#thanks for uhh the message and take care yes? ^^;

[atsu-i]

Hi! Sorry, I'm really trying to find one of your posts and it would be great if you could help me with the name of the manga 🥹

The manga is about 2 guys in the School (they were friends some time ago) and a shy girl is in love with one of them (boy 2), the other friend (boy 1) is trying to help the shy girl so she can confess her love, but he (boy 1) starts to catch feelings for her in the process. Then, we realize the boy 2 is gay and he's in love with his friend (boy 1), and the best friend of the shy girl is lesbian.

The story really caught me, if maybe you recognize the story I'd appreciate it :3

Pdt: amazing blog by the way

hi ^^

[loveanddeepdick]

matchup #11

matchups are closed!

the sound of laughter fills the air, your first date is with…

satoru gojo!

the sun had already hit the horizon, red, orange, and purple hues coloring the sky as you intertwined your fingers with gojo’s. you were listening to him yapping about something silly geto had said earlier when a stuffed animal caught your eye.

“toru! let’s go there!”, you gasped, pointing at the stall with a giant pink teddy bear hanging from the side

“uhh— heh, how about funnel cakes?”, gojo chuckled before you huffed and pulled him to the stall.

the game was simple, toss three balls into each hole and you get the prize. gojo knew it was 100% rigged but he’d be damned if you didn’t go home happy.

you saw the people in front of you lose twice in a row, emptying their pockets before leaving unhappily.

“maybe we shouldn’t..”, your voice trailed off before gojo stopped you, taking out his wallet to start playing.

“don’t worry, babes, i got this”, he grinned, grabbing the balls to throw.

he in fact lost ten times in a row.

you grimaced in embarrassment, tugging on his jacket slightly to signal that you wanted to leave. gojo shook his head again and while you were covering your face, turned away, he slid the worker a $50.

“look, darlin”, he gently grabbed your wrists, showing off the bear to you.

you gasped, squealing before hugging the bear and him at once, jumping up and down.

“thank you, thank you, toru!!”, you smiled, grabbing the bear and admiring its fluffy face.

you’d definitely be giving him a reward later too.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“a-ah, toru, there’s p-people!”, you gasped, shoving your face in embarrassment into the bear.

“yeah? you told me we could do it anywhere, baby”

you were in the back seat of gojo’s slick black mercedes in the middle of the fair parking lot. it’d been long closed but you didn’t wanna risk it. he had you laying on your tummy on the bear as he fucked you from the back, enjoying how your ass jiggled when it hit his pelvis

“you getting shy, baby?”

“no! it’s just—ah! there’s people outside!”

“yeah? let them hear”

his dick was pounding you so rough, you could swear you were seeing stars. the tip of his dick was dragging into your g-spot so good that you were drooling onto his prize.

“careful, baby—fuck! where do you want me?”

“inside, please, satoru!”

“dirty fucking girl, you want all those people to see me using my cute little date, huh?”

“yes, gojo just please make me cum!”

“then take it, baby, take all of me”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

you leaned against your windowsill, letting out a dulcet sigh as you watched gojo’s car drive away. smiling, you got up but not before you heard a buzz from your phone.

the smell of salt air fills your nostrils, your second date is with..

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

rafayel qi!

you let out a short groan before putting your phone down. rafayel has always been a little protective over you. you two had always had some feelings for each other but never made anything official.

you went to the bathroom, cleaning up and changing into a comfortable pair of pajamas until he texted again. rolling your eyes, you picked up your phone. your eyes bulged at the message, nearly dropping your phone as your hands shook in nervousness as you texted back.

rafayel? your rafayel asking you out on a date? he was so indecisive he’d rather die than pick out what to eat for breakfast. you could barely sleep that night or function the next day, jittery from nervousness.

when you arrived at the fair, there he was in all his tall glory, the sunset making his purple hair glow. his eyes locked onto yours before he smiled, taking your hand.

“rafayel, be for real right now, is this a date?”

“what else would it be?”

“i don’t know, okay! it’s hard to tell with you..”, you fidgeted with the sleeves of your sweater, not being able to make eye contact with him. there was a moment of silence before rafayel opened his mouth again.

“i got jealous when i saw that blue eyed freak—“

“don’t call him that!”

“okay, okay! i got jealous when i saw gojo win you that bear. it should’ve been me”

you looked up at him, his eyes already on yours, searching for any sign of reciprocated feelings. you pursed your lips, biting the inside of your cheek before you grabbed his hand, taking him to a stall with a giant bunny as a prize.

“win it. then i’ll be yours.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

“say it, say you’re mine”, rafayel groaned in your ear as he pushed you down onto your bed

“i’m yours, raf”, you whispered, enchanted by his face. his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his eyes trailing down your body as you undressed yourself. he fumbled with his belt before pushing off his pants and boxers, pumping his cock as he engulfed your lips with his.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for so long”, he mumbled as his hands trailed to your pussy, rubbing his fingers along your slit, “don’t ever go out with anyone else again, promise me”

you couldn’t guarantee, you knew how rafayel was, but in the heat of the moment, you nodded your head and rubbed your thumb along his cheek.

he thrusted into you slowly, enjoying your warmth as he whined into your ear, caging you in his long arms.

“mine”

[visceral-stories]

Inheritance

I’m back! Thank you all for staying with me during my long hiatus! I truly appreciate it and I hope you enjoy the story! 

Ko-fi |Twitter 

6:30 PM seemed like a rather late time for a job interview, but it had been the only option to work with Garrett Carmichael’s hectic schedule. An ambitious high school senior, his weekday afternoons were usually fully booked. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, he participated on his high school’s Quiz Bowl team and on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he attended meetings  with his math league. Unfortunately, being a productive, ambitious scholar was not a lucrative venture, save for the college scholarships he was already applying for. Garrett’s nonexistent financials were what brought him to apply for the position of a waiter at his town’s local banquet hall. 

He also needed something to balance out the drag that high school had become. He didn’t mind the schoolwork or classes as much, but none of his few close friends - or acquaintances even - shared his same classes. It felt like he was just going through the motions, forced to interact with people who he didn’t care for. The absolute worst was his fourth hour in World History where a gaggle of dim-witted football jocks made the class a living hell. They weren’t physical with him by any means, but they were the type to whisper under their breaths and mock the way he talked or his answers to questions. As a result, it made him far more apprehensive to raise his hand whenever he knew the answer in class. School sucked and on the weekends, he was free. Too free. Having abundant free time was nice, but it wasn’t like he had many hobbies outside of playing videogames with his fellow math league teammates or doing deep-dives on the internet about the multitude of scientific topics that interested him. Not only did he need money, but he just wanted to get out of the house for a few hours and not watch the Saturdays and Sundays glide past him every week. 

The application process had been momentarily bewildering for Garrett who had no clue how the website worked and he had to ask his mom what the digits to his social security number were. Every other high schooler his age had gotten a job already and he felt dumb for getting daunted by the simple process, but ultimately he persevered. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stepped out of his car and walked to the front door. 

“Wow,” Garrett said with awe as he stepped into the nicest waiting room he’d ever seen. An immaculate tessellation of white and yellow rectangles adorned the ceilings accented by bold, curving polygons painted emerald green to resemble vines. The design appeared to extend far beyond the puny waiting room he was in and across the ceilings and walls of the main banquet hall, which he could see for a long distance. 

“Can I help you, sir?” croaked a male voice.

Garrett looked back in front of him to see a man sitting inside a booth in the corner labeled “COAT CHECK” - the only other fixture in this small, open space. He had broad shoulders and was wearing a fancy tuxedo, nearly filling up the whole window with his width. “I-ummm,” Garrett coughed and cleared his throat, peeved at the inopportune phlegm that had formed. “I’m here for a job interview to be a waiter here.” 

A warm feeling of dread filled Garrett’s body when the coat check guy just looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. Garrett remembered the man he’d been messaging in his emails. “I’m supposed to talk to a uhh…Mr. Clifford Atkinson.”

Thankfully, the man’s stoic face lit up with recognition. “Oh yes, he should be here within the next 15 minutes. His reservation starts at 6:45.” 

“Oh, okay,” Garrett replied. He adjusted his glasses and wondered why the Clifford guy needed a reservation. Didn’t he work here?

“You can take a seat over there and wait for him if you’d like,” the man offered with a faint smile. 

Garrett curtly nodded and quickly sat down in one of the few dark red office chairs outside the front door. He pulled out his phone and searched for that email he’d received from Mr. Atkinson. He could’ve sworn the email he’d received yesterday had told him to arrive at 6:30, but unfortunately it was nowhere to be found no matter how hard he searched for it. Crud. He must’ve deleted it or something. Emails were weird. 

The next ten minutes ticked slowly by, leaving Garrett with minimal entertainment besides a few men and women who intermittently came and went through the front door. They were dressed up in tuxedos just like the coat check guy. It was intimidating the way they moved to and fro. Their solid black jackets with stark white shirts bounced up and down with their movements, taunting Garrett with their sophistication. A layer of sweat formed around him as he realized he might’ve come to this thing underdressed. His casual attire of a light blue short-sleeved shirt, a Mandalorian Star Wars tie, and brown cargo shorts clashed heavily with the fashion here. He’d just gotten here and he’d already made a mistake. It was too late to go back home and change clothes so he decided to drown his fears by scrolling through social media. As he was catching up on IGN’s most recent game review, the door flung open. Garrett glanced up, expecting to see Mr. Atkinson, but instead, the last person he wanted to see stumbled inside. 

A tall, muscular  jock stepped inside, dressed in a light gray short-sleeve t-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and of course - a signature backward cap. “Hey, what’s up man?” he announced as he swaggered up to the man in the coat check booth. “I’m here for the uh…waiter position.”

Garrett’s blood ran cold. It was Devon Kearney - one of the dumbest guys alive and unfortunately, the most prolific nuisance in his fourth-hour World History class. Every day, his deep, stupid voice filled the room as he tended to share every impulsive thought he had with the other football jocks in the class. He was a real menace, rude to everyone besides his little clique or, of course, girls in the class he found attractive. 

Garrett watched the employee gesture for Devon to sit in the chair next to him and a wave of fear filled his body as the jock’s face lit up.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he boomed as he sidled over to Garrett, causing heads to turn. “You’re  that kid from history class!” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Carmichael, Carmichael, Carmichael. Shit, what’s the first name?” he asked aloud as if Garrett wasn’t even there. 

Garrett clenched his fists. “My name is Garrett, you big-”

“Ah! That’s right, that’s right! I knew that!” Devon roared as he sat down two chairs away from his far skinnier comrade. “You look like a Garrett too,” he snickered with a cocky sneer that made Garrett want to strangle him. Devon was so fake, trying to act all cool and friendly with him as if he hadn’t spent the last three months mocking Garrett in class. Most of the time when Garrett raised his hand to answer a question, he could hear Devon or one of his stupid friends whisper to each other and giggle. Those jerks. Garrett couldn’t wait till he graduated in May and never had to interact with those bozos ever again.

“So what the hell are you doing here, man? Are you applying for a job too?” Devon asked.

Garrett sighed. He wanted to tell Devon to screw off, but that sure as hell wouldn’t go over well at school tomorrow. It wasn’t like the jocks had ever been physical, but he didn’t want to find out. “I’m applying for a job,” he said, not even bothering to continue eye contact. 

“No way! What position? Dishwasher?”

Garrett held his ground as he felt the spit in the back of his throat dry up. “Waiter.”

“You? A waiter? No way, that’s the role I’m training for too!” Devon let out a boisterous laugh that made Garrett’s skin crawl. “Hey, I support it man, but no offense, I…uh….I don’t see you being super social. Being a waiter means like…talking to people a bunch and making ‘em your friends to get stacks of tip money! And at a real fancy place like this, they’re gonna have fat bank accounts! No cap!” 

“Whatever,” Garrett huffed quietly, cringing at the “no cap” comment the most. He turned his phone back on and released an embittered breath.

“It is what it is, man,” Devon snarkily added. He began talking, mostly to himself, again as he pulled out his phone. “Oh man, wait till I tell the boys about who I found at the banquet hall!” 

An awkward silence filled the hall once more, save for Devon’s subtly obnoxious open-mouthed breathing, but moments later, the door swung open and a middle-aged man waddled inside. Garrett caught a faint glimpse of his massive torso out of the corner of his eye. His silver-haired head looked like a snow-covered peak nestled in between the two mountains that were his massive shoulders. Even more shocking was the fact that his pecs were even larger than his bodybuilder-level deltoids. They had entered the room before he did and only drew more attention as they were thinly veiled beneath the strained white dress shirt he was wearing. The top three buttons were undone, revealing a scandalous amount of male cleavage complemented by a light dusting of silver chest hair. 

Garrett noticed that even Devon was also gawking at this colossal guy as he trudged over to the coat check. He leaned over on the desk as he talked with the attendant and Garrett’s cheeks turned pink as he gazed at the man’s massive, imperious figure. Especially his round butt. The dude was absolutely caked up! The buttons of the back pockets of his blue dress pants looked ready to snap. He’d never even considered the idea that men could have butts that big. 

All of a sudden, the hefty stranger spun around on his heels and made direct eye contact with the two teenagers who were obviously gawking at his size. His jaw was the size of a lantern and his eyes had a piercing sapphire coloration to them. He looked like he was plucked straight from Hollywood or something. “Ah, Gentlemen, welcome! It’s nice to see you!” he boomed, the volume of his bassy voice sending a shockwave through Garrett and Devon.  

“Nice to see you too, man!” Devon replied, clearly in awe of the massive male specimen in front of him 

“Sorry about the outfit, boys. These tits of mine have been fighting me to get dressed today,” Cliff said with a playful jiggle of his partially-exposed pecs. “Getting dressed up is quite the hassle isn’t it?”

“Yeah for sure!” Devon said, intentionally lowering his voice to match the other man’s volume. What a kiss-ass. Garrett didn’t even know how to react. He just watched as the other young man hopped to his feet and extended his arm out for a handshake to which the man obliged. “I’m Devon.”

“Cliff Atkinson,” the man boomed as he shook Devon’s hand. Garrett promptly hopped to his feet as the man turned to him. “And who might you be?” he asked. “Just kidding, Garrett. I know who you are. Bring it in. I’m so proud of you.”

Before Garrett could even process what was happening, the man had pulled him in for a bear hug. It was unbelievably awkward, considering he had to hunch over to get down to Garrett’s 5’6” height. As Cliff gave him a firm, tender beat hug as tight as a vice, Garrett swore he could feel his lungs compressing from the immense pressure. It wasn’t like he knew what to say anyway. He had never seen this man before and now he was talking to him so intimately. It was so weird. When Cliff released him and gave him a tender pat on the back, he was nothing short of disoriented. 

Garrett was gasping for breath. Before he could voice his confusion, the mountainous man stood straight up again and clapped his dumbbell-sized hands together with a smile. “I am quite glad to see you both, but I must say both of your outfits are quite unbecoming. The guests should be showing within a half hour. Maybe even earlier.” He turned to Devon. “I’m sure you are new here so all is forgiven, but this is a high-class banquet hall and we take attire very seriously here. Not to worry though, we have some proper clothes for you! Do you know where the dressing rooms are?” 

“No sir,” Devon replied. Garrett peered over and locked eyes with a very sour-faced Devon, whose eyes were still boggling wide with disbelief. 

Cliff smiled. “Not a problem, I’m happy to show you.” He turned to Garrett. “Garrett can go with you too. We must get you out of those dreadful street clothes. It’s your very special day after all.”  

Garrett’s throat was dry from how shocked he was, but Cliff had already started leading the way before he could ask him a question - and he certainly had many options!  Like “why the hell did you say you’re proud of me?”  Or “what do you mean by special day?” But just the thought of questioning this hulking beast of man seemed way too daunting, no matter how tame he seemed.

Cliff turned and led the two boys into the banquet hall, which was far more capacious than Garrett had expected. The place must’ve been at least three-thousand square feet, with every inch of it decorated with Italian Renaissance artwork similar to what was in the lobby. Intricate geometric patterns lined the walls and surrounded the various paintings around the hall, which were also complemented by beige accents around the perimeters. There also had to be around fifty or so round tables all spread out in the open area. Some of the chairs were so close together that Cliff had to walk sideways just to get his broad figure past. 

“So how the hell does a guy like you know a guy like that?” Devon whispered as the two traveled through the array of round tables, his voice rife with envy. 

“I have no clue,” Garrett replied - the exact same question was on his mind. 

“Whatever,” Devon snarled, his tone rich with vicious envy. “I’m a better fit for the job than you anyway. You don’t even know how to talk to girls.”

Garrett coiled his fists. He wanted to retaliate, but he knew that wouldn’t end well. Imagining the five other football players targeting him would be a living hell. He decided to voice a general comment anyway. “Well Devon, it appears that we may have both gotten the job. I mean he never said otherwise.” 

“Bullshit, sir,” Devon hissed before his eyes widened with confusion after a few moments. “Wait, why did I just call you, sir? I-”

Before Garrett could respond, Cliff’s roaring bass silenced the boys’ tiff. “Downstairs is the staff apparel room,” he boomed as they reached a locked door on the opposite end of the hall and twisted a key in the lock. “Devon, was it? We have freshly laundered uniforms listed by size and you can find what best correlates with your size. We will meet you back here when you are dressed.”

“Okay. Yes sir! Sounds good, sir!” Devon replied, raising his voice to feign confidence. Garrett grunted in frustration. He wanted to wipe that stupid smug grin off that suck-up’s face. 

Garrett winced as he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. “You’d best follow him too,” Cliff added. “You know better than to dress like that. I’d expect that out of Devon because he’s just showing up to work, but your apparel is usually not this…pedestrian.”

Garrett’s heart leapt into his throat. Why on earth was this man commenting on his apparel of all things? He just got here! And why was he talking to him like he’d already gotten the job? Yet at the same time, Cliff was talking to him like he’d known him for years. “Oh, I uh…okay,” Garrett meekly apologized, acquiescing to the man’s strange claims. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ask the man about his inappropriate hug earlier. “Say, when you said you were proud of me earlier, what did you-”

A marimba ringtone suddenly blared from Cliff’s pocket. He held up his index finger and produced an iPhone from his pocket although his meaty hands made it look like a toy. 

“Sorry Garrett, it’s the caterers,” Cliff barked. “I’ll meetcha back here in 15, alright?” 

“Oh um..I just-”

Cliff had already answered the phone and started walking away, revealing another glimpse at his broad backside. Garrett readjusted his big glasses and sulked. As he watched the burly stranger depart, he couldn’t help but feel some kind of attachment to him: a benevolence of sorts. It was almost eerie how overly-nice he was being, but it seemed earnest. Perhaps he could tell that Garrett was internally sweating bullets just to be here and was being accommodating. At least it appeared that he’d gotten the job without question? Both he and Devon. God, he didn’t wanna work with that doofus, but it appeared he had no choice. He also didn’t want to let Cliff down after all. The man had been generous enough to hire him on the spot. 

Descending down the old, stone staircase, Garrett entered a far less decorated area of the banquet hall. It smelled ancient down here. The air had a decadent, musty odor of men’s colognes mixed with a faint hint of mildew. As he rounded the corner, he noticed Devon was already sifting through a cabinet full of what appeared to be black uniforms. This room looked quite old and was rather charmless, save for a few photos of past galas and smiling well-dressed people on the walls. Something about this place was giving Garrett the creeps, but he couldn’t quite place it.

There was something different about Devon too. Even though his back was to Garrett, his entire outfit seemed a lot more…faded somehow? Maybe the light was playing tricks on him because the jock’s light denim jeans looked much silkier…and greyer in this light for some reason. Unfortunately, the poor basement lighting could not explain the shirt collar that had materialized around the jock’s neck. 

“How do they not have my size?” Devon griped, his back still to Garrett.

As Garrett walked closer to his acquaintance, a hazy feeling filled his head, as if he’d inhaled way too much of the dust down here. The ground started to feel farther away for some reason. “Wait, why are you shorter…than me?” he asked aloud.

“Shorter?” Devon snorted, now spinning around to face Garrett. “I’m not-”

The two boys stared at each other with unspoken shock as Devon’s tall figure began to squash down. He looked down in horror as the tall, muscular legs he used to score touchdowns were quickly reduced to two chubbier-looking nubs. The dramatic truncation left him at a condensed height of 5’8”, six inches shorter than before. His athletic torso appeared virtually unchanged, but his height - one of his most defining attributes - had been cruelly taken from him in an instant. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?” Devon roared, his composure gone in a flash. 

“I-I-I didn’t do this!” Garrett squeaked. If he wasn’t so terrified from Devon’s uproar, he would’ve giggled at his puny height. The jock’s muscular stature looked a lot cuter with his height condensed down - like he was a junior version of himself. “I…promise I didn’t. I don’t even-WHOA!” 

Garrett’s plea was cut short as he promptly shot up like a weed. At one point he’d been eye-level with Devon, but his legs and lower torso just kept stretching taller and taller until stopping at an imposing height. He flailed his arms out for a moment as his new 6’6” body nearly toppled over. It felt like he was walking on stilts! “Whoa! What the heck is happening?” he asked as he placed a hand on his forehead. Glancing upward, the newly-minted lanky sapling of a boy realized he was now only a few inches from touching the low, old ceiling. “No, no, I c-can’t be tall,” he stuttered. From the flabbergasted look on Devon’s face, he could tell he was shocked and quite jealous. Mostly jealous. 

Devon craned his neck up at Garrett and scowled with disgust. “This doesn’t even make any-DUDE, your clothes!” 

“My clothes?” Garrett asked. He glimpsed down and watched as his clothes suddenly started to cascade down his body. The first thing he saw were his t-shirt sleeves gliding down from his upper arms to his elbows until they stopped at his wrists. A pair of French cuffs formed on the ends of his new flowy sleeves, accompanied by a pair of distinct “POPS!” as two golden cufflinks materialized. They were nothing short of glossy, refracting the shoddy basement lighting beautifully. Simultaneously, Garrett’s cargo shorts started shuddering all on their own. They too began to distend further and further to the floor until they rested just above his sneakers. Darkness intruded upon the brown coloration of his shorts, turning them into a maroon and then a vibrant sable. A silky fabric also enveloped the khaki of the cargo shorts, stealing away their bagginess and eradicating the oversized front pockets.  

“What the hell is happening to us?” For once, Devon’s confident voice wavered, giving way to audible apprehension.

“I…I don't KNOW!” Garrett squealed as his new pair of pants was suddenly hoisted up by an invisible force. Or it wasn’t invisible, it appeared to be a pair of brown, leathery suspenders with metal clips that glistened in the light…which had magically materialized over him somehow? They locked in place and pulled Garrett’s pants up around his stomach. The movement scrunched up his t-shirt for a moment before the fabric magically levitated and gingerly tucked itself in, leaving zero wrinkles behind. “Y-you’re s-seeing this too, right?” he stuttered.

“Of course I fucking am!” Devon snarled, his face red with anger and embarrassment. Garrett’s eyes goggled incredulously as Devon’s new outfit looked even more elaborate than his. Gone forever was his grey t-shirt and blue jeans and instead he now sported a long-sleeved dress shirt fit with an array of vibrant mother-of-pearl buttons complemented by a pair of black suit pants. Devon’s new dapper attire accentuated every ripple of his body from his larger-than-average arms and legs. Most interestingly, his belly had a faint bump to it now, like he was bloated or something. 

Garrett was mesmerized as he watched the jock struggle in his new, expertly-tailored clothes. Simultaneously, he couldn’t resist the urge to steal glances at himself and watch as his shirt dyed itself blue and his new dress pants dyed themselves a relaxing shade of light grey. In unison, both of their respective waterfalls of new clothing entered their final cascade. To mark its near terminus, a brand new pair of black suspenders sprung up from Devon’s dress pants. They yanked his pants up high up past his belly button. “GUH!” Devon cried in anguish as the suspenders attached around his shoulders and locked his pants in a painful-looking position. Garrett didn’t dare look for long, but he noticed that the jock’s genitals were bulged up in the pants’ fly as a result. 

“This fucking hurts!” Devon cried, unable to hold in his rage “I can’t even feel my co-o--ock!”

Unlike Garrett, Devon’s clothes had a few more tricks up their sleeves. Firstly, an ocean of black stitching materialized over his pristine white dress shirt. It started at his shirt collar and promptly swallowed up his back and his pecs, until finally stopping just above his waist. Devon’s attempts to undo his tight suspenders were cruelly cut short as a brand new black suit jacket concealed his entire torso. Garrett gawked in disbelief, no longer concealing his curious glances. Devon pulled and picked at his new blazer with much ire. Three buttons appeared in the center of the boxy item of clothing and promptly fastened themselves. Devon’s abdomen and self-proclaimed “rock-hard abs” were concealed by the jacket while the top half of the blazer allowed for a triangle of view of his dress shirt. To complete his new expensive outfit, two black ribbons appeared on either side of his neck. Gracefully, they pirouetted around each other and promptly fastened a tight knot, leaving a spiffy black bowtie just under Devon’s Adam’s Apple. As a final touch, a purple strand of satin formed around the young man’s waist of all things. It wrapped around his obliques and banded over his lower back, creating a brand new indigo cumberbund and finalizing Devon’s extravagant uniform.

To finalize Garrett’s much less-invasive changes, a suit jacket of his own materialized and gently wrapped itself around his upper body. A checkerboard of green and white squares covered the illustrious, new fabric. He moved his arms around in it and was surprised to find that it felt light and breathable. Garrett’s eyes fell back onto Devon, who looked like a deer in headlights. Neither knew what to say. The strangest part was the fact that Devon’s pants were so tight - tight enough that Garrett could even see his balls all bunched up in the front. What was that called again? A camel toe? A moose-knuckle? Devon Kearney, one of the douchiest jocks in school, had an actual moose-knuckle. Before Garrett could stop himself, a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“You think this is fucking funny?” Devon snarled before immediately placing a hand on Garrett’s chest and forcefully shoving him into the wall. For a body three-quarters as tall as it once was, he still retained quite a lot of strength. 

Garrett was petrified. “No, no, Devon, I-”

“This is all your fault somehow!” Devon roared, now inches from Garrett’s face. “Of course, being paired with Garrett Carmicheal of all people would result in some fucking weird nerdy black magic shit!” He tugged at his dapper uniform in disgust. The only remnant of his street clothes was the baseball cap still on his head. “I look like such a fucking dork!” 

Devon was speechless. It was disturbing to see the jock’s unflappable, cocky exterior completely shattered, replaced by flagrant rage. “Devon, I-” 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't pound the shit out of you!” 

“Devon, no…stop!” Garrett stuttered, overcome with fear. 

Then, the strangest thing happened. Instantly, Devon obeyed the command. He released his tight grip on Garrett’s sternum and stepped back in an almost robotic fashion. “Huh?”

“My sincerest apologies, sir,” Devon replied, placing his muscular arms to his side and standing up as straight as possible. He shook his head. “Wuh, why did I…do that?” 

Garrett wasn’t sure how to react. Instead, he just focused on catching his breath and peering down at his disoriented comrade. It was wild to think that Devon, the 6’4” tall linebacker who towered over Garrett in history class, had been reduced to a meager 5’8” height. Even crazier was the fact that he actually obeyed a command. 

POP! POP!

It took a moment for Garrett to realize that the two sharp pings had actually been his top two shirt buttons flying loose. “My shirt…” was all he could say as he wordlessly glanced down at his now, partially-exposed chest. Instead of seeing a flat chest and distinct collar bone, he was surprised to see that his pecs were actually protruding out? And they were still inflating!

“Goodness gracious!” Devon exclaimed before putting a hand over his mouth. 

The two boys could only watch helplessly while Garrett’s chest continued inflating. His pecs were a statement now - two growing muscular slabs, as sturdy as bricks, that tempted with their masculinity. Short, spindly dark chest hairs sprouted up in the center, which had now formed a small chasm. Although Garrett was enticed, he was unbelievably confused. A scrawny geek like him wasn’t supposed to have tits like this! He’d never even set foot in a gym. Or maybe he had? After all, it must’ve taken a decade’s worth of vigorous exercise to get pecs this round and supple. They were so huge that even his nipples had been pushed to the side and had puffed out, now each closely resembling the tip of a baby’s bottle. They were so sensitive too. He could imagine them tensing up every time his French cuffs grazed them or whenever he would give them loving squeezes in private. In fact, he could recall they gave him some kind of unorthodox pride - seeing them perked up in every formal picture he’d ever taken. His bros would even joke and call him Kate Upton because of it. 

Garrett’s cock ascended, and noticeably tented his wool dress pants. Absent-mindedly, he ran a hand through his thick, long hair and parted it to one side - something he’d never done before. Of course, the hair didn’t stick due to the lack of product and instead, it just hung there as a gnarled mess with most of it flattened down and the other half sticking straight up like a porcupine’s quills. “God, what is happening to me,” Garrett huffed as he impulsively grabbed at his bulge. 

“It appears you’re changing, sir,” Devon aptly replied, his voice sounding a lot more monotone. 

“I…I really am,” Garrett replied, his voice nearly crescendoing into a moan as he gave his bulge a shake. “I look different, don’t I? More cleaned up, eh? More prim and proper. More mature, even.”

“T-that you do,” Devon confirmed, stuttering his words as he was forced to swallow a snarky rebuttal. He was losing his will to be a contrarian. Instead, his disposition was becoming far more accommodating and congenial, accompanied by an enhancing vocabulary. “Me too!” he pouted, his monotone voice once again possessing his familiar churlishness. “I hate this tux thing I’m dressed in. I don’t want to look mature! Although spectacular, my regalia is quite oleaginous, isn’t it? GAHH! What am I saying?!” 

Garrett gazed back up at Devon, or rather peered down at him - the fear and frustration was evident on the other teen’s distraught face. He also appeared to have put on a few more pounds somehow. His growing arms and pec muscles took on a far more squishy shape and his tight stomach crafted by years of high school football had a much pudgier contour to it. 

“GUHH!” Garrett roared, at a low register, similar to Devon’s voice, realizing the changes were far from over. Two shockwaves of blood surged through his arms, immediately filling them with volatility. A pair of massive, bodybuilder-sized biceps gradually inflated within the confines of the bespoke twill shirt. Garrett could only watch transfixed as his skinny, noodle arms - the things he’d hated the most about himself - became nothing of the sort. The muscles in his forearms followed suit as they pulled apart and tightened up with protein-laden muscle, becoming permanent, cylindrical-shaped obtrusions in every shirt he would ever wear. Around fifteen seconds later, Garrett’s barrel-sized arms were now tastefully concealed beneath the tight, stretchy fabric of his dress shirt. Mercifully, his golden cufflinks remained intact and undisturbed, their dazzling opulence a necessary accentuation of his rigid wrists. Garrett was in awe. Even his hands looked manlier - they looked more plump and more formidable somehow. His nails were perfectly manicured and his digits must’ve doubled in size, dropping their nimble slimness in favor of a more boxing glove-like shape. 

A wave of growth undulated through his abdomen as it began to slowly extend forward to a similar breadth of his mighty pecs. With it came two distinct pops, but this time it came from deep within his abs. It felt like he was flexing abdominal muscles that had never made themselves known before. To confirm his suspicion, the two pops multiplied into four and then six until concluding on eight square-shaped indentations etched into his abdomen. Bespoke twill felt incredible against his brand new eight-pack. “God, I’m really filling out, huh?” Garrett smirked as an impulsive affirmation to himself. 

“Yes, I am too,” Devon answered nervously. 

Garrett glanced down and the first thing he noticed about Devon was the bulbous sphere that his belly had become. It wasn’t like he was obese or anything, but to call Devon a jock would be laughably inaccurate. This stomach of his had to be at least fifty pounds and it jutted straight out like a boulder. It didn’t sag low like a belly normally would, it hung high and tall, suspended by hidden, rigid muscle. Something told Garrett it would only get bigger.

“AGH!” Garrett yelped as he felt two muscles viciously tingle each of his shoulders before they began to stretch upward. A pair of glorious trapezius muscles flared out, giving him a menacing hood of muscle around his neck similar to a king cobra. Quickly, their immensity made his small, boyish head and mop of brown, unkempt bowl cut look extremely out of place. As Garrett’s trap muscles finished their transition into ones that a bodybuilder would envy, he attempted to turn his head 90 degrees, but found that to be quite a challenge. His neck too had also stretched wider to compete with the overgrown atoll of his trap muscles. Eliminating the soreness in his new muscular neck, Garrett rocked it back and forth and felt his bones and veins snap into place. The process sent a giant tear through the back of his Star Wars tie, whose lopsided Windsor knot had also fared no match for Garrett’s expanding, meaty neck and shoulder. It now hung loosely, dangling precariously over his massive tits about to plop to the ground.

“Pardon me sir, your tie is askew,” Devon piped up.

Before Garrett could react, his portly acquaintance gingerly removed the tie from his figure and was running it through his hands. He blinked and all of a sudden, Devon’s hands were concealed beneath a pair of satin white gloves. Paired with that, his hands looked larger too - like two baseball mitts. 

“What is with this tie?” Devon added, staring at the Star Wars Mandalorian emblems on the tie. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Yeah, it’s my good luck tie,” Garrett replied. “I wore it for…the interview…” He trailed off for a moment as his memories of an interview grew a little hazier. They were both here for some reason, but this seemed like a strange situation for an interview. “Have you always been wearing gloves?” It was a straightforward thing for him to ask, but he genuinely was curious.

“Yeah, it’s a part of the uniform,” Devon nodded although his brow furrowed with confusion over his own comment. It was as if he didn’t know what he was going to say next. 

“Okay,” Garrett replied intently, giving Devon a snide smirk. His cock bobbed in his trousers as he thought of the idea of a football player bending to his whim and being involuntarily supportive. 

Devon’s face didn’t show much more emotion. Instead, he was putting his new man-hands to work some magic on the tattered tie. As he rolled up the tie, the array of Mandalorian emblems began to fade. First, the helmet’s outline faded before diffusing in all directions and melting into the navy blue coloration of the tie. In some miraculous animation, Garrett watched as the colors danced into each other before brightening until they reached a divine, subdued seafoam green. With a firm shake from Devon’s hands, the tie fattened up and lost any trace of its former self. 

“What did you do?” Garrett asked, his heart sunk as his favorite tie from one of his favorite movies was gone forever.

“Hermés,” Devon said, answering a question never asked. “Mint is quite the nice touch for the outfit too.” He handed it to Garrett who just looked at it dumbly. “You know how to tie a tie don’t you?” Devon asked smugly, his voice sounding much more…posh and preppy. “We don’t want that Cliff fellow to be mad.” 

“Yeah for sure,” Garrett replied as he unconsciously wrapped the tie around his collar. In only a few seconds and a few deft maneuvers, his hands nimbly created a Windsor knot. 

“I taught you well,” Devon applauded, his eyebrow crooked as he dissected his statement. Still, his mouth continued its whimsical dialogue. “You can tie a tie as fast as I can tie my shoes. Or at least as fast as I used to be able to tie them.” He gestured at his bass drum of a belly and chuckled at himself. 

Garrett couldn’t help but snicker too. Devon’s bubbly nature was somewhat infectious. It was kind of hot - imagining the portly ex-jock catering to his needs, but also being a genuinely nice person. That would be a nice change.  

“Isn’t that better?” Devon asked. A faint panic still permeated his eyes, as if he wasn’t sure why he was asking these questions and indulging Garrett like this. 

“Yeah,” Garrett smiled with a conceited grin as he ran a hand through his floppy, greasy mop of crumpled hair. The movement caused more strands to flop down successfully, causing them to be quaffed straight back as if they were drenched in gel. Garrett didn’t pay it any mind. He just enjoyed how perfectly his mint tie complemented the checkered pattern of his blazer. This nearly-gaudy attire - he wanted to hate it - but he couldn’t. It accentuated his muscles perfectly! Oh yeah. His muscles. “I feel like a million bucks!” Garrett said with an honorary flex. 

“Good, good,” Devon jovially replied. In accordance with his jolliness, a new layer of fat formed around his stomach and stretched out his resplendent tuxedo even further. A wave of compassion and maturity overcame him, replacing his adolescent panic. Looking at a burgeoning young stud like Garrett made him feel…proud in a way? It made him feel oddly paternal, as if their ages were different or something? “You have to look your best for your special day,” Devon added, before grimacing at how cringe he sounded. Still, it felt eerily correct to assist Garrett with his newfound sartorial knowledge. 

“My special day?” Garrett asked before smirking once more. “That’s right. It…is my special day. I just can’t remember why.” 

“Me neither,” Devon admitted. His adolescent rage towards Garrett had faded completely. It was impossible to get mad a young, promising stud like him. Instead, he glared down at his new rotund body ruefully. “I look like a fucking gumdrop,” he pouted as he poked and prodded at his round belly and pecs. He craned his stubby neck to see that even his broad, hulking thighs made his dress pants look vacuum-sealed. It reminded him of wearing padded football pants. His chest was ridiculously huge too - his pecs were like two airbags resting atop a giant, protrusive boulder. Thankfully, his pecs didn’t sag like other older men’s man-boobs often did. They just hung there, taunting Devon with their undeniable stoutness. It was enthralling in a way - the idea of his cannonball-shaped stomach on display in every shirt he ever wore. That made him feel so…mature, like a father figure of sorts. His corpulence, unapologetically masculine, equally disgusted and excited him. At least his plump body looked well-dressed and concealed perfectly by this uniform. Devon could picture so many men his age, or…his father’s age, who didn’t know how to dress themselves - the type to have the undersides of their bellies exposed in public and who wore thin, ill-fitting t-shirts with visible, nasty sweat stains. Devon felt some strange pleasure in the fact that his clothes were tailored just for him. It made him feel much more…powerful that way. This well-dressed, paunchy body of his was an extension of his own masculinity. 

Garrett was lost in his own self-indulgent thoughts as he inspected his own chest. He gave his nipples a tweak and winced at how sensitive they were. Rubbing the back of his meaty hand against the expensive fabric, he could feel a  God, he loved being a man. A huge, hunky, muscular, young, confident man. One whose body jutted out in every direction in his formal clothes - kinda like Devon’s did, only Garrett’s were far more perky and traditionally attractive. He’d never clamored over his body like that before. It was quite the rush - a premonition of his constantly evolving virility and an extension of his own masculinity. 

“Wait, do you hear that?” Garrett asked abruptly, causing Devon to return back to reality. The two of them froze and sure enough, they realized that there was now an abundance of noise emanating above them. A faint bassline and drums could be heard accompanied by a moderately-loud chatter of people conversing. “There’s people upstairs.” 

Devon turned white as a ghost. “Oh no, oh shit dude, people can’t see me like…like this!” he cried, holding up his pudgy, balloon-shaped belly in rife disgust. 

“Yeah, you look like a blimp,” Garrett chuckled. For a moment, he almost regretted saying it, but his fear of Devon was dissipating. They were equals now - no longer bound by archaic notions of a teenage hierarchy. 

“Manners please,” Devon retorted, primping his suit. He didn’t appear to be that offended by the comment though, considering he didn't give Garrett any vicious retaliation. In fact, he seemed to be captivated by his tuxedo jacket. “My coattails. They nearly stretch to the floor!” he said with dopey astonishment, stretching his neck to inspect the way the coat draped over his pot-bellied frame. “They kinda look like a superhero’s cape. It’s quite…marvelous, isn’t it?” 

“Whoa, your voice! It sounds British!” Garrett laughed. “Would you like some tea and crumpets, governor?” 

Devon was not amused. “Sir, please,” he huffed, far more displeased than angry. “I don’t think it’s quite appropriate to make fun of my accent. I surely don't mock you for your deep voice.”  

A twinge of guilt pulsed through Garrett. If a jerk like Devon could learn politeness, surely he could too.  “Right, right, I’m sorry,” he said, completely oblivious while his voice lost its teenage squeak in favor of a commanding, baritone register. “I guess I never expected a football player to act so formal.” The voice that Garrett now had sounded like it belonged to a male country singer rather than a raspy 18 year old. 

“Football?” Devon gasped. He could recall playing it for a brief moment, but the memories of it all came crashing down instantly. Like a piece of paper being incinerated to ash. A man of his rotund stature certainly wouldn’t be the greatest at the sport unless he was an offensive lineman. “I have…never played football before,” Devon said, almost in a state of shock as the words left his lips. “I wouldn’t be too fast on the field. Not with a belly like…OOOFF…like this.” Without warning, fifty more pounds were piled onto Devon’s stomach, causing him to look like even more of a portly freak. This monster gut looked ready to rip free from his uniform at any moment, but thankfully it had swiftly stretched with his beastly proportions to prevent that. 

“Oh yeah, that’s right, it’s not called soccer where you’re from.” 

“Huh? I…oh yes, that’s quite correct.” Devon’s head was spinning. His definition of the sport was changing. Football was nothing like it was here in the States. It was a far less violent and barbaric sport in the U.K. but most importantly, it was an excuse to get a pint with the lads and watch his favorite team whenever he went back home. Or wait, wasn’t this home? Everything was getting fuzzy. 

Garrett was feeling the same way as he zoned out for a moment, gazing down at his sophisticated clothes. Or rather hunky, sophisticated body - the clothes were just an extension of himself. “Well, I think we should head upstairs and talk to that Cliff guy and maybe he can help us.” 

“Ah Cliff, what a fine gentleman!” Devon perked up, like a robot coming to life. His deep, Welsh accent teeming with merriment. “Yes, let’s!” 

Garrett tried his hardest not to snicker as Devon led the way. His bouncy, blubbery figure certainly didn’t move the way it once did. At first, he clearly was trying to move at the speed of a highschool quarterback, but his gait was reduced to a sluggish waddle. Something else had also changed about Devon. It was his back - which looked quite broader for some reason. Paired with his angular shoulders, his upper body was turning into quite an imposing-shaped rectangle. For a man of smaller stature, his figure was still quite imposing. 

“I’m sure everyone is waiting to see you.” Devon said merrily as he reached the wooden stairs.

“Ah that’s right,” Garrett replied and a burst of dopamine suddenly hit his brain, promptly inhibiting any more questioning of their predicament. It was his special day. Being the center of attention was something he craved - people all gathered around him, listening to him talk in length - it was like adrenaline to him : a formative adrenaline. He cherished all the accolades his hulking muscles would receive. From friends, from family members, from romantic partners. After all, he’d put in years of hard work!  

Garrett was aghast as he walked up the steps behind his paunchy companion. Devon already had the tight, muscle butt of a high school quarterback, but the ascent up the staircase immediately began shaping it into an enormous cushion that was impossible to ignore. With each step upward, his glutes flared outward in all directions, stretching his wool dress pants like lycra. Inflating like balloons, Devon’s mountainous asscheeks lost some of their muscled firmness. They rhymically bobbed up and down over and over, indicative of their increased fat concentration. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, two mounds the size of basketballs and as wide as pillows had replaced Devon’s former ass. He appeared to be none the wiser as he turned sideways for a moment and readjusted his cummerbund.

Garrett froze. His cock had risen to full mast and he hated it. Illuminated by a single overhead light, Devon’s mammoth figure cast a marvelous silhouette. The equal breadth of his glorious, distended stomach and protruding suited buttocks were so oddly compelling. And stupidly erotic. Then again, Garrett had been hard since the changes started…or for the past hour while he’d been getting ready. Yeah. That was right. Dressing up always got his hormones firing. 

“It seems like only yesterday you had gotten into college,” Devon reminisced as he turned his stubby neck up to Garrett who climbed to the top step. 

“College?” Garrett asked. He hadn’t even graduated high school. “I don’t think-”

“Look at yourself, Garrett, ” Devon boomed. The newfound sagacity in his voice sent a shiver up Garrett’s spine. “You’ve really changed from the small, precocious lad you once were. You heed advice and apply it into your own life. In university and in bodybuilding. Why, I remember when I used to be larger than you. Hah hah hah! That’s not quite the case anymore, is it?” 

“Bodybuilding? College?” Garrett was dumbfounded. Two retrospections ran parallel in his brain. In one, he was a teenage misanthrope who would much rather keep to himself and his hobbies while another, more forceful side of him savored the attention of being a heartthrob, junior bodybuilder. He craved it, actually. He wanted to loathe the feeling, but he couldn’t. Everything around him was spinning out of control so beautifully, but something told him that this was a very good thing.

“Why yes,” Devon replied, “We’re all so proud of you. You have that ambition that’s going to get you very far in life.” His voice cracked a bit. “I wish I had more of that when I was a lad.”  

Before Garrett could stop himself, he’d already wrapped his arms around the portly man.  Given their height difference, he’d had to lean down slightly, but he didn’t even realize he’d done that. Devon quickly reciprocated and a mutual wave of growth radiated through the two of them. It was a weird burst of unbridled sympathy the two had never felt for each other once. But it was real. 

Firstly, Devon’s belly gained a final thirty more pounds, swelling larger than a yoga ball and tight as a bass drum. At one point, he’d competed in bodybuilding competitions just like Garrett was…or was going to. But now, a stout aging man like Devon much preferred to possess a distended, glorious muscle gut formed from decades of hard work and newfound relaxation. His body type was truly one of a kind - he had to make his own custom clothes for it too - and nothing made him more enthusiastic that Garrett appeared to be following the same fate of growing gigantic. Finishing its inflation, Devon’s belly pressed tightly against Garrett’s abdomen, which was starting to shrink in exchange. Any remaining pudge Garrett had was trimmed away and repurposed into a lean, X-shaped of a competition-ready bodybuilder. His nonexistent butt also began to change, promptly losing its shapelessness as it inflated into two boulders. His rear was only around three-quarters the size of Devon’s, but it had equal strength. Garrett had an enormous, perky muscle butt formed by nearly a decade of strenuous squatting and consistent training. In tandem, Garrett’s slender thighs beefed up, becoming a set of poles that could effortlessly support his hulking frame. Subconsciously, he rocked back and forth on them and the new muscles tightened into pillars as thick as stone. 

“Thank you,” Devon replied as the two pulled apart. His eyes were glassy and his face had a myriad of more pronounced lines on it now. He was so happy now, happier than he had ever been from his life as a football player. Being a British butler, a man of superlative etiquette, and passing eclectic style and machismo onto a man like Garrett - that was his new purpose. “You’ve become the man deep down that I knew you always could be.”

“Of course,” Garrett smiled. He felt like his heart was going to explode. While studying Devon’s new venerable face and more mature sunken eyes, he blinked and all of a sudden, his baseball cap disappeared! Not only that, Devon’s head of vibrant blonde hair had vanished too, leaving behind a faint horseshoe of hair. He pictured Devon as having a younger, boyish face in his head, but those memories were crinkling away as he looked into this new, mature man.“Your…your hat,” was all Garrett could say. 

Faint wrinkles texturized themselves around Devon’s face as he smiled. “Yes, the bowler hat felt a little unfitting on a very formal occasion like this.” 

“No, you were wearing a…” Garrett trailed off, immediately forgetting that a bald, astute gentleman like Devon would ever wear a baseball cap. That seemed too…juvenile for him. Whenever he did wear a hat, it was usually a top hat or something. Even more paralyzing to Garrett was the fact that this man in front of him didn’t feel like a stranger anymore. He felt like a family member. Like a mentor of sorts. It made sense. After all, he’d known Devon his entire life. A hazy memory traveled through Garrett’s brain. He could remember being young, back when Devon had a full head of hair and he’d wanted so badly to impress him. Now he had and the family butler couldn’t be more proud. Wait, family butler? That seemed correct for some reason, but it make any-

“Have a fun night, kid,” Devon smiled, uniquely giving the words a staccato affectation with his charming British accent, as he opened up the wooden door to the banquet hall. 

Bright lights inundated Garrett’s corneas, like he’d stepped into heaven. When his eyes adjusted, he could make out around what appeared to be one hundred or so people occupying the previously vacant hall. Their attire was ritzy - like nothing Garrett had ever seen. Women adorned with beautiful, stylish dresses paired next to men dressed up in bespoke three-piece suits of various colors. A multitude of tuxedoed waitstaff were maneuvering in between the crowd of affluent guests. All parties involved seemed to be engrossed in pleasant, light-hearted conversation. 

Seeing them all sent a tidal wave of fear through Garrett and the same teenage nerves he thought he’d banished inundated his brain. “Devon, there are so many-”

He turned, but Devon had already begun conversing with a crowd of five male waiters nearby who were dressed in identical tuxedos. He wanted to chuckle at how Devon’s cartoonishly massive butt eclipsed his view of the men he was talking to, but he couldn’t. In his peripheral vision, he could see people start noticing him. All the confidence he’d once had vanished instantly replaced by his familiar teenage nerves. He hated crowds - hated them so much. And now here he was trapped in the middle of one of the largest ones he’d ever seen. 

Just as Garrett took his first step forward to try and slink towards the wall, he nearly collided with the silhouette of a huge, imposing man who nearly knocked him to his feet. Luckily, his reflexes were quick and he jumped back on his heels. 

“Vince, there you are!” thundered the familiar, lofty stranger. It was Cliff - his interviewer of all people? He also looked more put together than before. His massive pecs were thinly concealed by a tight dress shirt preventing any chest hair from peeking through. At his side was a breathtaking entourage of beautiful guests, a group of men wearing flashy, velvety suits and a group of women wearing extravagant, ruched dresses. “We were wondering what was taking you so long!” 

“Huh? My name’s not-” Garrett stopped. His deep voice, almost as low as Cliff’s, startled him and reminded him how manly he sounded. Before he could analyze it, two new heels abruptly shot out of Garrett’s sneakers, launching him a half-inch higher into the air - allowing him to become eye level with Cliff - the man who’d previously towered over him. He wanted to tremble, but there was something so comforting about the older man’s face. It made him feel seen. There was a broad, beaming smile on Cliff’s brick-shaped jaw, emanating the same sage-like reverence as Devon had. 

“There’s the man of the hour!” another well-dressed man around three-quarters the size of Garrett exclaimed. By this point, the group of guests had swarmed all around him, rendering any chance of escape impossible. His heart felt like it was going to explode out of chest, from stress and a weird, weird sense of familiarity with these people, especially one of the men in front of him. His face was devoid of wrinkles and his forehead devoid of furrows. Must’ve been a lot of Botox. Even his hairline mirrored Garrett’s, which was impressive given he looked to be in his sixties or so. “Put ‘err there, Vince!” the dapper stranger exclaimed, extending out his hand. 

Garrett acquiesced, not wanting to be rude. He didn’t realize how clammy his hands were until they were against this man’s dry ones. “Thanks, Uncle James. It’s so good to see you,” he replied before flinching at his weird, automatic response. 

The man didn’t seem to care about being Garrett’s uncle. It did seem to make sense though. He looked like Cliff, only a few years older. “Look at that! He already got himself a Rolex! Lookin’ sharp, son!” 

“A…what?” Garrett looked down at his right wrist and sure enough, there was a watch with a rich, emerald hue that looked nothing short of expensive. Upon further inspection, he realized it was the same green shade as his preppy checkered blazer and it had the same eye-catching shimmer of his cufflinks. Fuck. That turned him on for some reason. Luxury. Power. Being all dressed up. “Yeah, doesn’t it have a marvelous sparkle to it?” Garrett added, unable to contain his excitement. His voice sounded different now - a little more pompous. He was really holding the vowels of words in his mouth for longer now. It reminded him of the rich kids from his high school. Wait, where did he go to school again?

A lady in a lavender velvet dress holding a bubbling glass of champagne spoke next. She used big gestures to the group, as if she was showing Garrett off like a trophy. “Our son - the Yale graduate,” she declared, her voice sounding as proud as Cliff’s and as proud as Devon’s. “I can’t believe he finally did it.” 

“Top of his class too!” Cliff added, sipping on a glass of scotch. “Don’t forget about that, Pauline.” 

“Of course,” the woman smiled. “We never doubted our son for a second.”

“Graduated? From Yale? No, I’m…” Garrett sputtered as the final realization hit him. This was a party. All for him. And Cliff and Pauline. They were…his parents? That didn’t seem right, but Garrett had trouble recalling any other alternative. He could recall glimpses of his upbringing in opulent rooms, going to high-class events and developing a sartorial affinity. He now truly felt like an adult just like them. His parents’ positive words echoed in his head, filling him up with joy. For the first time in a long time, Garrett felt proud of himself. His memories of a recluse were fading while recollections of being a valedictorian and relaxed, sociable young athlete took their place. 

“Looks like he’s been hitting the gym at the same time!” Uncle James piped in. “What’s your current weight?”

“280,” Garrett replied and instinctively performed a front lat spread to the group who all laughed pompously. 

“Don’t get him started,” Pauline replied with a playful tap on Garrett’s shoulder. 

Another man spoke up who looked muscular too, although not as muscular as Garrett. “Even during football, you were never half this size. You really took to bodybuilding during college! I can’t believe I’m looking at the same kid!”

Garrett beamed with pride and his posh accent swallowed up his old one completely. “Once I knew football wasn’t in the cards for me, I decided to take weightlifting more seriously and it really helped me.”

“Isn’t that great,” one of the ladies in the crowd smiled. 

“He sure takes after his old man!” Cliff smiled, wrapping his arm around his equally-strapping son. 

Garrett froze as he fully took in the breadth of his alleged father. For lack of a better word, he was just so manly. Even being a man in his fifties, he still had some incredible size to him. He must’ve been sixty pounds heavier than Garrett, which was nothing short of impressive. Cliff’s cerulean three-piece suit looked ready to rip off. Garrett could recall some strong feelings about that: the idea of getting to a massive size where all of his suits had to be custom-made to contain his sheer width. He could faintly recall a short, plump man measuring him with yellow tape as he crafted measurements for him.  

Holy shit. That man was his family butler. The one he’d just seen earlier. What was his name again? Acrid guilt pulsed through Garrett’s head. This butler had been with his family his entire life and he couldn’t even remember his name. Even Garrett’s own name was growing harder to remember, but he knew one thing for sure. His name certainly wasn’t Vincent. 

“Any refills on champagne?” chirped a familiar ebullient voice. 

“Yes please, thank you Reginald,” one of the ladies chirped back as the butler filled up her tall glass. 

Garrett turned and sure enough, his family butler was right there: Reginald Chapman - a 400 pound intimidating colossus who was actually a kind-hearted giant. 

Garrett tried not to laugh. This whole situation was so far-fetched. It reminded him of that one Rick & Morty episode where the family in the show had gained memories of a butler who they thought had always been part of their family. But this situation was different from a silly cartoon like that. It wasn’t like Reginald lived with them although he was over at the house working full-time. Hell, he’d even gone on family vacations with the Atkinsons. He’d even brought his husband along. It had been a strange sight - seeing the family butler and his equally-large middle-aged husband on the beach, but it had been illuminating. But still, Reginald had his own life. He was simply the Atkinsons’ staff member. A lifelong, steadfast one at that. Happy to cater to Garrett’s needs whenever necessary and give him advice on life and bodybuilding. It seemed weird to have a private butler, but not for a family like the Atkinsons who were filthy rich. 

For a moment, Garrett found that somewhat exciting - the idea of a massive man catering to his needs, but it wasn’t weird like that. Even with his portly figure, Reginald had been quite an inspiration for Garrett to take bodybuilding seriously. He’d wanted to grow - to get as big as one of his idols - a kind-hearted Englishman who was like his second father. In fact, it had been a conversation on a Bahamian beach with Reginald and his burly partner Oliver that had made Garrett realize he was bisexual - a whole separate epiphany.  

“I assume the college grad over here needs a fresh glass too!” Reginald piped up, producing a clean wine glass for Garrett. He poured the perfect amount of the liquid into it and smiled. “He’s truly one of a kind isn’t he?” 

The group smiled and laughed in agreement. Garrett took notice of the other patrons in the background who were also turning his way. Reginald had the volume of a foghorn after all. In the crowd, Garrett could make out a few guys and girls his age - some of the friends from college. Some of them were really attractive. This really was quite the celebration. And it was all for him.

“Dom perignon, sir,” Reginald smiled, handing Garrett the glass, his fifty-six year old face glowing with adulation. 

Garrett took a sip and smiled - the expensive liquor tasted incredible. He swore he could feel the bubbles fizzing in his mouth after he swallowed. 

“Raise your glasses, please!” Reginald boomed. The guests immediately obeyed, all with smiles on their faces as they stared warmly at Garrett. “To Vincent Atkinson!” Reginald thundered as the background chatter quieted down. “A young man who has changed my life as much as I hope I’ve changed his!” 

There was that name again. Garrett wanted to reply, but instead a warm, compassionate feeling overcame him. He was touched by the sweetness of the family butler - a man who inspired him every day. 

A cheer from all of the guests echoed through the banquet hall. They all took a sip except for Reginald who just warmly smiled. “Have a glorious night you all,” he said with a bow of his head before swiftly walking away to tend to other patrons. That’s right. Reginald was on the clock. That enthusiastic, diligent butler. Garrett watched as his plump body bounced within the confines of his long, dangling coattails as as he sidled over to another crowd. 

“Vince has grown up so fast!”  chimed in a male patron as the chatter started back up. “He’s sure got that Atkinson family chin!”

“Wait until he gets those Atkinson family veneers!” chimed in another who received a chastising shove from his wife. 

“Family…chin?” Garrett mumbled as he felt a bubbling sensation emanating from the bottom of his face. It was the weirdest feeling, like someone was popping bubble wrap under his chin. The final piece of him was changing - his face. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to see it happen in real time. He just had to. “Excuse me, please,” Garrett said before promptly darting away before any patron could stop him. With each distinct footstep, his dress shoes grew more and more glossy, echoing throughout the opulent hall. Luckily, he located a bathroom nearby and promptly slunk inside, but not before feeling his broad shoulders scrape against the sides of the old, wooden doorframe. Garrett skulked to the mirror a panicked, breathy mess and promptly froze with disbelief at his strapping reflection. 

Everything about him was huge. Unbelievably huge.

He turned to his side and ogled over his humongous chest and back jutting out in either direction. Even his biceps looked prime to rip right out of his checkered suit jacket. Lower on his body, his bulge and tight, muscle ass also jutted out from his midsection, quivering with his movements, both exuding undoubtable manliness. Now in complete privacy, Garrett’s cock rose back up to full mast. His body - it reminded him of Cliff’s - his new father - unyieldingly masculine and provocative. He was burning up under this sexy yet stifling outfit his butler had picked out. 

“I’m an Atkninson,” he said to himself, eager to look like just his father - his idol.

With a distinct set of cracks, his stubby chin erupted forward, immediately doubling its width and acquiring a brand new shovel-shape. Any awkward half-grown teenage facial hair vanished with it, endowing Garrett with a clean-shaven, spotless chin accompanied by the subtle aroma of expensive aftershave. Next his lips inflated like two balloons, puffing out to an extremely kissable level. His teeth straightened and became a pure shade of white. Transfixed by his reflection, Garrett watched in wonder as his unsightly pimples and zits were eradicated from his face. In one swift blink, his eyes changed from hazel to a bright blue accompanied by a slightly thicker yet attractive nose. Propelled down by an invisible wave, Garrett’s unkempt bowl cut was finally subdued and all of the long, strands shortened to a preppy, professional length. An expertly-placed layer of gel coated the young man’s greasy brown hair, slicking it back in an instant, taking off a few inches with it. 

“Mmm fuck,” Garrett huffed as he swore he felt a gust of air rush over his head. A glorious tidal wave of bright blond hair came next, swallowing up his old bushy brunette forever. He wanted to be mad at how preppy he looked, but it didn’t make sense why. This was how he’d dressed his whole life. 

“I’m an Atkinson,” Garrett repeated, hard as a rock while he watched his boyish features mature ever so slightly, eradicating anyone ever mistaking him for a teenager ever again and aging him up in a man in his early 20s. That wasn’t who he was after all. Everyone was here tonight for his college graduation. 

Garrett was treated to a final, illustrious animation of his altering face in the mirror as any remaining “Garrett-hood” he had was eliminated. His hairline pulled down slightly making his forehead less prominent, his eyes grew a little closer together, and his ears shrunk ever so slightly. And then as if Garrett had been staring at some magic-eye poster, it all clicked into place. His handsome face looked just like a younger version of his father. “Fuck yeah, I’m…Vincent Atkinson,” he trembled, his voice rife with anticipation. 

That utterance - it sent a shockwave through Vincent. In an instant, an invisible sonic boom erupted through the room. It forced down his eyes and locked all of his handsome new attributes in place - never to be taken from him. Simultaneously, his rock-hard cock became flaccid. When Vincent reopened his eyes, he was left staring at his reflection in the mirror and there was a watery sheen over his aquamarine-shaded eyes. He was on the verge of crying for some reason? He blinked a few times and the tears only welled up further in his eyes. The lifetime of Garrett Carmicheal disappeared, replaced by a brand new handsome stud. Forever. 

The instant Vincent’s mind transformed, the bathroom door flung open and in stepped a familiar, enormous man. 

He flinched. His eyes were still watering. Why wouldn’t they stop? Why did he feel so sentimental all of a sudden? 

Vincent’s father’s stern face immediately softened as he sidled up to his son. “Hey, hey, it’s alright to cry at these things, Vince,” he soothed his father as he wrapped his tree trunk of an arm around his son’s shoulders. 

Vincent sighed and a single tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it. The emotions were so much. He couldn’t believe what he’d been through. All of the schooling and now this - a graduation: which felt like the destruction of his youth. “I don’t even know why I’m crying,” he admitted, his voice hardly trembling. “It’s just so much. I can’t believe I’m like…like a real adult now.”

“It’s alright. Sometimes the emotions can be too much to endure. Come on, bring it in,” Vincent’s dad said, pulling his son in close for a mighty bear hug, which was immediately reciprocated. Immense strength radiated between the Atkinson men as they squeezed each other tenderly as hard as they could. The immeasurable comfort of his father - the man who had helped shape him into the confident, buff specimen he was meant to be - was so much to bear. An involuntary whimper escaped Vincent’s lips as he rested his head on top of one of his father’s strong shoulders. “I love you, kid. I’m so proud of you. We all are!” Vincent’s father added as the two released each other. He wiped a tear of his own from his own face and exhaled. 

“Thanks dad,” Vincent replied before coughing and standing up straight again. He sighed and re-flattened one of his French cuffs - obsessed with the idea that his clothes were just an extension of his masculinity. Formalwear was always such a confidence-booster. Reginald had helped inspire that in him. “I think I’m alright now,” Vincent smiled. “I really needed that.”

“Anytime,” Vincent’s dad replied and the two of them headed back to the bathroom door, their two muscular butts both wider than the doorway. “How’s it feel to be a graduate?”

“Incredible,” Vincent smiled. “Like the world is at my fingertips.” 

[gunilslaugh]

Just Joking? Jiseok Ending

Kwak Jiseok

Summary: It’s been days since the hangout, but Jiseok sees that you’re still acting off. It greatly concerns him. (non-idol au)

WC:~2.2k

Warning:none

Read first part here

photo not mine credits to owner.

Jiseok texted you the day after the hangout to see how you were doing, but you didn’t respond to him. He didn’t pay much mind to it, figuring that you were probably still not feeling well and would get back to him when you were feeling better. 

It was two days later when Jiseok finally heard back from you. He didn’t realize how worried about you he really was until he felt a wave of relief wash over him when he saw your text message appear on his phone. “I’m ok” your message read. Jiseok felt like something was off. Your text was normal, but that’s what made it weird. Usually the text exchanged between Jiseok and you were more animated. Pertaining emojis, typed out faces, caps lock (with and without reason), too many exclamation marks and so on. Your most recent text seems so dull, sad even when compared to the other text before it. It gave Jiseok no reassurance that you were actually doing ok. In fact it made him believe the opposite. You must still be unwell. 

Jiseok sends you a text asking if he could come over, saying that he would bring you your favorite snacks. 

Back in your bedroom you sat crisscross on your bed, looking at Jiseok’s text. A slight smile tugged at your lips as more of his text popped up one by one. “You know you want me too!!!” “You disappeared and made me miss you 😔” “ I’m coming whether you want me to or not ❗”

Your fingers started tapping on your phone’s keyboard. “Hurry up! I want my snacks!!” You sent. 

A bright smile appeared on Jiseok’s face when he received your text. It was much more like you and actually gave Jiseok some reassurance that you were ok. Jiseok went to his cabinets and grabbed some of your favorite snacks that he keeps on hand. If ever asked about why he keeps your favorite snacks in his cabinets he states that your favorite snacks are also his favorite snacks, so there is nothing weird about them being in his cabinets. They may hold true to most of the snacks, but there is this one snack that Jiseok doesn’t particularly care for, however he knows that you like it. So yes he grabs it occasionally when he sees it and keeps it for whenever you come over or he brings snacks to you. 

Jiseok indeed did hurry over to your place cause a mere ten minutes after you told him to hurry over he was at your apartment. The light rapid knocking on your door altered you to his arrival. You made your way to your front door and opened it, revealing a happy Jiseok, holding up the promised snacks. You smiled at him and stepped aside allowing him in. Jiseok took a big step into your apartment. He’s quick to make himself comfortable as he splays the snacks out across the coffee table you have sitting in the middle of your living room. You followed behind him, taking a seat on the floor right in front of the table. 

“You must have been pretty sick? You disappeared for days,” Jiseok states. You felt slightly awkward. Not really knowing what to say. 

“Uhh yeah,” you chuckled. Jiseok immediately picked up on your shift in behavior. 

“Why are you acting off again?” His lips pouted. “Did something serious happen?” Jiseok’s eyes filled with concern. His eyes scanned over your face to try and read how you were feeling.

“Nothing exactly happened. I just…nevermind,” you dismissed, leaning forward to grab some snacks.

“No, tell me. I don’t like seeing you like this,” Jiseok says. You shook your head, not wanting to talk about it. Jiseok feels a bit frustrated that you won’t talk to him, but he’s not going to force you to talk when you don’t want to. “Ok, but you can always talk to me. You know that right?” he checks. 

“I know, thank you,” you tell him. You and Jiseok tended to have a bit more of a playful type of friendship, but when things got serious you were always there for eachother too. 

“The aquarium’s new exhibit opens up on Saturday,” Jiseok changed the topic. 

“It does? I forgot all about that,” you say. With your whole crisis about realizing that you had romantic feelings for Jooyeon you had completely forgotten about the new exhibit. 

“Yeah it does. Do you still want to go together?” Jiseok asks. 

“Of course I still want to go.” You playfully nudged Jiseok with your elbow. 

“Ok, it’s a date. I’ll pick you up and we can go together,” Jiseok tells you. It’s a date, these have been harmlessly thrown about between the two of you. However you find that hearing them this time feels a little different. It reminds you of all the times you said those words to Jooyeon or vice versa. Jiseok’s cool hand pressing against your forehead snaps you from your thoughts. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re spacing like you did at the hangout.” He looks over you trying to find any hint of illness. You remove his hand from your forehead. 

“I’m fine, Jiseok. I’ve just been feeling tired lately.” 

“Then stop feeling tired, you're worrying me.” Jiseok took a hold of your shoulders and shook you lightly. His actions make you laugh. 

“Stop worrying. I’m ok really,” you grabbed onto his elbows, making him stop shaking you. 

“I’ll stop worrying when you tell me what’s wrong or start acting like your normal self,” Jiseok states. 

“Who knew you’d be so caring?” you remarked sarcastically. 

“I care about you the most.” Jiseok pulls you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, but then it slides around your neck, putting you in a loose headlock. “Sneak attack!” he shouts and begins to attack your side with tickles using his free hand. 

“Ah! Stop! Stop! Stop!” you heaved out between laughs. You repeatedly tried to smack his hand away. Jiseok’s hand stops attacking your sides. He feels a bit reluctant to let you go though. You’re the one who ends up pulling away. Jiseok stayed over at your place a little while longer before leaving. You find that you felt better after your visit with Jiseok and you looked forward to going to the aquarium with him on Saturday. 

Saturday rolled around and you excitedly got ready. It felt refreshing. It was probably the first time in a week that you felt good. You weren’t thinking about what you were supposed to do with your feelings for Jooyeon. Instead you were looking forward to Jiseok’s arrival and spending the next while at the aquarium. You were double checking your outfit in the mirror when you heard the familiar knock on your door. You left your bedroom and headed to your front door. 

“You look nice,” Jiseok complimented you. 

“Thanks, you too,” you returned. 

“Shall we?” He playfully bent his elbow for you to link yours with. 

“We shall,” you just as playfully linked your elbow with his. The two of you walked out of your apartment, keeping your elbows linked. 

When you arrived at the aquarium your elbows were still linked together. Honestly, you don’t know how they haven’t separated yet, but you somehow found a sense of comfort in them being linked. You liked knowing that Jiseok was right by your side. Jiseok liked having you right by his side. He looks at you beside him, rather than the fish swimming about behind the thick glass.​​ The way the light streaming out of the glass lit up your features in the dimly lit room. 

“Jiseok look! They’ve gotten more sea turtles since the last time we were here,” you pointed out excitedly. Jiseok feels his heart skip a beat. He doesn’t look at the sea turtles, only you. You looked so happy. Jiseok wanted to keep making you happy. He knew something was bothering you lately. As much as he wishes he knew what it was he wishes more that he could keep you happy like this. You pulled Jiseok along with you into the next room. A more well lit room and as Jiseok keeps staring at you he realizes, he’s seeing you in a new light. He said that this was a date as a joke, but now it’s not a joke. He really wants this to be a date with you.

“Jiseok,” you called him, finally noticing his staring. 

“Yeah?” he broke out of his fixated gaze. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” you questioned. 

“I want this to be an actual date,” he admitted. You take a step back in shock. Resulting in your elbows finally unlinking

“What?” you say. 

“I called this a date as a joke, but I want this real one,” he stated. 

“Jiseok, don’t joke around like this. I really don’t like joking about dates or whatnot right now,” you said. 

“I’m not joking y/n,” he firmly tells you. He is also intrigued by your last sentence. You used to joke about going on dates with Jooyeon all the time, so don’t you like jokes about going on dates now?

“So what? You just realized that you like me all of the sudden?”

“Yes, I just realized that I like you,” he says confidently with a nod of his head. 

“How can you say it so easily? I realized that I liked Jooyeon and have been having a crisis over it for like a week now.” You let your feelings for Jooyeon slip. 

“That’s what got you acting off?” he questioned, not really paying attention to the fact that he told you he liked you and you told him that you liked someone else. 

“I- I… just feel really stupid about it,” you revealed. “Like I liked him the entire time. I was never just joking. How could I not know how I felt?” 

“I just realized that I liked you. It doesn’t make me stupid and it doesn’t make you stupid either. Feelings are weird like that. I guess the main thing would be, are you going to tell Jooyeon how you feel or not?” Jiseok put to question. You didn’t like his question. 

“I don’t know,” you told him honestly. 

“Do you want to?” he rephrased the question. 

“I’d feel weird doing it now when he’s with her,” you tell him. 

“Then don’t tell him right now, or ever,” Jiseok laughed lightly, causing you to give him a weird look. 

“I just told you that I like you. I don’t necessarily want you confessing to someone else,” he explained. It didn’t even really set in until Jiseok said that he confessed to you. You had to take a moment to think about how that made you feel. You never thought about Jiseok like that before. Granted you didn’t think you thought that way about Jooyeon either, not until previously. 

“You like me,” you said as if you were testing it out. Jiseok laughs. 

“Yes, I thought we established that already,” he joked. 

“Why?” you questioned. Again Jiseok laughs. 

“I’m not sure. I just know that I want the one who makes you happy and be someone who you can rely on,” he tells you sincerely. You find that you don’t mind looking at Jiseok in a different light. 

“You already make me happy,” you tell him, taking a step closer.

“Then can this really be a date?” Jiseok questioned with hopeful eyes. He reaches his hand out. 

“My feelings for Jooyeon are still a mess right now, so I think I still need some time, but going on a date later with you sounds nice too.” You take his hand. 

“I wait then.” He squeezed your hand reassuringly. 

Jiseok and you were heading back to your apartment. You didn’t see that a piece of pavement was slightly raised causing you to trip on it. You let out a small yelp and held onto Jiseok’s arm to balance yourself. 

“See you’re falling for me already,” Jiseok remarked as made sure you were ok. His joke makes you laugh, lightly hitting his arm. Jiseok then relinks your arms together “to make sure you don’t fall again”. In reality he just likes the feeling of you right next to him, but you don’t say anything because you like the feeling of being next to him too. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait a minute. When did this happen?” Gunil gestures to you and Jiseok all cuddled up on the couch. 

“A couple months back when y/n and I went to the aquarium I realized I liked them, so I told them,” Jiseok told. 

“And you just realized you liked him back?” Gunil said. 

“No, I made him wait a while then I agreed to date him,” you said. Your words didn’t make Gunil feel any less confused. 

“We’re in love. You don’t need to understand. Let us be.” Jiseok shoed Gunil off. You can hear Gunil muttering to the others about how the heck did you and Jiseok end up together. It didn’t really matter how you two ended up together. What mattered was that you and Jiseok couldn’t be happier and never want to be with anyone else. 

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails

Wanna read alternate endings?

Just Joking? Seungmin Ending?

Just Joking? Jooyeon Ending?

[musette22]

There was a post a while ago about Chris as a caregiver and I remembered that Sebastian mentioned in a video call with Don that he was so exhausted that he properly collapsed at the end of the year (might have been 2021 or 2022, I believe) and I can just imagine how worried Chris would have been. Like we were worried when he mentioned months after the fact but can you imagine how worried Chris would have been when it happened and how much he would have pampered Sebastian to get him back to full strength? And then probably scolded him for working too much and driving himself to this.

PS. Please do correct me if I'm remembering this wrong because it was a while ago. I just remember it was an offhand mention during a zoom call

Hi my love!! ❤️ I'm so sorry for taking a while to reply to this, but thank you so much for your message! Uhh yes, I love thinking about Chris being a bit of a motherhen and taking care of Sebastian 🥺 Not because Seb can't take care of himself, he absolutely can, but just because Chris is always there for him, and cares about him so much that he can't stand by while Sebastian works himself into the ground, as he's said he's prone to do sometimes. I don't remember the exact instance when Sebastian mentioned this either, but I also recall him saying something like that during a zoom call once.

There is no doubt in my mind that Chris would have dropped everything the minute he realised just how exhausted Seb was, he would've been so so so worried 🥺 I imagine him stocking up on all of Seb's favourite foods and forbidding him to get up off the couch except to use the bathroom and reading to him while Seb rests his head in Chris's lap, stroking Seb's hair with his free hand, maybe even calling his mom once Sebastian is asleep, just to tell her how worried he was and to ask if she has any tips for him, because he's never dealt with a situation quite like this before, and definitely not with someone he loved this much 🥺❤️

Yeah, I can definitely imaine all of this, nonnie (just as I can imagine Sebastian pretending to be exhausted for a little longer than he actually is, because he likes being doted on by Chris even more than he thought, and especially because he can see how much Chris loves talking care of him ❤️)

[searsage]

-PDA/message transmission: Time: 0437-06/22/*****-

Robin: SAM! SAAAAM  HELLO? ARE YOU AWAKE?

Sam: Robin..? Why in the devine hell are you texting me this late?!

Robin: Oh good you're awake!

Sam: Now I'm awake, it's 4am...did something happen?

Robin: What? Happen... Like what?

Sam: I don't know anything, Something bad..? Throw me a bone!

Robin: Ohhhh! No...but YES!

Sam:...What? Robin you're not making sense..

Robin: Stop talking so loud he's sleeping, you know they hardly do that..?

Sam: I'm not talking loud, I'm texting you god damn it! I'd ask if those architects switched your brain out for a chipmunk's but you've always texted like you were half in the barrel of helium poisoning...

Robin: What!? Rude!

Sam: Why are you texting me in the middle of the night Robin!?

Robin: Oh! Right-right! So..like he's bigger than I thought... like I only reach his chest.

Sam: Is that bad..? Should I be worried..?

Robin: Oh..well no, it's ok I guess. He wants to take me on a tour of the planet, it's not the worst idea, it's kind of gorgeous here, even if it's mostly water.

Sam: That sounds fun...so why are you on the phone at 3 am..?

Robin: Right! I'm getting there, stop rushing me! I asked him about the whole intimacy inquiry in his ad, he claims it wasn't necessary to be compensated for my time.

Sam: That's GREAT! It would have been a deal breaker really, at least you know he's a freak but not that type of freak.

Robin: Haha..yeah...but like..

Sam: Like what..?

Robin: He's not so bad, kind of stuck up and awkward but knowledgeable when it comes to the wildlife here.

Sam: Uh-huh..well just make sure he doesn't try any funny business, you're there to keep him company and aid in his research so..he better not get any ideas.

Robin: Trust me he doesn't seem interested really, far too enthralled by the alkaline levels in the water!

Sam: Oh he's that type of nerd..

Robin: Yeah.

Sam: Jeez i almost feel bad setting this up, seems like you're going to spend the next month licking stones.

Robin: Hey! That's a valid way of testing sodium levels

Sam: Yeah. For a moose!

Robin: You're...not wrong. Ok i'm going to go to bed now

Sam: Ok keep me posted, let me know if i need to fly there and kick his shrimpy architect ass

Robin: Oh his tail! It wiggles sometimes! Usually when he's startled or excited! It's really cute if I'm going to be honest here..

Sam: Shut up, I need some sleep!

Robin: I'm texting remember!

Sam: Oh for the love of god!

Robin: Your words not mine!

Sam: Just be careful and get some sleep.

Robin: Okay..and Sam..?

Sam: Yeah?

Robin: Thanks for setting this whole thing up, I was really in a pinch, it means a lot..."

Sam: Sure Robin, anything for my little sis. Love you too, good night"

Robin: Night..

-PDA/message transmission: Time: 0313-06/27/*****-

Robin: SAM!!! SAAAAM GOD DAMN IT BE AWAKE NOW!!!

Sam:WHAT what?!  Where are you!? Are you okay?!

Robin: Saaaaaaam!

Sam: Are you in serious danger or something?!

Robin:Huh? Oh! no, I'm fine...physically...

Sam: Then why the hell are you spamming my phone at 3 am in the morning Robin?! You almost gave me a heart attack!

Robin: Oh sorry.. I just needed to talk..

Sam: Okay, about what? is everything ok..?

Robin: No, Not really..

Sam: What happened? Was it something with Alan? Was he being a creep?! Damn it! Do you need me to pick you up? Because I will! Just say the word.

Robin: Uh...no, it's...nothing like that...really.

Sam: Then throw me a bone here Robin! You've been acting strange as hell tonight...I'm worried..

Robin: I...I we..uhh...I slept with him...

Sam: You WHAT?!

[themuffin2649]

More Scenarios based off Idea Scrap 1

—————

1. Inconvenience

Vincent and Leon are texting in the dead of night. MC is able to take control of the body since Leon went to bed.

Vincent: “Hey Honey, how’s it been?”

Leon: “It been fine, Leon’s parents keep asking him if something happened to him, but nothing too suspicious. Although I do wish he’d come out during basketball practice sometimes. I can shoot for sh*t!”

Vincent: “That’s a shame, he comes out in the most inconvienet moments. Although he normally does that in the first place.”

Leon: “That’s rude!”

Vincent: “What? It’s true.”

Leon: “You’re so mean.”

Vincent: “Anyways, enough of him, I found this bar we can go to this Saturday. You free?”

Leon: As he was about to send “yes” to that statement, he felt him coming back and repossessing the body.

Leon: “Ugh… who the?! VINCENT?!”

Looking at the contact he once cursed at speak in flirtation, he knew that he possessed his body once he went to bed, cause he would never say this to him. He only woke up to repossess his body since he felt a disturbance in his sleep.

Leon quickly deleted the “yes” about to be sent and told Vincent to “f*ck off!” before blocking his number. He then changed the passcode to unlock the phone so that he doesn’t text him again.

Meanwhile, in Vincent’s bedroom

Vincent: “Ugh! Always at the most inconvenient times...”

William: Oink!

~~~~~

2. Uncle

Vincent is having dinner with his Uncle Victor, but he’s gotta act natural

Victor: “Vincent, I just got your report card back, all your grades are good but you’ve been falling behind very recently. Is there something you would like to tell me?”

Vincent: SHOOT! I don’t know why Vincent has been slacking off recently. I can’t tell him the Yandere crap he’s been doing! Think think think!

Victor: “Vincent, are you alright?”

Vincent: “uhh…”

Victor: “Has something happened in school?”

Vincent: Oh! School! Got it! “Yeah. It’s about what my friends did behind my back, the messages they said, using me for my money…”

Victor: “Still upset about it?”

Vincent: “I guess so… I mean, you don’t just get over something like that in a day. I guess I’m just trying to catch up…”

Victor: “Ah.. I see. You see… when you have money, power. You have to be very careful. Because many people will only see you for how they benefit themselves.”

Vincent: “…..”

Victor: “I’m sorry you had to learn the truth the hard way.” He says, offering a hug for support.

As awkward as it was, MC had to play along and went over to hug Vincent’s Uncle. As they were about to hug Vincent repossessed his body the moment before they made physical contact.

Vincent: uhh, why are we hugging?

~~~~~

3. Whoops…

Newt: “Hey Big Bro, can you cook us up something for tonight? I’m starving.”

Leon: “Of course Little Bro!”

Newt: “Thanks!”

MC heads to the kitchen and takes a deep breath.

Leon: “Ok, it’s just an omelette with a recipe to follow. Nothing too bad should happen—”

1 kitchen fire later

Leon: blowing out the last of the fire with the fire extinguisher “Ok! Crisis averted! Sure kitchen repairs will take a sh*t load out of mom and dad’s wallets, but at least the whole apartment didn’t go down in flames as well.”

Newt: “Leon, I know it’s you right now. Stop pretending to be my brother when cooking, we both know he’d never let it get this bad.”

Leon: Ah sh*t! Leon’s not actually in control right now.

—————

[ineffablemossy]

A Message For Hell (1,670 words)

Day 3 of Flufftober / Good Omentober 2023 (thanks to @flufftoberand @disaster-dog for the prompts) Prompts: Wait, you love me? Always have // Hell

This is better viewed on AO3 where there's a workskin for the chat sections, but if you insist on reading it here, well here you go!

---

There was a thumping on the door. Crowley sighed and scratched his neck absentmindedly.

“What is it now?” He said. The door squealed on its hinges and the plants shivered. Crowley shot them a cold look. A demon with sculpted textured hair popped through the narrow opening, eyes lowered to the floor.

“Uhh, excuse me Your Lordship, Sir, Mr uhh, Mx Crowley, Sir…” they rambled.

“S’just Crowley, none of that palava!” said Crowley, cutting off the demon. “Eric, was it?”

“Yes, Your…Crowley,” Eric nodded, “there’s a… Um.. a message? For you?”

“What is that a question or a statement? What do you mean message? From whom? ” Crowley drew out the last word. Eric shuffled their feet and lifted their head to meet Crowley’s hard yellow gaze.

“I can’t say exactly, we haven’t read it you understand seeing as how it's addressed personally to you Sir, uhh, Crowley. But it came through on the Minitel you see. And as you know the human network was decommissioned in 2012. The only other devices still connected to this one would be yours, back on Earth, and well you’re here so it can’t be you.” Eric attempted a small laugh that died in their throat. “And the other one is in… Heaven, Sir.”

Crowley rose to his feet in one smooth motion, slamming his fists onto the surface of the black marble desk. His heart raced, hairs prickling up his arms, his mind roiling with thoughts of his last day on Earth. 

“Heaven!” He spat the words out. “You’d better bring it here then hadn’t you!”

Eric flinched and nodded their head. They opened the door wider and pulled through a small wheeled trolley with an old beige plastic box sitting on top. The enclosure housed a convex screen, small by modern standards, and a small keyboard attached to the bottom edge. The screen glowed with white letters. Eric wheeled the device to the desk, carefully lifting it up onto the smooth black surface in front of Crowley, who watched every movement intensely. Eric stood back, hands by their side. Crowley glared at them, exasperated by their very presence.

“Yes very good, now run along with you,” he said through gritted teeth, waving them away. Eric squeaked and half ran out the door, clanging it behind them. Crowley collapsed into the chair, letting his body relax. He felt a pang in his chest and closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath. He leaned forward and looked at the screen, covered in one word: ‘ Crowley’ . Somehow it looked like handwritten text, despite the Minitel not usually having that capability. But not just any old handwriting, it was his perfect copperplate hand. The pain in his heart spread, searing into his lungs that squeezed, their cage suddenly too small. And under the bitter pain of rejection and loss, a tiny flame of hope sparked into life. He tapped on the keyboard to open the message and held his breath.

The screen blinked. Then it let out a little buzz and the pale blue cursor hopped along.

Heavenly1941: Crowley, are you there?

The cursor danced on the line below, waiting for a new entry.

“Don’t remember being able to do that on this thing,” he sneered, “maybe Upstairs got an upgrade.” Crowley hesitated, his fingers above the keys. What if this was some cruel trick, from the angels or even his own lot. He had to be careful.

Bentley666: I’m here.

A few seconds passed before a reply appeared.

Heavenly1941: Oh, thank goodness! I wasn’t sure this old thing would still work. Or if there’d still be a connection between us.

Heavenly1941: THEM, I meant them. The consoles.

Bentley666: Seems to be working alright.

Bentley666: Who is this?

Heavenly1941: It’s me. Aziraphale. I thought you might have realised that.

Bentley666:  Never good to assume, Angel.

Heavenly1941: Quite, you’re correct of course. As usual.

Crowley could almost hear the angel’s clipped diction through the screen. It seemed unlikely anyone else would know it well enough to imitate. He rested his head back, all the things he’d wanted to say since their parting jostling for space in his mind. In the end, the wound he’d been nursing overtook the others.

Bentley666: What do you want?

Heavenly1941: I want to apologise if you’ll allow it.

Bentley666: You think an APOLOGY will

Bentley666: I mean. What could you possibly want to apologise for? You chose your side. You made it QUITE clear. And you also made it quite clear that I, as I am, as I have always been for the last SIX THOUSAND YEARS, am not part of that side.

Heavenly1941: That’s exactly it, my dear. I was wrong. I was so incredibly, stupidly, ridiculously, blatantly, despairingly wrong. If you don’t mind I have quite a few things to write out, please be patient with me.

Bentley666: Alright Angel, I’ll wait til you’re done.

Heavenly1941: Thank you my dear. As I was saying, I was wrong. It was all too fast. You know how I like to take my time over things, mull them over. Well, I couldn’t and I was still so excited from the Ball and the fight at the bookshop. I felt like I could control the situation. But that was wrong of me, I should never have tried to control you, of all people. I realise now I shouldn’t have tried to control our neighbours and fellow shopkeepers either. I got rather carried away.

Bentley666: You can say that again.

Heavenly1941: I got rather carried away.

Bentley666: You idiot, I didn’t mean actually say it again.

Heavenly1941: I know dear.

Heavenly1941: I suppose I’m trying to say that I know it all sounded awful and I was very hurtful to you. And now I’ve had time to think properly this is what I wanted to say, even though it came out all wrong.

Heavenly1941: You have always shone the brightest of us all, you are singular among all the ethereal beings. When you were cast out, the light of Heaven dimmed, and the strength of Hell multiplied. But mostly, the lot of the Earth improved immeasurably. You were wronged, but it forged you. And our long years on Earth have tempered you, as they have me I now realise. We have both become something other than the angel and demon that we were. And it’s true I already adored you back then, before Eden, before the Fall. But you were not yet the demon who walked the Earth with me. The one who has guided me, helped me, and tempted me throughout all of human history. The demon who I’ve fallen in love with a little more with every passing year, every elicit rendez-vous, every cherished note, every fleeting touch.

Heavenly1941: I will not say I don’t want you to change. Because you have and so have I. And I have loved every part of you along the way and will embrace every change you pursue in the future. What is life if not eternal movement and change? But I do not want you to change FOR me or FOR Heaven. Please forgive me for having said otherwise.

Heavenly1941: There is one thing I said that day which was true and accurate, and that is that I do need you, Crowley. I truly do. All I do is drudgery without you. Please, is there a way we can be together in a way that suits us both?

Bentley666: Wait, Angel?

Heavenly1941: Yes, my dear?

Bentley666: You love me?

Heavenly1941: Crowley darling, I always have.

Heavenly1941: I have one final thing to say but it may take a moment. Please hold.

Crowley sat back from the desk and shifted, crossing and uncrossing his legs. What had started as white hot anger had dissipated, now a light buzzing in the back of his head. In its place, bubbles of relief tried to push through, mixed with a roiling feeling in his stomach. He had felt what the humans called butterflies many, many times with Aziraphale. This felt like the butterflies were as big as seagulls, and a hurricane was blowing them around inside him. His hands shook and he felt tears running down his face, creating tracks down his neck to his shirt collar. He took a steadying breath and swallowed, then something appeared on the screen.

On the dark screen a white square appeared. The group of pixels shifted to an approximation of a person, with two arms, two legs, and a halo above a head. Mouth open and brow furrowed, he leaned forward in anticipation. The figure moved this way and that, text appearing underneath

You were right You were right I was wrong And you were right

Heavenly1941: Are you still there?

Bentley666: I’m here Aziraphale.

Bentley666: Can you meet me somewhere? London?

Heavenly1941: I’m afraid not. I’ve had to find a way to contact you privately, secretly, if you see what I mean. I think they’d notice if I left.

Bentley666: Right, I’m coming up. Where are you?

Heavenly1941: Do you remember that storage cupboard in the stairwell?

Bentley666: How could I forget? Right, I’ll join you there.

Heavenly1941: Thank you! I have some Ideas to sort all this out, but I’d really like to hear yours.

Heavenly1941: I can’t wait to see you Crowley.

Bentley666: Don’t think I’m letting you off so lightly. You’d better be prepared to repeat all this to me in person. So I can watch you squirm. And you are doing the Dance. PROPERLY.

Heavenly1941: Oh, I’ve missed you, you foul fiend!

Bentley666: So have I. I’ll be up in 10 minutes.

Heavenly1941: Wonderful!

Bentley666: Angel?

Heavenly1941: Yes darling?

Bentley666: I love you too.

Crowley flicked the off button and lept from the throne. His heart hammered in his chest and he felt his cheeks ache from his wide grin. As he swaggered through the corridors, every fibre pulsing with energy, confusion spread among the lesser demons. Seeing someone happy in Hell was a first for them all.

[bubble4u]

Hiiiii I'm back 👉👈 I wanna ask about the polyship on what type of parent they are??

Hello uhh hands anon??? We'll work on that lol

Idk if you want HC or short drabbles..... soooo por que no los dos!! (why not both). Also side note when I say their kids I'm meaning ALL the kids taijus,souths, mitsuyas combined.

Taiju: pure definition of a somewhat busy parent everytime you see him he's taking a call, he's answering a message or he looking over stuff. Now he's by no means neglectful so anytime there's a parent teacher conference he's going, every good grade he'll praise every bad grade he'll go over stuff so that way next time itll come easy, he wants to be a proactive parent cause his father sure as hell wasnt.

Just.... not the open houses cause by God if he's gotta meet another teacher who is either scared of him or trying to get something out of him hes staying home.

"Taiju shiba! You cannot make me go alone to the open house again!" you were trying to get your foot in your sneaker, frustrated at the blue haired male lack of somewhat decent clothing for the open house that was in the next hour. Taiju looked up from a packet he was reading seeing the piles of papers on his desk you knew it was gonna be a late night "you seemed to have forgotten the other two who share a bed with us love" "you know what i mean shiba every year you stay home and every year I get a call from the office cause of the tall man wandering off with our kids" he sighs rubbing his temple's "yeah and half the time it's cause tereno is trying to get the children to leave school early". You crossed your arms glaring dagger into his resting face, he sighed "please love I don't wanna go ok? Every year it's the same thing and last year I was close to pulling our kids out of the school" you bit your bottom lip remembering how one of the parents from the PTA mother kept pestering mitsuya for a "favor" in exchange they'd helped your child get into being their clubs president. You put your hands up in surrender "ok tai I hear ya but please don't forget to submit your ID into the front office so they know who you are" "so am I dad one or dad two?? Or am i bumped to three" he smirks watching you roll your eyes heading out of his home office.

South: he not like a regular dad he's a cool dad 🤣 he tries so hard to be a cool dad wanna be with the hip kids (his son cringes). Even though he wants to not only be his kids friend he knows there's a line, he will attend the meetings and the open houses but do not call him if say his kid was in a fight ESPECIALLY if it's one they didn't start and finished victorious he'll be too proud to not show it "that's my future heavy weight champion carrying on the name already" let's just say gave major side eye.

You turned the page, situating yourself again while trying your best to not annoying mitsuya as you laid your head in his lap. His cell phone started to buzz and not caring to look he answered "this is takashi" you turned your attention to the one sided conversation, mitsuya face turned from concerned to trying his best to keep in a laugh "yes ma'am that is their father". Book now forgotten yiu couldn't help but muffle in your laugh as well "yes ma'am I understand the form says I and Mr shiba are a parent as well" "yes well if you want we can go into detail on HOW we know the child tereno is picking up is his child" you covered your face you're not gonna survive if this keeps up "well I assure you ma'am my partners will be made more aware next time we fill out the forms granted we never had problem before" "Alright thank you". After he hung up he could see your shaking figure, you both looked at each other and just laughed "be prepared south may call to tell you about today they must've hired some new staff" you nodded.

Mitsuya: I don't wan a call him a helicopter parent.... but he's a helicopter/gentle parent he's gonna be there when he can and when he can't he's always reassures them that even though he's not there for the plays or sports games he knows that you did your best and that he's proud of them. He's another who LOATHES open houses on that particular day he's like a monk and will take a vow of silence and just ignore anyone who isn't important, he's dealt with his fair share of moms and dads either trying to get something out of him or wanting something from his partners. He is another who would wanna pick up the kids early just to go somewhere fun.

[errorwarblesrr]

I'm terrible with coming up with conversation topics, especially on the fly, but uhh uhh uhh who is your favourite link and why are you correct for it being wind waker <3 (wjajdhsk no it is an actual question. I feel like a more interesting question would be who's your favourite Zelda and why, so maybe answer that instead? Idk I just hope college is kinder to you soon u_u <3)

Thank you for the ask and the last message. I really appreciate it 💕💕💕 (I hope so too lol)

I can answer both questions >:]

Well, you already know my favorite Link, it's Wind Waker lol. I don't think I have gotten into why he is my favorite, though. I've always been drawn to silly characters so he kinda just perfectly fits that criteria. I was just naturally drawn to him at this silly little guy who is constantly expressing himself. I found though that the more I thought back on Wind Waker the more reasons I find to like the little guy. I enjoy how impulsive he is, especially when it comes to saving the ones he cares about. On that note how he genuinely just wants to help people, I know the "haha he's a pirate now so he's gonna do pirate things" is fun, but he is genuinely a good kid. There's a sidequest where he stops a thievery and the ONLY correct dialogue options have him be kind and compassionate, but he admits that he is honest and calls himself "an ally of justice!". To my knowledge it's one of the few times there is correct dialogue so I'm choosing to believe that's canon compared to something like Skyward Sword where you can get the same results from different paths of dialogues and options if that makes sense. I think it's cute how he and Aryll have matching bracelets in their outset clothes (no one else has these on outset) he's apparently a fasionista too so I'd like to imagine he made those for her or they did it together. Uhhh okay this is getting too long and I'm just rambling so tldr

This is very rambly I'm sorry. Maybe one day I'll do an actual more thought out post lol.

For my favorite Zelda, it's definitely Spirit Tracks. A Zelda who is actually with us the whole time and plays an active role in the story while growing as a character and has a charming personality? Yes please! I genuinely she is the best Zelda no contest. We first hand get to see her grow from someone who wanted nothing to do with the adventure to playing an active role and even seems excited to take the step in the adventure. It's hard to talk about Spirit Tracks without bringing up the Link and Zelda dynamic but they are really the best duo out of all of them imo. It's def not as noticeable or big as Zelda's arc but Link does have an arc of his own and it's definitely in part because of Zelda. They both help each other grow. Enough of that though since this is supposed to be about Zelda. I think it's great how even though she is a lot more feminine than Tetra she still has that sass showing their connection. On that note her femininity isn't a weakness and rather they play it up for comedy but not in a way they are making fun of her for it if that makes sense. Idk tldr

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

you think about it….friends? i mean, you guess the two of you could be friends so you agree to be his friend but that’s it. you’re not sure how this “friendship” will work but he needs his daily dosage of you and if you think he’s not going to keep tabs on you then you’re surely mistaken.

the next day, you proceed like nothing happened. you even work at a coffee shop with your friend yerin because she was too nervous to apply by herself but you both ended up getting the job.

you still go to school and take care of your mother but with your side job, you’re racking up as much money you think will be enough to pay jungkook for all of the things he bought/done for you as a “thank you.”

right now, you and yerin are goofing off and a young man by the name of kai finally gains the courage to speak to you after a long going back and forth about it.

“hi y/n”

“hi kai. want another cappuccino?”

“yes, i mean, no. i uh…i actually wanted to ask you for your number”

“my number? uhh, i’m not really interested in dating at the moment”

“that’s fine. can we still talk as friends?”

you get a sense of deja vu when kai asks if he could be friends and since you don’t have a problem with the offer, you give him your number as a friend.

and as a friend, he walks you to and from class. he even buys you coffee; kai overall is a sweet guy and his crush for you is so obvious.

so obvious that it pains jungkook to watch the sweet interactions you share with the young man who touches you, hugs you, and even has the audacity to speak to you.

its been so long since the two of you last talked and you’re out being your cheery awkward self that he loves so much. he misses you a lot and he would give anything to have you smile like that for him again.

so, as friends, he asks if you would like to accompany him to a fun bowling alley in seoul where everything is glow in the dark. you’re a bit reluctant but you say yes and you inform him to swing by your mother’s house to pick you up. “my mom misses you 🙄” you sends to jungkook and he laughs at the message.

baby steps…small baby steps.

it’s 6PM and jungkook knocks on your mother’s door to come pick you up and of course your mother is ecstatic to see jungkook’s face again. “where are you two going?” she asks and you roll your eyes at her silly antics. “we’re going bowling. i’ll be back later, mom. love you” you tell her with a kiss on the cheek.

“love you too, tuts. bye jungkook. you two be safe!”

the car-ride to the bowling alley was awkward and even when the two of you arrive it’s awkward. it’s like you don’t know how to function with jungkook as your friend because he’s never been seen as your friend. it was sugar daddy then boyfriend, he was never your friend.

impressively, jungkook is really good at bowling. often getting strikes and spares while you barely manage to hit one pin. the ladies were gawking at jungkook who surprisingly looked a lot more laid back than his usual business attire look.

he looks like he’s your boyfriend and you look adorable yourself.

an oversized shirt, biker shorts, and shoes; something simple but the outfit it pretty cute. the two of you compliment each other and frustratedly, you struggle to hit more than one pin.

“ughhhh! how are you so good?” you whine and jungkook just chuckles at your mini tantrum. when the game restarts, he gets behind you and shows you how to bowl. the first time, you don’t hit any pins but by the second time, you start hitting a few pins. you even get a spare.

“hold on, i’m getting pretty good at this! i might be better than you jungkook” you smirk and now he’s not taking it so easy on you anymore.

you both laugh at each other and it feels like the two of you are in a relationship again and he just looks so damn goooood. “i got a job” you bring up catching his attention. “it’s at a coffee shop and it’s pretty nice” you say but he already knows. he knows about everything, including kai.

“i’m hoping i can save up money to pay you back. even if it’s just a little. i want to pay you something for all the things you’ve done for me and my mom. i can’t thank you enough for that”

Jungkook pretends to be shocked when you tell him about your new job. “Oh wow yn I knew you could do it!!! Congratulations, Princess.” He quickly steals a glance at your face, while pretending to focus on the pin ball in his hand.

Of course, he’s still going to call you his princess because that’s what you are to him. “wait what do you mean?” What you say next actually shocks him. He looks up at you surprised. “what? Why would you pay me back?” He tsks.

“Yn… this is what I love and hate about you. Listen you don’t have to pay me back for anything and if you do, I would be really upset. Your mother is like my own mother… and I love you that’s why- ugh never mind but just don’t pay me back for anything, please.” He says softly.

“are you having fun with me?” he asks, looking at you with his sparkly eyes. “tell me are you hungry?” he licks his lips. He notices your appearance once again and damn.. do you look good.

You look so pretty like this. And he has missed you so so much. He wishes that everything could go back to just like it was.

But yes, he hast to take it slow and he has to be patient.

“Come on!! There is a very good restaurant in this lane!!! I’m pretty sure you’re gonna love it!! let’s go.” You can protest he takes your hand and walks out after paying.

You both sit in the car and he starts to drive.

“And… how have you been doing? Anything special happened other than the job?” he knows everything but he wants to know from your own mouth.

He wants to see if you will lie to him or just tell him the truth

[genshinboys]

hi! i’m happy to see that you’re back and even if u’ve decided to stop posting stories i just want to let you know that i truly love ur fics so much, everytime i reread ur stories they ignite a spark in me that makes me feel so giddy and happy! ur stories come up in my mind sometimes and it makes me so happy + they’ve raised my standards in men too! u’re such a good writer and ur stories will always be one of my favorites and one of the best fics i have ever read! so yeah i just wanted to tell u that cuz u deserve it! always remember to take care of urself, stay safe, and stay hydrated! thank you so much for bringing these fics into my life and goodluck on any future challenges that u might face! 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

🥺🥺🥺

You made me feel all soft and I got teary eyed. Uhh... The main reason why I stopped posting stories is that I'm very busy and with my working schedule I found it very difficult to sit down and write, like my brain after work is mush and I can't produce any cohesive sentences at all 😫😫😫 that only leaves the weekend for writing and for a long time that's what I did but then I noticed that I had been losing myself to write a story that people don't event want to reblog or that they simply give me little to no feedback. Yes, I'm aware my stories get lots of likes but at the end of the day it's all about feedback and interaction with my followers. Even now, having so many of people who follow this blog, you're one of very very few who decided to contact me and tell me directly you enjoy my writing. At some point it all felt overbearing. I spent so many hours working my butt off to get disappointed over and over again. And please don't get me wrong, I'm extremely grateful and happy you decided to tell me how you feel about my stories! 💛 I just wanted to give you some insight why I stopped writing them.

Love you and thank you again for that sweet message 🌸🥺

[alligaytorswamp]

hello! oh gosh its been even longer sence last ask i sent- uhh saw your chongyun x bennet drawing!! love the details so so cuteee and how they look at eachother? melting-

i know i dont owe you anythijg but sorry for being so bad with remembering to send in asks, im not much in kaeya circle stuffs with genshin anymore. honestly moved a lot to kaveh lol. but thats not a good excuse for sleeping on good art.

also!! am better at drawing now mabey! so if youd like and you let me id love to draw you chongyun and bennet again? mabey actually get the cuddles done with kaeya and childe? idk im honestly dont really know what to message here has been wile-

lastly reminding again cause yes, but make sure to take care of yourself!!!!!! enjoy something that youve been wanting to do this week! and also get good hours of sleep :>

p.s. if wanted to see refrence for arts can do am figuring out editing and getting all my arts tageed good mabey yes idl bye have a wonderful week riqbcuabfuqhfushdubqidqbcihsicbqjd

welcome back :] thank you so much!! glad ppl like that drawing i was lowkey scared bc it's so specific and it's a rare ship no would care lmaooo

yeah you don't own me anything so i'm not accepting any apologies bc you have nothing to apologize for! and asjkdhasjdhla lucky you ig! finding new men! not sure if i ever was in 'kaeya drawing circle' in the first place, but i def haven't drawn him much as of lately. also i am a big fan of kaveh too B) my trifecta consists of him, baizhu and kaeya aksjdhasjkd

ah im so happy for you, i kinda peeked at your art tag, and ye u totally slay B) good for you!!

thank u thank u and all back to u, stay epic and have a great week <3

[eidolonightmare]

will make an acc soon when i can !!!! you use so kmany big words ur like a wizard casting spells . i like the last one the most , i dont know how to read with rhythm but it still sounds cool . i can imagine the few like music ppls i like singing it :3 very talented !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

and i will most definately have you help me learn french in the future idf we are friends !!!!!! also THANBK YOU for the list i will take them thru out the night and let you know what i get :DDDDD i love quizzes tysm !!!!!!!! see for me i think i could listen to it and (maybe) read it well but NOT write and not speak ?? that goes for all languages tho

THE LAST TIME I WAS ACTIVE IN YANBLR WAS 2022 (I THINK) WHERE I HAD MY OWN ACC AND THEN SUMMER OF THIS YEAR WHEN I JUST KINDA LURKED LMAO , I WAS TOO SCARED TO MAKE POSTS BECAUSE THERE ARE A LOT OF POPULAR USERS I DONT LIKE AND I DIDNT WANT TO RUN INTO THEM OR THEIR MUTUALS , now i dont care AS MUCH but i still dont like a couple of them tbh

and i have no idea when i graduate . like none uhm .... im also homeschooled (/neg) so that will definitely contribute to if im even like able to . iiiiiiiiii have a slight feeling i might end up dropping out once i am seventeen sdjekjrfr but its okay . will live my house dog dream ^___________^

and i took computer science and i failed it ! so LMAO , U HAVE MY CONGRATS . my neocities is also bland-ish because i REFUSE to use iframes , FUCK that .

and yes i am currently replaying pkmn legends . this might sound silly but ive never finished a pkmn game . tbh story based games bore the hell out of me JDNFIJSRFIERK I CANT STAND TO PLAY THEM . THERYE FUN TO WATCH BUT BESIDES THAT BLEGH

i dooooont have much else to say tbh :P am very sleepy and tired and i doooont really like the tumblor ask system FNWEJFKWJRFK , u can msg me if you want /nf BUT THAT MIGHT BE AWKWARD ???? i dunno dude my social skills are comparable to like . i dont want to say an ant because ants have like tons of interactions but like . i dunno maybe a worm ........ do worms ,,, are worms talkative ? i mean im talkative i just dont know what the fuck im saying . also i think thats kinda funny because i am LITERALLY a dog and yet i have no idea how to interact with anyone or anything , but that is okay , im like one of those dogs who have their like "person" i guess . idk what the fuck im talking about dude .

anyway uhm YEAH feel free 2 msg me if u want but you dont have to because i ammmm not sure if it is an appropriate time to ask so . uhh u do what YOU want yes . yes . OKAY BYE BYE TAKIUNG UR QUIZZES - ALEX THE THE THE MAN BOY DOG WOLF CANINE IDFK MAN

sorry if this response is kinda dry i am Tired. but i wanted to respond.

alright awesome!! heheheh thank you i suppose. thank you! ^_^ i'm glad you liked it!!!

hehehe yippee awesome...!! great great i'm excited to see what you get. i hope you have fun taking them! yeah i get that. that happens to me, too. i think you just have to practice more when that happens honestly... and get more input so you feel more comfortable.

ahh yeah i get that lmfao. one of my friend's exes is on here and i have an ex on here so i'm trying to avoid them and their friends... lmfao. and another person i don't like. real.

oohhh yeah. i wouldn't recommend dropping out if it's possible for you to not because that's going to make things harder for you in the future but i won't judge you if you do or anything. because school is really hard T_T. dog house dream!!

fair tbh!!! some parts of that class were rly hard for me so i understand why that might happen T_T. also real. i just can't figure out how to make it look cooler; maybe i'll work on it some more.

yay awesome. also that's totally fair.

okie that's alright!! i'll message you then ^_^ hehe that's fair. i think i understand what you mean though idk how to describe it either, lmfao.

alright :D i shall message you. yippee taking my quizzes!! ^_^

[neldorethsnymph]

Hey!! I'd like to try the game;

First of all a very big thankyou to you for your kindness and this opportunity!

My question is what would I mean to my fs!? My name- Jasmine ✨ Zodiac-Capricorn ☀️

Take care>33 sending lots of love and energy 🦋

hey! you are so sweet, thank you 🌞

wow... you are all the beauty that comes into their lives after a big destruction for them? are you the one who pulls them out of that mess when everything is upside down in their lives? (i wondered if they have plutonic influence in their charts, especially sun pluto) maybe you are the one who really fixes their lives. (there is a movie called head on, directed by fatih akın, which is great if you want to watch it) you are also the person they can have great love and romantic feelings for when they least expect it. to them you are very sweet, calm, romantic, emotionally nurturing and not afraid to show these feelings and even express all these feelings in a very poetic way.🤍🌞

edit: uhh just saw your other message and yes, no problem! xoxo🌞

[josephthesnailshow]

Burnt Luigi (Post #3)

Sorry, no video footage was able to be recorded yet, and I don’t want to even know what happened with my game or what Luigi did to it (he might’ve damaged it; that green plumber did it). I don’t know; I recently felt my computer overheating at times, and on my desktop, I was hearing deeper laughs of Bowser playing on a loop and screams of Luigi burning in the lava in lethal lava land.

Though, even if I didn’t record any footage today, I wrote down some things that TakeASoda and I said on the Mario Amino:

Me: Hello, what do you need, TakeAsoda? Are you asking me about a post violation or something?

TakeAsoda: No. It’s regarding your theory of the second post.

Me: Please specify, please.

TakeAsoda: Ok. So, you know how you came up with the fact of someone over at Nintendo getting angry at the fact Luigi wasn’t in Super Mario 64, right?

Me: Ohhhh yeah, that, I remember now.

TakeAsoda: Basically, it’s true; that employee literally threatened to kill everybody in Nintendo of America; someone I knew who worked at the company at the time told me about this, and he had to evacuate the building.

Me: Did the deaths of Mario and Bowser mean to replicate anything relating to the threats?

TakeAsoda: Yup. One time, he told me that the employee wanted to drown someone, and for another person, he wanted to decapitate them.

Me: Oh wow, what was the employee’s name?

TakeAsoda: His name is unknown, and he exclaimed himself Luigi for some reason. He had an obsession with Luigi for some strange reason.

After that talk, TakeAsoda ended the call and sent me and other leaders and curators to a private chat together to discuss it with people like eeh1229, meph, odd.grump, and other admins of the community that I’m following.

Me: Oh?

TakeAsoda: Yeah, I created this private chat just now.

Luigi joined the conversation.

TakeAsoda: Wow, I didn’t invite him.

Me: Yeah, where did this guy come from?

Meph: Don’t disappoint Luigi.

Eeh1229: Don’t disappoint Luigi.

Odd.Grump: Don’t disappoint Luigi.

FYI: Those were the only people who said that message; other leaders and curators remained silent.

Me: Wow, what the actual crap was that?

Me: Don’t disappoint Luigi.

Me: LUIGI SHUT UP! HOWEVER IS DOING THAT HAS TO STOP!

TakeAsoda: I think it’s the Luigi user; someone has to kick him out.

Luigi left the conversation.

Me: Thank God...

TakeAsoda: Yeah, who was that?

Me: Ben?

TakeAsoda: What? No. He didn't drown. Be serious, Joseph.

Me: Ok, sorry, this is confusing and intriguing.

BURNT Luigi joined the conversation.

Notice how the user’s name has BURNT at the beginning of the text. How did this happen? I think the fact that I’m on Amino’s desktop site means the virus might’ve found its way into the browser; I don’t remember ROMs doing something like this.

BURNT Luigi: I am Nintendo.

BURNT Luigi: I am Nintendo.

BURNT Luigi: I AM NINTENDO.

Me: Uhhh… I think my computer has a virus.

BURNT Luigi: I AM NINTENDO.

BURNT Luigi: I AM NINTENDO.

Me: LUIGI SHUT UP ALREADY!

TakeAsoda: Uhh… Here, I will take care of this.

BURNT Luigi left the conversation.

TakeAsoda: there, I banned him from the chat, but judging how I couldn’t ban anyone from the community, I asked a leader on here to do it.

Me: Good, thank you.

I know, you guys might’ve been annoyed over how that user was giving off cringe dialog to us, and it sounded like something you heard from these type of stories. But I’m telling you right now, that’s what the user was saying to us, and yes, he was spamming that to us, he also private messaged us (even if some of our messages were turned off).

The same thing happened again; it literally felt like the endless staircase, but not in Super Mario 64; it was in an endless loop, and the user kept being banned but kept coming back when we didn’t invite him in the first place.

Burnt Luigi joined the conversation.

Burnt Luigi: Hello.

Me: uhhh… hello?

Burnt Luigi: Hello JosephTheSnail.

Me: hi?

Me: What do you want from me?

Burnt Luigi: Do you want to see a photo of me?

Me: Uhhh, why are you asking me? I guess.

Burnt Luigi: Great! It was from our last meetup.

Me: I’m sorry, WHAT?

Burnt Luigi sends a picture, clearly photoshopping an old picture of me sitting on a log, and he’s holding my hand.

Me: I’m sorry, I do not remember taking this photo with you.

Burnt Luigi: Happy birthday! I heard your birthday is October 8th, correct?

Me: HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT? DID YOU CHECK MY DISCORD TOO?

Burnt Luigi: I have my reasons.

TakeAsoda: I’m sorry, but what is this? OH, OH, no.

Me: I know, right? What is this?

Burnt Luigi: It’s just me. It's me, Luigi!

Me: No, you’re not; you’re not Luigi.

Burnt Luigi: Yes, I am; I’m Luigi.

Me: No, you’re not. I know Luigi; he’s a hero in the real Mario games, and you’re something else.

Burnt Luigi: But I’m a hero.

TakeAsoda: You know what? That’s it; I’m deleting this chat.

Me: Please do it; it can stop this.

TakeAsoda then deleted the chat, and then Luigi, the one from the private chat, went on my wall and said that I wasn’t a fun person; luckily, he blocked me afterward, and I can officially have peace—well, at least for now.

Though, when I closed the browser, music started playing; this was the endless staircase, but playing in reverse.

Well, my only option is to turn this computer off and go to sleep; maybe it will stop. Well, see you guys at the fourth post if I’m still around at the time I write this. Ah! I will be around (it’s not like this figure or game can hurt me); I just have other work to do, like school and the like.

Alright, good night.