You'd seen him come into the gym for a little over a year now, and you distinctly recall the day he came in and the remarkably 'dorky' presentation of of his workout clothes. The visible socks and corny looking shoes, the blue tanktop that was much, much too large for his lithe frame, shorts he had to frequently pull back up over his waist as they drifted down, and oversized glasses with transition lenses that never seemed to drift back from their UV-blocking state.

But you remembered him mainly from how sweet he was to you when he asked for recommendations for his pre-workout shake. His earnest words and embarrassed tenor-toned chuckle hid his intentions with all of the subtlety of a truck ramming through a nitroglycerin factory: he wanted to be big. Not simply modestly large but breaking boundaries--the sort of proportions that would take upwards of a decade to work up towards. Aims that you didn't have the heart to tell him would be impossible given his stature.

That is, of course, without a little bit of help to push him along. Sometimes it required the right client or the right person, but this man felt 'right'.

Almost. There was one last thing to check--to be certain anyways.

You pushed him for why he wanted to grow so massive. Everyone had their motivations, but they were usually hollow or half-baked or short-sighted. The sort that would think it would be a good idea to juice right when you started to work out for the first time. Or that this would take a few months to get the results desired. You'd heard most of the ridiculous ones.

But when he said "bulls are supposd to be big," it gave you pause. And you pushed him further.

"Bulls? Or do you mean you?"

He seemed hesitant to answer for the briefest of moments, and then there was a spark in his eye as he gave a firm, determined nod. "I am supposed to be big."

You're not certain if it was the authoritative tone or the fact he looked so adorable or some other je ne sais quoi, but the preworkout you provided him that first day and every day after was laced with a similar bit of magic. Of course, the magic wouldn't work or react if the bull wasn't serious about what he spoke about. Consent was important.

But when the world itself started to shift over the course of months--the gym seeming to gain larger and larger equipment overnight to accommodate the massively growing bull that made himself known just from stepping through the doors. Of course, anyone who worked there would remark "That's just Ollie" and "he's been working out here for years."

As if no one noticed the bull had grown from five feet and one-hundred and twenty pounds to over eight feet and cresting over fifteen-hundred pounds.

But they didn't. He was always that big.

However, you and he knew full well what he used to be.

The glasses didn't look so small on him anymore. The tank was now barely holding on. His shorts rode up to reveal powerfully built quads that yielded thunderous steps. And his shoes seemed to wheeze with each one taken, socks forcibly ridden down by unrelenting calves.

As he leaned over the counter to loom over you, his gaze fixated upon you with a toothy smile partially blocked by a heaving shelf of pectorals. "So," his now rumbling bass shook through your body as he extended a hand that could easily encapsulate yours twice over, the meaty digits spreading out expectantly as he accented the action with a dominant snort. "How about we double it up today?~"

Bulls were meant to be big.

But Ollie was meant to be bigger.

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

Ollie Raegar's earlier designs were much more adorkable (lul), but I'm still very fond of the vibe of the most extreme variants of twink death I can manage but still carry a bit of playfulness. And the bull here as depicted is probably the purest example of this.

I think it might be the glasses though. They're huge, bulky, and very obvious. But everything else about him being so massive offsets what otherwise would be a dominating feature.

Over the years, he got much more masculine coded, complete with body hair et al, but I do want to revisit his design to see if I can combine these more 'dorky' elements from his earlier depictions with his more recent design direction. I feel the balance between those elements would really sell the bull for what he's worth.

And it also means he can do that one trope with glasses how suddenly removing them makes him drop dead handsome or something.

Art by  tkc2021