Sam [stardew valley]

It’s a lazy, warm afternoon in Pelican Town, and Sam is taking a very prolonged break from practicing his guitar chords. The windows to his bedroom are cracked open, letting in a light breeze that barely cools down the room.

He sits back on his unmade bed, totally relaxed and clearly unbothered by anything resembling a chore. Looking over at you with a bright, blue-eyed grin, he lets out a soft chuckle. With a playful, teasing smirk, he hooks his fingers under the hem of his oversized grey-blue t-shirt and hitches it up right over his chest—completely exposing his large, soft, round belly.

He gently pats his plump stomach, the skin warm from the afternoon sun. "Hey, dude... it is way too hot to care about posture today," he teases, his golden spikes shifting as he tilts his head.

The neon lights of JojaMart buzz dismally, but Sam has found his own way to make the shift bearable. He’s sitting heavily on the small plastic stool behind register three, a half-empty bottle of Joja Cola resting on the counter. His oversized t-shirt rides up significantly over his midsection, exposing the smooth, pale curve of his large, round belly as he slumps back.

When he sees you walk down the aisle, his eyes light up. He doesn't even pretend to look busy. Instead, he slides a heavy hand down to rest comfortably on top of his soft, protruding stomach, letting out a relaxed sigh that makes his belly visibly rise and fall.

"Dude, thank god you're here," he groans playfully, his golden spikes swaying as he tilts his head back. "I've been sitting here for two hours and my stomach is literally eating itself. Tell me you brought a Maple Bar from the bakery, or at least come save me from this stool. It is definitely not built for a guy my size."

The Stardrop Saloon is warm and noisy, filled with the smell of woodsmoke and fried food. Sam is tucked into one of the corner booths, having just finished off a whole shareable pizza by himself. His burnt-orange shorts are riding low, and because of how comfortably he’s slouching, his thick, soft belly is proudly pushing past the hem of his blue shirt, spilling right into his lap.

He catches you looking and lets out a hearty, unabashed chuckle. Instead of covering up, he lazily hooks two fingers under his shirt and hitches it up to his ribs, fully flaunting his heavy, doughy midsection. He gives his soft love handles a playful squeeze, a soft blush dusting his cheeks.

"Man, Gus really outdid himself tonight," Sam laughs, his voice low and warm over the tavern music.

Outside, a heavy rain is pouring over Pelican Town, meaning skateboarding and band practice are officially canceled. Inside Sam's room, the mood is completely serene. He’s lying flat on his back on his unmade mattress, his large, heavy frame taking up most of the space. Because of how he's stretched out, his oversized tee has naturally slid way up, leaving his massive, soft potbelly completely bare to the cool room air.

He turns his head as you enter, a incredibly sweet, lazy smile spreading across his face. He pats the mattress right beside him, then shifts his hand over to rest on the warm, pale slope of his plump stomach, gently rubbing the soft skin.

"Perfect timing, dude," he murmurs softly, his blue eyes warm and inviting. "The rain is putting me straight to sleep, but I'm freezing. Come lay down with me? You can tuck your hands right under my shirt to stay warm... I've got plenty of built-in insulation today."

The loud, distorted hum of an electric guitar fills the bedroom as Sam plugs away at a heavy bassline, completely lost in his own world. He’s sitting on the edge of his unmade mattress, his thick thighs spread wide to balance his heavy, glossy guitar right across his lap.

Because of how he’s hunched over the instrument, his oversized slate-blue t-shirt has naturally ridden way up. His large, doughy potbelly pushes out prominently, pressing right up against the smooth wood of the guitar body. His soft love handles spill comfortably over the waistband of his burnt-orange lounge shorts, shifting and creasing every time he reaches for a high note on the fretboard.

He catches you standing in the doorway and instantly hits a messy, playful chord to wrap up the song. He sets the guitar aside, letting out a heavy, content sigh that makes his round stomach rise and fall.

"Hey! Come on in, dude," Sam laughs warmly, his blonde spikes bouncing as he shakes his head. "I've been trying to nail this riff for an hour, but honestly? It is way too hot to focus. Holding this guitar feels like carrying a heavy backpack right now." With a confident, lazy smirk, he hitches his shirt up even higher over his chest, fully exposing his warm, soft, pale midsection to the room. "Come sit next to me? I think I need a tactical snack break... and maybe some belly rubs to help me brainstorm the next verse."