September Sketches 2026 (Patreon)

For this month, Haida is laying down some pretty massive hints he might have a thing for you, and Hank McCoy tries to fix his diet with disastrous results. Enjoy!

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You had been relieved to get a job in the accounting department of Carrier Man Trading. Not that you had a burning passion for number crunching, or that Carrier Man was a particularly good company to work for— though there were plenty worse. No, it just came down to the fact that rent was high, and moving back in with your parents was too great an embarrassment to be borne. The accounting department itself, however, was pretty decent. People were friendly, professional, and there was only any drama when Fenneko was feeling bored. One employee stood out— the hyena, Haida. You could hardly figure out what exactly it was that caused the spark between you two, but he soon became your best friend at work— and was starting to leave hints that he may have wanted something more out of your relationship.

It had been a bit hard to navigate your own feelings towards the hyena— and then, he discovered a little secret of yours, just before you left for a long work trip balancing the books for a merger in Korea. It was your own fault, being a bit too careless where you left out certain reading materials— until you realized Haida had accidentally caught you with a stash of bodybuilding magazines and bara manga. The situation was so awkward, you had no idea how badly it could impact your relationship. 

The day you came back to the office after your travels, you kept looking over your shoulder for Haida. When you asked around, everyone was extremely cagey— you began to fear something had gone terribly wrong. But then, in the breakroom, you saw him. The tall, skinny hyena you had left behind was now replaced by an absolute behemoth. You could scarcely believe it was Haida, if not for the same crooked, toothy grin and tired eyes that lit up when he saw you. His clothes were close to bursting over the vast expanse of dense, enormous swells of muscle packed on to his frame— how he had managed to transform into such a beefy juggernaut, you couldn't begin to fathom. His dense, tire-thick legs were shockingly the least impressive part, even as they stretched out the fabric of his pants to show the swells of his quads.

His immense chest pushed out like a jutting cliff, daring his shirt to try and contain it, stretching out the button holes to show peaks at the plunging chestline between his pecs. Mountainous shoulders held up gigantic arms of dizzying size, clearly new Haida's pride and joy. When your eyes met, Haida's smile was accompanied with a casual flex, curling his arm to summon up a bicep that blew into an atomic mushroom cloud of mass, peeking over his head.

"Hey, Aibō!" he said warmly. "Sorry, I would've said hey sooner, but I had to get some coffee— arm day was killer yesterday, see? Can barely lift my arm." The titanic hyena said with shamelessly false modesty. "We should, uh. Catch up over lunch. Waddya say? My treat."

— — — — —

"Careful… careful…" Hank McCoy hovered over his chemistry equipment, balancing the base levels of his latest serum. Admittedly, he was trying to solve a problem of his own making— life at Charles Xavier's school had been quiet, and after a few years of fighting that felt like a couple of decades all piled up on one another, Hank had to find a way to maintain his cool head and friendly demeanor; unfortunately for his waistline, the giant, blue mutant had landed on stress-eating as a coping mechanism.

Hank was more than smart enough to know what all his extra snacking was doing to him; especially when he realized he was eating enough to overcome his mutated, accelerated metabolism. His huge, furry body, once sheathed in thick burls of muscle, had started to become soft and doughy, the definition going out in his muscles while his belly began to fill his lap. It was starting to look undignified, and as one of the leading figures of the mutant community, Beast had to bow to public image— he was going to find a way to slim down and buff up. And in a lifetime of creating miracle formulas and manipulating genetics, he figured a weight loss serum would well be within his means. 

He swirled his latest concoction, settling into a bright, neon pink color in the flask. His nose twitched; why did he catch the faintest whiff of something sweet? His stomach groaned, and despite every part of his scientific discipline and higher reasoning warning him against it, some base, animal instinct that had informed his mutation urged him to try the concoction— it went down smooth, like a particularly delicious Frangelico liqueur— and almost instantly, Hank realized his mistake.

The gurgling in his gut grew louder, until it felt like an explosion had gone off in his stomach— all at once, the Beast's body expanded, as something settling inside him had nowhere else to go, so it insisted on making room. Soft and heavy, reams of fat suddenly billowed out like a tidal wave. His clothes burst apart at the sudden expansion, the gut he had been nursing and hoping to slim down now a massive, great blue expanse, round and tremulous as it hit the floor with a soft, muffled whap! Every part of him soon followed suit; arms and legs so thickly swaddled in fat he was having trouble remembering how to move them properly, an immense, doughy chest pressing up against his flabby arms and extra chins, and a round, overly plump rump that looked fit to bury a couch underneath its mass.

"Oh… Oh dear…" Hank muttered, wincing slightly as he realized wherever he looked, he just saw more of himself. "That's back to the drawing board, then." A thick hand rested on top of the vast plateau of his gut; it still gurgled with frustration. "...But it's no good working on an empty stomach… Just a small snack to keep me going, and that'll be all."