turned red as if he was about to explode onto you.

“Miss Harris has vanished. We fear the worst- a kidnapping. This is no doubt your daughter’s fault!” he said.

He pointed a finger at you. His voice was heavy with venom. 

“The Trickster’s God’s Whore,” he spat.

You felt sick again. 

“Stella’s gone missing. Where does he have her- where does Loki have Stella?!” Mrs. Harris pleaded, her lips quivering as tears twisted her face and fell down her cheeks.

“Another one to spoil her virtue to pleasure him?! The Trickster God has one- Why isn’t one enough?” Mr. Brown sneered.

“Please everyone- she is not in Asgard,” Jonathan reasoned, putting his hands out to calm everyone down. 

“What! Stella! Missing!” you urged. You went to her parents.

Mrs. Harris burst into heartrending sobs and her husband half embraced you. His blue eyes, just like his daughters, still looked at you with careful suspicion, but not outright hate as his neighbor. 

“Gone since this morning. We were out visiting, taking care of business. Her brothers were off at work. Her little sister was with a friend. Stella was left home alone. She told us she intended to stay today- letters to write. Our neighbors said they heard her screaming. When they rushed in, the house and her room were a mess…and she was gone.”

“Please, Y/N,  she must be with you. Talking of the place you are when we asked her, this Asgard! Every time since you visited! The Trickster god must have enchanted her!” Mrs. Harris fretted.

“Why would Loki do that?” you blurted. “No! I swear to you- as someone who friend of your family-Jonathan is right! Stella isn’t in Asgard! If she was, I would know!” 

The mother began to wring her hands. Then she brought out a scrap of paper from the pocket of her dress.

“But she…she must be enchanted…and abducted…why else would she leave a  scrap of paper behind with nonsense on it!” Mrs. Harris wailed.

“Nonsense? What nonsense? What’s on the paper?” you asked.

She handed you the scarp of paper. It was big and lined, written in a hurry. As if she was grabbed while writing it. But it was Stella’s handwriting. You exchanged too many letters to know it was her hand.

 There was only one word on it. But one word was enough.

It read: 

“GRENDEL.”

[poppetsisters]

How did the Fantastic Four cosplay get made?

It started with an idea: to create the most comic accurate fantastic four costume possible. Already I'm hit with the question "but there's so many suits in the comics, so which suit will you choose?" I decided the easiest answer would be "The First One"

Okay I meant "The Second One."

There we go.

Now this costume is not the same as the the costume they wear for the majority of the Kirby run. By issue 6, the costume above was phased out for one without a turtleneck, a blue ring around the 4, a thinner belt, and no drop shadow on the 4. The only change I prefer is that Susan is no longer wearing high heels.

I like the first design better for its distribution of color. The thicker belt just reads nicer to my eyes, and the blue ring around the 4 makes no sense to me. Blue on blue? I also just really like turtlenecks.

Tangent aside, once I decided on a costume, it was time to get to work on the design. Part of the reason I made a Fantastic Four costume retrospective was in preparation for this project. Using the combined lore of the F4 costumes, I could synthesize the most accurate design possible, and my findings can be found below.

I've seen a lot of cosplays too, and part of my secondary goal was to avoid a lot of their shortcomings. I didn't want any bad materials, so I did my research and found materials that best fit my autism texture preferences. I also wanted to be very precise about where the gloves, belt, boots, and turtleneck were placed, hence why I decided to sew them all on, rather than be separate pieces. In an ideal world, there would've been no zipper, but what good is a suit you can't put on?

My brightest idea was separating the leotard from the trousers, instead of having one body suit. This was done as a practical measure to prevent tearing (which is exactly why real strong men in the circus wore them, which in turn inspired Superman's design, and the rest is history. For the F4, I interpreted Jack's artwork as a leotard, or maybe just underpants on the outside. As far as I'm aware, no cosplayer has noticed or applied this to their suit.

Next was a matter of finding someone to make this. I'm an artist, not a tailor after all. Twitter bots flooded my DMs, but what didn't disappoint me was Etsy. I DM'd a few sellers, gauging their personality and their previous work. I settled on PingPing, who you can find here: https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/PingPing

Their portfolio was exactly what I was looking for, and they were wonderful to work with. They asked for additional measurements, were up-front about materials, and were very fast!

Here's the catch. Their page says they use polyester spandex, which was what I wanted, but when they got back to me about materials, they gave me a nylon spandex blend. This made me nervous because I didn't know how this material felt, but every website I read told me it was ideal for sportswear and moving around as it was comfy and good at keeping sweat in, which was what I was looking for regardless.

The real issue was that nylon and spandex is one of the worst fabrics for printing. Nylon/Spandex doesn't do well with a heat press, either melting the fabric or causing shrinkage. In addition, the tight weave makes it really hard to allow flex in printed elements, not to mention adherence.

Their solution to this was to stitch on the logo, but I watched the 1994 Fantastic Four movie where they did just that, and it looked like crap! I took a big risk and told them that I would do the printing myself. I live in Toronto after all, surely there's at least one shop in the city that had the ability to do this.

Right?

That was a problem for Future Penny to solve, so I sent the payment and waited eagerly for my california-based commissionee to finish... and finish they did!

I was so excited seeing this. Even without the logo, it was already exactly how I envisioned it! It even wrinkled the same way around the belly that it does in the comics. I was floored! I was a little shocked that they shipped it before I was able to give notes, but then again, if I had requested any changes, they'd likely have to start all over. Thank goodness it's perfect.

It arrived at my apartment shortly after. I put it on, and it was the most comfortable thing I've ever worn in my life. Because it was tailor made, it hugged my body so well, I was quoting Ned Flanders in his ski outfit! I showed my girlfriend and she was a blushing mess (it was perhaps too revealing).

But there was still the matter of the logo. I called up several places across the city, got into email correspondence with them, and discussed what could be done. Unfortunately, out of the seven places that got back to me, none of them felt comfortable with the material.

I was stuck, if the city of Toronto couldn't do it, who could? That's when I realized how stupid I was:

"Don't I attend an arts school?"

With a tote bag in hand carrying the suit, I made my way to the campus, marching toward the textiles department. I had lied to them saying this was for a school project, but I think they all knew what this was really about. Despite this, they were fully on-board to help me.

The first thing that had to be done was make the screen layers. Their process of printing on fabric was to make stencils of the logo that represented each color (in this case, black and white. The blue was just the fabric itself). I hopped onto photoshop and whipped up the layers pretty fast.

Now it could've been printed that day, but there was a request. They wanted a swatch to print on to make sure printing on this tricky fabric wouldn't damage anything. In hindsight, it was really funny having to buy a $1 swatch with $20 shipping and handling. The swatch arrived quick, and I immediately set up an appointment to print the suit the next day.

It was raining hard, the thunder was so loud I thought it was right above my head, and Passover had begun. I was greeted by two wonderful students named Mya and Nicole. They brought my stencils into the dark room and had them imprinted on a screen like so:

They started out on a white canvas fabric, just to make sure it printed well.

Success! The next test was for the pigments themselves.

Uh oh, what happened? Well the black they were using was a transparent black, which was overlayed on the white dye, making it more see through than we wanted. The fabric itself shifted as well, so it was grossly misaligned. Always tighten your fabric with pins, folks. Another student who I can't remember the name of was able to search the storage area for better black dye.

Don't be fooled by the yellow lighting, that's a black print on blue fabric, not a gold print on a white fabric. Regardless, the black worked! The final test then... was the nylon/spandex swatch.

I couldn't believe it! It actually looked really great! The colors are really crisp, and it even allowed for a bit of stretching (an accidental benefit of the blue part being just the fabric is that it creates less strain on the print itself).

The big problem was that, during the drying phase when the white was applied, they used a hair dryer, which due to the heat, caused warping, hence the misalignment. That meant that when it came time to print on the suit for real, it had to air dry in a dry environment.

Through the leg holes, a block of wood with foam attached covered by a canvas fabric is placed inside (wasn't expecting to get any wood thrust in the suit, feels violating). Euphemisms aside, this was to steady the sheet used to print, as well as to hold the fabric and place and prevent the bumps created by the zipper on the back.

We must've spent 5-10 getting the logo to center and at a right angle. The entire time we were applying paint, we were nervous as hell. I had made the mistake of telling them this suit cost me $600, and there was no going back.

We watched with baited breath.

ALRIGHT IT'S GOOD IT LOOKS GOOD OKAY IT'S HAPPENING IT'S REALLY HAPPENING!! We waited for it to dry for about 45 minutes I think. I got something from the café and sat there thinking about how I was doing this on Passover. Jack Kirby's faith meant a lot to him, and it felt fitting that I brought to life one of his creations during a holiday he would celebrate. I think about my own faith sometimes... I'll leave it at that for now.

I got back into the studio, and they were waiting for me to put on the black coat. We spent another 5-10 minutes lining up the logo with the other logo so it would be the cleanest possible.

The last step was now.

And there it was. Words failed me, I admit. All I could do was look in stunned amazement that this was REAL!

We let it dry for another 45 minutes, where then they took out the pins and presented the fabric to me. They told me not to wash it for a whole month, which I then asked them what settings I should use for the washer. They told me to machine wash cold and delicate, and hang dry, which is thankfully exactly what PingPing told me to do. I walked home with the costume, hung it up in my closet, and joined my roommate for the seder meal.

Thank you for reading.

[vintagecontinuum]

Clothing and Shoes (Repro)

True vintage from the 1930s and 40s is often fragile, damaged, and expensive. Here are my favorite modern brands selling vintage or vintage-inspired designs:

Price key:

$: $50-150 (basic pieces, simpler designs)

$$: $151-300 (well-crafted garments, premium fabrics)

$$$: >$300 (luxurious, exact reproductions)

Other notes:

📏: offers custom sizing

👥: employs height-inclusive models (5'5 / 168cm or shorter)

🗺️: country of origin

All the Vintage Lovers ($) 📏 🇷🇴

A vintage Etsy shop offering made-to-order classic designs. While not explicitly repro, the variety of wide-legged pants suits the 30s on.

Allure Originals ($-$$) 📏 🇺🇸

Androgynous, classic designs in the 1930s and 40s style. Most pieces are one-offs.

American Duchess ($$-$$$) 🇺🇸

Repro footwear for more formal and costumey ensembles.

Bellaha ($-$$) 📏 👥 🇻🇳

Quality linen timeless garments. While not explicitly repro, the shop's classic undertones read as 1930s forward.

One of the models is 5'1 / 155cm.

Emmy Design ($-$$$) 🇸🇪

Well-fitted, high-quality repros befitting of many ages.

Epicoene ($-$$) 🇺🇸

A gender-inclusive microlabel offering 1940s and 50s-inspired garments.

FineThee ($-$$$) 📏 👥 🇷🇴

Curated vintage and handmade pieces from fine fabrics. Repro pieces range from 1930s-adjacent to modern.

The model is 5'5 / 168cm.

House of Kitchstitch ($) 🇬🇧

Handsewn 1940s and 50s pants, specializing in denim but also offering swing trousers and shorts.

Kinzzza ($$-$$$) 🇺🇦

Handmade, antique-styled linen basics. Perfect for almost any decade.

Let's Backtrack ($-$$) 📏 🇺🇸

Feminine, cotton dresses inspired by the 1930s to 50s.

Memery ($$) 🇩🇰

Repro footwear and knits more suited for everyday wear.

Oldfield Outfitters ($$-$$$) 👥 🇬🇧

Vintage-inspired British countryside gear channeling the 1920s, 30s, and 40s.

Two of the models are 5'2 / 157cm and 5'3 / 160cm.

Roksolana Knits ($$-$$$) 📏 🇺🇦

Bespoke repro knitwear and vintage-inspired pieces. The shop offers a wide selection of patterns and colors, albeit with a long waitlist.

Sunny Side Couture ($-$$$) 🇧🇪

Vintage sportswear and suiting in the 1930s and 40s style.

The Seamstress of Bloomsbury ($-$$) 🇬🇧

Late 1930s, 40s, and early 50s British aristocratic fashions harkening the wartime spirit.

Vecona Vintage ($$-$$$) 🇩🇪

Classy 1920s to 40s suiting and dress. Most notable for its three-piece ensembles in both men's and women's sizing.

Woolwhite ($$-$$$) 🇩🇪

Timeless knitwear and overcoats. While not specifically repro, many designs are vintage inspired and range the late 1920s on.

[rockitactivewears]

https://blognow.co.in/reasons-of-wearing-mens-track-pants-for-your-workout

Whether you're hitting the gym, running errands, or just lounging at home, trackpants provide the perfect combination of comfort, style, and functionality. Rockit, a renowned brand known for its high-quality activewear, offers a range of men’s trackpants that cater to various needs and preferences.

[nauticonfashionstore9]

For a limited time only, indulge in a wave of savings with our incredible offer: 25% OFF storewide! 🌟 Dive into our treasure trove of maritime-inspired fashion, accessories, and nautical essentials, all at prices that'll make waves! From sleek sailor outfits to decked-out decor, we've got everything you need to make a splash.

Whether you're planning a seaside getaway or simply dreaming of the open ocean, there's never been a better time to stock up on all things maritime. But hurry! Like a passing tide, this offer won't last forever. Swing by Nauticon Store this weekend and seize the savings before they sail away!

⚓ Offer Details: ⚓ ⏰ When: This weekend only! 📍 Where: Nauticon Store,💰 Discount: 25% OFF storewide!

Anchors aweigh, friends! Don't miss out on this incredible opportunity to score big savings on all your maritime must-haves. See you at Nauticon Store!

Fair winds and following seas, NAUTICON WEARABLES.COM

[maleweightgainstory]

The Factory part 1

It was April, and spring was beginning to make itself felt. The leaves were returning to the trees, and a warm breeze lulled the air around Liverpool's industrial district. It was Travis's favorite time of year. It was at this time of year, when people could go out again without fear of catching a cold, that he could pursue his favorite activity. Travis spent his time surveying the rooftops of the city's neighborhoods. Since he'd been laid off from his job as an IT specialist in a large food group, his days had been freed up, and he wasn't really motivated to find another job. 

He was gifted in this discipline that some call parkour. You could even say his body was cut out for it: rather small, with a well-developed back musculature, agile arms and powerful legs. He had the typical physique of those stocky people from the working class suburbs, spending their evenings in the local pubs, gulping down pints of froth-filled beer, and eventually returning home a little tipsy and very hungry, ready to devour the copious meal their wives had prepared for them. Travis, however, was distinctly different from these people. He certainly liked beer and had a powerful body, but he was still young and didn't have that huge belly that the workers had. Indeed, in the course of their years of toil, they had developed an impressive body: you could clearly see under their clothes a round belly with rolls of fat on its sides, huge and disproportionate legs, a round face surrounded by an extra layer of fat, and round bulging buttocks.

Travis imagined the naked body of one of these men: the hair running down his arms, back and thighs, a clump running from his big, fertile genitals up to his navel, then back up again around his huge tits so that his fat, imposing body was well trimmed. He sometimes dreamed of being able to watch such a man like this, to touch him, to contemplate all that fat piled up over the years: a belly solidly and carefully built up by evenings drinking with friends, gulping down a beer at the factory break, feeding on fatty comfort food. He wondered what he'd do if he managed to fulfill this dream, but he knew part of the answer because he'd dreamed about it more than once. He imagined himself caressing that round, hairy belly, licking those voluminous, warm moobs, searching under that mass for an already hard cock, massaging it until the big guy ejaculated on his belly, swallowing the sweet semen. The young man was fascinated by these men. This body type seriously turned him on, but he had never assumed this part of himself, because he didn't want to look like this.

He understood the difference between his body and that of the workers and promised himself that he would never be seen with such a mass of fat on him. That's why, since high school, he'd got into the habit of working out regularly at the gym five minutes from his home. Parkour was also a good way to get some exercise. His body was beautifully sculpted, with broad pectorals, a flat belly revealing a six-pack, huge thighs and a muscular, developed ass that his gym shorts struggled to contain. Measuring 5.5ft for 195lbs, he was proud to contemplate himself in his bathroom mirror or in the gym locker room. But since he'd been laid off, Travis's income was almost non-existent, so much so that shopping had become complicated. He reconsidered his budget and decided to stop his gym membership. Now he spends most of his time parkouring around his home to keep fit and busy.

That day, he'd woken up with the urge to explore the neighborhood to the east of his home, an area that included numerous mostly disused factories. Climbing the roofs of these buildings shouldn't be a problem for him. He hadn't been to this area before, so he meticulously planned his exit by programming a route on the rooftops. He memorized the route as best he could, dressed in light sportswear and set off. Parkour was going to be more difficult than usual. After crossing several buildings, he took a break. He was contemplating the view from the top of the buildings when an unusual smell reached his nose. He couldn't immediately put his finger on what it was. What was certain was that the smell attracted him. It was sweet and seemed to awaken memories buried deep within him. He understood that what he was smelling was food, but he couldn't put a word to it. His curiosity was aroused, as was his hunger. On this particular day, he had to make do with a meagre midday meal, due to a lack of food at home. His muscular body needed calories if it was to maintain its muscle mass. He decided to change his route to follow the intoxicating scent. He walked through a few more buildings, the sweet scent growing stronger and stronger. Finally, he came to a climax and was able to observe what was producing this tantalizing smell. In the midst of the disused factories, one still seemed to be in operation. He went down to be sure. Then he saw the factory entrance, a large closed door. But above the door, he could read the name of the food company that had fired him. Ordinarily, he would have simply retraced his steps and continued his exploration. However, the intoxicating smell and the sense of injustice of his dismissal prompted him to give in to his curiosity.

So he climbed onto the factory roof. It was the multiple vents on the roof dispersing the fragrant steam that had attracted him. Between two vents, he spotted a section of glazed roofing. One of the glass panes was broken. He moved closer to observe the interior of the factory. It was 6 p.m. sharp and a bell was ringing to signal the end of work and the shutdown of the machines. He then had the idea of entering the building and inspecting the premises. Once the workers had left and he couldn't hear a sound, he put his body through the hole left open by the broken glass, grabbed onto a piece of roofing, let go and jumped into the enclosure. He hadn't really had the intelligence to observe what he was going to land on and was surprised when his body was immersed in a dense, warm fluid.

He had in fact fallen into a large production vat containing several gallons of a substance he hadn't yet identified. The sensation was rather pleasant, his body was enveloped, he had no trouble floating, and the odor he'd smelled earlier could only emanate from this liquid. He pulled his head out of the fluid and wiped his face with the back of his arm. He opened his eyes and realized he was in a factory dedicated to confectionery. When he still worked for the company, he was responsible for the security of confidential computer files containing production line data from factories across the city. As far as he could remember, he had never dealt with or heard of a factory located in this part of town. Usually, the factory in charge of sugar mills was miles west of here. This information only whetted his appetite for exploring the area.

He then stepped out of the metal vat and sprawled out on the floor. He was covered in a substance that resembled chocolate hazelnut spread. It had just been prepared and was cooling for packaging the next morning. Travis knew this process by heart. He managed to get to his feet, covered in the pleasant-smelling spread. He was so covered that he decided to take off his clothes so as not to be encumbered by the weight of the substance for the rest of the exploration. His body was now completely naked among the machines. There was still some spread on his skin. He found no other way than to lick it off. He began sucking on his fingers, licking the hollow of his right hand and then down his arm. The taste was intense and absolutely delicious. Strangely, his hunger grew stronger. His sports training had made him supple enough to sit up and lick the chocolate off his legs and torso. The spread was so good and his hunger so present that he even licked down to his muscular belly, and even his cock, an ability he'd just discovered. He hardened slightly with pleasure. It had been a long time since he'd been able to taste food like this, used to eating healthy, inexpensive food. The texture was greasy and smooth, a little syrupy. The taste was sweet and chocolaty, and he couldn't imagine the number of calories in that spread, with all the vegetable fat and sugar that made it so delicious. Once he felt clean enough, his desire to swallow more spread grew. 

As he approached the vat, he found a small ladder at its side. He deployed it over the edge of the vat so that he could climb to the top. Contemplating the incredible volume of still-liquid sweet spread in the vat, he plunged his head straight into it. His head was submerged up to his broad shoulders. He took a big gulp of the lukewarm, sweet liquid. He could feel it filling his mouth, running down his throat, reaching his belly and filling his stomach. It was a sensation of fullness he'd never felt before. His cock rose like never before. The more he swallowed, the more the sensation intensified. Intense pleasure washed over him. He swallowed a second mouthful and felt a small shock - his pleasure had just doubled. His stomach was gradually filling up, and he began to feel his belly getting hot, which was not unpleasant. After a dozen sips, he put his head out to catch his breath. He wondered what was happening to him. He realized he was enjoying swallowing so much of the liquid. With his face still covered in chocolate, he soon grabbed his hard penis and began a frenzied masturbation. While he was at it, he instinctively rubbed his belly with his other hand. His hand drew little circles around his navel, moving down to touch his balls, then back up to his pecs. He didn't know why, but he massaged them slowly, while he jerked off faster and faster. His hand went back down to rub his tender buttocks, then back up again to his belly to caress it. It took only a few seconds before he ejaculated on the floor. He'd never felt such an orgasm before, the pleasure was of the utmost intensity: all his senses had increased tenfold, he could taste the chocolate that remained in his mouth and flowed from his face to his shoulders, and the warm liquid in his belly. But when he touched himself, he could feel that the usually pronounced lines of his abdominal muscles had faded. When he caressed his belly, he felt that its surface had become slightly smoother and thicker. No matter, he told himself, I'd given in to a guilty pleasure once, it wasn't this amount of spread I'd ingested that would change anything. The truth was, he'd drunk nearly one gallon of the stuff, but his pleasure had been so intense he hadn't realized it. He didn't even feel bloated or full. He simply noticed that his uncontrollable hunger had stopped. So he decided to continue exploring, trying to forget what had just happened.

Luckily, there was still some light, and he could estimate the size of the enclosure. It was huge, and he could make out a large number of vats similar to the one he'd fallen into, as well as large pipes running through the room from floor to ceiling. He refused to join the other vats and went in the opposite direction. He headed for what appeared to be an office or laboratory. The door was ajar, and he discreetly poked his head through. His still greasy fingers touched what appeared to be a light switch, and he pressed the button. The room lit up with a powerful white light. It was indeed a laboratory. The place was lined with large desks, with notepads, machines, centrifuges and computers. At the far end of the room was a large door, which he realized must be a cold room. The lab looked like a medical laboratory, not the usual small production line quality control lab. He felt a slight chill; the warmth of the spread had faded, and he was now cold. He took a few steps into the laboratory to find something to warm himself. On one of the walls hung a laboratory suit. He quickly put it on. It was too small, so his body was perfectly molded. You could see his broad chest, his biceps and a slight belly that pushed unnaturally against the middle of the suit. He didn't notice and thought he looked pretty sexy in this outfit. He decided to keep it on, as it would keep him out of the cold.

He didn't dwell on the equipment in the room and wanted to continue his escapade. He took a quick tour of the factory and noted the diversity of the products being made. There were spreads, cookies, cakes, candies, chocolates and all sorts of high-calorie foods he couldn't afford. All this food was out of his budget, and anyway he knew the extra calories wouldn't be good for his sculpted physique. Still, the idea of having so much rich, forbidden food on hand tempted him. Travis imagined he could afford to eat a few morsels of those delicious cakes, dip his arms into his vats and eat what he pleased. He didn't usually indulge in such digressions. But these days, hunger was nagging him from day to day, and this factory brought him comfort. It occurred to him that he might as well come back the next day, indulge himself while controlling himself, and leave without a trace. “This crazy idea is perfectly feasible”, he told himself, “I won't be bothering anyone by filling my belly lightly with such good food”. So he returned to the first vat, retrieved his sportswear still covered in chocolate, replaced the ladder, wiped off the traces of his ecstasy and headed home.

Back in his apartment, he removed the factory overalls and climbed into the shower. As he dried off, he became aware of the amount of spread he'd swallowed. It was showing well on his belly. A thin roll of fat could be seen lodged between the top of his dick and his navel. Cute love handles were beginning to form on the sides. Looking in the mirror, he noticed the slightly rounder, bulging appearance of his lower belly, around his navel. This little extra fat was even more visible when viewed from the side. The sight of this more tender body didn't seem to bother him; on the contrary, it excited him a little. He arched his chest and contemplated the rest of his body. His pectoral muscles protruded in front of broad trapezius muscles. He sheathed his abs and arms, and could see the fruit of his efforts at the gym over the years. His butt was more bulging than ever, and he'd never felt so attractive before. He went off to bed, prouder than ever of his physique.

The next morning, he found his underwear and sheets wet with semen. He'd never ejaculated so much in his sleep. He must have had a very erotic dream, but couldn't remember. Travis got out of bed to change. Like every morning, hunger gnawed at his gut, but he hardly had anything to eat. The previous day's factory was on his mind. So he planned a whole outing. This time he was going to taste all the food, in reasonable quantities. He knew he had to get there by six o'clock in the evening, and could leave in the morning when the sun came up. He carried out his plan to the letter, motivated by the idea that by the end of his escapade he would be full and happy. He heard the factory bell ring, waited a few more minutes and entered the building. Everything was exactly as it had been the day before. He sniffed the sweet smell and knew he hadn't come for nothing. He followed its methodical path from vat to vat, from production line to production line. The variety of foods present was impressive. His aim was to put an end to his hunger, and he was about to be served. Food was virtually unlimited in the factory, and he knew it. He could devour absolutely all those dream foods he'd been deprived of. So he set about the task of feeding himself as much as possible. As he went along, he randomly served himself: cakes filled with a divine chocolate sauce, peanut butter cookies, large blueberry muffins, chocolate bars of all kinds, donuts still warm and wrapped in thick sugar syrup. The taste was delicious. He could feel the stuff filling his belly, which was screaming with hunger. Little by little, he had become totally out of control. He didn't have time to swallow the previous food before rushing to stuff the next. He hardly took the time to fully savor the snack; he barely chewed it at all. He simply grabbed the food within reach and crunched it down as quickly as possible. Travis didn't even know what he was eating anymore, he just wanted to feel stuffed. He walked towards more and more variety in sweets, always with food in his hands and in his mouth. He no longer cared about eating slowly and cleanly; his belly wanted more and took control. The contours of his mouth were smeared with leftover cakes, sugar, chocolate, butter and other fatty, sugary substances. He would grab the nourishment in a quasi-violent manner, shovel it into his hands, stuff it into his mouth, drop some on the floor and move on to the next food. His hunger hadn't yet subsided, the young guy still wasn't full despite the incredible number of cakes and cookies he'd just swallowed. His stomach was begging for more. In this frenetic race for food, he still had to pause to catch his breath. Something had started to bother him. His belly was pushing harder and harder against the waistband of his pants. He realized he'd just eaten a lot, but he didn't let that stop him. Removing his belt and unzipping his pants, he felt a great relief that his belly was no longer compressed. He also readjusted his T-shirt, which seemed to have become too small, revealing his lower abdomen and the top of his now hard penis, which was trying to slip out of his tight boxer shorts. He didn't have time to worry about his dick begging to be jerked off, he just wanted to get rid of his feeling of discomfort caused by his clothes. So he removed his pants and pursued his urge to quiet that uncomfortable hunger.

After all that solid food, his thirst had grown. It was necessary for him to put an end to it. He staggered off to find something to satisfy his thirst. Further on, he spotted a vat of chocolate milk. He had the feeling he needed a lot of it, and fast. He couldn't wait any longer and had to stop this thirst and hunger. He moved closer and could smell the delicious aroma of the high-calorie milk. Instead of dipping his head into the vat as he had done before, he sat down as quickly as possible on the floor and stuck his head to the vat's spigot. Once he'd found a fairly comfortable position and his lips were properly wrapped around the spigot's outlet, he turned on the liquid outlet valve. The milk poured into his mouth. It was warm and sweet, and Travis loved how rich and satisfying it was. The flow rate was still high, and he had to keep up with the gulps, but that didn't seem to be a problem for him. At a rate of one sip per second, he swallowed the liquid with increasing pleasure. There he was, half-naked, his ass resting on the floor, his back and neck hoisted upwards, his lips pumping the liquid, like a baby suckling its mother, his hands desperately circling the spigot as if this gesture might speed up the flow of hot milk. His belly was filling up at breakneck speed and was about to explode. He even wondered how it was possible for his body to accept such a volume of chocolate milk. Naturally, he felt the skin on his chest tighten with increasing speed. In the reflection of the vat, he could see his belly swelling, his moobs filling out, his thighs getting heavier and his butt getting full of fat. He could feel milk dripping from his lips, running down his neck, joining his growing boobs and dripping onto his now enormous belly. On the first few sips, he could still make out the top of his dick as it worked its way up to his navel. But at this stage, it was pushed back by the skin of his belly so that he could no longer see it. He could feel his T-shirt struggling to contain the growing mass. He heard the seams begin to creak, but continued to feed his belly again and again. Finally, his T-shirt gave way under the pressure of his belly. There was then a large jump from the top of his stomach, and he felt much more comfortable. His new form could now occupy any space it wanted. All that remained were his shoes and his boxer shorts, which were still resisting, but the elastic around his waist was very taut. His broad buttocks had become covered with a heavy layer of fat and were pushing against the fabric of the boxer shorts. His dick found itself wedged between the elastic of the boxer shorts and his thick thighs, which pressed against his growing belly, not without some pain. He could feel his glans pressing squarely into his belly.

Travis became aware of his sudden bulk, but couldn't hide a certain pride at being able to ingest such a quantity of rich food. He continued to drink and drink and drink. He began to reach his limit when he felt that his pecs, now moobs, were literally resting on his enormous belly. Then he turned off the tap and lifted his mouth away from it. He couldn't help but let out a powerful belch from inside his gut that echoed throughout the factory. He had finally achieved his goal of stopping his hunger, and a sense of fulfillment filled him. Still seated, he leaned against the vat. With this movement, he could feel all the liquid mixed with the other fatty foods moving around in his stomach. He was so full that he could even feel the chocolate milk rising part of his esophagus. This sensation only accentuated his already painful erection. He had to stop it. When he reached for his dick, he found it hard to grasp: his belly had grown bigger than a beach ball and his arms had gone numb, so he could no longer simply reach out with his right arm and grasp his cock as he'd always done. He used his suppleness, bent down as best he could and finally managed to reach her. His grease- and sugar-lubricated hand wrapped around his crotch and helped his jerk off more comfortably. It didn't take him long to ejaculate a prodigious quantity of semen. Again, the orgasm was of an incredible power, all these senses had been multiplied by the food that filled his body. His erection had calmed down, he needed now to see the damage on his body.

He wanted to get up, but his new impressive weight seemed to nail him to the ground. He managed to grab hold of the metal wall and stand on his feet. The new distribution of weights on his body almost made him lose balance. He had to force himself on his back to balance this new belly whose dimensions he had not yet fully grasped. He took a few steps, some of them, to head out of the factory. Every step was a difficulty to face, he took a break when he had just reached another tank.

“Gosh, I ate so much to be in such a mess!” he exclaimed.

“My hunger was so intense, I had to stop it, and these cakes were so delicious. I never imagined having such a pleasure in filling my stomach with these sweets and this good milk, my dick has become so hard!”

He redoubled his efforts and left the factory by the main gate. By the time night fell, he estimated that he had been in the building for four long hours swallowing this food. As he walked slowly through the deserted streets, wearing only his boxer shorts to the point of cracking under the pressure of his enormous buttocks and his large cock, he passed in front of a shop window that was familiar to him and wanted to look. He was suddenly shocked, not by the items in the window, but by his reflection. Travis had become unrecognizable. He could clearly distinguish his new forms. He first set his eyes on the most striking, his imposing belly. It had become almost perfectly round and was about eight inches above the ground.

He noticed by touching it that it was very tense, but when he pressed his finger on it, he was still tender. This movement of the hand caused him to make a new noisy burp. He clearly saw the extent of this belly, it overflowed on the sides. His love handles were considerably developed, and came out of his hips to partially cover his boxer. The skin of his belly had become shiny from the milk that had flowed on him when he was concentrated to drink as much as possible. He then looked over his pectorals, turned into boobs. They were massive, fat, comforting and rested on this newly formed belly. He could not help feeling them with both hands. He could hardly hold one in his hand. He used to caress and massage them. They were soft and fluffy, he almost wanted to lick them. He pressed his fingers around his nipple and was surprised when a small drop of liquid came out. He had ingested so much fat with this chocolate milk so quickly that his body literally could no longer contain the fat and had to manage it in one way or another. He did not want to see another part of his body like this on the street and moved away from the store to quickly reach his apartment.

When he arrived, he had to stand aside in order to be able to pass the door neckline, something he had never done before. His body was simply wider than before, his big arms usually aligned with his bust were tilted and rested on this new volume. His two thighs aligned were almost the width of the door, he had to walk with his legs a little spread so that the fat they contained did not bother him by irritating his balls at each step.  He rushed into his bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. His reflection in the store window was not a hallucination. Travis had indeed taken a large volume that evening. He put himself completely naked. Standing in front of the mirror, he could clearly see his huge fat belly, a thin coat of hair that he had never noticed wrapped around his navel and followed a line from his cock to his chest. He could see his boobs resting on this bulky mass, his face becoming rounder and tender, the chocolate around his oily lips. He also found that his legs had become thicker, the muscles protruding from his thighs were wrapped in a layer of soft fat. Travis had actually gotten so big so suddenly, his dick was masked by his belly. He saw only the tip and his balls hanging between his two big thighs. He turned to behold an ass that had become even bigger than before. Even turned, the fat rolls of his belly were visible on the side. It was necessary to put figures on this sudden weight gain. His last week’s weight was 195lbs of a muscular and fit body. He put his foot on the scale to light it up and climbed on. Obviously he expected to see a higher number than before. He stopped breathing and bowed his head to observe the numbers on the scale. He did not immediately manage to see them because his belly overflowing forward masked the vision. He tried to get in as best he could and read the numbers. Travis was shocked. It could clearly read 230lbs. So Travis had gained 35lbs in just one week. He was struck down by the news and went to bed.

Lying on his mattress, he could not sleep. The digestion of all these foods left him awake. He heard his stomach gurgling regularly, sometimes he would release deep roasts and could smell a smell of sugar and chocolate. He thought back to that evening in the factory and the pleasure he had felt in ingesting this amount of unhealthy food. The thought alone made him hard. Accustomed lately to obey his body, he could not help but jerk off by remembering the sensation of food that he swallowed again and again. His seed poured out on his fat belly. He did not bother to get up to clean himself and simply massaged his belly covered with semen, this gesture relieving him a little of the pain of the long digestion that awaited him.

“What have I become?” he asked.

“My body was cut, and I worked hard to get it from all temptations. Now I’m just one of his workers with a huge belly who don’t pay attention to what they eat. I find myself there, my stomach enormous to give in to my impulses and my hunger. I need to get my act together quickly if I don’t want it to get worse.”