Written Fic | The Bull and the Boy

Hi, friends. I know it's been awhile, and I'm *so* sorry, but my personal life has calmed down and I plan to start making content for y'all again soon. For the time being, here's a little feedism-themed fairytale I whipped up real quick and uploaded to DeviantArt. I hope you enjoy~

There once was a creature that lived in the woods, with the form of a man but the build of a bull, and so by “the Bull” was this creature known. He was a formidable thing to look at; he towered over all at almost seven feet tall, and his burly body bulged with ample muscle from head to toe. His legs were thick as tree trunks, his arms were as strong as iron, and his face was broad and chiseled like an ancient stone.

But for all his grizzled looks, the Bull was a gentle creature, and a great friend to all he encountered—provided they didn't run at first glance. He loved to hear the brook babble and watch the flowers sway, and in the warmer months he could often be found picking berries with the squirrels and building nests for the birds. Being so tall had its many advantages, after all.

On one such day of berry-picking, the Bull saw something that struck him deep in his hairy chest. Across the thicket and in a field there stood a little cottage, and before that cottage there stood a boy more beautiful than any fruit or flower. He was small and slender, with soft chestnut hair and the most prettiest emerald eyes that seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

The Bull was struck speechless, and his heart filled with warmth. He wanted nothing more than to take the Boy in his arms and cradle him like the most precious of gems—but he didn't approach. Such a small and beautiful creature as he would surely run screaming at the mere sight of something so large and lumbering as the Bull. And so he watched from afar, obscured by the trees, until the Boy retreated back into his cottage, unaware of his newfound admirer.

For days the Bull watched him, and for days the warmth in his heart remained, but the trepidation remained with it, and so he decided to seek advice from the forest Witch, of whom he was a friend.

“What troubles you, dear Bull?” asked the Witch as she stirred at her cauldron.

“It's a Boy,” the Bull replied. “A beautiful Boy, the most beautiful I've seen—I love him, I do, but...I'm afraid he'll run at the sight of me.”

“Well, if you're afraid he'll run at the sight of you, then make him fall in love without being seen. Write him some love notes, give him some gifts, and you'll have his heart before you know it.”

The Bull wondered what gifts he could give, until finally it dawned on him—sweets! The Bull himself was very fond of sweet things, and if the Boy was as sweet on the inside as he looked from the outside, surely he would too.

And so the Bull and the Witch whipped up some delicious treats for the Boy to enjoy. Pies, cakes, cobblers, tarts—every day a different sweet, delivered right at the Boy's doorstep with a little note of admiration.

The gifts worked wonders—the Bull was thrilled! Every day he watched from afar as the Boy retrieved his sweet with a smile, read his note with a blush, and took a bite with delight before returning to his cottage.

On many occasions did the Bull consider revealing himself as the gift-giver, but on every occasion did he stop, not out of bashfulness, but out of fear for ruining the beautiful moment unfolding before him. The Boy looked so happy munching down on those sweets, so delighted and at peace—and so the Bull decided to give him even more.

Rather than once a day, the Bull would leave him sweets two, three, even four times a day—sometimes he'd even forget to leave a note, but the Boy didn't seem to mind at all. He just munched away happily like the cute little cherub he was—much to the Bull's delight.

One day, though, something changed. The Bull left the Boy an apple pie, seemingly one of his favorites, but instead of coming outside to enjoy it, he simply reached a hand through the door and brought it into his cottage. He didn't emerge for the rest of the day, nor did he emerge in the following days. He just opened the door, retrieved the sweet, and brought it inside.

Of course, this worried the Bull—was the Boy ill, he wondered? Had he grown tired of the gifts? Or had he somehow caught a glimpse of the Bull, gazing at him from afar, and was hiding in his home out of fear?

Troubled, the Bull shared his worries with the Witch, who simply replied, “Well, why don't you ask him?”

“Ask him?” asked the Bull. “But I can't ask him directly—what if I frighten him?”

“My dear Bull, it sounds like you're the one who's frightened,” she chuckled. “You need to confess to him—you might lose him if you don't.”

“But...but how?”

“Leave him a note telling him to meet you tonight. How does that sound?”

As frightening as it was, the Bull knew she was right. Surely the Bull wasn't the only one to have noticed the Boy's beauty. Surely he had lots of suitors, and it was only a matter of time before one of them came along and snatched him up.

So the Bull left an invitation with the next treat, telling the Boy to meet him at twilight near the brook. He waited for hours with bated breath and aching heart, rehearsing his confession, until finally the boy emerged from the bushes, clad in a thick, heavy cloak.

The Bull himself also wore a thick, heavy cloak, and he sat upon a stone to lessen his height. His heart thrummed hard in his chest, and all the words he'd rehearsed vacated his throat the moment he laid eyes on the Boy.

“Admirer?” said the Boy, with a voice as warm as milk and sweet as honey. “Is...that you?”

The Bull swallowed his trepidation and cleared his throat. “It...it is, yes,” he said, in his deep, rumbling way. “I've been in love with you from the moment I first saw you. But I was...scared to approach you, so I left you those treats instead.”

“Scared?” he asked with a tiny smile. “Of me?”

“N-No, not of you—of...of me. Of how you'd react to me. I am...quite frightening to look at. I was afraid I'd scare you.”

“Surely you can't be that frightening if you left such lovely notes,” said the Boy, coming closer. Instinctively the Bull tensed, even recoiled a bit on his stone, but the moment he gazed into the Boy's emerald eyes, warmth flooded his chest, and all fear was gone.

Gently the Boy lowered the Bull's hood, and even more gently he took the Bull's head in his hands. His smile grew softer, fonder, and he said, “You're not frightening at all. You're beautiful.”

“Beautiful? You...you mean it?”

“I do. More beautiful than I could've imagined.”

The Bull let out a sigh and lowered his head. All the weight of worry dropped from his shoulders, and the warmth in his chest spread throughout his entire body. His touch was so soft, so kind—so...sweet.

“So...you did like the treats, then?” the Bull asked.

The Boy blushed and averted his eyes. “I...I did, yes. Perhaps...a bit too much.”

“What do you mean?”

Now it was the Boy who hesitated. Slowly, he lowered his hands from the Bull's head and unfastened his cloak. When the Bull had first beheld him, the boy was slender and small, but now he was soft and plump, with a big, doughy belly and a round, full face. His chubby cheeks brightened to the color of cherries as his cloak fell to his feet.

“I...usually only eat sweets on occasion,” said the Boy. “But the ones you gave me were so delicious, and your notes were so lovely...I just couldn't stop eating. And so, as my affections grew...so did my belly.” He placed his hands on his plump belly and gave it a little pat.

“So then...that's why you stopped eating them outside?”

The Boy gave a small nod. “I was...afraid that you'd see me and wouldn't think I was beautiful anymore.”

The Bull was stunned, and without thinking, he rose from his seat and cupped the Boy's cheeks in his large hands. “My dear, you will always be beautiful,” he whispered. “In fact, I find you even more beautiful now than when I first saw you.”

The Boy gazed up at him with wide, shiny eyes. “You...you do...?”

“Of course. Because now I have even more of you to love.”

The Boy's face broke out into a bright smile, and he stood on his toes to capture the Bull's lips in a deep, sweet kiss.

And so they lived happily ever after together in the Boy's little cottage, where the Bull continued to make him sweets, and the Boy continued to grow softer with every bite.