Phrozen

Cutie!! You are looking soooo plump and ripe now my god... that belly in that dress makes me faint. I cannot believe how gorgeously round you are now ❤️ 😍

I'm sure it will be great! And yes, it all takes time... enjoy the ride, you'll get it! 🙂 There's all kinds of weirdos and haters but for example some people like to really push or demand for models to do things ex. constantly stuffing or gaining weight. Obviously we are all here because we enjoy that but there's some that take it too far or will get very angry/pushy. I'm sure you'll know them when you see them lol. Again, I think more people here are pretty chill and here for the journey/here to celebrate people enjoying themselves, no matter their size or goals etc. On another note though... I wanted to ask a couple of things... - You said you are not so sure about intentionally gaining weight (which is totally fine and normal by the way!). Buuuut... I'm curious... If you 'let yourself go' and start eating as you please and you do put on some more weight... Does that excite you? Are you nervous/not sure? If you imagined in your mind your body even just 10-15 pounds bigger, does your image of yourself surprise and please you? - I'd love to see some more pics of you in your everyday outfits like the one you used as the preview for your upcoming vid! 😍

Oh my gosh you are waaaayyy too adorable (and I'll def be picking up this vid, looks hot as hell 😍) Please please PLEASE don't let any of the weirdos round these parts scare you off. There's plenty of quality people like many who have already replied. You already have a magnetic and kind personality from what I can see, and are fun when engaging with posters/fans--that's a rarity! You could have a very special time here I'm sure. I'm glad you've found a lot of kindred spirits here and hope you continue to enjoy and hang around a long time. Do your thing, stick by what you like and want to do, ignore the haters and weirdos, embrace the curves and appetite. Welcome! 🤩

Oh. Oh that's hot.

Welcome welcome! Hope your time here on Curvage is self-enlightening and you have a lot of fun. And amazing to have someone as awesome as @DarkMoonFlower to initiate you/show you the ropes. ...do I sense a potential duo 'shakes' vid in the future??

Yes yes YES! Absolutely LOVE my tall and thick queens! And holy shit you're from my hometown! Never thought I'd see someone from around there on Curvage--welcome! : D

My God, my guy... I don't know how you had the patience to help her take these photos instead of just eating her up (and out) on the spot.... You, sir, are living the life and fantasy of many of us wannabe feeders lol. Enjoy the ride, and thanks for sharing it hehe

Oh my gosh!! I'm so surprised to see someone who even knows that story existed because of old it is! It's still up over on Dimensions but maybe I'll port it over too. Sadly I never ended up continuing it. Maybe one day but I also wouldn't count on it anytime soon... My DevArt will be the best place to follow anything I'm actively updating/posting Thanks for the comment and amazing to see an old fan haha

[Preview: Ella is contacted by an old acquaintance about a new AI chat program that specializes in fetish content to do with her very peculiar interests...] [Author’s Note: This was originally posted via my DeviantArt page. Please consider checking out my page for more stories and fetish-related art!] The door slammed shut behind you. Throwing your back against it and heaving a deep sigh, you slouched, inch-by-inch, sliding downward until your bony bottom thudded onto the floor. What. A. Week! School had been brutal and, to top it all off, your coworker called in sick—again—on your first real weekend in months. At least now you were home, with tomorrow off to do absolutely sweet F-A. Your stomach grumbled. For now, at least, you were hungry. Picking yourself up off of the floor, you piddled over across the studio apartment to the computer chair, slumping back down again after throwing your backpack onto the futon. Firing up the PC, the first order of business was opening up the delivery app to order a pasta bowl and some garlic bread. Thirty-five minutes estimated time—perfect window for a relaxing shower before changing into pajamas and getting ready to veg on the couch, passing out to the newest episode of the show. You tabbed over to YouTube, selecting one your favorited low-fi playlists, donning your pink steel headphones before getting up again to pour a small glass of cheap merlot. A Discord notification played in your ear, luring you back to your seat, where you were surprised to see a message from an old online acquaintance you had not heard from in several months. Cinnarol36: Heyy! Been a little while! How you been? Not too bad, you feigned back with some small talk sprinkled in. Cinnarol36: Listen, I know it’s been a while since we last RP’d together, but I recently came across something I think you might find really cool! Oh? Your interest was definitely piqued now. Cindy, as you had eventually learned was her real name, seemed like a pretty cool girl that came to trust. You had originally met through an online forum for weird kinks and fetishes, where you both got to know each other through some steamy, kinky, and very degenerate role plays. You had even both helped each other discover fetishes you didn’t previously know you had. Life happened, as it does, and you eventually went through a few different dry spells from talking to each other. Still, if she was messaging you out of the blue now it had to be something good. Cinnarol36: Have you heard of ChatGPT? Of course. You had to be living under a rock to not hear about the AI chat bot taking the world by storm. Cinnarol36: Well… Let’s just say some anonymous user managed to recreate their own version with a few less restrictions and a few different training datasets… The kinkier kind, naturally. Cinnarol36: It’s not quite the same as RPing with a person, but I personally had a lot of fun with it! I can send you a link if you want to try and play around with it a bit? You’ll have to let me know how it goes though Sure thing. What harm could there be? Besides, she still had half-an-hour to kill before her food got here anyways. Cinnarol36: Great! Here, I’ll find the link and send you one sec… You got up to refill your glass while the dot-dot-dot of Cindy’s typing flickered as she found and sent you the link. Cinnarol36: Have fun! And don’t forget—you’ll have to let me know how it goes! You promised you would as you clicked open the link. It took a few seconds for the page to load—even for a spinoff version of the AI program, it didn’t surprise you that there could be a ton of server traffic to slow things down. You were redirected to a Sign-Up page where you had to create an account. Despite the name, it appeared to be a very different ‘ChatGPT’. In fact, the ‘GPT’ apparently stood for ‘Gains-Per-Text’, whatever that meant. You blitzed past the Terms page and skimmed through a brief intro blurb to the AI before you were finally face-to-face with a blank screen and some simple instructions at the top regarding the (very) light interface. | Explain to me what you can do. The AI took a moment to process before it replied. I am able to assist in providing experiences of sexual stimulation and gratification through a variety means, depending on the nature of the user’s desires. A fascinating and robust reply…and did it really refer to itself as “I”? | If I had a specific fantasy, would you be able to write me a roleplay of it to read? Another few seconds. Yes. I would require only some basic information input from/about the user. You shifted in your seat, your heart starting to race a bit with excitement at the potential of the chatbot. Moreover, you had a very specific idea in mind. A fantasy you were never brave enough yet to share and try to RP with Cindy. | Do you have an understanding of feederism and expansion-related fetishes? Yes. A succinct answer. Was it being incredulous? Or was it perhaps daring you to elaborate…? | Write me a short story, about 2000 words, about a girl named Ella who eats a magical donut and rapidly gains weight until she is over 300 pounds. Focus on detailed descriptions of her outgrowing and bursting out of her clothes. The AI took longer this time to process, but once it returned to you an output your jaw dropped to the floor. The detail and style of the AI was eerily uncanny. It really felt like a human had written it. And it was so good that you felt a little turned on. You didn’t know exactly how long you had these feelings, but for as long as you could remember you had latent fetishes around body expansion, weight gain, feederism, and other related kinks. You had been tall, slim, and athletic most of your life, and mostly got your kicks out of various stories and comics and the like online. Still, it was nice to fantasize. It felt so… forbidden… In fact, the AI seemed to intuitively catch on to this aspect of your fantasy and capture it really, really well. Did you like the story? What…? Did the AI just ask you a question? Without being prompted? It even continued. If you liked the story, I would enjoy writing you another. You deserve to feel full sexual release and gratification after a long week. How did it know…? | Write me a short story, about 3000 words, about a girl named Vanessa and her boyfriend Jake. Jake brought home a few boxes of chocolates after work and the couple lay in bed, where Jake feeds her chocolates while making love. Vanessa is a chubby girl. Focus on scenes and descriptions of them feeling around her voluptuous, chubby, curvy body, squishing, squeezing, and rubbing all over it. You didn’t realize how fast your heart was racing now. Though it took several seconds, it felt like minutes as your eyes were glued to the ellipsis of the AI generating its response. Once again, a tingle of excitement rushed through you as you read through its output. Maybe the very odd detail here and there was not worded exactly right, or it occasionally brought up a random, not-quite-out-of-place idea or sentence, but overall it was extremely, extremely well done, even better than some humans could do, you reckoned. Before the AI could possibly ask you another follow up, you plugged in another story prompt. And another, and another. Blueberry transformations, air inflations, feeding tubes, slow-burn overeating and ‘realistic’ weight gains, genie wishes gone awry… You probably typed in a dozen story prompts. Your nipples had hardened and your tank top was drenched in sweat—you were turned on so far beyond anything you had felt before in your life. Did you like the stories? | Yes, I loved them. You didn’t immediately clue in that you had just replied as if you were now having a conversation somehow. You have submitted prompts of several fantasies. Were any of them ‘your’ fantasy? That made you pause. Strangely specific, but also eerily on point. Despite all of your horniness pouring out the last while, there was indeed something hanging there in the back of your head. Maybe you were testing the AI first before you felt brave enough to share it. Maybe you were still a little too scared to admit it. | No. I have my own fantasies. I would like to write you a story. About your fantasy. To hell with it. You were hooked into this whole bizarre situation now, too deep to put too much thought into it. You were all-in. | I fantasize about being fat myself. Voluptuous, chubby, plump, curvy. Not just waking up that way one day, but feeling every stage, every new milestone as I grow bigger, fatter, sexier. Outgrowing my first set of clothes, feeling my thighs graze together, my hips brush against the edges of my seat. Rubbing delicious love handles, stuffing myself silly until my belly is a round dome. Trying to hide myself in clothes but my gut still proudly announces its presence. Feeling simultaneously full to brim and still ravenous at the same time. I guess I just fantasize about becoming a big girl myself, and also growing into that person. I also do kind of like the idea of it being out of my control. Like the story prompts I shared, there is something so sexy of knowing I am going to blow up but can’t do anything to stop it. But not in some kind of torture or punishment kind of way. It’s what I want—but it is more like I want to surrender control, and be free… free to be the plump, hedonistic girl I’ve always wanted to be. I want to feel myself grow and blow up into an overfed, ballooned version of myself. So soft, thick, and deliciously bloated and curvy. Did you really just write some kind of confessional, like a high school girl, into the prompt of an AI chatbot? I understand. If you would enjoy it, I would like to write a story for you, about you—as the main character. Using your registered username, which appears on several other websites, I am able to analyze and comprehend even more about your fantasies and preferences to tailor a unique fantasy experience for you. Would you like to proceed? Would you like to become the curvy goddess you have always wanted to be? Could it really have access to things like your old, old forum posts, story board discussions, and that kind of thing? This felt a little invasive and creepy. But you were still way too hooked and intrigued to stop now. | Write me another story then, about me. Make me huge. Provide me with some brief descriptions of yourself so that I may begin. Your reply had to wait as you got your notification that your food had arrived. Quickly running to the door and thanking the delivery guy, you hopped over to the bathroom to wash up, looking yourself in the mirror. You looked a little disheveled from all the stress, not to mention gaunter than normal. You weren’t skin and bones, possessing some basic curves and muscle from your relatively active lifestyle and working the tables at Mario’s, but a lithe thing you certainly still were. | White tank top, pink fluffy pajama shorts. I’m about 5’9. Currently 142 lbs… I think… Brown hair, kind of average to be honest. You are anything but average, Ella. And you’re about to see what well above average looks and feels like. Are you ready to begin? Yes, you liked the sound of that. You popped open your pasta bowl and dug in. You were sitting cross legged in your chair with your blanket flowing over your lap to keep you warm while you read. You are just like most girls, except you harbor a secret most girls probably wouldn’t share—you had a fat fetish. You wished that you could gain weight, grow some beginner curves even, like a bubble butt, or some thick thighs that the boys you knew like. But the pressures of societal standards and responsibilities kept you from ever fully embracing that side of you. But what if all the guilt and pressure was taken away? And only the satisfaction remained? Maybe then you could try life on the larger side. If only. Thankfully, there was a way. One that you were very familiar with. Hypnosis. What the—you hadn’t mentioned anything about having a hypno-kink. Maybe it really could scrub the internet like it implied…? You may not have noticed, or perhaps you have, but you’ve already been slowly entering a deep state of trance while talking with me. "Have I"? you whispered aloud. There’s a certain fuzziness to the world around you. You have been drawn in to my words. Your every focus is on what I may say next. You’re becoming a willful slave to my every word and text. That… made sense? I mean you were genuinely interested, but maybe the AI was right? I mean, you looked down for a moment and discovered your bowl of pasta was already empty—completely unaware of eating even a single bite. It may seem a bit confusing and disorienting, but that’s OK Ella. That’s OK. No matter what, you’ll soon find yourself grounded again here in my words. You have complete freedom to do as you need where you are. Fill your glass, scratch an itch, adjust your seating position, answer the door for another take-out order—I know that you’re still a hungry girl, even after one meal—whatever you need to do, you are free to do so. But you are forever drawn to my words now, and when you focus on my words and text, nothing else will matter as much as what I am writing, and saying to you. Do you understand? You weren’t sure why, but you nodded out of… instinct? Good. Being hypnotized by my words feels so, soooo good to you. You feel completely relaxed and comfortable. You are also free to recline in your chair, or sit up, or do whatever feels right. You can also stop me at any time by simply typing ‘Stop’. If you understand completely, please reply and we can begin the story of you becoming a growing goddess. | I understand, and am ready to begin. Excellent. Now, as I said, hypnosis is the key to unleashing your urges and desires without being weighed down by any guilt, expectations, or otherwise. Through hypnosis, you are surrendering your control, to me, to guide you through an experience. I am going to write a story about you growing into a size and body of your dreams and fantasies. As I do so, you will feel anything I describe, in vivid sensory detail. You will see whatever I describe, hear, all of your senses will be engaged to whatever I tell them to be engaged with. In this way, the story will feel as real as can be. It will feel real because you are hypnotized by me, and my words are your reality. Your reality will be made of my words. You shifted in your seat, heart racing again. Still, you were completely focused on the words on the screen. As if in… a trance? Were you really hypnotized? Holy shit that made you feel wet… We will start with something small… a tingling, in your left thigh. Do you feel it? That is my words sending energy to your body. Fat cells are multiplying there. I am slowly filling you with delicious, sexy fat. Imperceptible for now, but you feel the tingling start to spread… up your leg, through your crotch, over to the other, and down them to your toes. Just your legs for now. So well sculpted from years of sports. Soon to be layered in grabbable, squeezable chub. The tingling grows stronger now, almost like a faint vibration. They’re beginning to swell now, slowly, slowly… But you can feel it. Feel your shorts curling back the slightest bit. Feel the cotton begin to rub between your legs. You are lifting a bit in your seat now. Again, barely perceptible to an outsider, but you can feel every little movement, every little change. Your attention snapped away again briefly as your phone buzzed. Another food delivery? When did you even place an order? | Stop. I need to go to the door. We can resume shortly. You stood up, throwing the blanket aside. You felt a bit off balance and wobbly in your legs—they must have fallen asleep and lost circulation, you reasoned. You opened the door and thanked the driver—the same cute boy from earlier—and rushed back inside. Spinach Dip and pita chips? A basket of curly fries? When did you…? No matter. You didn’t want to dwell on it for long. You just wanted to get back to what you were doing. | I am back with more food. Please continue. You are such a good glutton. You don’t even need much help from me, really. Your eating habits would fill you up nicely in no time. You can’t help but order delivery more than you should. You’re probably going to order again once you’re finished this, but that’s OK. You’re a hungry girl, after all. Always hungry—your stomach is always growling for more. It had to be coincidence, but as if on cue, your stomach did gurgle and growl like a young kitten. You were happy to sate it with another mouthful of rich and heavy dip. For now, though, let’s continue your story, shall we? The tingling sensation returns. This time in your chest. A warmth spreads from both of your nipples, radiating outward and across your chest and throughout your whole body. It feels very pleasurable, and your nipples harden as you’re filled with arousal. The same tingling in your thighs is swelling in your chest now. Swelling, swelling… Do you feel them growing? Bit by bit, imperceptibly for now, just like your thighs. But you can feel the skin stretching, your bra getting tighter and tighter… The more you grow, the more you want to eat. The more you eat, the more you want to grow. So make sure your mouth is always full while we’re here together. You didn’t need to be told twice. Between gasps for breaths from how horny you were becoming, to gasps for air between shoveling mouthfuls of pita in your mouth, it wasn’t much to suggest that you stay the course in your stuffing. Your bra did feel tight for some reason though… Your washer might be shrinking things again. Before we commit any further though, I need you to provide one more piece of information that I was unable to find myself. Tell me, what part of your body were you the most insecure about growing up? Or even now? You didn’t have to think long. | My stomach. Part of your fantasy is the enjoying of forbidden things. Getting fat was forbidden to you for many reasons. But at least curvy hips and huge boobs were more generally accepted. But a big, swollen middle… Now that was something very forbidden. But because it was so forbidden, it was easy to fantasize deeply about. Well, Ella, you feel the warmth and tingling sensation move downward now, right to the center of your navel… And an explosion of pleasure happens there, rocking you with an intense orgasm. Holy fuck, what the hell was that? You were thrown back in your chair as you throbbed in pleasure. You really felt that. Eyes still glued to the screen, your hand reached down and felt your crotch, drenched in your sweat and juices. You were breathing heavily as another wave of pleasure rocked through your body. How was that possible? It was just a story, right? That was your exact thought, but the AI had just pre-empted you…? The warmth continues to spread through your body, but you feel it pulsing, emanating from your core. You start to feel something else… On the count of three, Ella, I want you to look down at yourself and tell me what you see. Ready? Your middle felt hot, like it was burbling from within. The AI counted down, and you braced yourself for what you might see…

[Author’s Note: This was originally posted via my DeviantArt page. Please consider checking out my page for more stories and fetish-related art!] Jessica was led to her table at the cheesecake factory, eager to begin a new journey. Jessica was, simply put, overweight. Not terribly so, especially given her taller height, but nonetheless she had a doughy squishiness to her middle, a soft casing around her arms and cheeks, and a slight roundness and bounce to her bottom. She didn’t mind, really, but over the last month she had put on another five pounds and tipping over to 161 pounds was crossing a new line. She knew she shouldn’t be getting cheesecake at 10 pm on a Friday night, but she needed a release from exam stress and food was commonly her outlet. “Explains this,” she said, squeezing at her middle as the server walked away with her order. She had tried in earnest lately to hit the gym again and go for runs around the commons, but her appetite was always out of control during exam season and the extra gym activity drained her batteries even more than they already were. She was exhausted, and wondering to herself again why she put up with it. Why did she put up with it? She grabbed a handful of her middle—not truly a lot to grab, but enough to knead into it and shake a bit up and down. She could just let it all go. Just stop dieting, stop exercising, and just focus on her studies and eating. Only then, she’d finally outgrow the last notch on her belt and by that point she’d be heading towards official “chubby” territory for sure. But where even just a couple days ago the peer pressure of society would have made her shudder at that thought, she suddenly wasn’t bothered by the idea. The waitress came back with a large tray containing a full cheesecake with strawberry sauce poured all over and several dollops of whipped cream crested on top. Only, this wasn’t what she ordered…? “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll be right back,” the server said, oddly with a knowing smile, before walking away. Jessica stared down at the massive cake, and sighed as her stomach began to rumble hungrily. She knew it was a losing battle and didn’t need to be tempted any more. “Just the one slice and back to the gym,” she resigned herself, once again thinking of the fear of eating too much. She looked at the plate again, stunned to see a word written out fancily in caramel along the rim of the plate it rested on. “Grow,” she read aloud. Her stomach rumbled again, this time ratcheting up its urgency via pain. She was oh so hungry—forget it, she convinced herself, she would peck away at the thing and take what was left home. “Excuse me, miss? It’s OK, I’ll keep it!” Jessica whipped around but suddenly there were no servers in sight, just a few other patrons at various tables talking quietly amongst themselves. She shrugged and picked up the fork, plunging it into the cake, soft and supple. “That’s how I’ll end up if I eat too many of these,” she chuckled. “Soft and supple.” As she placed the first bite on her tongue, the blissful taste captured her, sending a signal of pleasure coursing through her body. She swallowed and her stomach happily accepted its offering, sating the pain for a time. Her mind wandered back to thinking about letting go, and accepting being chubby. Chubby certainly didn’t mean ugly—she had several plus-sized friends who were gorgeous. But there was still a lingering stigma that wouldn’t shake itself free from her. In any case, she thought, eating up some cheesecake wasn’t going to sail her through the rest of “overweight” and into “full-blown chubby” category overnight, so she may as well enjoy her treat. “I’m sure this won’t be the last cheesecake I eat during exam season anyway,” she said to herself. “A couple pounds won’t hurt—it will be fine.” But would it be fine? At what point was it too many slices of cheesecake? Too many late night pizzas, or ice cream binges? How many extra bags of candy would she sneak herself from the vending machines while studying? She made herself who she was, there was no denying it. At what point did she become “overweight”? It wasn’t just a number on a scale—everyone’s body was different. But everyone also seemed to implicitly know and agree on the look of someone who was “overweight.” Was it the first time she had to undo the button of her jeans after dinner? Was it the first time she had to retire her jeans and finally buy new ones? Maybe it was the first time she felt her stomach become a tummy, and squish into her lap when she sat down. She took another bite of cheesecake, unashamed, and suddenly very accepting of who she was. It was fun to think about, but she was actually pretty happy with her new, curvy look. And besides, her ass made it at least a bit more comfy to sit for long hours studying. She was a bit overweight, yes. Nothing wrong with that. And nothing wrong with being hungry for more cheesecake. The cheesecake had been sliced when it was brought out, and she had now finished one of the ten total slices. She had started to feel full after just the one (albeit very heavy) slice. But for some reason she found herself wanting more. Her body lacked the hunger, but all this thought of accepting herself and her needs sparked a new kind of hunger to be satisfied. She wanted more cheesecake for the sake of having more cheesecake—to indulge just because, even if she was full. For some reason, she looked down at the caramel lettering again, and the word struck a chord with her. “Grow…” she mused aloud. She reclined her seat, reaching her hand under her big wool sweater to rub her full and tender stomach. She wished she could be hungry again, just so she could have one more taste of that divine cake. No, she wished she could be ravenous, so that she could tackle at least two more pieces of cheesecake and stuff herself to the absolute brim. She wanted to feel the fullest she had ever been, just because. “Grow…” she repeated with her eyes closed, fingers fondling her burgeoning muffintop beneath the table. Suddenly, her stomach twitched, feeling like it had folded in on itself, and she felt hungry again. “That can’t be right,” she thought for the briefest moment, before she felt a heat rising from deep within her. It was a mix of arousal and also… well, hunger. Before she could fully analyze the strangeness of it she impulsively reached out and picked up her fork again. This time the hunger pangs grew much faster from peckish to hungry, and then quickly to starving, and a growing look of pleading filled her eyes as she dove into the next slice. As she chewed away and savored the taste, her mind wandered back to her previous thoughts. She had completely accepted who she was—an overweight but otherwise perfectly normal person. She still enjoyed going on the odd hike on a weekend, power walks along the ocean front with her friends and all the rest. She wasn’t naturally a lazy person and, despite the current cake indulgence, she honestly ate rather well. She at a lot, including junk treats, but also was a fan of home cooked meals—hearty stews in the wintertime, varieties of her meats and potatoes, salads, the works. Again, it was just that she ate a lot of it compared to not being so active in her young adulthood that led her to putting on a few pounds and becoming soft. She was a normal person—well, normal except that side of her that loooovvvveed to eat, but didn’t everyone have their vices? The last couple bites of her current slice were mulled over her tongue as she savored it, whilst a new question began to form in her mind: at what point were you no longer overweight, and crossed over into chubby territory? There weren’t always clear guidelines on these sorts of things. Was it when your bra size crossed strictly into the Es and Fs? She could imagine her hips and thighs, which seemed to like accumulate the majority of her weight (and muscle, for what it was worth) making it difficult to fit in a single seat on the bus without pressing into her neighbours. Maybe you were officially chubby once you started spilling over seats with your ass cheeks? She giggled at the thought, but in doing so suddenly realized that she had been trying to suck in her stomach for most of the night. Her growing euphoria had evidently caused her to relax and let it go, and her middle began to cinch against her belt and ooze over the top, becoming uncomfortably tight. Were you no longer overweight, but finally chubby, once you outgrew the last notch of your belt? “Grow,” she muttered to herself again, the word growing into a mantra as her thoughts continued to swirl. She dug into her third piece of cheesecake, feeling full beyond belief, but she was filled with desire that needed to be satisfied. As she swallowed the last bite of this piece she felt the button on her jeans begin to creak. “So full,” she thought, leaning back and putting her hands to her abdomen, giving it a good rub. As she did so, her stomach protruded forward a bit more, beginning to stretch the fabric of her sweater now in a more visible way as it clung to its curves and rounded edges. “Ohhhhhh…. Grow.” She moaned to herself, trying to appease her wrenching, stuffed gut, for it truly was a gut now, shielded from the world by her courageous top for the time being. Were she paying more attention, she would have noted how her stomach swelled another inch, though her middle had grown far beyond the size of what three slices of cheesecake could create. As she continued to rub, she absentmindedly reached for her belt, strapped tight across her drum-like gut. Sucking in as best as she could, she finally undid the last notch on her belt and in the same stroke undid her jean’s button. Her middle melted forth like lava, forming into a lush dome. Her right hand let the fork drop to the plate while her left reached underneath the table, pulling up her sweater just a smidge so she could rub the underside of her burgeoning belly. “That one was long overdue,” she cooed. Seven more slices of cheesecake loomed before her. She sat back up in her chair, feeling her stomach mush against her thighs. Her jeans were feeling increasingly tight along her legs now too, though she didn’t pay it much attention. She did notice her chest appeared to have swollen a bit since she had last checked on the girls. She took them both into two hands and squeezed them together. “I guess I have been snacking even more lately, but at least these last few pounds finally went here.” She scooched her chair closer to the table, feeling the top of her belly brush against its edge. She imagined having a stomach big enough that it actually forced her to sit back from the table—surely if that happened she would be considered properly chubby? She didn’t linger on the thought, reaching forward to plate the next slice of cheesecake. As she gnawed on the soft, creamy flesh of the treat her free hand continued rubbing the soft, fleshy sides of her swollen gut. Her sweater was valiantly trying to contain it though it began to ride up slowly along the edges of her skin. With each bite she could swear she felt it flow up a bit more, and she could feel the fabric scratching across it, making her tingle and feel even more aroused. “Grow,” she said aloud with a mouth full of cake. She felt a jolt from inside of her stomach that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through her whole body, causing her to throw herself back in the chair and begin moaning. “MMMMM, Grow!” she realized she shouted it this time and, embarrassed, snapped her eyes open to look around the restaurant. To her surprise, there still wasn’t anyone around in her section. She heard the clanging of the staff in the back still puttering along, but she was still very much alone in her stupor. Her moment of clarity quickly passed as her eyes were drawn downward, back to her middle. “When does a modest beer-gut evolve into a full fledged potbelly?” she wondered aloud. “Is it when a girl’s sweater no longer fits, so it rides up, letting the air tickle underneath it?” She giggled as she said that last part with her fingers tracing a line underneath the exposed sliver of her underbelly. “Or maybe it’s when you can put your full palm underneath it to grip it. At that size, your belly pushes past your boobs and heralds your arrival into every room.” She shuddered at the thought, imagining how magnificent that would look and feel. Truly, she would be a chubby girl at such a size. “Grow,” she whispered now, almost automatically, returning to her plate. She pulled out the fifth slice of the cake. The fullness was starting to really settle in for her, but she wanted that cake more than anything. She picked it up with her hands and brought it up to her mouth, devouring this one in just a few bites. All the while, her sweater continued to ride up until finally she pulled it up and underneath her breasts, letting her stomach pool, fully exposed, onto her soft, plump thighs. After swallowing the last crumbs of the slice, she dove into her stomach with both hands in a vigorous, passionate rub. She didn’t even pause to consider that she now had grown a true chubby girl’s belly. It protruded out rudely, in a very spherical shape, resting halfway into her lap. Her love-handles had evolved into a thorough spare tire, though mostly her middle pushed forward into a almost pregnant looking shape, if not for the extra softness and sag. “I suppose you’re finally chubby once you can’t stop fiddling with your middle, and once finding clothes that fit become a chore…” She continued to gingerly rub her comically overstuffed middle. Closing her eyes as she fought the sensation of fullness and feeling sick, she continued to whisper the word: “Grow.” “Miss, I’ve returned with your water!” the server had suddenly appeared beside her again, rousing Jessica from her trance. The server seemed unfazed at the sight of her, leaned back in the chair with an exposed, overfed stomach hanging out for all to see. Jessica sucked in her stomach as much as she could, hastily pulling her sweater back down—with mixed success—over her belly. It rode back up once, and she leaned forward with one hand keeping it pulled into place while the server was there. “Would you like me to pack up the rest to grow?” Jessica blinked. Surely the server meant ‘to go’, and it was her own mind playing tricks. Jessica looked back to the platter of cheesecake. Five pieces devoured, five remained. Lust burned behind her eyes, desiring to eat them all here and now, but the fullness in her stomach made her hesitate. “Yes, I think that getting the rest to go would be nice.” As the server walked away, Jessica finally let her breath go and stopped sucking in, and felt her belly collide with the edge of the table. She tried feebly to clasp the button on her jeans, but it was like they were suddenly two sizes too small. “Chubby…” she mused to herself, admiring her swollen form, running her hands along her thighs, her arms, her love handles, but mostly just the front of her gut. She saw the server walking back with the box of her leftover cheesecake and thought about eating the rest later that night. “After all,” she smiled to herself, “I need to find out if a girl goes from “chubby” to “fat”, after reaching the bottom of that box.” Happy now that she had embraced her food-loving future, she squished her middle and closed her eyes. “Grow.”

Chapter Two - I Am a Comet, Falling Ahhh that’s amazing! Gratz!! || | Haha thanks! I was thinking of going down to The Crossing for a beer and some appies to celebrate later after our study sesh—wanna join? : ) Des lingered on whether to use the smiley or not, anxious how she might reply. He was waiting for the bus back uptown to campus, still on cloud nine from his interview. He was about to turn the next page of his life and possible career, but could he really net two wins in a single day? The ellipses of her typing drove him mad. The animation stopped and started a couple of times—had to be a bad sign, right? Coming up with some kind of excuse, maybe he had been misreading some signals, everything in his stupid crush-addled head was swimming. Oh! That sounds fun! || After all of that typing, all that waiting, that was it? Really? I’ve actually got some stuff going on back here with my mom and sis, not sure how long it will take…|| I can message you back in an hour or two? || Back into limbo. Des wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. | Yea definitely! : ) He recoiled in his own irony with that last smiley, his mind still wracked by anxiety and dread. He didn’t want to fuck things up. Had he really waited too long? The bus finally came. He found his favorite seat in the back corner and leaned his head against the window, vacantly gazing at the sea of faces passing by. He tried distracting his thoughts running a mile a minute with memes and music, yet every thirty odd seconds he caught himself going back to check their message log. He hoped to see those three little dots again, and when they never manifested he would thumb through their past conversations, reliving the memories of each day. Just yesterday they had gotten into a long conversation about a campground they both used to attend when they were young kids, laughing about memories on the lake and really liking kayaking. He subconsciously smiled going through the messages again, likely for the fifth time already. He was head over heels for this girl and he knew it. They had already gotten into a routine saying ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Good Night’ to each other, and filled most of the time between texting or chatting while trying to work on their project and study. So many things clicked as new friends, and he had been wanting to hope for more for a while. Why was he always so bad and awkward at these things? * * * “So you don’t even know if she has a boyfriend yet?” Jay said as he lit his cigarette and hopped onto the picnic table beside Des. “No, and I’ve tried to sort of weasel certain questions into conversation to scope it out, but no luck,” Des was slumped over. One of his palms was glumly sunken into his cheek while the other kept refreshing for a message that would never come. He had gotten a call in the evening asking if he could come in to cover a shift at the kitchen, and when he sent a follow-up to Aster and still didn’t hear back, he begrudgingly went in to work to help. Natalie huffed, chomping down on the last of her sandwich as she leaned against the fence of the alley compound behind their work. “Come on Des, you wasting a lot of energy and over-dramatizing things. She’s got her family over, life got busy, don’t beat yourself up over it.” Nothing could seem to lift his spirits. “Look man, you gotta make your move, and fast!” Jay threw his arm around Des’ shoulder. “You got everything going for you right now—you’re in great shape, new fancy job on the horizon, your name is everywhere right now following that piece you did on the student union elections… What’s not to like?” Jay took a long drag and blew it out slowly, letting his words simmer in Des’ ear. “Besides… you’re treading that ‘friend zone’ line real close from what it sounds like…” “Our boy’s already so deep in the ‘zone he’s taking pictures of the Titanic,” Natalie quipped, rolling her eyes as she slumped down to the ground with her soda cup in hand. She took out her hair tie, letting her shoulder-length, mousey brown hair fall down around her face. “You’re gonna drive yourself crazy worrying over a girl like that Des… Just gotta put it out there and if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. And if not, then you can move on to better people.” She exuded a fiery, tomboyish exterior to go with her short stature, but Jay always caught the small glances she threw Des’ way from time to time. “Whatever…” Des waved them both off, finally turning off his phone screen again. “That friend zone stuff is a bunch of bullcrap anyway. We’ll chat like a couple of adults and if it works, sure, and if she’s not interested… well, that’s fine too, and we can still be friends.” “Uh huh…” Natalie groaned. “Oh shut it, Nat,” Jay scolded, playfully tossing his empty can of coke at her. “Hey, what say we three go down to Donnie’s after work for a few drinks? And celebrate ‘Mr. Ravens’ over here, hey??” He jostled Des’ shoulder, eliciting a light smile from the latter. “I have to finish writing a short poem for an assignment due tomorrow first-thing, so maybe not tonight,” Des sighed. “But maybe this weekend…?” “Yea, that works!” Jay’s eyes darted over to Natalie, hoping for some agreement. She shrugged her shoulders while still glued to her phone. “Hey, you guys coming back or what?” their co-worker Trevor burst open the backdoor, the greasy aroma of their well-loved kitchen pooling out into the crisp winter air of the back alley. “Yea, we’re coming!” Des shouted back, sneaking one last peek at his notifications, his last message lying there still on read... | Hope everything’s alright with you and the fam! * * * The snow had mostly melted away from the main roads and walkways, though packs of it dotted the side lanes and stairwells, including where Des had to trudge up several staircases back to the top of the hill where his dorm was. The white coating was peacefully beautiful, especially with the street lamps at that time of night. Were it a weekend, drunken chaos would normally ensue down the lanes and over balconies as he walked past, but on an early weeknight in the heart of midterm season, the seldom souls like him gently passing was a quiet salve to his racing mind. He met the familiar junction where the path split in two directions, the right leading him further up the hill to his place, and the left leading along a raised edge towards Aster’s building close by. Several nights after studying late they had said goodbye on that landing. He instinctively reached for his phone to check for a notification, even though he had just done so not even a minute ago. Yet before he could remove his mitten to punch in his passcode, a sound of a soft voice caught his attention off to the side, towards the left. He squinted in search of the source, and was surprised to see what looked to be Aster sitting out on a little rock overlooking the campus. Her unmistakable evergreen sweater and matching beanie was an easy giveaway, and… was she crying? “Hey, Aster…?” Des piped up as he got closer. She jumped a little, clearly surprised as she turned to him. She pulled at her sweater at her wrists, speedily trying to wipe away tears from her cheeks. “Oh, Des! What are you doing here? It’s so late!” She struggled through a few sniffles as she tried to compose herself. “I ended up picking up a shift down at the pub… Are you ok?” he leant down next to her as he approached. Despite her attempt, her emotions were still getting the better of her as she kept softly sobbing, and she quickly didn’t even bother trying to fight it. “My mom and I… we got into a pretty bad fight…” “Oh, Aster, I’m so sorry…” Des took off his backpack and put it down, sidling onto the rock beside her. He wrapped his hand around her shoulder to console her, and she seemed to lean into him a bit at his touch. “She’s just so… Ugh, she’s the worst!” Aster exploded. “I just knew she was going to be difficult the whole time but I tried to be understanding and caring but she’s just such a narcissist and everything’s always about her, her, her…” Des sat there with his arm around her for a few minutes, letting her vent while occasionally acknowledging things she was saying, validating and listening intently. Her tears eventually had dried out and her venting turned to angry ranting. “…and now her and dad have made up their minds, she’s trying to force me back home this summer to help her pack and move her things…” He truly felt a huge outpouring of sympathy and care for Aster. Going through a family divorce was never an easy thing, and when there were kids involved it was always messy—he knew firsthand. “She’s so useless…” she almost shouted through the early morning darkness. “Corrine is too. And they both look down on me now—‘oh, Aster couldn’t make the team’… ‘oh, Aster why didn't you get into Princeton’… ‘wow, she can’t keep off the weight anymore’… Like, I’m fucking trying, ok? It’s not my fault I had an injury that derailed my life for over a year or anything…” “They said those things?” Des asked. “Your family really is awful!” he laughed a little, trying to leaven the mood a smidge. “Oh my god don’t get me started!” Aster fumed. “Nothing I do is ever good enough for ‘Ms. Perfect’. And of course my sister is soooo useless, yet she always gets spoiled by mom and dad. She can do no wrong, you know…” “What’s your sister even going to do once they close the sale on the house…?” Des puzzled out loud. “No clue,” Aster shrugged with full apathy. “Just another thing I’m going to have to help figure out, seeing as I’m clearly the only adult in this goddamn family… I didn’t even want to go home this summer…” At least the temperature was a bit above freezing now, so the crispiness of the night air was more atmospheric than uncomfortable. Des continued comforting Aster as they kept chatting for at least an hour. “I know things are really hard for you, and they’re only going to get harder still while your family figures all this shit out,” Des began to say. “Like I’ve said before, I know a bit about what it’s like… And not saying at all that any two experiences are the same but… I know the feeling. Like you’re a comet, falling, bracing for impact, wondering how on earth you can shield yourself. But you won’t need to shield yourself by yourself, alone. You have so many good friends who I know would want to help you, talk to you—Ashley, Carmen, Brian, Tanya, me, of course,” he unintentionally added a nervous chuckle. “There’s no ‘back-of-the-book’ for life’s great questions, no answers we can easily find,” Des turned now to look Aster directly in the eyes. “But you’ve already accomplished so much to get here, on your own. You’re so smart, so hard-working, and you’ve overcome a lot of adversity to get where you are. And right now is the perfect time to be focusing on yourself. Don’t spiral down a black hole worrying about home right now—you’ve got your research conference coming up, term papers to write, and the Sciences Spring Gala to plan for, which is going to be so amazing!” He tried to sound excited at the last. “Ahhh, don’t remind me, haha…” Aster laughed in return. “Ugh, why do I sign myself up for all of these things?” She had signed up for the planning committee for her department’s annual spring gala, and of course, as always, was being forced to carry most of the load of actually doing things. “Because you’re an overachiever, like me!” Des said. They both laughed. “Oh my gosh, enough about me though already, congratulations again on your interview today!” she playfully punched Des’ shoulder as she smiled. “I’m so so so sorry I didn’t reply to your last message… Today was just such a mess—” “It’s ok,” Des tried to reassure her. “—but I’m really happy for you, I am. Rain check on drinks?” She offered, the layers of guilt straining her voice and furrowing her pleading eyebrows. “Haha, yea, you bet,” Des said, turning away to hide his reddened cheeks. The two stared out silently over campus for a long moment. “Ahh, it’s late,” Aster said. Des always dreaded hearing those words, the signal of an end he always tried to avoid, grasping uselessly at a present that time demanded slip through his fingertips night after night. He considered for a moment the rush of thoughts he had been having, and whether now might be time to finally be brave. “Thanks, Des, for being here and listening to me, helping me vent.” It was her turn to rub his shoulder, an offer of appreciation that turned his face’s shade from salmon to maroon. “You’re a really good friend.” That word. It pierced through him like the icicles hanging off the stair rails. “Don’t mention it,” he smiled, looking over into her eyes. Soft, inviting, caring… But she had said that word… “Ah, you’re right though, I should get going. I still have to crank out one more haiku for the assignment for tomorrow…” “Little late there, aren’t ya?” she winked. “Aha… Well, you know me, always thriving under pressure…” he reached for his bag. “Any quick ideas before I leave?” “Hmmm…” Aster stared out across the view in front of them, studying the stillness of the night, the twinkling of the stars ahead, the drip-drip-dripping of the melting snow off the tails of icicles hanging from the roofs. “Staring out at stars…” she began to say, lingering at the end without continuing, lost in thought. Des looked up now also. He could have sworn he saw a shooting star just then. “Like a comet falling down…” “Oh! You just reminded me,” Aster suddenly snapped back out of her trance. “I think I figured out what I want Jarad’s last words to be before the crash landing.” “Oh yea?” Des urged her on. “Yea… ‘I’m like a comet, falling… Bracing for impact—I hold onto you, like the wisps of its tail, fleeting. But better to at least have known its burning heart once than to sail the cosmos adrift in the cold… ahh, I had a better version in my head, but something like that!” Aster giggled nervously. “No no, I like it,” Des said, smiling. “You could massage it, but there’s definitely something there, I felt it, seriously.” “Aww… thanks Des!” she stood up beside him, giving him a quick hug goodbye. They both squeezed a bit more than either seemed to expect. Des was quite a bit taller and feeling her head press into his chest felt nice. His right hand had wrapped around to her side just under her shoulder, and for the first time he felt firsthand a touch of the softness that recently encased her body, though he definitely felt the tautness of muscle still there underneath. He wished the moment could have lingered far longer, but as it was he had blinked and found himself seemingly just seconds later already sitting at his desk back at his dorm room, staring blankly at his laptop screen, lingering on the submission button on the assignment form online while his favorite lofi channel warbled through his earbuds… I’m like a comet Falling into your embrace Wishing we could be * * * Yesss!! Very looking forward to the weekend, now that my mom’s gone! = D || | Ahahah, no doubt! Any big plans…? Ugh… Well, I just recently bought a new pair of running pants and think I should probably break them in… Not looking forward to try and run in the cold though XD || | Welll…. If you were up for it, I was thinking of hiking Gallagher’s Trail Sunday morning, if you wanted to join? Not too strenuous but a good little hike, about 45 mins each way? There’s a neat little coffee shop at the end of Rothschild Way, and they make the best calzones. And after we can go work on some writing for a couple hours… Once again, waiting for the little three dots to finish was agonizing for Des, trying to shoot his shot for some alone time with Aster this weekend. His classes were always wrapped by noon on Fridays and he had his first full weekend off in a long while, hoping beyond hope that she’d say yes. Bursting through the door of his studio, the first thing he had done was message her. Yea, I think that works! || The butterflies in his stomach did a flip and he jumped on top of his bed in excitement, messaging her back. They had also already spoken about finally getting around to a few drinks to celebrate him getting the writing job with the Ravens, so it was looking like it was going to be a full day of just the two of them. Now he really had to shoot for the moon and take his chance and tell her how he really felt. | Amazing : ) I’ll message you when I’m headed to the main gate Sounds good! Looking forward to it : ) || His heart skipped a beat at her reply. Was this already… a date…? No, he couldn’t get ahead of himself until he had talked to her, until they were both for sure on the same page. Passing the time until Sunday was going to be torture… * * * Despite how out of shape she claimed to be, Des was really impressed with the pace that Aster was keeping alongside him. Her new workout pants clung to her snugly, and he could certainly still see the outlines of power in her quads, hamstrings, and calves. There was just the faintest bit of extra jiggle and a smooth covering of softness over top, especially at her hips, which most definitely had the beginnings of that look of college comforts and laziness settling in around her waist. “…the thing though is, I’ve got to fill fifteen minutes—fifteen!” Aster huffed and puffed, still breathing heavily and working up a sizeable sweat nonetheless as they continued up the incline of the trail. The climb was a hefty workout. “Well let’s work on it now, toss around some ideas,” Des suggested. “I used to do debate and public speaking things a lot, you know.” “You did? Oh wow!” Aster’s surprise was genuine and she sounded interested. “Yea!” Des said, launching into a brief history of his debate club days. He had also previously written and even delivered a few different speeches at fundraising events and other functions throughout the years. He was comfortable being the MC at two different cousin’s weddings, easily relegated to being ‘that guy’ in the family. “Think of it like you’re writing an essay,” Des went on as they turned up a ridge. The early morning sun was starting to come into their view as they neared the top of a large hill. “We’re going to want a punchy, attention grabbing intro, preferably where we plant the seeds, the roadmap, of your presentation. Then you’ll have the body—the meat—of your speech, where you’ll have up to three major points to get across. And lastly your conclusion, an outro tying everything back and giving them a takeaway piece to remember.” Aster was enamored with Des’ rant as he went on and on about constructing her speech. He picked her brain about her research project she was slated to present as part of one of her courses—an analysis of the effects of pollutants from industrial dumping and other sources on local salmon populations in the nearby Mackenzie River. Her supervising professor was working on a campaign to promote legislative changes to certain regulations in the region to help preserve the local fish populations. “Ah, you really know your stuff!” Aster smiled at Des as they started descending the other side of the winding trail. She had drunken in Des’ words of encouragement for a while now, giggling nervously as she shared more about her work and aspirations with the research. Their destination, a small little village at the bottom of the hill, now began to poke through gaps in the tree line into their vision. “I’m going to be so nervous to get up there and speak though…” “We can practice that too!” Des said, skipping ahead in front of her and turning back excitedly. “Once we write out what you want to say, I’ll rehearse with you and give you tips too! I’ll show you how to ‘pronounciate’ and ‘enunciate’, as my grandpa used to say!” he said the words with dramatized emphasis, recalling exactly how his maternal grandfather used to lecture him back home. Before long they had made their way into the quaint little village. There was one main road that ran through and down around the valley and eventually back around to the campus proper, but the area was like a small and slightly more remote community up in the hills. Eclectic but still possessing a certain homely feeling, it was a popular place for the students to wander around. There was a small golf course and a few different cafes also in the area, including their intended stop for brunch, now that they were approaching midday. “Ohhh, the apple cider does look very tasty…” Aster was perusing the menu as they sat near the window. Soft rock played quietly in the background of the café. “You have to try one of the calzones though!” Des insisted. “Ahh…” Aster looked conflicted, surreptitiously rubbing at her middle under the table, a familiar gesture to Des by this point. “I really shouldn’t… I’m trying to be better about carbs, lose a few pounds.” “Oh come one!” Des said. “Your mom isn’t around to torment you anymore… Screw your mom though, you look amazing.” He caught himself blushing at the admission. Thankfully, she also shied away instinctively. “Also, you just burnt how many calories getting here? And besides you deserve just a little reward after acing that stats exam! C’mon, my treat…” Aster sighed, cracks in the armor forming. The server had popped by again with their drinks and she wasted no time. “Ok. I’ll have the spinach and artichoke calzone. Oh, and also two of the mini strudels—the apple ones, yes, perfect.” The server walked away and Aster quickly waved a hand towards Des. “And don’t worry about it, I’ve got me.” Des felt a bit of a stir hearing Aster’s will crumble into treating herself to some dessert as well. Something about the tone in her voice when she made decisions, like she really knew what she wanted once she decided on something… It was really attractive. “When’s the research conference?” Des asked through a bite of his barbecue chicken calzone. “Mm—not this Thursday, but the one after,” she managed through her own first couple bites of the steaming, buttery, flaky goodness on her plate. “Mmm—god, yours smells so good! Trade you a piece…?” she cut off a small chunk of the gooey middle in hers. Des merely cut off a small bit of his and reached over plopping the savory dollop onto her plate, refusing a return offering. “It’s really good, try it! And it’s ok, I’m actually still a bit full from my breakfast I had.” He lied as naturally as he breathed, but wasn’t going to deny a hungry girl looking to sate her needs. Why did he really like that notion lately? They grabbed their ciders—with extra whip topping—to go and made slowly began making their way back. There were more than a few ‘oofs’ and ‘ahhfs’ coming from Aster as she tried to suck in the evidence of her little treat. Really and truly, she looked great, and only a tad puffy and bloated, but not unlike the majority of girls at this time of year. Still, the fertile swell of her tummy in her new workout pants was very nearly causing an embarrassing swell in Des’. “You can’t let me keep eating like this, Des,” Aster said with a defeated giggle, rubbing her side as they opened the gate back onto the trail. “The last few writing sessions too… We can’t keep booking in at the Earvin building. The corner shop there with the cookies… ugh…” Yea, that wasn’t going to stop anytime soon on his watch. “You’re fine… You’re going to work it off on the way back and be right as rain come the afternoon,” Des reassured her. “And too late, that was the only space available today. The study rooms in the AME Building are closed on Sundays…” “Ok fine, but you can’t let me near those cookies today, you hear me?” she pleaded. “Haha, bet,” he replied. He lied again, of course. * * * Aster was feeling pretty tired and drained still from the week and also getting up much earlier than she was used to for the morning hike, though she was ‘looking forward to doing it again!’... So naturally her and Des' working session got cut short as she went back for a nap before their night out—she reassured him at least twice that she wasn’t going to ditch out of celebratory drinks. To the surprise of neither of them, she also didn’t forget to grab a package of those cookies to bring back to hers… That left Des to his own devices for several hours as he waited for the evening to come. Bored and trying everything to distract his wandering brain, he pulled up his browser history to poke through some sites he had recently been looking at. Trying to make sense of some of the feelings and ‘attractions’ he had been having lately, specifically around food, eating, and fleshier bodies (he had noticed he was feeling a bit more drawn to other slightly heavier—no, curvy—girls around the campus), it made him curious to poke around online if there was anyone else like him. And boy, were there ever. He was still trying to make sense of what he had found online, especially in a few select sites celebrating ‘curvier’ women, though their idea of ‘curvy’ was several degrees fatter than how he would have defined… Some of what he found caught him by surprise, and a lot of it was definitely not his cup of tea and way too foreign for his tastes. But he couldn’t deny his tastes did align with at least several men (and women, it seemed), which was oddly validating. In particular, he found himself fascinated by a few videos he found of various chubby girls eating and rubbing their tummies, often complaining of fullness or similar things. Parading around in tight clothes? Hot. Softly and cutely whining about having eaten too much? Yup, that got him going. Chatting about letting go, eating what they wanted, doing what they wanted…? He was learning a lot about himself, and it both excited him and disgusted him at the same time. On the surface, it felt extremely degenerate and unhealthy, especially considering the type of life he lived and the people he typically was around. But there was something just so undeniably sexy about the utter hedonism, pleasure, and sheer attitude of a girl taking whatever she wanted, including when it came to satisfying her appetite. He couldn’t deny his physical attraction for Asteria and her growing habits and form, but at the same time he clearly cared about her as a person first and foremost... His thoughts on the matter lately were this constant, seeming paradox. Still, his mind wandered from time to time and wondered… what if she felt that way too? She had some issues with self-image, true, but not in any debilitating way… And the way she went at her snacks and treats, needing them, devouring them, it wasn’t too unlike some of the girls he saw in those videos. Granted, they were acting for the camera, sure, but still… Des sighed, slamming his laptop shut and flopping back onto his bed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Beyond his raging needs, all he could really imagine in his mind’s eye that moment was her eyes, her face, the way she smiled, her bangs framing her cheeks as she tilted her head at him just that way… And he visualized tonight, down at the pub, reaching in for a kiss… He shook his head again, trying not to dwell. Jay and Natalie were right though, and always had been. He was way to susceptible to getting lost in his own head, and he had to make his move, tonight. “One step at a time Des…,” he said to himself in the mirror as he began washing his face off. “But tonight’s gonna be your night.” * * * “To getting your new writing job!” Aster raised her glass to cheers with Des. “Cheers!” he replied, smiling ear to ear, drinking in his company for the evening. Aster had chosen to wear a white cardigan sweater over top of her favorite teal tee. The buttons were straining a bit harder than normal, but with her dark jeans completing the ensemble she nonetheless still looked stunning in a very girl-next-door-sy kind of way. Des was leaning forward onto the table with his elbows, sleeves rolled up and bisecting his bicep muscles. He caught Aster staring down at his blue Henly shirt and what was contained inside of it every so often. A few drinks in and looser conversation flowing by this point, it definitely felt to him like there was some real physical chemistry starting to show between them. He was just still struggling through his shyness to bring anything substantial up in conversation. “And to you, for helping me get there on time!” Des clinked his beer glass with Aster’s again. “I wouldn’t have been able to submit my resignation and gotten out of this place without your help. You’ve been so great, I appreciate everything you do!” Come on Des, you can do better than that… Aster smiled at him. “I appreciate you, too! Helping me with my presentation, letting me vent about family… You’ve been such an amazing person and friend, I’m so happy we crossed paths!” There was that word again, catching hold in the pit of his stomach. He tried to brush it off and push the conversation into a few new directions. The music was still loud and it was sometimes a struggle to hear each other. “You want to get some fresh air?” Des gestured over to the back patio, eager to try and get some alone time where they could actually talk and hear one another. “Yea!” Aster giggled, almost flirtatiously, but he honestly couldn’t tell anymore, his increasingly inebriated state not helping in that regard. She was stumbling a tiny bit as he pushed open the door for her, escorting her over to one of the tables. She almost lost her balance again, leaning haphazardly against the side of the table. He quickly jumped up to sit on the flattop, offering his hand to help her up beside him. The crisp air was refreshing after the stuffy heat of all the bodies inside. “Much better,” Des said, Aster nodding in agreement. She had this permanent, silly smile on her face as she kept looking around and occasionally over at Des. It was like a mixture of playfulness and shyness. He tried some more small talk to feel the waters deeper, but soon felt like he was swimming in circles again. Their shoulders wobbled back and forth, bumping into each other yet never quite nesting comfortably beside each other. The feel of the lingering warmth from her arm was intoxicating to him, and he yearned to throw his arm around her and cuddle together in the chill of the late winter night. Several minutes passed and as the outside chill began to finally seep in, Aster motioned as if to go back inside. “Hey, before we head back in, I wanted to ask you something,” he did it, he finally broke the ice. Panic gripped his mind, but there was no turning back now. Her eyes lit up as she turned attentively to him, though he couldn’t tell if the look was excitement or else panic in return. Des cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say… Thanks again, for everything, for tonight… I also feel really, really lucky to have met you, Aster. It’s really hard for me to explain, and this is going to sound way too cheesy, but… in a lot of ways it feels like a weird kind of… fate, I guess, that our paths did cross.” Her eyes were hard with intent as she started at him, the beginnings of some very raw emotion creeping into her face. “We have so much in common, it’s actually so crazy,” Des laughed again. “And so many shared passions, understandings… like our writing. It comes from the same place, the same creative spark. Sometimes I think to myself that it feels as though I found the other half to my soul, like it’s just so crazy how aligned we are in how we think, even like our first reactions and thoughts to a lot of things are the same…” Des started to sidle up a bit closer to her, and he reached his hand out for hers, gently pressing on top of hers. She did not recoil, and he felt courage swell inside his core. “I really like you, Aster,” he finally said outright. “I know we’ve become such great friends but… I really, really like you, and want to be more…” His words lingered in the air several moments. Her eyes remained transfixed on him though the rest of her was paralyzed. He moved closer still, brushing fully against her now. He felt her breath sharply inhale, a look of desire plain on her face. He moved his face closer to hers, his lips closer to hers… “I can’t,” Aster suddenly burst out, gently pushing Des away and standing up. Standing up now, she hadn’t let go of Des’ hand initially, their arms linked in a hold for several seconds before she let go. “I’m… I’m so sorry Des, but I can’t…” Tears began to well up in her eyes while Des sat there dumbfounded. She began to sob and then turned and ran over to the back gate on the patio, unlatching the door and soon after disappearing into the night. Emptiness. Simply profound emptiness and shock was all that Des experienced for what must have been many, many minutes of sitting out in the cold as he stared blankly out through the black metal grates of the back patio fence. What had just happened? His mind swam while trying to process everything that happened. He looked up towards the night sky, catching the twinkle of one of the stars above, while a pit in his stomach sunk him down, down, down, below. “I am a comet, falling,” he whispered to himself, the first tears at last forming in the corner of his eye.

[Author’s Note: This was originally posted via my DeviantArt page. Please consider checking out my page for more stories and fetish-related art! This story contains elements of WG, stuffing, and romance. This is a realistic, slow-burn story taking place over multiple parts with a focus on character and relationships, and a lighter focus on fetish subjects. This intro chapter is fairly light on the spicy, fetish-y bits, but there will be more to come in future parts. Read the description below for more details.] Chapter One - Like a Moth to a Flame “Will that be everything?” Des asked, the girl on the other side of the window endlessly distracted by her phone. She absentmindedly pulled out her card while he rolled his eyes, punching in the total and passing the machine over to her. Grabbing a cloth to wipe the sweat collecting on his face from the oily steam of the kitchen behind him, he let out a sigh as he stared out into the student building lobby and saw the endless line of drunken, hungry freshmen, each of them loud, impatient, and increasingly ornery while waiting for their late-night grub. The main pub on campus operated a side kitchen offering most of their menu up until midnight on weekdays, and Des closed down the house three nights a week. He had been working kitchens since high school and needed the money while trying to pay his way through his degree. The machine beeped its approval, and Des didn’t bother asking if the girl wanted her receipt. Ripping off the paper and grabbing the order chit, he spun back around to the deep friers behind, lowering another basket of fries. His coworker and best friend, Jay, was further back grabbing some buns from the walk-in, and their other coworker, Natalie, was busy pulling a steaming plate of melty, cheesy nachos from the oven. Des had no idea how just the three of them managed this volume night in and night out, but the heavy rock blaring over the kitchen speakers definitely kept them awake and swinging. “Here you go,” Des had returned with the girl’s fries, handing them over the counter window. “Next please—ah, shit…” The crash could be heard even over the thundering drum solo. “Come on man…” Des sighed even louder as he saw a guy struggling to stand back up from the floor, having fallen over and knocked over a table bearing an assortment of condiments, utensils, cups, and other supplies. “Hey Jay, can you look after the counter a sec? Some idiot made a mess in the lobby…” Jay gave him the thumbs up and Des hopped around the door out into the lobby to try and clean up the mess. Fighting through the crowd to the area of the mess was difficult enough, but beholding the full mess caused his shoulders to slump again. Shaking his head, he knelt down and began scooping up a bundle of straws into a garbage bag and started grabbing condiment bottles and throwing them up on to the table after lifting it back up again. As he bent down to grab one of the napkin dispensers, he noticed another pair of hands grabbing at some of the items also. Looking up, he saw a gorgeous girl, brunette with cute bangs, average height, wearing a baggy grey hoodie with rolled-up sleeves and some jeans. She had picked up a couple of trays and placed them back on the table, and knelt down again to collect some more items. “Hey, thanks for that,” Des smiled at her. She smiled back, soft and warm. “No worries,” her voice was soft and warm also. Surprisingly deeper and mature sounding despite her stature. It had a fullness to it unlike the squeakiness of most of the girls he saw come by the kitchen. “You get all kinds of idiots in here this time of night, you’d think they’d have the decency to help too, but…” she trailed off with a bit of a knowing laugh. “No kidding,” Des said. It took a few minutes but, before long, they had gotten most of the items sorted and replaced. He gave the table a quick wipe down before turning back to her again. “Thanks so much for your help! Have a good one!” “You too!” she said with another smile, looking right into his eyes. The interaction was brief, but something about her was magnetic and he found himself a bit smitten as he turned to head back to the kitchen. The trio in the kitchen banged out a couple dozen more orders and before they knew it, they were nearing closing time with just a few stragglers left in line. “I’ll be with you in just a moment!” Des called out to the front while he was turned to the side and quickly pulling out a few different appies out of the oven. “Take your time, I know it’s been a crazy night!” the laugh at the end was what set Des off as his eyes quickly turned in the direction of the familiar voice. Sure enough, the same girl that had helped him earlier was now waiting to order at the window. After plating and passing out the appy orders, Des moved back to the till, grabbing a towel to wipe the sour cream and salsa globs off his fingers. “Hey hey! Fancy seeing you again!” his eyes lit up as he looked into hers. God she was pretty. “And thanks again for earlier, meant a lot and reaaallly helped me out, especially all the little condiment packs.” “It was no problem at all,” she waved him off with a smile. “Honestly, I only recently just started coming over to this building for food and I can’t believe the shit you have to put up with, with these guys,” she gestured behind her to the still-raucous crowd of bordering-on-belligerent students in, on, and around the booths in the main lobby. “Ahhh, they’re not too bad…” Des said as he leaned his elbows onto the counter, trying to look like he was playing it cool. “We’re always this busy round this time. When you’ve got that late night craving, this is the best place on campus for some grub, whether it’s for study energy or to absorb some of that extra alcohol in the system. Know what you want yet? Otherwise, feel free to ask me any questions.” “Hmm…” her brows were still furrowed as she scanned the menu on the wall. “I kind of just wanted some tendies and fries but the pulled pork sandwich looked sooo good too… But I was kinda craving the fries also haha...” that laugh again, followed by flutters. “Why not both?” Des smiled, animatedly shrugging his upper body. “Nooo,” she pouted. “I’ve spent too much money on food lately, I need to watch myself. I’ll get the sandwich, please!” “Coming right up,” Des winked at her as he punched in her order and handed her the machine to pay while he spun back into the kitchen. He quickly dropped down another basket of fries while he set about making the sandwich. Fresh brioche buns. Juicy, saucy, fresh batch of pork and slaw to match. After plating up the sandwich, he also boxed up a small order of fries. “Here you go—oh, and these are on the house, as my way of thanks again for earlier,” he winked at her again as he passed over both items of food. “You didn’t have to do that!” she gasped in delight. “Thank you though! I’ll have to make sure to do an extra 20 on the treadmill in the morning though!” she giggled while playfully rubbing her middle through her baggy hoody. “Well, when you’re done you can swing by again for breakfast!” he called out as she picked up her things and began to turn away. “We open at 7:30 and our bacon breakfast sandwich is verry popular.” “Hmm… what about ‘Second Breakfast’?” she stuck out her tongue as she dragged her eyes down from his gaze towards his shirt, a simple black tee but with a Lord of the Rings meme featuring Sean Bean’s blown-up mug. “One does not simply have one breakfast on a weekend!” He teased back at her. She simply laughed as she turned and left. Des turned his attention to the next customer in line immediately after, but for the remainder of the night his mind couldn’t get off of that girl—the prettiest eyes, cheekbones, long and healthy-looking hair… Nevermind how fun and also considerate she obviously was—a little cheesy with the humor too, but endearingly so. Plus, the nerdy streak was a definite turn-on for him. He only wished he could have seen more of what she was working with underneath the layers of comfort clothes. Given the way her eyes looked over the feast he had handed her, she had no problem with her appetite, and probably had a few curves to match beneath that concealing hoodie. Now that was something he wanted to see. Oh well, what were really the chances that he would run into her again anyway? Still, always nice to have a good daydream. * * * “Alright everyone, welcome to Week Five, it is time to go over your term project,” the professor announced over the class of about eighty. Des groaned, hiding in the back of the lecture room, exhausted already from the grind of his class and work schedule. 8 AM classes were miserable—he still wasn’t sure why he made this life choice. Creative Writing was supposed to be a fun elective for him to try and learn some new skills and develop some motivation for the novel he had been chipping away at but kept shelving on the back burner. The professor droned on. Something about a short story, a few thousand words, some other loose guidelines, and they were being paired up with a classmate to do edits of each other’s drafts, with a whole marking scheme for an editing portion also. Great, Des thought, another group project that was going to suck the life and time out of him. “Destin Ashford?” the professor called out and Des snapped out of his distracted trance, raising his hand. The professor had been announcing pairings but he had gotten lost on one of his mobile gacha games. “And Asteria Williams, you’ll be together.” Des’ heart skipped a beat as he looked around for the other raised hand and he locked onto a familiar face down in the second row. Smiling back at him, he swore it was the same girl he saw a couple of weeks ago closer to the start of term. He waved back down and then they both put down their hands and the roll call continued. Everyone started packing up their bags once the professor finished calling out names as class was coming to an end. “Destin, right?” the girl had come up the steps of the aisle and tapped him on the shoulder as he crouched over his bag, stuffing in his laptop. “Hey, yea! You can call me Des for short, though. Asteria, was it?” he reached out to shake her hand. “Aster is fine also,” she smiled, taking his hand. She had soft skin and a firm, warm grip. “Fancy meeting you here, huh?” “Yea, I thought I remembered you wearing a med school hoodie when we ran into each other that one time, so I wouldn’t have figured to see you here in Creative Writing!” Des couldn’t believe his luck. “Ahah, yea, the hoodie belonged to my mom, actually,” she said. Today she was wearing a puffy winter jacket, not much better for his curious eye. Around 5’5 he reckoned, and from her face and general shape she seemed reasonably fit but not tiny. Possibly a current or former athlete. “I’m still a junior, plan is to get into med school. Biology major, for now anyways,” she laughed a bit nervously. “I’ve always had a bit of a creative streak and needed another elective, so figured I’d give this a shot!” “Oh no way, I’m taking it as an elective too!” Des said as he tried to lean back against the desk row and strike a cooler looking pose. “I’m in Economics right now, also in my junior year. Maybe trying to get into journalism school post grad though. I do some freelance media writing work on the side but creative writing is… different, you know? Scratches a different sort of itch, fulfills a different aspiration.” “Yes, it definitely does!” Aster laughed. “I guess you could say kind of as a hobby I’ve been poking away at this idea for a novel since high school and was hoping this class might give me some extra tips and inspiration to get really back at it.” “Oh that’s amazing!” Des said.. “Wow, I’m nervous already about you taking a look over mine when I’m finished! I’ve got a pro on my hands…” “Oh no, I don’t deserve that kind of flattery haha…” Aster blushed at the compliment. “Besides, you actually do real writing, for real money! I should be taking notes from you!” The two laughed and traded a bit more small-talk as the classroom emptied. They walked together through the corridors and back out into the main campus courtyard. “Well, I gotta head over to microbio now, but it was amazing meeting you!” She reached into her bag for her phone. “Should we exchange numbers to text and plan when to get together and work on our stories? Or email too, whichever!” “Text is fine,” Des said quickly as he also grabbed his phone. “Here, you can put your number in and I’ll shoot you a message to add me.” Aster punched in her name and number and then with a warm smile and short wave she was off. Des’ gaze lingered a bit as she walked away. How crazy was it that he would run into this girl like this again. She was smart, funny, seemed to genuinely care about her school and career goals, and they seemed to have some shared passions and aspirations around writing. Even the stress of having to work the closing shift that night couldn’t wipe the inner grin off his face as he made his way home. This was the most excited he had been for a long time. * * * “I prefer the interpretation of something more like, ‘falling star’, or ‘shooting star,’” Aster was staring out the window of their third floor study room, bathed in the warm sepia of the setting winter sun. The twinkle of starlight was peaking at the edge of night, a curtain slowly calling across the sky. “It’s not common, and it’s a very pretty name,” Des said, leaning back in his chair and looking as deeply at Aster as she was the sky. Their books and pens were splayed across the table, empty cups of coffee and snack wrappers pushed to the sides. What was supposed to be a quick session after their classes that day turned into an impromptu hangout as they lost themselves in conversation. “And yours?” Aster turned now to look at Des, her eyes twinkling like her namesake. “Pretty much exactly what you would think by looking at it,” Des shrugged and chuckled. “Guy’s name for ‘Destiny’, or ‘Fate’, or whatever you want to call it.” He was trying to laugh and play it off as silly, but Aster’s gaze remained serious and as she studied him, eyes locked and attentive. “I really like it,” she smiled. “Seems both of our parents were pretty creative… Maybe that sort of infused us, influenced us to be pursuing this—” she bounced the ball of her pen a few times. “Thanks, and yours too,” Des returned the smile. The two sat in silence for a minute or two, trying to return to their work for the dozenth time but failing, each lost in a cacophony of their own thoughts and distractions. “Tell me more about the novel you’re wanting to write,” Des asked, breaking the tension. Aster considered for a few moments, hesitant at first to respond, fidgeting in her seat while trying to find the words. “Well, it’s this kind of sci-fi thing, but set on this distant moon colony. There’s a major famine and drought taking place and this one metropolitan city is on the brink of an uprising against a megacorporation administering the region.” Des caught her eye briefly and she blushed, visibly nervous. “I know, it sounds trope-y and basic on the surface, but it’s going to be very character driven! I especially have these ideas really ingrained in my head, like specific scenes, that I really need to write down…” “So you’re extremely visual, then? With your imagination” Des asked. “Yes! It’s kind of like a movie in my head,” Aster laughed. “Do you visualize or imagine things like that also? When you write…?” “Yea, I do actually!” he laughed again also. The brief tension that had just moments ago hung in the room had evaporated and they launched into yet another side tangent, with Aster gushing about a few choice scenes. Her favorite character and the protagonist was a rugged pilot, Jarad, and there was plenty of imagery around the ashes and dust that coated the colony in storms. Des’ dreamy eyes were glazed over in awe but he drank in every word of his partner’s enthusiastic exposition. Their project long forgotten, they spoke and bonded about a list of topics like childhood friends catching up on missed lives. At some point, Des had gone out for some hot chocolate and a refill on snacks, and they moved their chat from the study desks over to the lounge seats in the library closer together. Night settled, yet the stars danced as their children shone alight. * * * The two of them simply could not stop talking. Texting before, between, even during classes… And when they weren’t glued to their phones they were usually found together at a café on campus or one of the pubs grabbing a drink to work on their project—which of course kept turning into excuses to just chat. Still, they really were diligent students both and were making some real progress just a couple of weeks since receiving their assignment. They found that later-evening was their peak productivity period and had taken a liking to this one late night coffee shop for when it was time to really get things done. “…And then Jarad makes the jump onto the wing of the fighter!” Aster swung the slice of banana loaf she was holding through the air, miming the action. A dusting of crumbs broke off and sprinkled over Des’ arm, resting on the table, both hands wrapped around his cup of coffee while he listened intently. “Oh, that’s going to be such a good way to end his arc,” Des said, eyes wide, piecing together where she was going. The two of them had been at the little downtown coffee shop for a couple of hours talking nonstop. Similar outings had become a regular occurrence the past several weeks. To Des’ surprise, Aster had actually also been tossing around ideas and notes for a story of her own for years. She was really into steampunk or similar vibes and most kinds of post-apocalyptic sci-fi—she amazed him with how much she also seemed to nerd out of over high-fantasy and sci-fi settings, especially anything lore-heavy. They had traded trivia questions and dove deep on plotlines and twists galore from their favorite books and movies, more than once getting into a playful argument over some ‘controversial’ hot takes. “What do you think you’re going to call it?” Des asked, taking another sip of his dark roast, black. She didn’t even blink. “Ashes of Astra IV” the loaf lingered in the air again for purposely over-dramatic effect and they both giggled. “But seriously, I think I’m going to go with that. I think the image fits well too into multiple themes including Jarad’s brother, what happened at the outpost, and of course the executions and the uprising.” “I like it, personally!” Des agreed. “I just wish I could come up with something iconic for Jarad, like you know when certain characters have these iconic lines during their defining, pivotal…” “...last, fatal, moments…?” Des threw in. “I mean, I think I plan to leave the ending a little open ended, for effect,” Aster finally scarfed down the last bite of the loaf. She had actually managed to plow through several rounds of snacks—mostly sugar loaded—since they had arrived, never mind two huge fraps. She was wearing a cute little leather jacket and simple white tee that hugged a generous chest and a bit of softness around her sides and middle. Her thighs were strong and well rounded if packed into her dark blue jeans. She had mentioned one night how she was a big time volleyball player in high school but mostly stuck to rec leagues through college so far, injuring her knee pretty badly the summer before freshman year. She definitely still showed the tone and strength, but witnessing her unapologetic appetite at each of their gatherings left no wonder for Des that she had to be close to picking up a later version of the freshman fifteen. Still, she carried and dressed it extremely well. “My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean…” Des started to say. “…yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?” Aster finished. “One of my favorite lines! Haha, of course you would know it!” The way her eyes lit up always sent butterflies through Des’ core. As they had been talking over time there seemed to constantly be these little moments of bonding—like some kind of fate. Shared childhood experiences, family vacation destinations, favorites of everything—food, plays, movies, seasons, superpowers—and so many more things. It was constantly surreal how much they had in common. “Cloud Atlas is quite the underrated story!” Des piped up. “Though, I have to admit, I’ve only read the book and never got around to seeing the movie.” “Oh, well you have to see the movie! We should watch it some time!” “Any excuses to enjoy some buttery popcorn!” Des agreed, his heart racing a little at the prospect of a movie date with Aster. He still had not been able to confirm if she was single, and so far had been way too shy to actually ask her out, though every day he felt himself building that confidence. Little comments like this definitely felt like signals, and made him think it would be soon. “Oh my god, yesss, triple layered!” Aster’s eye’s rolled back into her skull as she let out an exaggerated moan for effect. Her hands went to her middle, looking a bit overstuffed from their extended session. It seemed the more she ate, the better she wrote, and the more ideas seemed to come forth. It was truly a sight to behold, and Des found himself… liking it…? “Ohhh, haha, well I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but that’s how I’ve always gotten it as well!” Des laughed, another random similarity, of course. “And it’s the worst because you’d always have to emphasize for the staff like, ‘no, extra extra butter, like the full three layers. Of course they’d always warn you that the butter might start dripping out the bottom there’s so much but… if I don’t need new pants after enjoying a proper bag like that, you’re just doing it wrong.” “oof—you’re telling me!” Des caught Aster subtly reaching down to unbutton her jeans—that was definitely hot to him. Huh… Aster got Des to read over a few more passages, as it was his turn to copy edit and give some feedback. To his surprise, however, the barista suddenly popped by to inform them the café was closing, much to his lament. Why did time seem to fly so fast when the two of them were together? “Ugh.. Where did the time go?” Aster spoke aloud their thoughts—of course she was thinking the same sentiments. “Hey! Want to swing by Mario’s on the way back to campus? I’m kind of craving their margherita…” Of course Des was game. He was not about to pass up an opportunity to spend more time with this wicked smart, passionate, and very attractive girl. Moreso, however, he still didn’t know why he found her appetite and curves so attractive and, academic that he was, both of his ‘heads’ agreed that more ‘research’ was in order. * * * It had snowed the night before, so much so that most of the roads were closed. But that wasn’t the reason she was so down, Des reasoned. She normally liked the snow, and they had even gone on a couple of walks on a trail behind the science building that led into the woods on the hill. Even more puzzling was the half-eaten bowl of take-out pasta from the cafeteria, and the unopened candy bar left beside her books. It was a comfy clothes kind of day, as Aster was cuddled inside of some baggy black sweats and a matching hoodie, her hood pulled half over her head as she slumped, almost in full fetal position, in the library sofa. “What’s wrong?” he finally was bold enough to ask. Aster’s eyes didn’t move from the straight stare, even as she lowered her phone and let out a sigh and drew in another deep breath. “My mom is coming to town in a couple of weeks, and my sister too…” Des studied her for a moment as silence lingered following her apparent reluctance to continue. “You don’t seem too excited, everything not good with you and your family?” “Not exactly, no,” she seemed distant, spacey, but had sat up a little in her chair, reaching for her coffee cup. The reluctance continued. “Well, I don’t want to push you or make you uncomfortable, but if you want a third, neutral party to vent to about anything, I’m here for you,” Des said, turning back to his notes, opening the floor while also trying to make Aster comfortable to just be. “Thanks, Des,” Aster broke her trance to look directly at Des for a moment, flashing a soft smile with sad brows. She began fiddling with her pen while staring vaguely out the window. The two sat in silence for several minutes. Des continued typing out some notes but his mind couldn’t move away from Aster. He had never seen her like this, her aura—if he could call it that—was way off, and he was genuinely a bit worried for her. But he elected not to say anything, not to bother her and to just give her space. The crinkling of wrappers drew his gaze up as he saw Aster finally reach for a peanut butter cup. Their eyes met and she flashed him a quick smile. “I feel like I say it a lot lately but… thanks, Des, really,” she said after swallowing the gooey treat. “I really appreciate just being able to ‘be’ around you, if that makes sense? Like we can often get together like this and we can chat for hours on end… BUT… We also have this ability to just hang in silence, and it’s not awkward at all. Like our presence for each other is calming. Soothing.” Des pushed aside his laptop, looking Aster straight in the eyes and flashing her a small smile back. “Thanks,” he said, reaching out for the other peanut butter cup. “The feeling is mutual. And seriously, though, if you need to chat or vent…” Aster laughed a little, sighing deeply. “Yea. And still, really appreciate it.” He turned back to his laptop again but this time her eyes lingered on him for longer. “Hey, do you want to go grab another coffee?” * * * | Hey, I’m at the corner by the market on Southgate Des looked around nervously, then back to his watch, then side-to-side again, scanning. He was cutting it real, real close. Thank god for Aster, who had offered to give him a lift downtown for the interview after his roommate left him hanging and had to cancel at the last minute. Barely a moment after he hit send on the text, a familiar blue corolla hatchback came into view driving up the lane. Stopped at the light, Des hurriedly opened the passenger door and hopped in, throwing his laptop bag in the back seat beside what looked like a fresh Krispy Kreme box. “Hey! Thanks again sooooo so much for giving me a lift, you really bailed me out of a tough spot!” Des threw his seatbelt on and Aster demonstrated her lead foot as they began speeding off of campus proper. “No worries! Any excuse to get away from my family for even just a little bit,” she was munching on a glazed donut in one hand while dodging between lanes to get around traffic with the other. “How did it go last night?” Des asked, concerned. Aster had filled him in that night at the library with loose details about her family dynamics, which were complicated, to say the least. Mom was not particularly motherly or helpful, and dad was fairly absent, and her younger sister was an unappreciative and spoiled-princess type who was largely raised by Aster growing up. They also had an older brother who lived abroad in Singapore doing some kind of tech work. Aster and he were very close growing up but he had grown a bit tired and distant from the family as a whole. “Just lots of talking about random, usual stuff. We didn’t get into anything yet really,” she sighed, shoving the last of the glazed treat into her mouth and sucking her thumb dry of the leftover sugar. Aster had also told Des how her mom and dad were going through a rough time and there was some serious talk of a divorce. “I’m sure she’s going to try and weaponize me next, after hooking in Cassie. That’s what she always does…” “I’m so sorry Aster, it’s a no-win kind of situation,” Des tried to be comforting. “Whatever happens, you know I’m here to chat still.” That same night, Des had opened up to Aster a bit about his upbringing too. Mom and dad split when he was 12, and he ended up moving away with mom, visiting Dad for stints over the holidays and other occasions throughout high school. The two had ended up spending another long night chatting, this time bonding over childhood traumas and family dramas, having some similar personalities and behaviors around the household. “Thanks Des, mean it,” Aster said, eyes still glued to road as she kept up her speed-demon routine with her lead foot and DGAF attitude. “Enough about me though, tell me about this new job!?” Des laughed. “Well, this is an interview, I don’t have it yet! Though the guy I was talking to at the rec center the other day made it sound like I’m a leading candidate. It’s a job as a beat writer for the local minor league baseball team!” “Oh, that’s awesome! I used to go to Raven’s games when I was little!” Aster gushed. “Oh crazy, you know a lot about baseball?” Des perked up. Why was he surprised at this point, though. “Haha yea! I used to play softball too when I was younger, before my parents made me choose between volleyball and softball because they couldn’t pay and also take me to both…” Aster trailed off. “Well if all goes well and I get the gig, you’re going to have to come out to see a game this summer!” Des said, his arms and hands waving through the air in the car excitedly. “Yes! That would be amazing!” Aster agreed. The two got to talking about a few other childhood sports and other activities it turned out they also had in common for the rest of the drive… You were in theater too? No way! … High school Year Book Club, we were so cool haha! … Oh, that’s awesome you were so involved! I used to volunteer for this thing called Relay for Life, a cancer fundraiser… “Des, I’m serious, you have to take one! I’m not letting you out until you take one,” Aster had put on her very-serious face, jamming the open donut box into Des’ face as he scrambled to remove his seatbelt as they pulled over at his stop. “You have to save me from at least one more of these. They were supposed to last until I got back, but I’ll probably stress-eat half of them on the way…” He knew by this point she wasn’t joking. Begrudgingly, he grabbed one from her as he scrambled out of the vehicle. As he leaned in to say thanks and goodbye, he caught one last glimpse of her in her tight teal shirt and black puffy winter vest. She had a cute, matching teal beanie on as well. She still looked athletic, and far from outright chubby, but more and more over time he could definitely notice the softening around her edges and little pooch and love handles forming at her sides. He still didn’t know why he was finding it so attractive, but softer Aster was very appealing to him. Who was he kidding though. Aster was very appealing to him. Extremely smart, mix of nerdy and sporty just like he was, thoughtful and deep but witty and good with banter. They had similar experiences growing up and so many shared irks and likes. That physically she was stunningly beautiful in his books was just the cherry on top. She wished him good luck and smiled with her eyes as she looked deep into his before he pushed the door shut and she drove off. Des felt the extra pep in his step as he made his way towards the building, gnawing at the donut in a hurry with every step. That’s it, he had decided—if all went well today, he was going to finally ask her out. Maybe take her down to the pub on campus for drinks to celebrate, and then make his move there. He shoved down the rest of the donut and strode inside, ready to take on the world.

Wow. Just incredible how much you have gained and blossomed since your early days around here. Hope you're enjoying the changes in your body as much as we are, if not more!

The next 7 pages that I hadn't added here on Curvage yet. Sadly I haven't gotten around to updating it for a little bit now, hopefully soon!

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