Transform Him

“Cum to the bathroom, bro.”

You read the text over and over, and stared at the pic below. It was totally out of character for your intellectual, anxious boyfriend to send you a text like that out of nowhere, even at the gym. And the picture he had sent with it…

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what was different, but he looked incredibly sexy. The coloured hair, the tattoos, even the way his shirt clung to his body, it was somehow different than what you expected but you still knew it was him. His eyes were just the same as always. Fuck, did he really want to get dirty right now?

Another text popped up. “Bro, my pits are fuckin rank, cum 2 the last stall”

This must be some kind of surprise roleplay. You were both into those dumb, musky jocks and fantasised about public sex, even though you'd never tried it. And you could feel yourself starting to chub up in your gym shorts, too.

Fuck it. “On my way, baby.”

“Call me dude, bro.”

A moment later, you pushed open the door to the bathroom. It felt so dirty to walk casually past the urinals, watching yourself in the mirror as if your body was moving on autopilot. Were you walking differently than normal? Could people tell? The air itself felt different, pregnant with horny anticipation.

You knocked gently on the last stall, and the latch slid open.

“Hey bro,” said your boyfriend, pulling you into the close space. Was his voice deeper, more smokey? He looked even bigger than he had in the picture, his eyes full of desperate lust.

“What’s up dude?” you replied, using the nickname like he’d told you. “How’s the lift going?”

“Oh, you know me,” he crowded you against the wall, raising one arm so all you could see was the tangled, wet hair of his armpit, “I got too fuckin’ horny and had to call my bro in to help.”

This was really happening. You had your boyfriend’s fresh, musky pits right in front of you. Five minutes ago he’d been on the elliptical, and you could still feel the heat of his exertion radiating onto you. You angled your head forward, straight into the dense, sweaty forest, and took a deep whiff.

Your boyfriend stifled your moan with his pit as he crushed you against the flimsy stall wall. “Let it in, bro,” he ordered you, his free hand reaching down to fondle your cock straight through your shorts.

As you started licking, you felt something like a finger reach down the back of your shorts and tease your ass. You gasped at the intrusion.

“Shhh,” your boyfriend told you. “Keep quiet, bro. Let it in.” One hand was behind his head, the other beginning to undo the drawstring of your shorts.

You pulled back, looked up at his face. You trusted the expression in his eyes. It felt so good to lean back in as your boyfriend started to stroke your cock and the something behind you ran a cold finger around your rim.

The sensation quickly slipped into your ass, and you barely held back a keen as it massaged your prostate. You felt so full all of the sudden, but all you could focus on was the pleasure and the sharp, musky stench overpowering all your senses.

“C’mon bro, keep going, you’re almost there,” came your boyfriend’s voice as your rock-hard cock started to fill your shorts with precum. “Fill up so good.”

Your belly felt swollen now, and so, so cold, even enveloped in the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. Suddenly, the cold clawed upwards into your chest, and you looked down in shock.

Your belly was overfilled, and your pecs were bouncing of their own volition. They were bouncing and growing, thick dark hair covering them as the areolae expanded. “What’s-“ you gasped, but then your boyfriend’s hand shot to your new muscle tits. His callused, wide, masculine hand. The pleasure of his touch shot through your brain and your voice cut off in a choked gasp.

Suddenly, you could see what had happened to your boyfriend. The tattoos, the hair, the muscles, the voice. They weren’t him, they were something else inside him. Something dumb, musky, and perverted.

“C’mon bro, you’re so close, let my bro and me play a bit,” the thing in your boyfriend rasped in your ear. Meanwhile, you felt your lats jerk wider, hair growing wild in your armpits as the intense scent of your musk began to fight with your boyfriend’s.

You looked into his eyes and realised they hadn’t changed. Your boyfriend was looking out, watching your biceps thicken and your neck widen, and he was loving it. Every motion, every touch, every hushed gasp in the public bathroom, was exactly what he had always wanted but never been able to actually do. And you wanted it too.

Your arms, out of your control, pushed your shorts down your thickening thighs, letting your massive cock flop out. One massive, thick-fingered hand pulled out your boyfriend’s hard cock and put them both end to end, stretching your foreskin over his cockhead and starting to stroke. Now it was your boyfriend’s turn to stifle his yell as you lost control of your face to the thing inside you.

“Fuck yeah, dude,” your mouth said, the voice deep and slow. “Found such a good body for your bro. He’s so fuckin’ happy in here, lettin’ me flex and bate him and givin' into the musk.”

Your boyfriend grunted and grabbed your lips in a bruising kiss. “So’s this guy, bro,” he purred. “Fuck, I can’t wait to make you smell these feet, bro.”

A moment later, your boyfriend hissed and you felt his hot cum flood your foreskin, tipping you over the edge. Foreheads pressed together, you rode out the orgasm with ragged breaths and shifting feet, flexing muscle on muscle to prolong the pleasure. When you finally released your foreskin, your boyfriend cupped his hands to get both your loads as they spilled out, and met your eyes as he tipped it into his mouth. You felt a shuddering aftershock as your boyfriend looked out past the thing possessing him, delirious with pleasure.

“Let’s crush the rest of the workout, bro,” he whispered, giving you one last cummy kiss.

“You’ll smell me from across the gym, dude,” you said, lifting one arm and sticking your tongue out.

You didn’t know how long you and your boyfriend would be passengers in your own bodies, but you were ready to settle down and enjoy it.

You stare at Nick from across the room, rolling your eyes as he takes yet another selfie of his new and improved form. Sweat drips from his mop like hair and onto his smooth, shiny skin. Ever since he left Randy, and thank god he did, he’s found a much needed respite in the local gym. He even found a couple of new friends, which of course you’re thrilled about. Seeing him so down and in the dumps for four weeks had you worried about Nick, but ever since the day he walked in through the door with those two giant dudes he met doing CrossFit he had a pep in his step and such a confidence boost. Cooper and Tre had doubled his size and musculature in a matter of days, which to you seemed impossible; but you were too happy for his blooming that you dismissed it as a successful CrossFit regimen.

And yet, this version of Nick that Cooper and Tre had brought out in him was something that gave you a bit of pause. For one, the smell. Showers started to be skipped a couple of times per week, clothes started to be reused time and time again at the gym… Clothes, as well, were being replaced faster than you could keep up with. Nick’s funky, colorful wardrobe had all but been emptied and replaced with athletic wear, sweats, and stringer tanks. You started to recognize your friend less and less. Standing there shirtless, in nothing more than his stinking gym shorts and rank socks, you couldn’t help but worry about him.

That isn’t to say he isn’t your friend anymore- he still laughs and jokes with you, albeit his humor is dirtier and more crass, but it’s good natured. He still goes out with you to the bars and plays wing man, though he does find himself in the bathroom with various hunky men more often than you’d like. He still happily hangs out and games with you on the weekends, though you have to light a couple of candles in the living room to drown out his scent. His scent… that heavy, buttery musk of sweat and unwashed laundry, with a hint of… oddly, fresh latex.

“Yo! Bro, I’m tellin’ you, you gotta come chill with Coop and Tre. Look at this shit!” Nick flexes his tatted arm, the fresh ink from a day or two prior glistens brightly atop the firm bicep. The gentle squeak of his shiny skin not going unnoticed by you.

“Sure man,” you fib, “sounds good.” Your disinterest in hanging with the two brain dead jocks shone through the lies. Nick sees this, the squishing sound of his socks echo in the bedroom as he walks over to you.

“Well, good! Tre is on his way over! Thought we could crack some beers and watch the game.” The game? The gym is one thing, you can wrap your head around the almost therapeutic experience of turning off your brain and just doing simple movements. But football? You raise your eyebrow.

“Since when have you liked football? You hate football.” Nicks face cracks ever so slightly, the first time you know intrinsically you touched on something he didn’t anticipate you to catch. Before he’s able to stutter out some form of reasoning, the knock on the front door saves Nick from your questioning.

“Oh shit, that’s him!” Nick dumbly chuckles to himself and squeaks out of the now ripe bedroom, his stench lingering in the air. You sigh, closing your eyes to take one or two deep breaths. Another smelly dude bro- delightful. The sound of the door opening, and a jovial ‘whassup bruh’ breaks your centering ritual. You stand up and approach the door, only barely hearing the quiet whispering of the two before you enter into the living room- the sight of Tre’s 6’2” jacked body greeting you.

“Whassup, my dude?” Tre’s shirtless form takes you aback, his muscles glistening just like Nick’s. Tre has always been a nice guy, relaxed and always down to kick back and just hang; even if he takes his sneakers off and fogs out the room with his cheesy foot smell, he had been nothing but kind to you. You have no reason to dislike or distrust him, and yet, here you are. You smile with a feigned civility, waving at him. Nick struts over to the kitchen and pulls out three Pacificos for you- one very clearly already opened before he pops the caps off the other two as if you hadn’t noticed.

“Let’s get comfy, boys!” Nick chimes and walks over to hand you your beer as you watch with exasperation as Tre kicks off his Jordans, the scent immediately hitting you like a train. The three of you clink your bottles together, and take a swig. At least, you certainly do. In the periphery of your sight, you see the two of them watch you for a split second before sipping their drinks as well. Nick throws his arm around you, the slickness of his skin immediately reminding you of the feeling of lubed latex as he guides the three of you to the couch, plopping down on it like sacks of potatoes.

Tre flicks his thumb against the remote, the game immediately coming onto your television as if it were playing just before it was last turned off. You continue to sip your beer, your eyes darting between Tre on your right and Nick on your left, both screaming and cheering with every goal. More and more you find that you don’t know Nick anymore, or at least who Tre and Cooper turned him into. An hour passes before halftime finally comes to pass, your Pacifico all but empty at this point. Finally, Nick turns to you, smiling as he sees you couch locked and borderline drunk. It was one drink, how are you feeling so goddamned weird?

“You need another one, bro?” Nick pokes your arm, which you feel compress and collapse against his finger. In the right state of mind, this would have obviously concerned you, but nearly unable to speak, you can do little more than shake your head no. “Yo, Tre. I think it’s setting in.” Nick’s face is bright and elated as he and Tre high five eachother before hopping onto their feet.

“Shit, bruh that didn’t take long at all. Not gonna lie, Coop. I didn’t think you’d be able to pull it off. You good in there?” You furrow your brow in confusion at Tre’s words until Nick slips his fingers into his mouth, pulling firmly until his face starts to peel away like a mask- squeaking and slurping until the face of Cooper beneath is revealed.

“Yeah man, feels amazing like always. Nicks’s givin me all the info I need. Only slipped up once!” The two jocks bump knuckles, before Cooper slithers his way out of Nick’s rubbery body. His feet slap against the floor, as Nick’s face snaps back to normal. Your eyes are open in horror and shock, before Nick shakes his head and reopens his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yah, bro! Worked like a charm!” Cooper helps Nick to his feet, and the trio of jocks stand before you, their arms crossed and standing wide. “Fuck, man you’re gonna love this shit. I can’t keep hiding this shit from you and not share it!” You watch frozen, unable to move, feeling your body go limp and light as Nick and Cooper walk over to the couch and plop down on either side of you. “Bro, after Randy, I was ready to jump off the balcony. Then these motherfuckers found me at the gym and promised they’d be able to help me. Now look!” Nick flexes his arm, before grabbing his smelly foot and pulling on it. The meaty leg stretches longer and longer, the squeaks of his skin growing into warps until it snaps right back to normal. “What do you guys think? A month? Maybe two?”

“Sounds good, bro. It’ll be good to have you with us, bruh. You’ll be feelin better in no time.” With Tre’s words echoing in your head, you feel Cooper push you head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch before his and Nick’s fingers slip into the corners of your mouth. Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as they stretch it wider and wider, joking about how stretchy you are already. Tre walks around to the back of the couch and looks down at you, his left hand slipping into your wet, tight throat. “Let’s goooo!”

Tre shouts, removing his hand from your throat before gripping either end of the couch, swinging those huge smelly feet above your open maw. It happens quick and easy. The stench of his socks only lingers for one second before they slide across your tongue, the grimy texture making them slide down your throat quickly. His massive body slides inside of you with ease- the outline of his thick legs sliding beneath the skin of your chest and torso. The wet squelches and rubbery squeaks increase in frequency and intensity, as his ripe bulge and thick ass slips into you, your neck bulging wide as you feel his feet squeeze into yours. The skin stretches taut over his size 14’s, and your legs burst with his muscles within.

“Ay, a lil help, bro?” Tre stands up onto your feet, your wide mouth sits suctioned around his lean waist- the salty flavor of his sweat soaked balls sitting on your tongue filling your mouth with his flavor. Coop and Nick jump up as Tre raises his arms up, taking ahold of your ears in their fingers. Slowly, they tug up on your head, encasing his cobbled abs and meaty pecs within your body. You taste the ripe sweat in his wiry pits before his arms slide downward into your mouth, squeezing them deep within you until his fingers are just able enter your shoulders.

“Aight, bro! Pull!” Nick shouts loudly, and in seconds they pull your your head upward even further. You feel Tre’s arms squeeze into your own, and with a single roll of his shoulders, his hands slip into yours like gloves. You see Nick smile with genuine excitement as he pulls your your head over the back of Tre’s, tugging more and more until it snaps over his with a loud crack. You anticipated losing control, fading into black, lost in the ether… you couldn’t be more wrong.

“Ahh shit, lemme just…” Tre’s deep voice bellows out of your mouth, but deep in your mind you hear it as well. “Excuse the reach, bro. One sec.” He plunges your hands into your shorts, and you can feel his monstrous rod slipping and sliding around in your torso. He pulls on your skin, watching it stretch until his tip lines up with the base of your shaft. You’d moan if you could, feeling Tre’s slippery cock filling your own like rolling on a condom. He grunts as it distends your dick to match his 11 inches, his thick balls dropping into your sac with a wet schlorp. Tre stretches in your body, making sure everything is where it needs to be while Nick and Coop grab more beers.

“How… why…. How are you doing this?” Your voice echoes loudly around you. It doesn’t go unanswered, as your body plops right back down onto the couch, swollen with Tre’s musculature. He kicks your feet up onto the coffee table, his ripe foot funk now wafting from your soles.

“Heh, it’s a trip, right?” His voice booms in your head. “Just a lil thing my friend from New Orleans taught me once. Feels good, too.” Nick and Coop drop down onto the couch with a beer for ‘you.’ He takes it with your hand, unfamiliarly large and vascular. “Just sit back and relax, bruh. Let Tre show you how it’s done.” Your three bros clink their beers together, as you’re left to watch out of your eyes as they talk about how dope you’re gonna be.

———

Two months came and went, Tre took a bit longer inside you than had been planned- you two really bonded with him in the drivers seat. The way he swaggered down the street in your body, the way your rubbery skin glistened with his sweat, the musk that flowed from your feet, pits, and balls… you’ve grown to love it. You two talked almost every minute of every day within your mind, the feeling of having a bro with you at all times felt good and safe.

Feeling the thrill of lifting over 200 lbs with relative ease, the euphoria of him plunging your cock into dozens of men’s mouths and holes, the fraternal feeling of jacking Nick off in the sauna after a long lifting session, feeling like a sexy king with men and women drooling at your feet over your natural scent… you almost didn’t want Tre to exit you. When he did, it was bittersweet. Coop and Nick helped pry him out of your now jacked, musky fuckboy body, and it almost felt like on you were holding onto him inside of you. The moment he was out, though, your life really began.

You’re closer than ever with Nick, spending hours at the gym and at the clubs with him, fuckin boys and pumping iron. Every day is filled with crazy antics with the boys, Tre and Cooper are over almost every night kicking back with you, the bond unbreaking and unyielding. Just for yucks, you will squeeze into eachother, pranking eachother or just finding it a damn good way to feel close to your bro. In fact, the other day you fucked the shit out of this lil twink inside of Nick. The minute he walks through that door, you got a date tonight with him. You can’t wait to slip him on and use that dick of his, and he can’t wait either.

You. 😌

But here’s my current list of some favs that are still around and posting:

@semischarmed

@fredwkong

@rakurairagnarok

@transformhim

@king-craftsman

@thefunkfactory

@verus-veritas

@occamstfs

@fullfriendnerdclutch

@immortalmrwavell

@misctf

@maletfdreamer

@wakeup01

@sanzaibian

(4K Post!!🎉)

Late again, AS USUAL, but that’s my brand ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Here’s the one I mentioned a while ago (+ in my last post) that didn’t really start out as but definitely ended up as a sort of Superfood (I & II) prequel. Lmk if you catch when the connection is made 😉 Thank you SO MUCH again for 4k followers!! Hope you enjoy!

———

“What the hell is this place?”

Lance wiped his brow on the loose arm of his flannel and looked around as Samuel followed along closely behind him, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the tail of his button down, exposing his pale skin and the slight paunch all non-athletic twinks eventually grow around their midsection. They had stumbled across a structure in the middle of the woods on the second day of their weeklong hike through a small section of the Appalachian Trail.

The Appalachian Mountains are perhaps the most ancient mountain range in the world; there’s no way to describe how beautiful the nature is, but there’s also no way to describe the unknown, unseen, forbidden things you’re likely to come across buried deep, deep in the woods and sloping, rocky terrain. Places that existed long before the Europeans began their terrible sweep across the continent. Places that existed before any kind of settlement, really. Places that existed even before recorded history. Places, perhaps, like the one the two friends had just stumbled across.

After traveling through a ruined hall and navigating through some overgrown flora, they came into a large, 4-walled room, devoid of a roof and carpeted with moss and other greenery. It’s walls were too sheer and too tall to be naturally formed, and there were glyphs and symbols painted on its surface.

“Far-fucking-ooouuutt,” Samuel marveled, looking around and taking in the natural and unnatural beauty around them. He puffed a heavy hit of one of the spliffs he and Lance were nearly done sharing and passed it back to his friend, taking a few steps further into the structure.

Lance pinched the end of the filter and dragged in what was left of the bud and tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to extinguish the ember, following his friend further into the structure. The roof was missing, letting in a picturesque smattering of sun rays filtered through the light tree canopy overhead.

One word passed through Lance’s mind: idyllic. And it was! He was glad to get out of the city and into nature, he was coasting pretty splendidly on the high he was cooking, and there was a peaceful reverence in the air he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Not to mention, he was enormously happy to be spending time with someone some dear to him.

Both of them were pretty fresh out of college, both stuck at a job they didn’t much care for that didn’t at all pay them enough to live even moderately comfortable lives. In the impoverished hellscape of rural Appalachia, it was leisure activities like hiking, camping, singing, shooting, fishing, playing instruments that gave life any worth living, and Lance and Samuel were committed to such leisure. If only to escape the ennui of unhappy, unfulfilling employment.

He heard Samuel’s foot slip and turned around to catch a glimpse of his friend mid-stumble, but Samuel regained his balance and corrected himself before falling. He flashed a goofy smile and a thumbs up at Lance, who grinned and rolled his eyes, turning back around to continue his own exploring and studying the symbols on the walls.

He’d known Samuel since they were boys; they’d grown up on the same block and played the same games and shared the same interests. As both of them were the only-children of their respective families, each other was the closest thing either of them would have to a brother. Yeah, Lance loved Samuel in his own way, perhaps even more than loved. Samuel could say the same, but it was an unspoken thing between each other. Their church-going, conservative families were likely to be unsupportive and react strongly. Plus, why complicate a good thing with romance?

“Hey, check this out,” Samuel called from the center of the structure. Lance made his way over and saw what Samuel was looking at: an overgrown, chalk-adorned altar. In the middle of the chalk ring dotted with runes and glyphs sat a collection of little figures and shapes made of twigs and mud.

Lance leaned in to get a closer look at the ruined setup, trying unsuccessfully to decipher what could be written. What made him think he could read it in the first place? It’s not like he had even an iota of knowledge about the occult—if this even was occult in nature. He had to guess it had something to do with the typical ancient witchcraft techniques and their purposes. Guaranteeing a healthy harvest. Warding off evil. Offering to the gods. Inciting certain weather patterns. Fertility.

However, scattered around the circle were a collection of clay jars and bottles, some corked with stoppers and some the looked like they had been left open 100 years ago.

In the center of all of it was a large, glass jar, about as tall as a bankers tube and about as wide as one too. It looked to be a kind of mason jar, with the flat piece covering the opening and a top that was heavily sealed with wax. However, the jar was opaque, with what looked to be moss and mud lining its sides. He didn’t know whether it was because of the way the light was shining through the canopy or if it was a trick of the eye, but he could swear that there was something illuminated or glowing within, mostly obscured by debris inside.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Samuel quoted Alice in Wonderland, butchering a high-pitched English accent. He chuckled and propped himself up on his knees into an upright position. Lance picked up the large jar in the center and turned it around in his hands, inspecting it further.

“You think people still come here? Looks like this place hasn’t been touched in a millennium.” Samuel asked, looking around some more, half expecting to see some kind of booby trap set up that he and Lance could’ve triggered on their way in. The place had that kind of energy: a fascinating, ethereal otherworldliness mixed with a forbidden, foreboding sacredness. He felt somehow simultaneously honored and warily anxious to be inside the structure.

“Who knows?” Lance responded, still looking closely at the jar. “I’ve heard so many weird ass stories about what goes on in these mountains, it’s hard to say what’s verifiable and what’s not.”

“True, true,” Samuel responded absentmindedly, trying to match Lance’s bookishness. He always was the nerdier of the two.

Samuel began to turn around but suddenly lost his footing on a slope he hadn’t seen due to the floral overgrowth. “FFFfffuu—!!” He barked as his arms pinwheeled wildly trying to find footing. In the second and a half it took for him to lose his footing, Samuel crashed down into the underbrush at an awkward angle, landing on and twisting his ankle.

“ARRGGHH!! Fuck!” Samuel cried out, bringing his knee up to his chest and wrapping his hands around it, keeping his ankle hovering. Just from a half-second glance and the awkward angle of his limb, Lance could see that it must’ve hurt Samuel to move his ankle at all.

“Sam—!!” Lance moved quickly to stand but dropped the jar from his hands, shattering on the ground. “Shit!” he hissed as he knelt to recover the damage. He quickly hunched over the shards and debris inside not a moment after it had shattered, trying to scoop the mess back together.

Suddenly, from the broken mess, a plume of pinkish-red, glowing, fuzzy orbs wafted into the air around Lance’s face. One word flashed through his mind with blinding, code-red alarm before he could even comprehend what was happening: SPORES. Before he could react, he gasped and inhaled nearly all of the spore cloud that had burst from the jar, while some others floated to the ground and dissipated into the soil.

Lance coughed and swatted the air in front of his face and wiping at his upper lip, attempting to brush away any of the remaining spores around his airspace, but all had drifted into his nasal passage. It smelled strong and earthy, botanical and perfumed, flowery and slightly musky. It smelled… actually, it smelled fuckin’ good.

He continued coughing a little bit, sniffling and breathing heavily, wiping his face obsessively. He didn’t feel ill or like he was being harmed, but it was as though something had lit a fuse to his senses. His nasal passage seemed to dilate extremely wide, his sinuses clearer than they had ever been and smelling scents he couldn’t remember smelling before. His entire body felt jittery, numb, and excited, like he’d pounded a massive Red Bull and full canister of pre-workout, noticeably trembling and shaking. His eyes had widened like dinner plates, and he looked around in delighted awe as his eyes caught the light in ways he’d never before experienced, not even during legendary weekend music fest drugged-out benders with Samuel and their mutual friends nearly every summer. The light mingled and danced in his vision and the colors seemed to swim and stand out more vividly.

Still on his hands and knees, the vibrating in Lance’s appendages started to intensify, and he dug his fingers into the soil while he was racked with tingling energy. While his fingers sank into the dirt, Lance felt something utterly unreal and completely extraordinary. It felt as though the tips of his fingers were.. drinking—probably the best way he could put it—from the earth. It was like his fingers had become straws sucking something from the earth and feeding it into his body. Looking down, with his mysteriously enhanced eyesight, this was confirmed as he watched throbbing, slow-moving, slightly-glowing pulses moving through his fingers, through the veins in his hands, up the veins in his arms, and into his chest. He could feel it spreading within him. He could feel it mingling with the rest of his anatomy. He could feel it fucking everywhere.

Lance took in a long, sharp, shuddering inhale with a wide grin plastered on his face. “¡¡Ayyyyyy benditooooo…!!” He groaned deeply as he arched his back and chuckled slightly. He could feel something monumental coming.

Samuel’s face was still contorted in abject pain and agony at his twisted limb, but he curiously noted Lance’s change in demeanor. He propped himself up on his elbows, still panting in pain, “Lance??”

be freakier, be kinkier, be louder, be gayer, be more colorful, hoist the freak flag higher, lean into your queerness, lean on each other, lift up your neighbors, become more outspoken, and do so with so much love and kindness and gratitude and service to those closest to you

because I for one will be goddamned if I'll let a demonstrable minority of a bunch of "male loneliness epidemic" vitamin D-deficient fascist brownshirt larp-er fucks and their ilk convince the world that we (the royal "we," the community "we," our queer and trans family "we," the overwhelming majority of good people in this country "we") are anything less than the best

for all you dl/trade/perhaps-still-closeted folks following me who have bought into the cruelty and soullessness of this moment (I see you, I know your profiles, I notice every time you engage), there’s something I need to hold your hands and tell you because it’s uncomfortable but it’s important:

they will never love you, they will never accept you.

to them, you will always be the unfortunate, immoral creature that they will only ever tolerate because you’re playing the role of the useful idiot in perpetuating their shared delusion of blood and soil, misogynistic, hateful bullshit rat poison.

no matter how many times you play the cheerleader for them, and no matter how many times they pat you on the back like you’re one of their own because you happen to be one of the “good ones,” one of the “normal ones,” you will always find yourself in their periphery. they’ll never fully see you as someone worthy of love.

you’re part of the family, whether you like it or not. and no matter what they tell you or what you tell yourself to satiate that pit of self-hatred you’re experiencing, being part of this family is a blessing, not a curse.

“Yeah? I f-MMUUugh-fuckin’ thought so… huh…”

“And bigger…? J-Jeez, dude, what’s gotten into you…”

“I dunno, man.. delayed pump? It was lookin’ sick though, right?”

“Oookay, Jin, take it easy, I said I’d help you out with recording but—”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just—UU-OOhhh—oh, Kai a-are you ffffff-UUGH-uh-kin’ SEEING THIS??”

“WOAH… dude c-c’mon, chill, you’re gonna—”

“Why would I sssssssSSTOP this, bro?!”

“Quit flexing! It’s speeding the—and your fucking voice! And the—your, uh… your… wow…”

“AAWWRRGGH ffffuuck yeah man, look how thick my meats getting man.. SSSorry, I know you don’—UUGGHH—t swing that was but—FUCK you can’t imagine what this ffff-feels like…”

“It—It’s—you’re… still getting bigger.. Y-your balls…”

“Fffffffffuuuck—UUHHNF—ooohh god that was a bbIIIIIIgg one…”

“… Tore your shorts and s-snapped your j-jock, Jin…”

“Fffuck, It’s like I’m pissing this shit…”

“All that pre…”

“Dude.. feel me… G-GRRRROWWW with me…”

“I—I mean, I wish…”

“UURNGH—oooh, fuck, dude I w-*buuurrrpp*-wish you could t-toooOOOOOO, mmnnnhhooooyeaahh…”

“UUGGH! Nasty dude, that’s fucking rank..”

“Excuse me! MMNNFFF!!…”

“Gross… smells like..”

“YYYYYEEEAAAHHhhh, it does—RRNG!!—You think that’s what did it? That energy drink? That rando on the floor was h-hhhAAANDING OUT—FUCK!!”

“Goddamn, you’re gonna burst through this place!”

“Mmmff, that’d be so fuckin, hot.”

“F-For real…”

“… You wanna—mmfffuckyeeaah—grow with me, dude?”

“I—Well… Yeah, bro, I kinda do…”

“… Then why don’t you ggggnnff—go crack open that can in your bag, bbbrRROOO—FUCK—or are those drinks still ‘sooo bad for your overall health?‘”

“I think I can make exceptions…”

“That’s what I’m tttALLLKIN’ bout, dude.”

“Let’s see what this bod can do!”

“Strip down, Kai.. I wanna feel you fuckin’ all over me while you beef up, dude, grow with me, bro, get ready…”

“Bottoms up!”

“Fuckin’ right.”

———

Scrolled across this pic👇on the dash right before this reblog and the mind couldn’t help but wander 🤪 Thanks for the inspo, @swollenmuscles!

After trying some vintage candy Eddie finds himself rushing into the life of his dreams, with a the man of his dreams to boot! Sweet bearification/age progression!

Bit of a long one but I quite enjoyed writing it! Hope it's not too saccharine for y'all! As always, hope you all enjoy! -Occam

It was Eddie’s first day off in a few weeks. He doesn’t really mind the hours but working in an office has been a little less than fulfilling for him. Quite the recluse, he was originally planning on just staying in on his day off but his friend from work, Tony, encouraged him to explore town. He acquiesce, for nothing else than hopefully having something new to talk about with Tony when he’s back at work, secretly hoping that taking his friend’s advice could lead to something a little more exciting between the two of them.

Looking around the town square he’s immediately bored, seeing almost entirely places he’s already written off in the time he’s lived in the city. Eddie doesn’t want to go daydrink or buy some new clothes and he’s already kicking himself in the leg for forgetting that he hasn’t gone out in some time for a reason. Right before he calls it a day and returns home to hop on some video game he sees something new and alluring: The Olde Candy Shoppe.

It looks quite out of place, like a mom and pop shop shoved in between newer developments. Eddie stares in disbelief unsure how he could have possibly missed the anomaly before now, he’s been here before and is almost certain that it has not. Though by all appearances it seems far and away to be the oldest building in the square. He digs deep trying to recall any friends mentioning a candy shop in town and comes up blank. Sighing he decides to push no further, obviously the building is there so there’s no sense at all to go crazy about it. Beside that, the longer he spends thinking on it he realizes he could certainly do with a sugary pick-me-up.

Eddie enters  the candy shop and any edge or nerves remaining were left at the door. The atmosphere was immediately soothing and warm, sweet but not cloying. The cool white light filters through aged windows and bathes everything with the yellow warmth of perpetual twilight. Looking around the shop Eddie just feels at home, he sets to browsing the aisles when he hears a loud deep voice shout, “Welcome in lad! Glad to have ya!” Quickly removed from whatever reverie he was in, Eddie turns to find a man otherworldly. Masculine like a grandfather, the giant would seem more at home at Santa’s workshop than the city center in which his store sits. 

Eddie simply stares at the man who quickly laughs before putting a hand on his hip and walking over, “You know it’s impolite to stare young man, Hah Hah!” His whole body bounces as he laughs and Eddie closes his agape mouth, not even realizing it had fallen open. He tries to speak but stumbles over his words as he massive man comes to pat him on the back, “What can I do ya for lad?” Eddie swallows hard and finds his caught tongue, “Oh, ah well, I’m just looking around I suppose. Sorry-” The bear of a man laughs heartily once more before continuing, “Well I’m certain you’ll find exactly what yer lookin’ for. Ya just shout if ya need anythin’!” With that he goes off to organize the racks behind the counter, leaving Eddie to his own devices. 

For now, here’s something I’ve been working on for WAY TOO LONG (apologies again, especially to our model). Enjoy :)

(Julian 📸: @jxdavis98 )

———

Julian’s Vacation

It isn’t often that the stars aligned in such a way that provides us with exactly what we need at the exact moment we need it, but such was the case for Julian, and while he was enjoying himself on a break from work, no less.

Julian had always been considered by his circle to be an understatement of a stud. He didn’t hulk out of his clothes or anything like that, but he had handsome face and tons of natural charm. Call it ‘big dick energy’ if you will, it was some indescribable appeal. He hadn’t experienced any issues bedding girls or guys, and even his platonic acquaintances loved him.

From the outside looking in, Julian looked like he had ‘the full package,’ as one might call it, but there’s one thing he didn’t have that he wanted so badly.

Julian wanted to be buff. Not lean, not slight definition under his clothes, not even casual gym rat, but actually, genuinely buff. He’d always wanted to be one of those people who look like they spent every bit of free time in the gym, but his job absorbed much of his time, both in and out of work. He felt like if he had a body like that, he’d have the drive to maintain it, but working towards that was a time commitment he knew he didn’t have, and thus he always lacked the confidence of being a ripped gym bro.

Work was a bitch this quarter, so Julian decided to take a vacation to a nice all-inclusive spot in the Caribbean. A different type of vacation for him, for sure, but again, work was a bitch and he didn’t want to worry about planning an itinerary. A confirmed bachelor, Julian was used to traveling alone, and actually preferred it because of the spontaneity it offered.

He’d taken advantage of such spontaneity before on trips—befriending locals, going out and truly experiencing the local scene, and yes, taking every opportunity to take someone back to his room after a night out. But that was thinking too small for the type of spontaneity he had planned, for he soon discovered that his top Instagram thirst-follow, Italian fitness model Matteo Greco, would be staying at the same location he was for the weekend.

Matteo ticked all of the boxes for Julian. He was tall, he was muscular, he was handsome, he was thick, he was athletic, and he had a massive hog from what Julian could see based on his thirst-trap posts. He was everything Julian wanted in his body, but knew that his body shape/type didn’t allow for that kind of wish to be fulfilled. But Julian had other tricks up his sleeve.

At the last family reunion, Julian’s cousin seemed to be glowing. He had a huge amount of confidence, he seemed healthier than ever, Julian thought he might have even been a little larger, and he seemed genuinely contented. When Julian finally got him aside and asked what changed for him, his cousin told him about a concoction that turned his life around. He said that it allowed him to step into the life of another person, like literally inhabit their body. Apparently that kind of new perspective really made a difference for his cousin, even though he’d never spent more than a few hours inside whomever he decided to occupy. Julian obviously demanded to know the ingredients and steps and so his cousin graciously obliged. Luckily for Julian, he had his vacation coming up the weekend after the reunion, and he intended to take advantage of this new knowledge as soon as he could.

Luckier still for Julian, Matteo would be occupying the same location that weekend.

I am seeing more children as protagonists in erotica. Still being reblogged. Still being liked. The same guy having done this time and time again. It’s not preference. It’s p*dophil*a. I’m fucking sick of it. Why are we continuing to allow this? How many writers have to come out and say something, come out against this before something is done?