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  1. Alright, I'm in a ranty mood so here goes. In no particular order and with no coherence... Israel's foundation has involvement with terrorists. The creation of Israel was a catastrophic foreign policy fuck-up and was a mistake, but that ship has sailed. Yes, I am anti-Zionist, but I recognise that you can't remove a population's right to self-determination. Israel exists, and should continue to exist. Can't change the past now. Hamas are arseholes. Israel's behaviour encourages the creation of more arseholes and thus the cycle continues. Israeli settlers are way out of line and need controlling. Equally, Bibi's cronies need to go. They're either just shit at what they do, or they're quietly endorsing the settler's behaviour. The settlers remind me of Russia's Little Green Men. If I had my way, I'd pop a UN DMZ along the pre-October border. If both sides insist on acting like children, then they should face consequences. It currently seems only Palestine's actions have consequences. This is fundamentally unfair and unhelpful. If Hamas is destroyed in this conflict, that's probably a good thing. However I doubt it will last. Israel's behaviour will breed the next generation of hateful terrorists. Somebody worse could well fill the power vacuum. This is a conflict of sheer dehumanising hatred and I don't think that will ever change. I wish I could bash their figurative heads together. It's such a stupid conflict. I don't think the creation of Israel has been worth the lives lost. I wonder what going back to the 1967 borders would do. Probably would be worse. Gone too far now. Should've been forced back to these borders decades ago.
  2. Learn to read , the title of this thread is candid section home because of whining users which includes you and makes you a hypocrite
  3. Chapter 11 1 month later Isadora opened her eyes, feeling lethargic this morning. She rose up from her bed, seeing Sariel wasn't in the room. The princess must have overslept again. She looked down, feeling her belly bunch up over her tight panties as she blushed. Isadora wasn't surprised to see her chubby ** belly. Nor her soft flanks of rolls. After all, she had learned from Sariel that she had put on 12 pounds this month. Thanks to all the eating and relaxing, she was now 176 pounds. The dwarfs really knew how to show a good time when it came to food. Combined with Nellies cooking, there were rarely days when she didn't have a full belly. The princess still couldn't believe she had put on 51 pounds since her slender days. She got to the edge of the bed, slowly rolling over. She saw her belly hang over her panties a bit, almost touching her thighs spreading on the mattress. She remembered when her belly didn't used to do that as her posture slouched a bit. "When did my belly start to hang like that? It's starting to look like mothers." Now that she thought about it, her whole body was starting to look like her mothers. She remembered when her double D cup breasts weren't so plump at B cup. Her butt used to be so perky and now it spread wide with her supple hips. The girl's belly was only a slight hill of softness, but now it was growing quite big. She pinched her pudgy belly and fondled it a bit. Then she began to feel a bit hot. Ever since Elara had rubbed her belly in the cavern, she wondered why it had felt so good. Now the girl had begun to feel conflicted about her belly. On one hand she thought it was an annoying nuisance that got in her way. It was even starting to hide her feet from view at certain angles. She was getting a fat girls downward view; with a ** belly she could see stick out farther than her boobs. On the other hand, it felt so nice to play with her tummy. She began to pant as she jiggled her belly more. This is something, she found herself doing more often recently, fascinated with her growing pooch. Then the princess began to see her hand was creeping up her thick thigh slowly towards her panties as she grimaced. Isadora snapped out of her lustful haze as she slapped her softer cheeks. "No, bad Isadora. Are you really getting horny over this? Being fat isn't good for a young princess like you. I shouldn't like this. You don't want to be like mother, right," Isadora sighed as her belly rumbled. "Oh, don't you start." Some how she felt those were partly empty words feeling conflicted all over again. She realized she was just proving the succubus right, from months ago. When she told the princess she liked being a fat pig. She decided it was best just to move on with her day blushing. She groaned a bit getting up, walking over to get dressed. Little did she realize; a wet spot had formed on her panties. Her belly hang, hiding it from view. Isadora looked in her hand mirror, brushing her hair to see a double chin forming as she sighed. The black-haired girl put on a nightgown for now. She walked out hearing the dwarfs working on the ship outside still. Then Isadora saw Elara sitting in the lounge, eating some candy. She had waited for the princess to wake up. "Hey, where is everyone?" "They went to the lake again. You want to join them?" Elara smiled. "Yeah, sure. They probably have food. Oh, yeah, check this out. I helped make this with Throm yesterday, "Isadora smiled holding a small bracelet. The bracelet had gems of all colors on it, looking quite lovely. It even had an oval shaped yellow gem, that looked like a potato. "Wow, you really made this for me. Thank you. You even put a little potato on it," Elara smiled putting it on her arm. "Yeah, the potato was my idea, since you like them so much. It also helps with boost magic a bit, so I thought you could use it. I thought it would look great on you to," Isadora grinned. "Thank you, I'll treasure this," Elara smiled as their bellies started rumbling. "We should probably go get lunch now." "Sounds good." Elara smiled looking at Isadora as she felt her heart flutter a bit. She never imagined; she would become such good friends with Adela's daughter. She also never thought this girl would make her so happy. *** Isadora smiled as she walked with Elara to the lake in her swimsuit. Isadora had chosen a purple bikini that showed off her wobbling ** belly as she took her steps. Not to mention her meaty butt was eating the back of her bottoms a bit. Looking back, she also saw back rolls proofing over her waistband. She looked next to herself to see Elara in her bikini. The short goblin that came up to her waist was wearing a yellow bikini that showed off her chubby short stack figure. She also noticed Elara had grown her white hair out into a bob cut now. Elara had grown around 9 pounds heavier over the month of relaxing in the dwarf city. This made the girl quite chubby now with her green ** belly peeking over her waistband a bit. Her pooch wasn't as large as Isadora's, but it was starting to compete with hers in size. Not to mention those cute green love handles on her flanks, giving her a wobbling green muffin top. The goblin's hips were getting very wide giving a sway to her walk. Her butt stuck out far behind her, like wobbling cannonballs now. Elara's plump legs were also rubbing into each other, but then again so were Isadora's thighs. Her breasts had also gone up to double C cups. Overall, the small goblin girl wasn't looking so small anymore vertically. The girls made it to the glowing lake with gems, next to Throm's house. The girls loved to hang out here lately. Isadora saw Nyrie jump into the water as she swam relaxing her wings. She would help the dwarfs at times, but today she wanted to relax. Which was becoming a trend for all the girls. Isadora saw some of the girls sitting by the lake, and to no surprise they were eating lunch. They were all in their bikini's eating at a table as Nyrie went to join them. Nellie was still inside with Daisy probably working on more food for sure. At the start of staying here for a month, the girls would swim and have fun. Lately though, they just sat by the water and ate. Not that Isadora and Elara were any better. They drooled from the smell alone as they walked over to the table as their bellies rumbled for food. The girls still went on missions, while Sariel and Yuki went to get money from the clubs. Not to mention the princesses were still practicing their magic. But for the most part, all the girls were very lazy this month, eating a lot of food. The time spent with the dwarfs had taken its toll on their midriffs as the pounds crept onto the lady's waistlines. All the bikini's they had gotten a month ago were already looking tight. Not to mention Isadora watched as one by one the girls had all outgrown their pants. Each of the girls had to get larger clothes. It was a good thing they had gotten a big reward for helping the dwarfs. The first to outgrow their pants was Nyrie thanks to her larger butt, gaining 10 more pounds over the month. She remembered seeing the green haired harpy bend over while fixing something for her pants to rip, blushing. Now Isadora saw the harpy's butt spreading on the seat big time. The girl was 152 pounds from her old 122-pound weight. Her hips were also starting to look wide and supple; it was no wonder she ripped her pants. The girl's pooch was a full-fledged starter belly now as it peeked over the edge of her bikini a bit, becoming more noticeable. She had even grown softer flanks, giving her a muffin top. Her thighs were the next biggest thing. They touched, looking plush and meaty above her bird like legs. Nyrie's wings and arms were looking softer too. But not as much as below, adding to her pear like shape. Her breasts had also increased a cup size to C cup now, filling out her bikini. Overall, the once slender harpy was now looking more like a plump turkey as she nimbled on her buns. "Hm, the dwarf's bread is so burp good. I've been eating it for a month and I'm not tired of it," Nyrie smiled. "Burp, yeah their meat's great too," Mira grinned. The next to outgrow their pants was Nellie. Then followed by Mira, too no one's surprise. The dragoness tried getting her pants on one day and the flabs just wouldn't reach anymore. She wore her bikini for a week because she felt more comfortable in them. Then the dragoness tried on her pants again to find they wouldn't close. That was due to how fast the dragon was growing. Sariel told Isadora the dragon had gained 13 pounds this month and she could tell by looking. The dragon's greed must have been really gaining power over that girl's stomach. Going from 140 pounds to 181 pounds was quite noticeable on the once rock-hard dragon. The dragoness was now looking chubbier than the other girls with her ** belly sticking out far over her brown bikini. Her belly was even starting to hang slightly. Not that her side rolls were any less flabby. The earth dragon was certainly gaining a small boulder on her midriff. She was currently eating some meat as she gnawed on it with her sharp teeth. Isadora also saw she wasn't the only one starting to get a double chin. She saw one on the dirty blonde appear when she looked down. The dragon girl's breasts had also gone up to double E cup's as they strained her bikini top a bit. Her once muscular arms are now flabby limbs, wimpy shells of their former glory. Isadora also saw her thighs were touching as she sat with her belly almost resting on her plumper legs. Her butt was also gaining some girth as her hips had widened quite a bit. Even her brown tail looked a tad thicker as well. "Buurrp," Mira burped as she let out some flames. "Opps, sorry," Sariel I need more meat. I'm starving." "Right away dragon," Sariel grinned swaying her hips in her black bikini. "Um, Mira no offense, but I think you should slow down on the food. You're looking a bit pudgy there," Yuki smirked poking Mira's belly making the dragon fart by accident. "Burp, like you can talk with this beer tank of yours," Mira blushed poking Yuki's beer belly. Yuki turned red as she looked down at her now ** beer belly, she had grown over the months. She took another swig of her bottle belching. She had been challenging dwarfs to drink offs recently for money and had won all of them. This didn't help her ** belly from growing bigger though. Yuki didn't outgrow her pants, because she always wore her underwear. She still outgrew her panties when she ripped the back of them though, while getting up to quick. Her butt and hips had been soaking in those calories it seemed. Yuki's breasts had gone up to double E cups as she had to get a new bra as well when it broke. Her thighs were also looking supple and meaty lately. She spread her ice heeled legs to make some room for her ** belly. The blue haired kyubi had gone from 135 pounds to 168 pounds over the months. The once slender sexy fox girl was now looking like a chunky spoiled pet. Isadora used to be the only chubby girl with a noticeable belly, but that was changing fast thanks to Sariel. Now almost everyone had chubby bellies, thanks to her set up in the cavern. "Burp, it's not that bad is it," Yuki grimaced poking her own belly with her ears going down in shame. "Yeah, it is you overfed fox. You need to cut down on the beer, you ** hussy," Nyrie sighed. "I don't tell you how to live your life. Besides your looking pretty plump there, turkey," Yuki stated. "At least I can fly unlike turkeys," Nyrie blushed. "For now. If you get too fat, you might not be able to lift your fat ass off the ground," Yuki smirked. "Well then, I need to make sure that doesn't happen. But let's face it, we've all gotten so fat and lazy over the month. Were supposed to be on a journey to stop Adela to save the region. We're not on vacation, and yet here we are relaxing and eating. Now were paying the price, growing soft bellies and getting chubby," Nyrie sighed pinching her side roll. "We had no choice since the ship needs burp materials," Mira stated. "That doesn't mean we have to pig out all the time. Especially you Mira. You're looking almost as soft as Isadora now. You don't have...the dragon's greed, do you?" Nyrie wondered as Isadora blushed comparing her sagging ** belly to the dragon's. "No, of course I don't. Me have the dragon's greed. Outrageous. I've just gotten a bit, buurp out of shape like the rest of you. Oh, thanks Sariel, hmm meat," Mira drooled as she stuffed the meat in her mouth ravenously. "If you say so," Nyrie sighed. "It's thanks to Nellies cooking your still gaining. It also might be my fault for bringing in more money," Sariel sighed. "No, it's not, Sariel. You're the best. It's our fault for letting ourselves go. The minute we have more money to buy food and we start blowing up. Gosh, were turning into those pudgy noble girls I hate," Yuki blushed. "Yeah, plus being in the dwarf city hasn't been the best for our waistlines either. Daisy is like a 2nd Nellie almost," Nyrie sighed. "Thanks girls," Sariel smiled, while grinning on the inside. "Yeah, being here is the reason were getting so soft. But I don't want to hurt Daisy's hospitality. When the ship is done tomorrow. Then we can start burrp trying to lose weight once we leave," Mira stated as she finished more meat. "I can get behind that. I need to lose this belly soon. The guys at the club are starting to notice it, when I dance," Yuki blushed. "Maybe you should do a belly dance for them instead," Nyrie giggled. "Shut up," Yuki pouted. "Hey girls, I have dessert." Everyone looked to see Nellie coming out in her apron carrying some pastries. Her double G cup boobs jiggled, along with her belly. The pink haired girl's paunch was looking fairly hefty, sticking out a few inches, but her boobs were still sticking out more. Then again, her pink udder also competed with her belly too, giving the girl a more spread-out figure. Nellie's wide hips swayed as she moved with her butt having a decent amount of meat to carry. Her thighs looked so full and plump, touching as she walked in her sandals. Not to mention her arms were getting flabby too. The cowgirl's double chin was also starting to get more noticeable with her cute face starting to soften. Clearly sampling her cooking and Daisy's had put 11 more pounds on the girl. Starting at 150 pounds, she was now 185. They also saw Daisy the round jiggling dwarf waddling next to her. She grunted, wiggling her hips a bit to get out the door. The dwarf really was as wide as the entrance. Then the cook started panting as she waddled over, just from walking. The girls had gained around 10 pounds staying here. Now they could see why Daisy's waist was so vast from her lifetime of living here. "Yay, burp more food. I'm going to miss these meals when we go," Mira grinned as she dug into the donuts. "Well, eat your fill for now then," Daisy beamed with her rosy plump cheeks. Isadora drooled more the minute she saw pastries as she dug in into the carrot cake. Elara smiled as she ate some creampuffs, loving the flavor. Yuki tried some cake as she washed it down with her beer as her belly began to bloat. Nyrie forgot all about her tightening waist as she dug into the donuts too. Nellie smiled with Daisy, watching everyone dig into the food, proud of their work. Nellie had grown fond of Daisy over the months and had learned some really nice recipes for the road. It didn't take long for the girls to all have bloated bellies, from eating lunch and dessert. Elara and Isadora got off their seats as they laid on the glass letting out belches. "Gosh, can you imagine that we were burp once princesses," Isadora smirked. "Yeah, having a bloated belly and belching isn't very princess like is it, burp" Elara grinned as she farted. The girls giggled at their poor manners. Then Elara began rubbing Isadora's belly to comfort her. Isadora smiled doing the same to Elara as the girls soothed each other's round bellies. Yuki got up as she laid on the ground rubbing her beer belly. Then she saw Nellie sit down next to her as she patted her lap. "You can rest here, if you want," Nellie smiled. "Um, sure," Yuki blushed as she moved her head against the cowgirl's soft thighs. Then she felt Nellie rub her belly and her head as the fox girl smiled in delight panting a bit with her tongue out. She could get belly rubs and head pats from Nellie all day long and be happy. "Thank you, that burp, feels nice Nellie. Hm, right there." "You're welcome my cute fox," Nellie giggled. Nyrie laid on the grass too as she drifted to sleep right away, digesting her food. Mira laid back as she rubbed her belly watching everyone else get belly rubs. "Hey Sariel, could you rub my belly to?" Mira asked blushing. "Sure, I'll do my best," Sariel smirked. The succubus rubbed the dragon's soft boulder as Mira let out some sighs of relief stretching her wings. Sariel felt the belly all over, never feeling a round pooch before. She had to admit, it did feel nice to touch. She looked back at the dragon girl to see she had fallen asleep, already snoring. Then she looked around to see everyone was now taking a nap, even Nellie after eating and cooking so much. "My cute piggies, taking a day nap," Sariel smirked. "Yeah, those girls are getting nice fine bellies on them. Everyone's growing more beautiful by the day," Daisy grinned. "I couldn't agree more," Sariel grinned, stretching her bat like wings, with a slight bloated belly peeking over her bikini as she nibbled on some scones. *** Later Isadora went back to the ship with Sariel. The princess got changed again with her clothes getting a bit tight on her now. She saw Sariel resting on her back, rubbing her own belly. Judging from her slightly stuffed belly she had indulged quite a bit. Isadora smirked, wondering when the succubus started eating like that around the girls. Nothing had changed on the purple haired girl's sexy figure, but that wouldn't be the case if she kept eating like this. "Heh, since when do you get bloated?" Isadora smirked. "Oh, I just ate a bit too much today is all. That dwarf girls cooking is legendary, and I just needed to sample it. Don't underestimate the cooking of a housewife," Sariel smiled as she rubbed her slightly bloated tummy. "Just be careful the girls don't start rubbing off on you," Isadora giggled. "Ha, as if I'd ever let myself go like those pigs. You'll never see me getting fat. A succubus needs to maintain her figure to seduce their prey. A meal once in a while won't be a problem for me." "If you say so," Isadora stated. "By the way, I just came up with another idea on how to make the girls grow," Sariel smirked. "What's that?" "Did you see how Nellie was rubbing Yuki's belly. There's some sexual tension I sense from those 2. I think getting them together might be beneficial," Sariel smiled. "Why though?" Isadora wondered. "Did you know couples tend to put on weight when there together. It's called relationship weight or love chub. The round dwarf wife and Mira's friends that are happily married are proof of this," Sariel smirked. "Are you saying you want to get those 2 together just so they put on the love pounds?" "Yes, indeed, but not only them. I could sway the dragon's heart as well in order to make her gain faster. I've already won over her stomach, and they say thats the ticket to a person's heart," Sariel smirked. "You're going to seduce the dragon," Isadora smirked. "Indeed, Mira's already comfortable with her family, imagine if she felt even more comfortable with me as her girlfriend. The dragon's greed would be unstoppable at that point," Sariel grinned. "Geez, look at you, playing cupid," Isadora smirked. "Yes, thats me. Lust is my specialty after all. Besides, I will admit, Mira is actually pretty cute. It will be fun pampering and spoiling her like a queen. A shame I have to kill her later, but it is, what it is," Sariel smirked. "Yeah, thats...too bad." "Then last but not least, there's you and Elara," Sariel smirked. "What do you mean?" Isadora blushed. "Don't play dumb princess, I see a spark between you two. Maybe you should get with the goblin princess and pretend to like her. Then she can grow fatter as well. Oh, it's so perfect," Sariel giggled. "I won't do that." "Huh." "I said I won't. I'm not going to fake a relationship with Elara just to make her fat. Her hearts been through enough betrayal, don't you think. You can play cupid, but leave her out of it," Isadora stated sternly. "Well then, what are you going to do, when we have to kill her family?" "I talked to my mother, remember. I'm trying to find a way around it, while keeping everyone alive. If they serve her, then they'll be spared," Isadora sighed. "Will see about that. But look at you, standing up to your mother. Not to mention me for this goblin and her family, Sariel grinned as Isadora gulped. "Fine, fair enough. I won't force you." "Thank you." Isadora said in relief. Then again, your feelings for her seem pretty real to me, Sariel thought smirking. *** A day later and the ship was ready. Throm was smiling as he stood with his wife. Mira shook his hand wearing her larger short shirt and pants for her chubby figure. "Thank you so much for fixing the ship up for underwater travel. Also, thanks for keeping us so well fed," Mira smirked patting her belly making it wobble slightly. "Sorry if my wife over did it with the food. She just loves to make sure everyone has a full belly," Throm smiled patting his own gut. "Not a problem." "And thanks for helping us with that monster down there. Enjoy your ship and your rewards. Hope to see you again soon," Throm smiled. "Actually, I can set up a mirror to come back if you want," Sariel suggested. "Sounds like a plan, well then goodbye for now," Mira smiled. "You as well, friend," Throm grinned. Soon the ship began drilling into the ground again as the girl's continued on their big journey. *** 3 weeks later Elara smiled as she saw Nyrie looking at the map with everyone surrounding her. "Hey Elara, guess what. We just reached the druid empire," Nyrie grinned. "Good, at last," Elara smiled. Thank you so much for reading. If you found this interesting, you can check me out on DeviantArt. Thank you. 🙂 chubbygirls12 User Profile | DeviantArt
  4. To be clear, there are laws in the UK around this. Filming/photographing a person performing a private act (sexual or not) in/from a public place would fall under voyeurism legislation and threatening/stalking/intimidating/causing distress to a person to obtain a photograph etc. would fall foul of the Protection from Harassment Act. Following someone in a shopping centre for example and taking pics/vids of them without consent can 100% fall foul of the law. Brendon Kavanagh, the train station grifter you’re referring to, was correct in that general public recording isn’t a crime in the UK. On the flip side, he’s not the best of examples to use, since having seen some of the unedited footage of that incident with the Chinese people in the station, he was being borderline racist with them and definitely an arsehole. He was basically asked a reasonable request to not include them in a recording and saw an opportunity to escalate the situation for views and attention (which he got). His actions also got the piano shut off from public use by the station operator because of the problems he caused.
  5. I have noticed it a bit in general, but the dude bros I meet in uni see me and think that I'm okay to confide in. They say dehumanizing things about large women at bars and even say violent things at the thought of being approached by them - they call them "fat bitches", animalistic words (not playfully, though I still side-eye at playful animalistic name-calling). It's really lame. They'll have a lot of issues when their looks fade eventually. It's funny, I met a dude who mentioned that he once was 300lbs (he's not tall so still looks fat, but lost like 90 lbs), and even though he's still currently fat, he STILL has so much vitriol for these poor ladies. It was so strange to witness him say that and then none of his friends (who also hate fatness) mention it, even though they were definitely thinking it. It's hypocritical and pointless. Very difficult being a fat person, but very easy to avoid bad apples, cuz you can bet your ass they'll let you know by the way they treat you.
  6. Nice to see a new generation of bigger Sky anchors arriving on the scene.
  7. Oh man, there used to be this huge thread, I swear, haha. Lately I've been on a massive Sleep Token kick, but I lean into more power/melodic in general. Children of Bodom's Hatebreeder album is always an easy go-to, and I like a lot of what I've heard from Kamelot, Rhapsody of Fire, Evoken, Duskmourn (a lot of atmospheric/funeral doom, now that I think about it) Pagan's Mind, Fractal Gates, Deafheaven's Sunbather album was a wholly transformative experience personally, Manowar, Within Temptation. I've also been grooving on this band, St. October, since their vocalist is a gal I used to know way back when (not really personally or anything, though) and it's been nice to see that she's doing real well for herself. Spotify has also lead me to learn I dig Falling in Reverse, Nothing More, Spiritbox, Bad Omens, etc but honestly I'll give almost anything a listen. I'd ideally like to have at least one band/album in each subgenre that I can really get down with.
  8. Has anyone noticed fatness has become completely normalized post-pandemic? The last few years have been the biggest change in attitudes regarding weight gain in my lifetime. Women talk about and show off their bodies in a way they just didn’t during 2010’s body positivity. Young girls do not want to enable “diet culture” and deny their own happiness. Weight gain is no longer something shameful that needs to be fought. Plus size clothing and mannequins really outnumber normal clothes sizing at stores like Target, which is definitely new. The biggest potential for change I think is the adoption of Universal Standard. It’s a clothing brand that advertises its size system to other labels as “the average American woman is a size 18, so why shouldn’t clothing sizes reflect that as Medium?”. It has been a successful online ad campaign and I have genuinely heard more than one girl make that point in my friend group. Something else I’ve noticed is that it is no longer culturally mocked for men to date fat women. I know multiple skinny guys who openly date fat girls and I think it’s not stigmatized for guys in general to do “locker room boys talk” about fat girls. I was recently in a trendy bar in a “skinnier” state and I noticed for the first time there were more fat girls there than skinny hipster girls. There were traditionally good looking guys openly flirting with fat girls in front of skinnier women. My friend whispered to me “I can’t believe guys like big girls now.” Where do you think this can go? I can’t imagine what else can be done. Maybe plane seats becoming bigger?
  9. Honestly, anyone down to chat in general, would love to get to know folk in the community 😄

  10. !!! Part 1 of 2!!!! Cheating on my diet. just a gym girl eating her heart out 🫣 my generous sponsor was spoiling me last night and I was determined to eat as much as I can for him. i started with flat empty belly coming from the gym and ended up sooo full. 🤭 some burps and talking, multiple angles, fast eating/drinking. im feeling the PRESSUre In this one. ends with some lotion on my bloated tummy haha 🤭🤭
    $6.50
  11. !!! Part 1 of 2!!!! Cheating on my diet. just a gym girl eating her heart out 🫣 my generous sponsor was spoiling me last night and I was determined to eat as much as I can for him. i started with flat empty belly coming from the gym and ended up sooo full. 🤭 some burps and talking, multiple angles, fast eating/drinking
    $6.50
  12. A reason why people can't retire at 65 anymore is because the best this country can do for presidential candidates is either an 81 or 77 year old. I'm not expecting some 30 year old fresh out of grad school for a candidate, but can we at least have a president that wasn't born before the Cold War began? People should be fighting for a better cost of living than a pay increase. It's already to the point where people are spending $20 just to scarf down a Big Mac and acting like $25 an hour is still not enough to live off of despite their grandparents easily being able to buy a house with half of that pay rate. Anyone with the last name Kennedy should stay far away from politics. You'd think after the last two generations, they'd take the hint. The United States is that one friend who rarely pays their bills on time, can barely afford rent, yet spends half their paycheck on their other so called "friends" who should learn to fight their own battles and pay for their own expenses. And to quit using their friend as backup when sh*t hits the fan. If I see "would you like to donate to _____'s campaign" one more time when trying to fill out a form, I'm voting for Afroman out of spite. Nothing's worse than election day where old people end up hounding you over "don't forget to vote for ____" like stfu, that's why I've absentee vote the moment I was able to.
  13. Coolb

    Selena Gomez

    I know most here love weight gain in general but I personally think this weight suits her more than any weight, and not in a FA point of view. I really think she looks her best as of right now. Seems like it's the weight she's supposed to be. I don't know if it makes sense. What do you think?
  14. Since “unpopular opinions” is my favorite chit-chat thread, I’m laying down another one that seems overdue for Curvage… Here goes…. 1. Just because your girlfriend is fat doesn’t mean she’s a BBW. 2. Just because I’m into BBWs does not automatically mean I’m into fat chicks. (Wait… what?) On the surface this doesn’t make a lot of sense, but I promise -- I’m not a lunatic… so let me un-pack this idea with an example of conditional logic. We might say that a circle is a shape, but a shape isn’t necessarily a circle …because obviously, a random shape could also be a triangle, a square, an octagon or whatever. The same is true in our context. A BBW is a fat woman, but a fat woman isn’t necessarily a BBW. Certainly everyone on this forum knows that “BBW” is an acronym for “Big Beautiful Woman”. And yet, for some reason the term gets thrown around incorrectly far too often. Working this out of order, I‘ll start with last letter… “W” for “Woman”…. this is a fairly obvious definition. With an exception to the LGBT crowd, people generally agree with this one. The first “B” stands for “Big”. Again, this is important. Even though it’s not clearly defined, it’s not typically contested. If a woman is very pretty, but wears a size 4 dress, nobody is going to refer to her as a BBW. I know there are some differing opinions on the mid sizes (bigger than chubby but smaller than obese) but I don’t really see this as super important. (More on this in a minute…) Then there’s the other “B”. Beautiful. God all-mighty do people struggle with this one. Take for example a hypothetical subject who is a woman, and obviously fat… but the good lord cheated her in the looks department. Her face looks like it caught on fire and someone put it out with a shovel. Does “beautiful” really apply? Do we call her beautiful just save and protect her feelings? …even if it obviously isn’t true? If you care about being polite and don’t want to be hurtful, this can be a tough one for sure. Now, let’s complicate this even more with another hypothetical: This woman has the face of an angel and the body of goddess. She’s a plus-sized Aphrodite. She COULD be the most beautiful woman on the planet… BUT her confidence is in the toilet. She HATES the fact that she’s fat, and is constantly down on herself for her long string of failed diets. She doesn’t take care in her appearance because she is so convinced that fatness is synonymous with ugliness. She doesn’t see the point. She is meek and quiet in her introverted demeanor. She won’t go to the beach with you unless you drag her there, and tries to hide in a black one piece swim suit, with an over-wrap. She will not talk about her fatness to turn you on, she won’t have sex with the lights on, she’ll get super self-conscious if you touch her belly. She doesn’t like eating in public, won’t let you feed her for foreplay. She thinks being called “fat” is an insult and will start to cry if you point it out to her. So is this woman “Beautiful”?? Of course not!!! Confidence is an incredibly important factor when considering beauty. In this particular case, the problem isn’t with her body, but the gray matter between her ears. Trust me… I’ve dated this girl before. You think, maybe, if you are kind and considerate and tender and honest… you might convince her that fatness is a good thing, and she will open up to become something really special. Sorry Jack, not gonna happen. You’re wasting your time with this chick. She’s never going to enjoy being fat and your persuasion isn’t enough. She is going to be the most mentally and emotionally draining woman in your life. She's never going to understand your desires, she's never going to see her own value and the sex will be perpetually awful. I know what you're thinking... But hey ChaminglyEvil.... What If! What if she magically found her confidence. Began dressing to impress, became sexually playful, wore a string bikini, jiggled her fat to turn you on, became a dream come true? Are you telling me that you are still aggravated by fat girls? Yes. But, at this point, she has blossomed. She has leveled-up; she's not JUST a fat girl anymore... She's officially a BBW. I make this distinction because obesity is quite common in the United States…. Certainly we have no shortage of fat girls. But BBWs are certainly more rare…. And very much worth pursuing. Now, let's circle back to the girl wearing the size 14. She's 5' 5" tall and 190 pounds with a BMI over 31. General society would say she's too big to be considered "normal". Curvage patrons might say shes too small to be considered fat. Is she a BBW? Well, if she recently lost 10 pounds and is currently exercising / dieting super hard to lose more weight, then no. She's not a BBW. If she recently gained 10 pounds and is sexually excited about her fuller body... and dresses to show it off... then yes, she's absolutely a BBW. I posit that the distinction has less to do with the actual dress size or number on the scale than it does with the mental attitude of the woman. What say my Curvage friends??
  15. Chapter 10 Isadora gulped standing behind the ladies of the crew. Going down the elevator shaft, she was quite nervous. Then she felt her hand being held by Elara, helping to calm down the princess. She wondered how the little green girl was so brave. Soon the elevator stopped with dust going everywhere as Isadora waved the smoke away. They began walking a short distance, till they came to fallen rocks closing the cavern off. "This is the entrance. Give me a signal when you want out, ok. I'll be waiting for you," Throm explained. "Sounds good," Mira nodded. Mira touched the stones as a tunnel was created through the rocks. The girls walked through as Elara and Isadora awed at the dragon's digging power. Soon Mira closed the tunnel behind her when they got to the other side. Then everything got dark. "Turn on the lights!" Isadora screamed as Nellie made a light with magic. "Thats better," Isadora sighed. "Try to keep yourself together," Yuki smirked. All the girls continued walking down the cavern as Isadora was shaking. "Mira, are you sure this is a good idea?" Isadora sighed. "Don't worry, were all together. Whatever's down here, doesn't stand a chance," Mira smirked. "If we die. I'm blaming you," Nyrie sighed shaking with the princess. Soon the cavern opened up as Nellie shot a light to the ceiling. They were in a huge underground room with many materials on the walls. On the other side of the room were more tunnels. "I know your down here. Come out asshole!" Mira shouted. "Shh. Quiet. Now it knows were here," Isadora sighed. "I want it to know where here," Mira grinned. "We're going to die," Nyrie whined. But there was no noise, no presence. That made everything even more unsettling. "Seems it's a bit shy. What's wrong, you scared of 7 cute girls." "Mira, stop taunting it," Nyrie gulped. "Looks like we'll have to go hunting. But there are so many tunnels to explore. Maybe we should split up. So, the thing down here will want to come out and pick us off. Yeah, let's do it. That will lure him out," Mira grinned. "I don't like this plan," Isadora sighed. "Ok, here are the teams," Mira stated. "She's not listening," Isadora whined. "The only thing is, if we find this creature, then how will the others know?" Nellie asked. "We can put on magic bracelets. You can make them connected with magic. If one of us spots the creature, we can infuse magic into the bracelets making all of them turn red, to tell the others. Then we can meet back here," Elara stated. "Wow, thats actually a good plan, Elara. I didn't know you were so smart," Mira smiled rubbing Elara's head. "Well, before I turned into a goblin, I was a general for the elf army. I came up with plans all the time for battles. I'm not that smart though, stop," Elara blushed. "Give yourself more credit, Elara," Mira smiled making the goblin smile. "So here are the teams. Sariel, you go with Nellie. I'll go with Nyrie. Yuki, go with the princesses. Protect them well," Mira stated. "I will." "Ok, lets hunt this thing down," Mira smirked. *** Soon Elara and Isadora were alone with Yuki in the dark. The only thing helping them see was a glowing light made by Isadora. Isadora was scared out of her mind looking into the darkness ahead. She was just waiting for something to pop out to scare her. "I'm scared Elara," Isadora shivered holding onto the little goblins arm. "Get a grip piggy. You need Elara to protect you. How sad," Yuki giggled. "Just stay close to Yuki and me. You'll be ok. It might go after Mira since she taunted it so much," Elara smirked. Then Isadora heard a growling sound as she whimpered. "What was that?" Isadora frowned. "I think it's your belly," Elara smirked. "Maybe we should take a break," Yuki stated. "Sounds like a plan," Isadora smiled as she heard Elara's belly gurgling as well. "Mine's rumbling too. Maybe our bellies are talking to each other," Elara laughed. "I wonder what they're saying," Isadora blushed, remembering her conversation with it earlier today. *** Sariel smiled as she walked with Nellie lighting the way holding her arm. "Please protect me. I really don't like the dark. I hope this creature isn't too scary." Nellie frowned. "You'll be fine. Nothings scarier than me," Sariel smirked. "I hope you're right." *** Isadora burped, while eating the candy they had brought along. Elara was also eating too. She smirked, seeing the princess gobble down the sweets. Yuki was in the corner drinking a bottle of beer, belching. "Hey easy, you don't want to get too full when that monster comes. You'll have trouble running," Elara giggled. "Yeah, sorry. It's my nerves. I stress eat when I'm nervous. I'm just so scared," Isadora sighed. "I am too," Elara stated, showing her shaking arm. "You are. Then why did you want to come down here so badly?" "Well, it's because I'm tired of being weak. I want to be useful. To challenge myself and be brave. Not just to I have the courage to face my sister, but to become queen one day," Elara sighed. "So, you've made up your mind about your sister." "I just want to remove her from power. Mother wanted me to be queen so I will fulfill her last wish to me. To be queen I need to be strong and have the courage to face anything. But I'm still scared. I'm not over what happened that night. I still have nightmares about it. It feels like I'm under so much pressure, but I have to stay strong. For mother and the kingdom," Elara sighed. "So, you're putting on a brave face." "I just don't want to be a burden anymore. I want to be strong again," Elara sighed. Isadora could relate to her feelings. "I know what it's like to feel like a burden. But it's ok for you to lean on others, every once in a while. I learned that, thanks to spending time with the crew. Me and the others are here for you. You don't have to do this alone. You're still going through a lot, and I understand," Isadora smiled. "Thats true, but I'm still tired of being weak," Elara sighed. "Your stronger than you know. I don't know much about being queen, but I'll give you this. You keep going despite everything being hard for you lately. I think your amazing for that. Just don't overdo it, ok," Isadora smiled. "Thank you. Maybe I am pushing myself too hard. I'm sure everything will work out once I get my old body back one day. Plus, our training is going well," Elara stated. "Exactly, you're doing great. I can't wait to try out our teamwork. Speaking of over doing it. I need to stop eating these chocolates," Isadora blushed seeing she had emptied half the bag already. "Yeah, you really overdo it lately, don't you," Elara smirked. "Yeah, it's hard for me to stop. I just want to keep eating until I'm full. Hey, remember when the dwarfs said being fat was beautiful. Well, I haven't felt pretty even once since I grew this pudgy. As a princess, I feel like my beautiful looks are going down the drain," Isadora sighed patting her ** belly. "You are still pretty Isadora. At least you're not green, short and plump like me. I look like a juicy pear," Elara sighed taking a handful of her big jiggly butt. "Yeah, I should be thankful, sorry. But your still pretty too, Elara." "Thanks," Elara blushed. "But seriously, how can the dwarfs think this is sexy. What's so hot about this belly," Isadora said patting her ** pooch as it wobbled. "I think it's cute on you," Elara giggled. "You don't have to say that to, burp make me feel better. Oh, I'm starting to feel burp sick from all that sugar." "Let me help you," Elara blushed. The goblin girl put her hand on Isadora's belly as she rubbed it smiling. Isadora blushed feeling the goblin's hand on the bottom curve of her tummy. "Sorry, do you mind. I just want to make you feel better," Elara smirked. "Um, sure. I don't mind," Isadora blushed. "Let's give your belly some room to breathe." Elara undid the princess's blouse buttons, revealing her pudgy pooch and soft flanks. Isadora felt relief as her buttons were undone. Her belly hung over her pants a bit sitting down. The goblin sat in front of her as she placed both hands on Isadora's bare ** belly. Isadora felt tingly the moment Elara put her hands on the princess's pampered overfed tummy. She felt Elara's thumb go into her navel, pinching her chub as the black-haired girl panted. Elara got lost, rubbing Isadora's belly. She moved her green hand across her tummy as it felt so plush. Like a pillow, but better. She couldn't stop herself as she wondered what was going on with her. Why did she feel tingly and why was rubbing this soft pudge so addicting? It fascinated her, putting the girl in a trance. She saw Isadora was panting and she felt herself doing the same. Then the princess let out a burp as they both giggled. "Feel better?" Elara wondered. "Yeah, it, burp feels...good," Isadora panted. "Do you want to rub mine as well, burp. I ate too much while, burrp we were talking," Elara panted looking at all the candy wrappers around her. "Sure, I'll give it a go," Isadora blushed. Then Elara gasped feeling the princess's hands on her love handles and belly. It felt nice to rub a belly, but to have your own belly rubbed was even better to her. She moaned a bit as Isadora hands played with her pudge. It felt so nice. Elara kept fondling Isadora's pooch while the princess did the same to the goblin's green tummy. The girls blushed as they rubbed each other's bellies, panting softly. "This feels nice," Elara blushed. "Yeah, it does, keep going," Isadora panted letting out a fart. "What are you 2 doing?" The girls looked up to see Yuki staring at them puzzled as they separated blushing. Yuki finished her drink patting her own beer belly, belching. "Sorry, we were just giving each other belly rubs. We were having some belly aches is all," Isadora sighed. "Yeah," Elara blushed. "Whatever burp weirdos," Yuki sighed. Yuki looked at her own beer belly bulging over her panties blushing as she pinched it. Then she compared the size of her starter roll to Isadora's ** belly blushing. I need to watch how much I drink. Don't want to end up as big as that pig, Yuki thought sighing as her ears went down in shame. Then the fox picked up on someone's scent as her ears perked up. "Wait a minute, I sense someone coming?" Yuki stated as the girls stood up alert. *** Nyrie lit the way with her magic with Mira next to her. They kept walking down the path till they came to a dead end. They noticed some drawings on the wall. It was a heart, followed by a picture of a little girl holding the hand of an older woman. "So, our creature can draw, interesting. Can you make out what this means?" Mira asked. "Not really, seems like a harmless drawing to me," Nyrie stated. "This next one isn't so harmless." On the wall, the word killer was written over and over again. This was also mixed with claw marks as well. "That doesn't look good. What's that terrible stench? Do you smell that?" Nyrie sighed. "Oh my, I think...I found Adela's men," Mira gasped. The green haired pig tailed harpy looked over Mira's shoulder as she gasped too. The girls saw dead bodies on the ground with blood everywhere. "Whatever's down here, isn't friendly it seems," Mira sighed. *** Yuki saw a figure approach from the dark as Elara shined her light on what it was. Then sighed in relief seeing it was Nellie. "Oh, thank god it's you Nellie," Isadora sighed. "Yep. Sorry I startled you," Nellie beamed. "Nellie, where's Sariel?" "We got separated, when a cave in happened. I was so scared," Nellie sighed, walking over. "Stop! Don't come any closer," Yuki stated. "Hey, why are you saying that to Nellie?" Elara wondered. "Yeah, what's the problem?" Nellie sighed. "This girl isn't Nellie. I'm a kitsune, and I have a sensitive nose. You don't smell like Nellie at all. Infact, you smell like rotting flesh. Who are you!" Yuki shouted. Suddenly Nellie grinned as she turned away from them. Then her head rolled back till her neck broke looking at the girl's upside down as they yelped in fear. Her mouth opened into 4 sections as she began laughing with blood dripping from her sharper teeth. Soon the pale skin of the cowgirl's skin began to turn grey with fur. Then it's hands and feet grew claws that looked like spears. Her mouth formed into a dog like snout as it snarled at them with red eyes. "I am... a murderer," it smiled in a nasally voice, giving off a bloodcurdling growl. "Oh shit, RUN!" Yuki yelled as the girls began to sprint away. The creature began pursuing them as it ran on all fours snarling. "Yuki, huh, what is that thing?" Elara panted running as fast as her little plump legs could carry her. "It's a Skinwalker! I didn't expect one to be down here. I just put magic into the bracelet to alert the others. Let's run back now!" Yuki stated. "Wait for me, huh." The kitsune saw Isadora was already lagging behind, panting. She saw the black-haired girl run with her meaty legs. Her ** belly jiggled with her blouse still undone with every step she ran along with her wobbling D cup breasts. Clearly that weight was slowing her down. "I'm huh, getting tired. When did I, huh, get so out of huh shape," Isadora panted as she ran slower by the minute. "Don't tell me your tired already. Can't you move faster, you pig!" Yuki yelled. "I'm trying, huh. My legs and chest are on, huh fire. This is your fault, huh, for feeding me too much, huh at the table," Isadora gasped. "It's ok. Isadora. I feel, huh your pain," Elara panted. The goblin was running slower as well. Her green belly jiggled with her C cup boobs and wobbling butt. "Not you too Elara. Dam it, I just had to be stuck with the fatties," Yuki growled as she saw the monster catching up to Isadora. Yuki went between them fast as she summoned a blue sword in her hands. She sliced into the monster's neck, but she saw the blade not go through his skin. The beast snarled as it went to bite her. Then she summoned another sword that slammed into his mouth. He smirked, nibbling on her blade. Yuki growled with her sharp teeth as she kicked him back with force with her long soft heeled leg. Then she twirled her swords as if she was dancing. "Snow sword dance, glacier," Yuki stated swinging her 2 swords as a huge thick wall of ice was made in the cavern. The creature began banging on the ice as he roared. "That should buy us some time, move," Yuki stated holding Elara's hand. Soon they were on the move again. Yuki sighed as the princesses weren't moving any faster with their plump legs failing them. She saw the monster behind them break through the ice already running at full speed as the girls panted. They were both sweating, looking ready to pass out. "Dam it all. You girls better thank me for this later," Yuki shouted. The kitsune picked up both girls as she ran like lightning. Now it was Yuki's turn to pant. Not only was her starter belly giving her slight trouble, but the girls were a bit hefty to say the least. "Gosh, you girls weight a ton, you need to lay off the food," Yuki panted. "Sorry," Elara blushed. "Maybe your just out of shape," Isadora pouted. "I am not huh out of shape. Shut up fatty," Yuki gasped as she saw the opening up ahead. Yuki came out into the open with the Skinwalker not far behind. Then a rock was thrown past Yuki, slamming into the monster. The rock sent him down tumbling as he did a flip to get back up, snarling. Yuki gasped as she was relieved to see Mira and the crew. "Huh, thank goddess. I can drop the heavy luggage," Yuki panted. She put the pudgy princess's down as they blushed landing on their feet. "Good work protecting them, Yuki. So, what do we have here?" Mira wondered. "A Skinwalker. It, huh disguised itself as Nellie and tried to trick us," Yuki gasped catching her breath. It snarled standing a good distance from the girls. "What's a Skinwalker?" Isadora wondered. "They're shape shifting monsters that were once human, giving up their soul for power," Sariel grinned. "I see. They're dangerous, but against the 7 of us, were fine," Mira declared. The monster roared as it began to grow in size slowly. The creature grew bat like wings as it grew taller and bigger as its bones cracked. Soon the Skinwalker was the size of a dragon as it roared. "Geez, now it's a vampire bat," Nyrie sighed. "What the hell's going on? I've never seen a Skinwalker do this," Mira sighed. The monster looked at Mira and grew angry. "KILL, DRAGON, MUST KILL!" the monster shouted as it charged at Mira. "Scatter!" Mira shouted as everyone ran out of the way. Mira transformed into her dragon form as she roared grabbing the beast's arms. Mira then fired her dragon's breath at close range at the creature's face. But when the smoke cleared, the Skinwalker was unscathed. Suddenly Mira backed up as red blades came out of the monster's arms almost stabbing her. She noticed it was made of crystalized blood. She created a spear of stone as she clashed with the arm blade. Then Mira stabbed the monster in the chest, but the stone spear broke on the impact of his skin. The monster then grabbed Mira by the arm. The Skinwalker threw the dragon across the room as she went crashing into the wall. Then the creature shot red blood bullets out of its mouth. Mira smirked as Sariel blocked the bullets with a huge skeleton rib cage. Then bones came up from the ground wrapping around the Skinwalker's legs. It was held in place for a bit as it roared. "You ok there, dragon," Sariel smirked. "Been better," Mira stated. "Wow, that's one strong monster. I've never seen you tossed like that," Nyrie sighed. "Why is it after you, Mira?" Nellie wondered. "I don't know. But I've never seen a Skinwalker this powerful. It's got steel skin and crazy strength. I think it could take on dragons with ease, just from my judgement. We'll have to defeat it together. Get into formation. I'll be the diversion, since it's after me. I need time to create a sword strong enough to kill it. Sariel and Nellie, you'll be my defense. Yuki and Nyrie, you'll be my offense. Elara and Isadora, you're my support? Can you trap that thing for just a few seconds?" Mira asked. "I've got it. I wouldn't have come down here without being able to help," Elara stated. "Sounds good, let's do it," Mira grinned as the monster broke free of the bones charging at them. Nyrie grinned as she brought out her gun with magic. She fired a magic rocket powered by wind at the monster. On impact it exploded in its face. The monster kept going, seeming to be unfazed. Nyrie smirked firing more rockets. Some connected with the beast exploding while some the monster shot blood bullets at. Nyrie smirked as she brought out another gun and fired 2 at once. This blew the monster back a bit as he bled slightly. "That feel good, you jerk," Nyrie grinned. The monster roared as it swung its blood blade at the harpy. Yuki came in blocking the blade. Then another sword appeared in her hand pushing him back. 10 more blue swords appeared above her. Her tails formed ice hands as they grabbed the snow blades. Her mouth grabbed the last one as she held 12 blades at once. "Snow sword dance, piercing blizzard." Yuki jumped up as she twirled like a tornado drill cutting the monster's arm. The creature snarled in pain as its arm froze over with ice making a huge cut. "Feel that asshole," Yuki smirked. "Alright, way to go Yuki," Nyrie cheered. The monster roared as it smashed into the ground. The ice broke as spears of blood popped up from the earth from its wound. Yuki and Nyrie evaded as Nellie put up a shield blocking the spears. Then the Skinwalker turned its attention to Sariel. "DRAGON!" "I'm not a dragon, shit," Sariel sighed feeling her horns and wings. The monster started firing blood bullets as Sariel flew fast, dodging the enemy fire. She glided against the wall with the bullets following her destroying everything on the wall. As the creature was firing, Yuki jumped high as she twirled her blades into the monster's neck as it bled out. The monster roared again as it swung its arm at the swordswomen. She blocked it with all her blades getting pushed back. Sariel came in with her red scythe as she clashed with the Skinwalker's arm blade as he stepped forward a bit. "Now Isadora! Put your magic into me!" Elara shouted. All of a sudden, the creatures foot sunk into the ground. The monster fell off balance as Mira looked to see Elara had activated her trap. The monster's leg was sinking knee down, into a huge mud pit as it snarled. Mira saw Isadora channeling her magic into Elara trying to contain it in her friend. This gave Elara the power boost she needed to perform the spell. The enhancement magic was far from perfect, but it was enough. She was impressed they had covered for each other's weaknesses like this. Elara smiled with Isadora smirking as the trap had worked. "Way to go girls," Mira smiled as she drew a huge glowing ember like sword from the earth. The monster was about to get out as Sariel's skeletons held the beast in place. Then magical chains came up from the ground as well holding onto him, thanks to Nellie. Then the mud pit froze over with Yuki's ice blades. Now the creature was now stuck for sure. The dragon held a sword that looked like hardened lava as she flew in fast. My magma blade should do it, Mira thought smirking. The dragon roared, swiping her sword clean down the monster's body. Flames burst from the sword as fire and lava erupted from her blade, creating a shock wave. After the explosion of flames and lava, the smoke began to clear. The Skinwalkers body had been cut clean in half down the middle with a burnt singe. The Skinwalker bled as it began to fall in 2 separate directions. Mira transformed back into her human form as the huge creature fell to the ground. She walked up to half of the creature looking into its eyes. They were crying when looking at her. "Sister. I'm sorry...I'm a murderer. Please forgive me," it said as it stopped breathing. The other girls cheered having brought down the creature at last. "Great job girls, we did it," Mira beamed. "We sure did. It's been a while since we all worked together. Let's hear it for the princess's too," Nyrie smiled. "It was nothing, just simple trap magic," Elara blushed. "I'm just happy our training pulled off. You can thank Elara though. It was her idea for me to give her a boost in training," Isadora smiled. "That trap magic helped quite a bit. Good work you too," Mira smiled. "Guess, you weren't too bad today," Yuki blushed. "You girls were great, but everyone did amazing," Nellie smiled. "Alright, lets head back and tell Throm what happened," Mira grinned. All the girls began walking back to the entrance, but Mira kept looking at the Skinwalker. She touched its head lost in thought. Then she gasped. "No, it...can't be. Could you be, from that place?" Mira sighed. "Mira, is everything ok?" Sariel wondered. "Yeah, I'm good, let's...go," Mira stated. *** Later on, Throm came down happy to see the monster was killed, but not all was well. During the attack, most of the gems had been destroyed on the walls. "Well, thats unfortunate," Throm sighed picking up some crumbled materials. "Sorry, we were too lost in the fight to notice. Can you still work with this?" Mira wondered. "Yes, I can. Not all the gems were destroyed. The ones that were destroyed can be forged together again and put on your ship. It will just take around a month. Sorry," Throm stated. "It's fine. It's better than 2 months. Thank you," Mira smiled. Then Sariel grinned remembering when she dodged that monster's bullets, leading it over to destroy some of the gems. She knew this could delay them at least a bit longer. Now the girls will have to sit around and remain here for a month. Should be perfect for their waistlines, Sariel thought smirking.
  16. Edge of bed is always good. Turn to side, one leg under him, one over his shoulder, while he's kneeling on bed works well enough once you get a feel for it. In general, I'd recommend working out juuust a bit though even if your gaining. Cardio is super important in sex and strong leg muscles afford you a lot of opportunities. Also if you decide to go down the feedee rabbit hole, strong lower body helps retain mobility.
  17. Yeah, nurses had worked with DALL-E3 I think cause its generally ok with generating larger women if they're in more covered up types of clothing- so putting "scrubs" in the prompt gives you some more leeway I think, same idea as why it works ok with "sweaters". Once you start putting in any kind of clothing type where a larger body might mean more exposed skin, the censors go into overdrive and block most of what its trying to generate. At least that's what I think is happening. But yes, scrubs can kind of be low key great- that kind of normally looser clothing getting filled up and struggling to contain a growing body. Good stuff. Here are some really old ones, from maybe October last year? Then some before/after kind of images...
  18. No se por qué, pero me alegra tanto que comas rico 😋:). Se ve increíble ese ramen. Disfruta mucho :)) ve una buena película. Te recomiendo, y a todos los que lean, Napoleón con Joaquín phoenix. Buena peli, medio sarcástica pero buena en general.
  19. After her newly-crowned chef boyfriend has cooked a breakfast meal of pancakes, spinach and ricotta with bacon, Matilda makes her second deliberate effort in months to be punctual for practice. Close, but no cigar. She turns up a few minutes overtime, stuck in a limbo between not-as-late-as-usual, but not quite on time either. Elisha doesn’t seem to like this one little bit, throwing languid, resentful stares at her while the girls change into their gear, then jog outside, up onto the training pitch and into the chilly, dew-laden air. None of the girls want to say more than a single word to her during the session. It’s not as if they’re trying to avoid her – they just believe they have to act with caution around her, the way you would an injured stray dog that needs to be left alone and must be felt sorry for. It probably has something to do with the way she’s feeling out of breath during warm ups before most of the girls have even jogged the morning chill from their limbs. Margery strolls around like a vulture-necked sentry among them with her whistle in hand, using her voice and hands to bark directional instructions as they rehearse set plays and practice cut-back sprints. She never looks at Matilda. Not once. If Margery has to say anything to her at all, she speaks to the air around Matilda, eyes averted, never addressing her directly – and all while, Elisha somehow manages to worm her way into the centre of the pitch, sticking her foot into all the action as she struts around with her captain’s armband around her upper arm, fastened with obsessive precision as if to make her title as clear as possible. The real trouble comes after training in the change rooms. Kelsey, who is sitting on the bench beside her locker, huffs with lips pressed shut and drops her towel in her lap. She glances across at Talina, her defensive partner on the left wing, with an expression that suggests there are words trying to escape her mouth. Talina clocks onto her teammate’s searching gaze and squints at her, one brow raised inquisitively. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Kelsey licks her lips and then leans in confidentially. ‘I know we aren’t meant to transition until a counter-attack,’ she says under her breath, ‘but I can’t hold onto the ball forever. It doesn’t feel right. How do I move it into their third when there’s nobody to pass to when I’m getting pressured?’ Matilda overhears the two of them. ‘You could just long-ball it across to Stacey,’ she suggests, finding it a bit annoying to lean over her knees and slip her shoe off her heel, with the way her belly keeps wanting to remind her it’s there all the time, now. The two girls turn to her, then swap a strange glance with each other. But they return their eyes to Matilda, nonetheless, and wait. They’re listening. ‘Stacey should be mirroring your runs, right?’ Matilda reasons, leaning to one side and placing her shoe on the ground. She feels a fold develop under her ribcage as she does so. ‘Just like I was before Margery moved me to the backline. So if you’re waiting for us to move up the field, then just lob it straight over their heads. Straight to Stacey. Switch the play. She can do it. She’s a good controller of the ball. Not really that fast, but she can make the ball stick to her, you know? They won’t expect it. They’ll have to turn and chase her instead – so, if you let her dribble it up a bit, then get her to lob it over back to you again, it wastes the opponent’s time. By then some of us should have enough time to be making runs in behind for you to pass through to.’ Talina bites her lower lip, a sequence of thought making her eyes narrow. ‘Sounds risky. Won’t that allow the opposition to regroup as well?’ ‘Yeah. Our counter attack would die– but not all of it. That’s why our back line stays back; to get ready for a turn-over, if that happens. Only our midfield players are meant to make those forward runs anyway.’ ‘Not according to Margery.’ ‘Who cares! Evangeline should already be there ahead of you. Beth runs ahead of me, cuts inside towards you. Elisha runs up too. The rest of us stay back and guard the turn-over, or otherwise just sit as an anchor if nothing opens up and you need to recycle the ball. But in attacking transition, if you need to, just keep switching play to the other side of the field, between you and Stacey. Make the opposition shift side to side. It might annoy them. Then, if you get far up enough, our fullbacks can run up, and overlap, or underlap.’ ‘That’s sounding an awful lot like an attacking style of football,’ Kelsey says, laughing. ‘Again– who cares what Margery wants anymore? Talina; you and April can run up from your fullback positions and overlap. Grace and Mandy stay all the way back ready to stop a turn-over if it happens while I sweep in front of them like a traditional defensive mid. You can boot it back to me if there’s an emergency– I should be more or less isolated, and I should have a bit of space to work with. I’ll redistribute it to you from the back and you can try pushing forward again.’ Kelsey’s eyes glitter. Talina exchanges a glance with her, then looks away to examine the wall as she sucks her lips between her teeth. She’s visibly turning the ideas over in her mind. Then she tilts her head a little and says, ‘You know what? I can… actually see how that would work, but… Margery would kill you for suggesting it, for one thing. For another; doesn’t that mean you’d have to do more defensive work than usual?’ ‘Yes and yes. But again, who cares. If I’m not marked by an opponent, just send it back to me and reset. I won’t have long, but I’ll be able to think up something on the spot and spray some kind of pass forward. Just get back into an open space and I’ll pick someone out for a pass.’ Kelsey nods as understanding slowly unfurls in her mind’s eye. It’s not rocket science. As a matter of fact, it’s pretty basic football when it comes down to reality. But Talina still has one last doubt. ‘And if they counter-attack?’ ‘Everyone should be marking their nearest opponent’s run and shadowing them anyway. If they have the ball, pressure them. If they’re on the move, cut in front of their passing-lanes. You’ll have to do some sprinting, obviously, but when everyone’s running into our third, I’ll come forward and go up against whoever has the ball, force them to make a pass, or I make a tackle, either way I waste their time. Grace and Mandy should backtrack to shadow the opposition forwards when they run past me in case they’re looking to make a sprint into our box. Talina; by then, if the player you’re shadowing doesn’t have the ball, you and April just keep marking them so they don’t get to run out wide. And bam– we’re back into formation before they’re even in our final third.’ With a sly squint, Talina slowly nods, and is about to say something when she senses movement and looks over her shoulder. ‘You’re not seriously trying to give tactical suggestions, are you?’ Elisha butts in, stepping into their corner with one foot forward, looking inquisitively between the three of them. She shoots a down-the-nose frown at Matilda, an expression of disgust twisting her facial features. ‘You know that’s not what Margery has asked us to do. And you should be the last one to be saying anything to begin with, Tild. Look at you. How is anyone meant to take you seriously right now?’ Silence echoes like a propagating wave. Now everybody in the room is listening. Matilda sits on her bench like a child with nothing good to say and a rush of heat making her ears feel like they’re swelling. ‘I take her seriously,’ comes April’s voice all of a sudden. But her support had been too soft-spoken. Elisha’s attention is aimed on Matilda so telescopically that nothing else matters, and April’s voice behind her fades as if it had never spoken. Matilda feels her own face contort. She should be able to defend herself. Why can’t she talk back? Oh. She knows why. She doesn’t want to know, but she does. Elisha is right. Who is ever going to take her seriously? Her out of shape appearance has pulled any credibility she had out from under her feet. Anything she chooses to say is only undermined by the obscene lump of overfed softness in the front of her shirt, the strain of her hips against her shorts, the meaty thickness of her soft thighs against the edge of the bench. Elisha takes a few steps back to stand against the nearest empty locker so she can face and address the whole room. ‘I hate to do this, but I’m speaking on behalf of Margery, and as your captain when I say we have to trust the plan. I know we aren’t getting results, but we will. We will if we do this right. Stand straight. Look up. Suck it in, and commit to the boss’s tactics. Whether any of you like it or not, they will work.’ Matilda can’t help herself anymore. She’s about to lose her mind. She puts her hands on the edge of the bench and begins to rise. ‘But that’s–’ ‘Shut up, you fat ass,’ Elisha snaps, barely turning to acknowledge Matilda before continuing. In spite of herself, Matilda feels body-slammed to the floor. She slouches down with a heavy chest and tries not to make eye contact with the few girls she can tell are awkwardly glancing in her direction. ‘We have to believe in the plan,’ Elisha declares, planting one foot forward in assertive triumph. ‘If we all commit, it will work. Counter-attacks are about patience. We all know that. I know it might not be pretty, but it’s what we have to do for now… Not at all thanks to a certain someone who let themselves go, nooo, not at all… But, all we need to do is to stay focused, be patient, wait for the counter attack to properly present itself, don’t lose our cool by rushing in just to make an attempt at goal, and then eventually we will be able to do it right.’ Matilda can’t stay like this any longer. Her lungs are too full of fire. She hangs her head and hisses under her breath, deflating. Elisha notices. ‘Oh,’ swinging around, ‘and I guess you still have a problem with that, don’t you?’ She throws a hand at her in angry gesticulation. ‘You. You, who’s just sitting there like that. Don’t you get it? You’re half the reason these counter-attacks haven’t been working in the first place!’ ‘Oh, right,’ Matilda lifts her head to glare at the captain from under raised brows. ‘So you at least admit counter-attacking doesn’t work–’ ‘Only because of you!’ Elisha spits. ‘You’re such a let-down! You’re too fucking slow! How the fuck are we meant to get the ball through the midfield with you slowing it all down? Honestly, I don’t understand why you get all these chances?’ Elisha’s body leans into her words as her repressed rage begins to unravel itself in a verbal mess. ‘Why the fuck are you even still here?’ Her eyes are hugely wide, bright and icey like marbles, hatred tightening her facial features as she gives her head small erratic shakes left and right to punctuate her words; ‘Honestly, I don’t get it. I try but I just don’t. Actually, no, you know what? I don’t care anymore. I’m done.’ She turns away. ‘I’m so done, I’m so fucking done. I’m so through with this, I’m so done.’ She wheels back suddenly. ‘You are the worst; you let yourself get this fat and never do anything about it? Like– are you in denial? Is that it? Are you fucking ignoring it? Because I’m not. We aren’t. You’re so fucking chubby and out-of-shape, just some fat-ass now, I don’t get what your problem is. Oh I’m so fucking done.’ Elisha turns away once more, but then decides to wheel back a second time. ‘Like, what is honestly your deal? Did you sign a fucking contract with someone else? Did your daddy pay your way into a position here? You a trust-fund kid? You got dirt? You got dirt on someone? What did you ever do to deserve this? I’m so over it.’ Elisha turns and takes a step away. ‘So over it.’ Then turns back for yet a third time, one hand carving the air in gestures of furious articulation. ‘I don’t get how you let yourself get fat and still play this game. Like no, seriously. You can’t even play this game anymore. Look at you, you fat fucking pig; you don’t even fit your shorts anymore– and– and what the fuck is with this?’ She grasps around her own thin waist at an invisible paunch, ‘You look pregnant! Who in their right mind lets a woman play at four months pregnant? You need to go on a diet. Like. Right, now.’ Elisha shakes her head and turns on her heel for good this time. ‘So disgusting.’ As Elisha’s tirade snaps to an end, she finally stalks away. She packs up the last of her stuff into her bag and leaves the room. When all is silent again, Matilda finds herself unable to make any meaningful movements with her limbs. Everyone is looking at her. Left stung and beaten, she knows she ought to have something to say. Something to do. But she’s trapped. A great, sinking weight like a waterlogged rag wraps around her soul, holding it down low. She’s anchored to the bench upon which she sits. Her upper back aches. Her shoulder blades feel strained. The insides of her thighs feel hot and itchy against one another, and heat prickles under her arms. Kelsey is staring at the closed door through which Elisha has departed. There’s a doubtful shade in her eyes. A crease appears under her lids, tensing briefly just before it vanishes – just a momentary thought about something. Matilda slowly reaches for her bag, puts the last of her items away and closes it. The zipper’s length seems to stretch for as long as a highway into the desert. Keeping her eyes averted in what she hopes looks like stubborn defiance, she gets up and leaves. She can tell Kelsey is watching her go, and in those grey eyes is something that might be sympathy. But, oh god, no, that’s not what she needs right now. She wants to tell Kelsey to stop. Dragging her bag behind her, she exits the facility, walks out to her car, and gets inside, dangerously close to the precipice of a flood of angry tears. . . . Carlile cooks dinner for her that night. He listens to her in silence while he prepares the food. It’s well into the evening and most of her fury by now has been vented out her mouth, nose and ears, dispersing like smoke to join the kitchen’s ambient steam, and her throat is sore from talking for too long. She’s been sinking further and further into the stool as she runs out of words to say, and now she’s leaning across the bench, slumped over her elbows, her hair over her face in an un-combed mess. The anger is all gone, strangely. Now that it’s gone she just feels tired. Tired and hungry. But Carlile is right there across from her, glazing potatoes in her kitchen. He silently coats the vegetables in marinate, saying nothing, just listening. She lays there with her head in her hands and breathes sleepily, eyes looking up at him from under heavy lids. Something inside her slows down to a steady lethargic rhythm of peaceful safety. Her heart settles into place as she watches him work. Like a ball, spinning as fast as a wheel burning itself out against the tarmac, finally hitting the brakes and slowing down to eventual stasis. She feels like a downy feather tossed in the wind, floating down, swaying gently to eventual rest. It’s comforting to watch him work, his skilled movements satisfying to observe as they play out one by one. His hands are long and strong. He cuts the potatoes evenly, holding the knife in the same gentle, firm way he holds her hand. She wants to reach out for him, touch his fingers, lace them around her own and slowly rub her hands into his reassuring warmth. Ever since his induction week ended, Carlile has begun to change. Physically. He turns away from her to carry the sliced potatoes to an oiled tray beside the pre-heated oven, and that’s when she notices the roundness in the back of his shirt where his hip bones used to sit sharper. A filmy wash of desire sheathes her eyeballs as she scans his body up and down. She can’t see anything below his stuffy grey sweatpants, but something is different higher up. His stomach bends out against his shirt somewhat, moreso down low than up high. But how has she only just noticed this? Is it really that sudden? Oh. God. She lets her eyes flit up to the back of his head, then back down, eyelids droopy with desire, and she stretches her body over the bench to crane towards one side for a better view. Then he turns around and catches her. She glances up and gives him a guilty, filthy smirk. ‘Hmm,’ she hums, pressing her lips together and still smirking. ‘You must be eating whatever you’re cooking at the kitchen.’ She swears he’s quickly sucked in, the overt shape of his stomach shrinking back. The soft imprint of his hips remain there, however, too stubborn, unable to go anywhere else. ‘What’re you talking about?’ he says, looking away. Matilda sits a little straighter and shrugs, still smirking. ‘Nothing.’ . . . The Purple Vale Strikers visit Brentwood FC’s grounds that Friday to play their eleventh match of the season. The game goes all whack with stop-start motion that doesn’t really go anywhere. It turns out Elisha ratted on Matilda to Margery, thoroughly stomping on any chance she had at kindling a tactical flame in the girls’ game plan and forcing Kelsey and Talina to apologetically put Matilda’s ideas to the side. Despite being shoehorned back into Margery’s stiff, unfluid counter-attacking routine, the girls play without making any drastic mistakes, and everyone sticks their foot into the match with a growling fight that leaves them bruised and grazed for 93 minutes. Everyone except for Matilda, who can’t keep it up with that anymore. She is technically a defender, now, and she is stuck playing down the back line of the park. Except that every time she gets the ball, she fails to keep the momentum going forward down the lanes, either losing the ball to a tackle or running into a gang of opposition midfielders who find the time to rocket back into a defensive wall and force her to backpedal before she can cover any ground. She can hear angry locals yelling from the sidelines, but she doesn't allow herself to tune into what they’re saying. Around the 80th minute, a loose ball rolls away from a tackle eight yards from her. Elisha and Kelsey both converge on it, and Matilda sidesteps into some open space in case they need to pass the ball back to safety. As she moves out, she can hear her own breath like grinding rocks, and now an opponent jogs around the side to start man-marking her. Elisha gets to the ball first, and turns with it towards Matilda. The nearby opponent puts hands against Matilda’s arm and jostles with her. Instead of passing the ball, Elisha hoofs it clear up over Matilda’s head, all the way back to Nysha in goals. When Matilda tries to untangle herself from her opponent to run down the pitch, the girl gets in front to push off her body at a head start – her hands slipping down to accidentally push against Matilda’s waist, copping a fingerful or two of soft pudge. ‘Oh my god, what happened there?’ Matilda hears the girl laugh as she runs off at a jog. Once the game ends with a 1 - 1 draw, she doesn’t hang around for any longer than it takes to change back into her clothes. The atmosphere in the change rooms is thick with invisible poison, gloom, and the threat of a managerial outburst closing in on all sides like an approaching stormfront. So she’s dashed out the door and into the unfamiliar parking lot before anyone can stop her. Sweat still coats her forehead, turning cold as the night air meets her skin. Her silver Suzuki Swift is parked in a corner away from the harsh white glare of the floodlights. Coming around the driver’s side, feeling safe and stealthy, she unlocks the door, slips into the seat of her small vehicle, and allows herself to be swallowed up by the entombment of darkness and safety. That is until she flicks her headlights on, and the sheen of frosty moisture across the windshield illuminates the smears of scribbles written on it by someone’s finger. The letters don’t make sense at first. “ s s a t a f ” Did somebody mis-spell a name? She blinks, and then tries reading it backwards. Her heart sinks, oozing through the gaps of her ribcage like emulsified jelly. “ f a t a s s ” Someone has written on the outside of her car – as if she didn’t know – that she is a fatass. Letting her head drop, she glances over each shoulder, out of the windows into the darkness beyond, but can’t spot anybody nearby. She realises she’s still breathing loud enough to hear herself. God, she’s so unfit. A fat, weak, out of shape piece of shit who used to be the best in this sport. What is left of her now, but a **-bellied pig of a thing who’s sitting alone in her car, struggling not to sob beneath the oppressive weight of this name-badge written before her eyes on the windshield? She’s an unfit chubster who hasn’t even begun to fasten her seatbelt yet, knowing that when she does, she’ll have to deal with the fleshy package of softness that her belly has become, pressing against her fingers, and be forced to acknowledge a part of her that never existed before. And yet, in spite of it all, she can’t find the tears to cry with. She wants to, but there’s nothing available. Maybe it’s because the idiot who did it couldn’t even think to write it in reverse on the outside so it scans correctly from the inside. On the one hand, the word on the windshield hurts. But on the other hand, it somehow feels like scratching a terrible itch. She deserves this. She made herself chubby on purpose. She’s pathetic, and she’s gross. She has a fat belly, and fat thighs, and now someone has finally announced it to the public – a painful fact like a patch of restless nerve-endings trapped for too long beneath a plaster cast of “politeness”, busted open at last to be scratched at with long-overdue relief. Is that why this feels kind of nice, in a fucked up way? Matilda stares at the insulting letters on the windscreen, and for a brief moment in time, she imagines letting them stay there. Then she knocks the wiper lever down and watches the blades sweep up, back down – up, back down – erasing the word from existence. With that done, she drives off, feeling hungrier than she should be. . When she gets back home, she launches into escapism with her entire soul. This is her last night to be alone with Carlile in her house before her parents return, so she wants to milk every vibrant minute of this time like the last drops of life in a wasteland. He is already inside, having used a spare key. As soon as Matilda comes into the kitchen, she latches onto him like a facehugger not even two steps through the entrance and tells him to get the fuck into her bedroom. But he tells her to wait first. He’s only just finished cooking them a giant dinner in time for her return. So they sit and eat in each other’s company, packing a little too much food into their stomachs by the time they’re done, and find themselves burdened with bellies too full to keep sharp minds, their patterns of thought gone as dull and blunt as mallets. They shove each other onto the couch in front of an unwatched movie, the wide TV screen flickering light across their bodies in the unlit room as they peel each other’s clothes away like gifts to each other, the room silent except for that sensual hiss of skin brushing against skin, of clothes rustling. They make love, bathing in the heat of each other’s bodies as they touch, caress, squeeze and grope. But it’s not long before she comes to sense that same feeling of avoidant distance, once again, in the way Carlile is moving around her. He won’t allow her hands to come near anything remotely soft – and that’s a problem. As he redirects her touch, time and time again, to the more exercise areas of his body, she realises that he’s been visiting the gym again. He's going to lose all his softness. Matilda’s heart wrinkles, and something inside her loses a gush of hot air. Her mood almost dies on the spot. But she can’t go back now. Pushing aside what she knows is just petty anger, she gives herself some time for its absence to take hold – and then, in its wake, a wave of aggressive passion floods into her body, filling her with something unbearable. She grabs him by the shoulders and plants hard kisses up and down his collarbones. He cups his hand under her groin and begins searching for her sensitive spot. Before they know it, everything is spiralling out of control faster than a chemical reaction rising, frothing, exploding over the head of a beaker. . . . During the evening of the next day, the sun keeps popping in and out of hiding behind flat grey clouds. She stares out her bedroom window, thinking about last night. He’d fucked her until it pounded. Even now, she feels a tenderness one stage below a bruise between her legs. Taking outside a small rubbish bag filled with their used protection and dropping it discreetly in the general waste can just in time for her mother to return home from the airport in a taxi, she’d felt herself walk back inside with a bit of a funny gait. As she sits at her desk with her laptop, eating a bowl of ice cream and playing around on Football Manager, she hears her phone go off behind her somewhere in the blankets of her unmade bed. She knows who it is. But she won’t be going to training today. It’s not like she deliberately made that decision. It’s just that something inside her doesn’t have the strength to lift a finger about it. As if the option simply isn’t there to be clicked on the menu. And anyway, if Elisha is going to be a filthy rat and destroy any chance at making the right adjustments to the team’s tactical play, then what is the point in playing? The idea of sacrifice is dead, now, and she has killed it, all for a head coach who does not possess a single good idea about how to manage eleven young female footballers. Carlile had left earlier in the morning to prepare himself for a long day in the kitchen, leaving her alone, bored, and with nothing to do except eat ice cream, simulate virtual football matches, and wait until the late afternoon when she can use the excuse of “dinner time” to eat an entire meal. So she sits in peaceful solitude at her laptop, scoffing ice cream with more speed than she realises, getting up for stealthy refills every now and then until the spoon scrapes the bottom of the empty carton and her stomach feels overburdened with dairy – her metabolism trying, but failing, to deal with the catastrophic onslaught of surplus calories. . . . When she arrives at the clinic for her intern shift early the next morning, Matilda knows she shouldn’t have done what she did. Well, there’s many things she shouldn’t have done. Shouldn’t have binged all that ice cream. Shouldn’t have worn this outfit. Shouldn’t have even turned up. Should have gone to the gym instead. Should have quit this headlong binge weeks ago while she was still ahead, when it was clear Margery was never going to budge. Taking a moment to be alone in the restroom before she goes out through the foyer to meet Dr Goodwynn, she stands with her back against the tiled wall and glares loathsomely at the ceiling, mouthing nasty words to herself over and over. Her mistakes have chosen now, of all possible moments, to step out of hell’s portal and overwhelm every cortex of her fucked up brain with panic. She wasn’t ready for this. Then again, she was never ready for anything, was she? Not like she thought she was. The truth is all too clear, now that she sees it from within the brown blur of muck she’s trapped in. The rotting state of her club – her childhood club – infused with so many irretrievable memories, hopes and dreams slowly sliding away from her, further with every bite of fattening food, every molecule of adipose tissue wriggling into its place to join the fray, even now, probably. From the very start, her plan had been the poorly thought-out design of a belligerent child thinking they could build a rocket ship to the moon out of cardboard, and it has all come to its cataclysmic conclusion at last, miles off-track from where she projected to land. What the fuck was she thinking, forcing her body to store fat against its natural metabolistic will? Besieging her stomach until she broke its default setting? Was she really deluded enough to think she could do enough “damage” to her club that they would be forced to perform a “Hard Reset” and “start anew” with “a different manager”? What a disgusting, spilled-over, splattered mess of an entitled fantasy. Her clothes won’t even sit on her body with sufficient slack anymore. It’s no longer simply a matter of discomfort, nor just about the sensation of tightness. She had found the mental strength to deal with these worsening maladjustments and the cognitive dissonance for so long – but all those mental gymnastics are unravelling, now, faster than a coiled spring. And something’s going to get damaged. What’s really concerning is that she just… woke up one morning from a dream she had about being a railroad construction worker building a rail track into Neverland, only to find her clothes just straight up wouldn’t fit her body when she tried them on that morning. It’s a lucky thing she brought a long woollen cardigan with her today, otherwise she’d be showing narrow wedges of exposed skin for everyone’s eyes to see. It probably looks stylistically stupid, buttoning a cardigan which is meant to hang open, but she’s got no choice. Her enlarged belly has filled the front of her collared white shirt with its roundness, pressing against the waistband of her slacks to the point that the bulge of her gut is putting a mean strain against the shirt’s buttons. As a matter of stylistic design, her slacks have no central zipper for a fly, but instead zip up either side. Problem is, she can’t fully close the zips on the sides of her slacks, even though her breakfast-bloated stomach has slowly digested back down to a more relaxed state. Having to suck in all the time has been causing problems – making it harder than she feels she deserves to draw a sufficiently deep breath into her lungs– and the buried musculature of her abdomen aches from having to hold tight under an endless outwards tension. It’s like planking. She can’t do it forever. There comes a point where she has to stop sucking in. A short time later, Matilda wanders down into Dr Goodwynn’s office. Taking her seat on the opposite corner of her desk, she has to keep plucking at the folds of her cardigan to make sure every part of the garment is perfectly rumpled in such a way. But the thick woollen knit keeps wanting to settle around the shape of the most incriminating bulges and curves of her softened stomach – the way it squashes together and rolls into its own mass no matter how she sits. She tries to keep her focus rigid as a rock while she watches patients come in and out of the office one by one for consultations and various treatments, but the sensation of her belly’s lower skin pressing against tight fabric, pushing up over the belt’s buckle, takes her mind away from the present again and again, unbelievably distracting. As the day churns on, Matilda begins to sense that something is… missing from Dr Goodwynn’s repertoire of language. Whenever an appointment ends, Dr Goodwynn takes five or ten minutes to discuss the patient’s problems with Matilda; to teach her about what went right, what went wrong, and to explain each decision she made based on her knowledge. Thing is, Matilda has noticed that just over half of the patients who come in on any given day are bordering on overweight, a few of them guaranteed to be quite fat. And yet not even once has Dr Goodwynn uttered the words “fat”, “weight”, “overweight”, “size”, or anything remotely synonymous, today. Actually, now that she thinks about it, she hadn’t even said those words last week. Matilda comes to realise just how tacitly she has been side-stepping those words precisely at the threshold of being brought up. Dr Goodwynn’s verbal dance is masterful, the gesture almost sweet… But Matilda wishes she would just say something, already. Just admit that she can tell. Get it over with. The elephant in the room is too loud, taking up too much space. Nobody can move around it. The itch needs to be scratched – just like the writing left on her windshield. F a t a s s. That’s exactly it. I’m a fatass, she confesses internally. Thank you for noticing. I have a fat wobbling ass now. I have a round jiggly beer gut and it pushes over my pants. I have fat legs. I have chubby hips. My tits are growing like they haven’t since I was fourteen. Even my arms look thicker. I know I am. Tell me again, I’m listening. Call me out on it. Dr Goodwynn is moving her lips, and her smooth dark hand is gently waving above her vision. ‘…Matilda? Is everything okay?’ Matilda sucks in a lungful of air and straightens in her seat, feeling a row of buttons stiffen down the front of her blouse as her breasts and stomach in unison seek to push against them. All that’s stopping it from being seen is this stupid cardigan. ‘Sorry, I…’ She lowers her gaze and shakes her head in apology. Nudging her glasses back up her nose, Dr Goodwynn’s dark brows pinch together as she peers at her student. ‘Are you feeling unwell?’ ‘Uhm. No.’ ‘This is quite uncharacteristic of you.’ Concern colours Dr Goodwynn’s face as she evaluates Matilda’s posture. Then she glances at the clock in the corner of her computer screen. ‘It is nearly afternoon. You are clearly unwell. I will not object if you need to go home.’ Matilda puts her hands in her lap and twists her thumb from side to side. Among all the posters on the wall, a BMI chart happens to catch her eye, and she glares at it like she might decipher some hidden message. ‘That’s… really kind of you, but… No, I’m fine.’ For some reason she feels like she needs to eat. ‘I don’t mean to press,’ Dr Goodwynn speaks carefully, leaning with her elbow on the desk and swivelling her chair around to face her squarely. ‘But how is playing at your club going? The last time you told me, you said things weren’t going so well. You had run into some problems. Your coach? If I remember correctly things weren’t very good between you two.’ Matilda smiles. ‘Yeah. Yeah, that’s it. That’s all it is.’ Dr Goodwynn nods, saying “okay” with her eyes. Matilda withers like a dried flower. Well, it’s not a lie, is it? You can stretch half-truths to surprising lengths, if you give it a try. . . . Late to training. Again. She almost didn’t turn up at all. It’s getting far into the evening, and the sun has cooked the air to an oven-like warmth of stagnant humidity trapped among them by low clouds. At least that’s how it feels to her lethargic, perspiring limbs as she battles to push her body through several warm-up routines. During a brief lull in exercises, she hurries over to the sideline and bends over with a funny little sound coming from her mouth to pick up her bottle and take a long, hard drink. Her cheeks feel swollen with heat, blood surging through the vessels beneath her skin and neck. Her ears rush with over-pressurised circulation. Someone is calling out. Pulling her lips off the bottle with a smack, she gulps the last mouthful of water and resumes panting as she slaps the cap shut again. Her dizzy sight has never swirled this bad in her life. There are little flecks at the edges of her vision– ‘Matilda!’ The shouting resolves into the sound of her name and she spins around to see Coach Karen looking at her from ten yards away, waving her hand in the air for attention. ‘Earth to Matilda. Hello. Yes, you. Coach Ilda has something she wants to tell you, please.’ Karen points across the grass towards the club building, where the distant form of coach Ilda stands, thin and Germanic, with her arms folded, leaning her weight back on one leg. Matilda looks back at Karen, but the small woman has already turned and walked off to rearrange a row of training cones. Matilda has to make her way around the boundary line so she doesn’t get in the way of the girls as they go running all over the place. At the dead centre of the pitch is Margery, hawking out micromanagements and instructions. She can feel Ilda’s gaze from all the way over here, and her belly is shaking as well. Fuck. Is it visible? Cotton fibre is tickling her stomach in places it isn’t meant to. Her upper thighs wobble on their frames. The journey around the outside of the pitch takes longer than she feels like it ought to. Once she comes to stand before the coach at last, Ilda is looking at her like she’s nothing more than a blank block of concrete. ‘Hello Matilda,’ Ilda says, in that flat, angular accent. ‘I must deliver bad news.’ Matilda sways on her feet as a beat of unexpected silence goes by, forcing her to either wait and elongate the silence, or break the silence and ask what the bad news is. She can hear the girls shouting “pass! pass! here! over here! Open!” The whistle screeches now and again. The ball thumps and thuds. Feet pound grass in a haphazard patter. Ilda itches the side of her thin nose, one eyebrow lifting. Then she sighs, chest rising and falling, and looks off into the distance over Matilda’s shoulder with a squint. ‘Margery has asked of me zhat I pass on some instructions.’ A cursory glance at the head coach holding her whistle in the centre of the action. Ilda’s accent clips the ends off her words as she says, ‘As of now, you are to move into centre-back. Very much centre-back. A line of five, we are to assume. Vee are to train for a defensive formation of a five-two-two-one. Zhis is where you have brought us to. You are poor, Matilda. You are a poor, poor player.’ A sledgehammer swings from Ilda’s mouth into Matilda’s sternum, and she feels her spirit sent reeling backwards out of her body from the impact. She stands awkwardly in stiff paralysis. Where did her feet go? She wants to drink. She wants to sink into the grass and decompose. She wants to cry. She wants to feel tears break loose from her eyes as they painfully swell and wet her cheeks. But they aren’t there. All that fills her is shock. Empty shock. And anger, waiting. Her throat grows thick with a hard lump like granite. What Ilda says is right. It is all her fault. Everything is her fault. She’s fat. She’s out of shape. She’s had this coming in the form of a time-bomb delayed way too long. Get it over with, she mentally projects her will. Tell me I’m fat. Just do it. ‘Margery has instructed me,’ Ilda drags on, ‘to inform you of zhis. She can hardly stand to look at you, you know zhis? She is fürious. I will not say anything of why– you know why. Why you continue is beyond the reaches of my mind. As for her other lines of reasoning? Vell, your performance in the previous game is of particular note. Your… attitude, also. She cited also the many chances given to you previously. If I was to guess, then today was her last straw. You neglected to show up at all during the last session, and as of today, you do decide to grace us with your presence, however you are late once again. She sees fit now to punish you such zhat befits your behaviour.’ A breeze sighs past them in the silence that follows. The coach is still gazing past her, somewhere into the middle distance. Matilda tries to make a split-second decision. Nothing? Or something? She’s rattling inside the bars of her own chest, yelling. The way forward is a high-risk move, but for some reason she takes it – even if it’s just to get a reaction. Feeling anything and everything except the aloof cockiness she’s pretending to exude, Matilda forces her shoulders up into a careless shrug. She looks away to the side, hoping it comes off as arrogant disinterest. ‘Okay. Fine then,’ she mutters. ‘So I’m a centre-back now. Fine.’ Coach Ilda simply stares at her, now, teeth nibbling something behind her pinched-shut lips. . Half an hour later, Matilda stands in the middle of a line of five as they perform practice drills in their new formation. The girls quickly figure out what’s happened, and why, and they decide to sneak silent glances at her, mixed somewhere between accusation and apology. It seems they can’t decide. She takes up her new position with as much pride as she can manage, thinking it will make things easier, less physical, more mental. But she still finds herself growing sore and stiff-lunged by the session’s end, despite being asked to run less than usual. She never has to pivot. She never has to launch. She never has to leap into a short burst of speed, or pounce on something. Nor is she ever needed to sprint from one end of the pitch to the other in pursuit of the ball… and yet here she is, walking with hands on hips, sore, and slightly winded. And it’s Elisha’s time, now. It’s her golden era. She proudly takes Matilda’s old position on the wing, a spot she has always stared at with longing eyes and a salivating tongue. The prized role. A double-title of captain and playmaking winger. And everyone can see it, with Elisha’s back sticking up straight as a rod, eyes deeply focused like newly-calibrated laser beams, making passes with finer precision than anyone has seen in all three years of her tenure with the team. With Stacey shifting deeper to a left wing-back position, closer to Matilda’s line of passing, the two of them have to practise communicating as a pair for the first time in forever – but Stacey doesn’t seem too keen on it, leaving Matilda to awkwardly shift around the pitch, waiting for a backwards pass from Stacey during scrimmages and noticing the sheer resentment in her body language each time she’s forced into doing so. In the locker rooms afterwards, she tries to make some tactical suggestions, but Elisha bursts into flame all over again, coming down on her with such colossal fury that she nearly bursts a vein in her neck, letting her know to either shut the fuck up or get out. And there’s Stacey, behind her, throwing sardonic smirks as she bends an ear to the tirade. To make things worse, as if putting a grace-note of cauterisation to an open wound, coach Ilda pulls her aside afterwards to have a private word. The message is simple. ‘Stop trying to undermine us, Matilda. Or you are finished here.’ . . . On her study desk two days later on a Friday night sit two empty pizza boxes, a milkshake, and an apple crumble, still only half eaten, for dessert. She sits in her underwear, bedroom door locked, lost deep in a Football Manager session well into midnight as she finishes eating her dessert, her bloated stomach billowing out at full mast from her middle, and the upper meat of her thighs beginning to squeeze together. She doesn’t know it yet, but a microscopic stretch mark or two are beginning to redden along the outer zone of her breasts as they come close to reaching the size of mangos, their smooth flesh just beginning to overgrow the sides of her bra cups. . . . The team’s efforts that weekend against Ringhill Rangers FC awards them a 1 - 1 draw. Again. It’s awkward to play a full match defensively for practically the first time in her life, but eventually Matilda settles into the rhythm of the play and understands what is expected of her and when. The only reason the girls score a goal at all is because of a confident spell of attacking pressure that lasts for a solid twenty minutes. But after that, Matilda keeps getting outpaced, negged and dribbled around every time an enemy attacker near her with the ball. No matter how accurately she angles her intercepting runs, she can never get there on time, missing the chance to tackle by one or two missed strides. By the time the first half nears its end, she’s losing almost every breath she takes the moment it fills her lungs. For this, everybody pays the price. Barely five minutes into the second half, an opposition midfielder runs at her with the ball. Matilda spreads her feet, crabbing from side to side to meet them, making her defensive shadow as wide as possible… but they double-feint right, then cut left at the last minute, sending Matilda slipping backwards onto her ass as she sticks one foot out, her buttery thigh sent up and jiggling, missing the ball. She is left to watch as her opponent crosses the ball over to an enemy winger who’d been making a well-timed run through their backline towards the box, then passes it back to their midfielder, who lobs it straight over Grace’s head as she’s still turning to sprint back. The ball loops perfectly into the top corner of the net where Nysha wouldn’t have laid a finger on it even if she was Superwoman. From that moment, whenever the ball is up the attacking end of the pitch — a spell of grace during which Matilda can finally lean on her knees and suck air into her lungs — Nysha paces in front of the goals, sending her sidelong glances of concern. When the final whistle screeches, she knows the lost lead is on her shoulders. The opposition goal was her fault. But outside of that mistake, the rest of the ninety minutes are a different story. The pressure the enemy put on them should never have been allowed. She wants to ask Margery if she noticed how thin they were stretched on the defensive transition. Does she see how few options are available in the middle? Does she see the lack of depth in the forward wings? Does she see Evangeline looking utterly bored with nothing to do but knock the back every time she receives it? Does she see how much space the opposition players have to find angles all the way into their defensive half? She wants to ask a million questions. Her chance to complain comes in the locker rooms when April wonders out loud why it seemed like the opponent wing-backs never needed to actually run down the wings. ‘Why would they need to?’ Matilda huffs between heavy breaths, even though others have already regulated their breathing. ‘We’re stretched so thin in our midfield… and we’re not allowed to use our fullbacks to create numbers when we transition forward… Then the ball turns over, and we have nobody to contest for it in the midfield. So it’s just our fucking backline against… against everyone on the other team all coming at us? No wonder we got outflanked in the midfield.’ This is when Margery finally materialises, as if from mist, the entire locker room flattened under a heavy blanket of silence. The rest of what happens is like a fever dream – half experienced, half remembered, but only in a haze of traumatised confusion. Standing at the door, Margery screams at Matilda to shut up or get out, then proceeds to jet them all with flaming rage like molten ore in a furnace, yelling so shrill and loud that her voice quickly disintegrates into a hoarse rasp nobody can understand every word of – and just when they think it’s finally over, she doubles back to scream some more, about how they’re all upstarts, none of them are really trying, none of them really care, how they’re all underperforming and a disgrace to the standards set by all those that have come before them, and that they’ll cause her an early death from stress and dismay. Dear Margery Hartwell, if only that were true… Out in the parking lot on the way to her car, with her head down, the only thing in Matilda’s line of sight is the gravel beneath her feet. She’s almost far enough to feel safe again, when she hears two familiar voices coming from behind her. ‘Matilda.’ ‘Hey, wait up.’ ‘Matilda, wait.’ She stops, then turns to look. It’s Beth and Talina. Shuffling sideways to hide out of sight behind a big silver SUV, she waits for her teammates to catch up with her. They’re carrying their duffel bags over their shoulders. Coming to a stop between two cars, Talina stands slightly in front of Beth, wearing a frown, but not one of anger or accusatory distrust, the way she expects from everybody these days. Instead, they ask her if she wants to go grab a drink and “talk” about things. Her first instinct is reluctance. Or is it just laziness, these days? She ums and ahs about it. But they aren’t letting her off the hook so easily. They push until she eventually gives in — another behaviour that has been characteristic of her lately; giving in. She’s a hungry, lazy, chubbed-up push over. ‘Meet you at The Heelwood, then?’ Talina says. ‘Yeah. Okay. Sure.’ . About fifteen minutes later, they reconvene at a small lakeside venue not far from Prathfort – an S-shaped, glass-walled complex with a view over a few acres of undeveloped land and the rear-end of a golf course neighbouring a huge reservoir used for the city’s southern water supply. Beth and Talina sit on tall stools across the table from her with their backs to the view. Matilda finds herself gazing over their shoulders an uncharacteristic amount of times, her spirits coasting at a low glide, drained of fuel. They chat idly as they share a bowl of quinoa salad, garlic bread and a few glasses of wine, avoiding the looming agenda for now. Matilda realises she’s overstepping her drink quota when she asks a waiter for a second glass of wine before she can stop the words tumbling off her tongue. When the last piece of garlic bread leaves the plate, then all of a sudden Talina and Beth grow serious. ‘Okay, so, look,’ Talina leans forward on her elbows, ‘now that we’re alone, I guess we can talk about things?’ When Matilda meets her gaze, what she sees in those eyes is solid confidentiality, earnest determination. Good attributes for a defender to have. If Matilda had any say in it, she would have made Talina the captain years ago. ‘Sure,’ she shrugs with fake naivety, raising her glass to her lips to disguise their nervous movements. ‘What’s up?’ Talina shares a glance with Bethany, then turns back to Matilda. ‘A couple of things. First of all, we’ve both been thinking; we want you to know that we totally, one-hundred percent agree with everything you’ve been saying. Teamwise, that is. Strategywise. Everything. All of it. We’re on your side–’ ‘And so are the others!,’ Beth interjects. ‘Exactly. We can speak on behalf of everyone– well, almost everyone. It’s just that we’re all too afraid to say anything. We know how Margery is, now. She’d have a melt-down if she felt a gust of wind. But you know that. Probably most of all. It’s bad there. None of us feel like we have a voice.’ Matilda blows a lungful of air out her mouth and nods, looking down at the table's wood, the particular diagonal slant of its varnished grain. ‘…Yyyyyeah,’ she grunts at length, taking a dejected sip of wine. A wide open feeling of space swirls up into her head. ‘You must know that more than most,’ Talina admits. ‘Yup.’ Matilda growls again, taking another disillusioned, mournful sip of wine. Beth shifts in her seat, eager to speak. ‘At least it looks that way, for you,’ she says. ‘All we ever see is Margery hammering you, and hammering you, and… over, and over, and over… and I just… we just…’ ‘We’re just worried,’ Talina finishes for her. ‘You’re having a real hard time of it, and we just wanted to check up on you, ask you if you’re doing alright. We should have done it already. Reckon we should have done it ages ago. We don’t want you thinking we don’t care.’ Matilda feels an unexpected smile peel across her face. She lets it show, but turns it into a harsh laugh at the last minute, teeth bared. With another angry sip, she thumps her glass back down and lets the ensuing silence speak for her. Her two teammates adjust themselves awkwardly in their seats. Then Talina goes on. ‘We’re here for you, Tild. We just want to know, is all. I mean, it’s not to be critical or nothing, but I guess we’re starting to ask some, uh… questions. Now it’s at a stage where we have to ask.’ ‘What questions?’ Matilda demands. She already knows, but she wants to believe she doesn’t. She’d rather ignorance would coat her eyes and so remain blind forever. Talina rubs her lips and thinks, as if deciding upon which words to use. ‘I don’t know how to put this. But do you realise how much you’ve changed? Actually that’s a dumb-ass thing to say, of course you would, I’m sorry. I don’t want to corner you on this, but do you realise we can see how much you’ve changed?’ Warmth drains from her cheeks down through her neck and into her stomach where it begins to churn like some freezing, arctic tumult. She shrugs. ‘Uh… I dunno?’ scrambling to deflect the conversation away from wherever it’s going, ‘I– I just think if Kendra never left, then– And why are all the people involved in this fucking club’s problems all have names that start with M?– Like Margery?– and me?– Oh maybe I’m one, ha!– And it’s the tactics, too, they are just… I don’t know… they…’ Not realising that she’s been taking sips of wine between phrases to stall for time, she stops and blinks in confusion as a sudden swirl of lightness tightens around her ears. Her stomach feels heavy. She can feel it in her shirt, cumbersome and greedy for space. She’s not even full yet. Is it going to be like this all the time now? ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, Tild, but–’ Talina hesitates, sighing. ‘Would you say you’ve been eating more than usual lately?’ Matilda deflects with a quick, ‘No?’ as fast as a snapped rubber band. Her hands feel awkward. They feel large. She doesn’t know where to put them. She shakes her head, hoping it adds veracity to her denial – but she feels stuck too deep in a claggy swamp of panic to believe in her own lies enough to pull them off. She looks at their faces, one then the other. Their eyes are flat, unblinking. They don’t believe her, do they? They ask again, wording it in different ways multiple times, but she categorically denies each alternately-phrased attempt. Eventually they give up and Talina orders another bottle of wine as they move onto other topics. Compelled by an unwavering chorus of anxiety between her ears, she sips the dregs of her alcohol too fast and gets woozy. They talk some more and she pours herself some more and she gets even woozier. At some point or another, she sways off her stool to go to relieve her bladder in the toilet, and wastes half the time she spends in the cubicle fumbling with the drawstring in her shorts and laughing spitefully at the stupid, round quality of her stomach, slapping it like a naughty child that needs to be told off. There has to be a good five pounds of breakfast, bread and wine in this big, taut drum of a thing – maybe more. When she comes back to the table, Beth checks her phone and says, ‘Well it’s nearly dinner time. Anyone else feeling hungry?’ Talina shrugs. ‘Sure.’ At that moment, Matilda feels a corner of her stomach that is somehow still empty unleash a subsonic growl. She nods yes without thinking, first, that she can’t be eating this much food anymore. So they all order a meal each. When the food arrives, they put conversation on hold, and it isn’t long before her two teammates are looking at her with something like confusion or pity in their eyes as she devours her entire burger, every last stray onion and drop of sauce and all, before they’ve even progressed halfway through theirs. It’s as if some secret suspicion has, at last, had its hypothesis confirmed. Matilda straightens and wriggles her uncomfortable backside around on the stool as she tries to find a way to sit that doesn’t make her belly feel like a cannonball fastened to her waist with tight ratchet straps. ‘Okay, look,’ Talina says all of a sudden, putting her knife and fork down. ‘I’m sorry but I need to bring this up again. I’m sorry. But seriously? You just go and finish a burger like that in record time? And you tell us everything’s fine? Matilda, come on. Look at you.’ Talina’s shoulders drop as a sympathetic frown creases her brow. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way, but… are you in denial about something? We’re just worried for you, Tild.’ Gesturing towards her bloated state. ‘We can tell you’ve undone your belt, by the way. Not that we’re judging or anything. Sometimes you need to. Especially if…’ Matilda freezes. One arm starts to slide over her stomach. ‘Look– once again, please do not take this the wrong way– but you’ve just changed in a matter of months. That’s all. And you haven’t said a word. We don’t want to suggest you’re getting fat or anything. We just,’ she glances at Beth again, ‘we just wanted to know…’ ‘Know what?’ ‘Are you pregnant?’ Matilda feels her chest bubble. Laughter hits the back of her throat, but fails to emerge. She stares at them. She blinks slowly, trying not to lower her eyes, but having an impossibly difficult time of it. ‘It’s okay,’ Beth tries to console her. ‘You can tell us.’ Matilda’s voicebox spasms. ‘Yes. I know– I mean– what? No. No.’ Beth’s entire face pulls back into itself like a flower blossoming in reverse, sucked into a vortex of embarrassment. ‘So then…’ she falters. Talina says, ‘You don’t have to pretend, Matilda. Honestly, you’re totally safe with us.’ ‘Guys,’ Matilda pleads. ‘I’m not pregnant. I swear. At least I’m sure I’m not.’ ‘Really?’ Matilda’s eyebrows curl upwards. She’s just exposed herself under the harsh light of truth. The only other explanation has revealed itself by elimination. The expressions on her teammates’ faces are a heavy mixture of many things. ‘So, you’re not pregnant?’ Talina clarifies. Matilda licks her lips and reaches for the wine glass again. ‘No,’ she says, eyes slipping aside. She can’t do it. She can’t look them directly in the eyes. Talina leans forward and lowers her voice. ‘Okay, then please– be honest. I’ll be honest. Don’t take this the wrong way. But if you’re not getting pregnant, then… you look like you are? Honestly, Tild, if you’re having a hard time with something, we’re here for you. We don’t want to see you suffer. Do you hear me?’ Beth nods in agreement. ‘You were there for me. Remember? So I want to be there for you. And you know what? So do the rest of us. Remember what April went through?’ ‘People don’t just blow up like this,’ Talina presses. ‘If you’re binge-eating, coping with bad habits, or anything– absolutely anything– you need to stop before it’s too late. You’ll end up twice your size!’ Matilda's voice shrinks to the size of a squirrel. ‘I know,’ she says, feeling herself sink back down into her seat. The floor feels very close. Her shoulders feel heavy and sore. The noises around her are so loud all of a sudden; the chatter of people – people everywhere – talking, gabbing, yelling, gesticulating, leaning back in peals of explosive laughter. ‘If you already know, then do you need help? To stop?’ ‘I don’t know.’ Matilda can barely hear herself. ‘Don’t know? What do you mean?’ ‘Don’t worry about it.’ Talina shuts her eyes, then wiggles her head in confusion. ‘I–’ She presses her lips tight. ‘I don’t really understand.' Automatically raising the glass to her mouth, Matilda flinches as a hand shoots across the table to push it back down. She frowns, then slowly lets Talina drag press her hand back onto the table. ‘No,’ Talina says, shaking her head. ‘No more. Okay? From now on we have to stop you. No more drinks, or you won’t be able to drive. You’ll need to wait a bit before you can drive again.’ With a prolonged, high-shouldered shrug, Matilda lets go of the glass and folds her arms over her waist as she slouches, gazing out the darkening window behind her teammates. ‘Let’s just talk about something else, then,’ Beth suggests in a helpful manner. ‘We can forget about this for now. How about that?’ . Matilda suppresses tears all the way home in the car, her fists clenched tight on the wheel, knuckles pale as bone. Last thing she needs is her parents to see signs of crying on her face when she walks through the door. Later on, alone in her room and feeling heavy with exhaustion, she’s not sure she can keep it up much longer as the weight of the day comes down on her like the crashing peak of a wave. She feels fat. Tired and fat. She probably looks all bloated and huge right now. Maybe Talina and Beth are right. She must look awful. The urge to get a cold hard look at herself in a mirror teases her mind, flirting with the threat of self-humiliation. But as she dumps her duffel bag against her bed, she glances at the clock. It’s late. She should just put herself to bed. Forget it all. Cry, maybe. Fall asleep and let the whole slate wipe itself clean. Get up in the morning, move on with life, hope Carlile doesn’t get turned off the moment he sees her gross, bloated, pregnant appearance. She barely changes out of her clothes before flopping onto her bed, whole body bouncing on the springs. Did they used to crunch like that? Maybe. Maybe not. She feels her stomach slosh. Staring at the dim ceiling, she cradles the sides of her belly like cheeks and presses them into each other, creating a vertical roll of fat that lips gently over her thumbs. Then she lets go, disgusted with herself. The pillow swallows her swirling, heavy head, and she shuts her eyes against the darkness, feeling herself rise up to the peak of the parabola of her emotion until she finally falls back down to the ground of her heart, crying softly. . . .
  20. On average I'd say 20 pounds heavier than typical. Some skinny, but some definitely plump. People in the South are generally heavier, and I'd say the next generation of girls are too, so it adds up. Not sure if it's supply or demand driven, but the girls were popular. This was a club called Furnace.
  21. Here's a few more recent images I made on the Deviant Art AI generator, still learning prompt compostion as the AI never makes my "Big Red" character big enough (or at least make her belly big enough ha ha). Some imply a vore-like situation but you can easily ignore that aspect and look at the images and be ok. https://www.deviantart.com/realdvourer/art/AI-Happy-Mealtime-on-Vacation-1030469773https://www.deviantart.com/realdvourer/art/AI-Big-Red-is-the-Biggest-of-the-Bunch-1031503766 https://www.deviantart.com/realdvourer/art/AI-The-Last-Thing-You-ll-See-1031504171
  22. I need help. I filled out the form, read the conditions, uploaded the documentation correctly and entered my exact information, but when I press SEND nothing happens! The page simply refreshes and redirects me to the top of the form, and when I scroll down the page I see the data entered. I don't see any pop-up window, nor do I receive any email confirming that my form was sent, or waiting for a response. I don't know what's going on with the registry in general, or am I the only one experiencing it...??? . At the bottom of the "Contact curvage" page, I sent this same message but I still haven't received a response. Thanks for reading, I hope to solve this problem soon.
  23. Mochi's birthday🎉 and she was eating all day because of the invitations her boyfriend made her. When she got home her boyfriend had prepared a sweet and decadent feast for her, in this video Mochi faces the delicious challenge of eating an entire cake 🎂 by herself, she dives into that entire cake and lets herself be carried away by that sweet little pig. . ,🐽 who has been growing in it. Who needs to share when you have a cake to yourself? This feast is full of gluttonous pleasure, from the first moment he saw that cake, every bite was pure gluttony and pleasure, each piece of cake disappears between his lips, his face lights up with that satisfied smile, with each generous bite he takes . . her belly with her hands and it swells even more like a balloon, but she doesn't stop and the 2L soda perfectly accompanies her in this experience. Her boyfriend can't help but come in and give her bites of cake, massaging her belly and telling her that she has to finish it all, so get ready to witness this spectacle of unbridled gluttony with the first mochi cake with the voracity of a true glutton🐽🍰 Who said cakes had to be shared, especially on your own birthday?😈 This video has no cuts, it is 100% real❤️you can leave your review after downloading this file thank you for always supporting me 😘
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  24. Chapter 9 Elara was sweating in her sleep as she moved around panting. "Mother, no." Elara said in her sleep. Then she jolted awake, holding her chest. The girl shivered in the sheets scared to close her eyes again. Then she calmed herself down breathing in and out gasping. "Come on Elara, keep it together. For mother, and the kingdom," she said to herself. Later that morning, Elara had woken up again after getting some sleep. She sat over the edge of the bed, still not used to how her green legs dangled off the sides. At least compared to her ones that could touch the floor. She also sighed at her green starter belly peeking over her underwear. Compared to her elfish slender waist she was feeling quite embarrassed. Elara also noticed how much her butt was spreading on her mattress making her blush. Then she hopped off her bed as she felt her body jiggle slightly when landing. "Goddess, I'm getting plump. I need to cut back," Elara grimaced feeling her wide hips. Then she saw Isadora come in smiling. Elara was happy to see the witch as she always brightened her day. She also smirked seeing those tight pants of hers looking painted on lately. Isadora's pale ** belly peeking over her pants was cute as well. "Hey Elara, are you ready for our 1st day training?" Isadora smiled. "Yes, but don't expect too much from me. I'm not the skilled mage, I once was," Elara sighed. "Hey, its ok. I'm not that great either. Let's just do our best, ok," Isadora stated. "Alright." Later after a hardy breakfast the girls, sluggishly walked out to train. The ship had stopped for the day, next to a huge lake. Nellie smiled in her magic robe outfit. Elara guessed it was to look the part as teacher. Nellie's plump figure had filled it out a tad though as it looked tight against her midriff. Elara rubbed her belly and saw Isadora was doing the same, belching. "Are you 2 ready?" Nellie asked. "Just give me burp 5 minutes to rest," Isadora stated as she sat down. "We need some time to digest our breakfast," Elara blushed rubbing her stuffed green belly. "Oh, I see. Seems my food made you bloated. Then again, I'm full as well. Maybe after we digest a bit," Nellie giggled. After 10 minutes of rest, Nellie began guiding the girls. Elara tried to unleash a powerful fire spell, but only smoke and sparks came out. This discouraged Elara as she was frustrated with how weak she had become. "My, your fire spell didn't produce, well fire," Nellie sighed. "Yeah. I've gotten so pathetic," Elara sighed. "Then maybe we should focus on spells you know better first," Nellie stated. "Sure. Guess it's time to brush up on trap magic," Elara smiled. Then she saw Isadora trying to contain a water sphere of magic, but it was leaking. "Dam it. I can't hold this spell together," Isadora sighed as the water fell to the ground. "Crap, why do I suck at everything?" "You have great amounts of magic power; you just need to learn control. So, this training will help you master containing most spells. You just need to focus and keep trying," Nellie stated as she went to pat Isadora's head. She saw Nellie's hand about to touch her hair, feeling terrified. Isadora covered her head wincing. "Hey. I'm not going to hurt you," Nellie frowned. "Sorry. It's just whenever I failed to do spells properly, my mother would punish me. I disserved it though for not figuring it out," Isadora sighed. Then Isadora felt her head getting rubbed by Nellie. She looked up at the cowgirl with shock. "Nonsense. I would never do that to one of my students. I do things differently than your mother. Just keep doing your best. I don't expect the both of you to get it on the first try. This might even take weeks for you both to improve. It's fine with me," Nellie smiled. "Thank you," Isadora beamed relieved she wasn't going to get a beating with Elara smiling at how nice their teacher was. Soon the girls were working together to give each other advice. Then they started practicing with each other as Nellie beamed at how determined they were to improve. Then she saw Elara bend over to charge her magic again as she heard a ripping sound. Nellie covered her face seeing the goblin had a hole in her pants now. "Um, Nellie, I need bigger pants," Elara blushed. *** 3 weeks later Isadora got up feeling her belly bunch up into rolls feeling annoyed. She noticed her new larger underwear was faring well. Weeks ago, her bra had broken followed by her panties ripping between her butt cheeks. Her stretched underwear finally had it with her growing frame. She got up slowly grunting a bit as she rose to her feet. It was getting slightly harder to get up from her bed recently. It had just been 3 weeks and she had put on another 8 pounds. Now 164 pounds, Isadora was continuing her fattening journey with the girls. Whether she wanted to or not. It wasn't her fault completely though. Thanks to Sariel, there was more food at the table thanks to her contributions. She also started going around putting dishes of nuts or candy on the ship for the girls to snack on. By days end they would be empty or near finished. Sariel even went around buying snacks for the girls when she returned. Not to mention, telling Nellie to make milkshakes with all the extra dairy around. It's not like Isadora didn't take from those dishes or glut herself at the table either. She was just like the rest of them, a piggy. She just couldn't help herself. Her chubby ** belly was proof of that as it bulged over her panties. She picked up her pants she had gotten from Sariel months ago looking nervous. She got them over her plump, jiggling butt by tugging them a bit. Then she went to close her pants flabs, as they didn't meet. She grunted trying again for them too not even come close to fitting. Her hips had gotten too wide, her butt too big. Not to mention that ** belly getting in her way recently. Isadora blushed as she had outgrown another pair of pants. She pouted seeing Sariel staring at her from her bed smirking. "Seems another pair of pants, bites the dust," Sariel giggled. "Shut up demon. This is your fault for making this ship a fat trap. Everywhere I go, there's food," Isadora pouted as she took her pants off panting a bit. "Thats the point princess. I'm just doing my job, fattening my prey. I told you; your waist could be collateral damage. It's not my fault you're a greedy piggy like your mother," Sariel laughed poking the black-haired girl in her ** tummy. "Dam, you just had to be good at your job. It's like you know what everyone wants to eat." "I'm no expert like gluttony demons, but I'm learning. And I do know what everyone wants to eat. I've learned their favorite food. Meat for Mira, Elara likes potatoes. Then Yuki loves her beer. Nellie enjoys cheese, Nyrie craves bread and fruit. And you my piggy adore anything sweet. I can hear your belly calling for chocolate," Sariel giggled as Isadora's belly rumbled. "Very funny, as if you can hear what our bellies are saying," Isadora sighed. "But I can," Sariel smirked as she put her hand on the princess's belly, rubbing it tenderly. "Hey, what are you?" Isadora pouted. "Hungry, need food. So hungry. Feed me chocolate." "Holy shit, who was that?" Isadora yelped. "It was your belly. I'm allowing you to hear what its saying," Sariel smirked as Isadora looked down at her pudgy tummy. "Please feed me. I need to be filled. Need more," the belly demanded. "Quiet belly. I'll feed you in a second ok." "Every time you feed me well, I get hungrier. Need more, every time. Please, I want to be full. Need to grow bigger." "No, your shrinking back down soon. You got that," Isadora pouted. "But it feels so nice to be stuffed. Can you rub me later. it feels good." "And I'm done talking to you. What kind of power is that? Why am I having an argument with my belly? " Isadora blushed. "A gluttony demon's power. It's called belly whispering. I can hear what a belly needs," Sariel grinned. "Freaky. No wonder you're so good at feeding everyone." "Yes, and there's more powers for me to learn about in the art of gluttony, greed, and sloth. By the way, you might want to get the bigger pants out, I got for you last week. You've clearly outgrown your latest pair," Sariel giggled. "Yeah, I still think my growing waist is mainly your fault. By the way, aren't you worried that the other girls will start noticing, there getting fat. Alot of the girl's pants are starting to look tight lately. Not to mention their bellies are starting to peek out noticeably. How are you going to make them keep gaining the pounds, if they notice there getting fat?" Isadora wondered. "I already thought of that by studying my prey. Once they see, they're starting to get fat, their blame will be going towards Nellie since she makes the food. But no one wants to hurt her feelings. She doesn't like it when you don't eat her food as you know. So, they'll eat whatever she puts on the table without question to make her happy. Combined with their indulgent bellies wanting to be filled after struggling in the past, its perfect. They won't see a couple pounds as a big deal at first. By the time they do think it's a problem, it'll be too late. Their bellies will grow too big and out of control by then," Sariel giggled. "You feeding mastermind," Isadora pouted. "I try." After Isadora got on her bigger white blouse and black pants, she went to have breakfast. She saw the girls eating at the table already. Elara walked next to the chair, shorter than the legs as Mira helped her into the seat. She smiled ready to eat home fry potatoes, planting her larger butt into the chair. Isadora smirked seeing the goblin scarf down her potatoes despite vowing the lose weight after destroying her pants. The once slim goblin was now looking like a over ripe pear thanks to her addiction to potatoes. Her once flat belly was now a ** starter belly. The girl's butt was taking up a lot of room on her seat as it spread. Even her shorter legs were looking plush as she wiggled them in joy from eating her favorite treat. According to Sariel, she was up 25 pounds from the start. Isadora then saw Nellie was eating a lot as well filling her belly with cheesy eggs. The cowgirl was looking rather chubby now almost like the princess herself. Her pooch had grown into a ** belly now as it bulged in her lap slightly. Not to mention her huge breasts had gone up to G cup with a butt as large as Elara's. On her face, Isadora also noticed a slight double chin forming. Yuki was also starting to gain some weight. Her beer starter belly was a tad rounder hanging over her panties. Not to mention her curves and limbs were starting to soften as well. Seems the fox girl was softening up nicely as she ate bacon with her beer. Nyrie was starting to get a butt almost as large as Elara's. Her pooch was also growing into a starter belly now like the goblin's as well. Not to mention those thicker thighs proofing up over her bird like legs and feet. She saw the harpy unbutton her pants groaning as she let out a belch, eating pancakes. The harpy was going to fatten up like a plump turkey at this rate. Mira was changing the most though as her belly was now a lot more noticeable looking almost like a ** belly. Not to mention her breasts were looking like E cups now. Her butt was getting softer and bigger spreading in her chair. The once muscle toned girl was now looking plush as she dug into her sausage. The girls had all gained around 20 pounds from the looks of it, since Sariel began to fatten them up. Mira was a bit larger though at 28 pounds heavier. But like Sariel said, none of them brought it up. They all ate ravenously like nothing had changed. Even if some were adjusting their tighter pants around thicker midriffs. Sariel also mentioned they would get addicted to eating, and it looks like she wasn't wrong. One thing was for certain, their waistbands were getting tighter by the day, as Sariel's plan was starting to show results. After the girls stuffed themselves thoroughly, Yuki poked Isadora's belly. "My princess, your belly sure is getting big. To think you outgrew burp another pair of pants, piggy," Yuki grinned. "Yeah, sadly I'm getting fat," Isadora frowned. "Not as if you can talk burp Yuki," Nellie smirked patting Yuki's tight beer belly, making the kitsune blush. "You need to lay off the beer yourself. It's making your belly grow." "I'm just really bloated today is burp all. I'm not that big, besides, you're looking a bit thicker yourself cow," Yuki stated making Nellie embarrassed. "Come to think of it, my butt has been looking meatier. Mira, your belly looks very bloated too. We're not burp getting too fat are we," Nyrie blushed looking at her spreading butt cheeks in her chair. Then suddenly the button popped off on Mira's pants as it went flying. The dragoness blushed with everyone shocked as the blonde's pants flabs came undone with her bloated tummy sticking out more. "Oh dear. Maybe a bit, but I like having meals all the time as opposed to starving. I think a bit of extra weight isn't a big deal. We just have to make sure we don't get too big, like my old friends. By the way Nyrie, you need to do a repair job later," Mira blushed. "Got it, Mira," Nyrie said patting the dragon's back. "Maybe ease up on the food, Nellie. You're making too much," Yuki stated. "I'm sorry, my food made you fat? It's all my fault," Nellie frowned looking sad. "No, I didn't mean it like that. I love your food. Never burp mind. Forget it," Yuki sighed as everyone else stopped talking about their tightening waists. Isadora was shocked that everything had gone just like the succubus said it would. Nellie was the scape goat or scape cow in this case. Everyone loved Sariel and all she did was make them more money. No one came close to suspecting her. Isadora was impressed, how good Sariel was at her job indeed. Later Mira's pants were being repaired as the dragoness saw Nyrie grin, looking at her map. "Mira, were close to the underground city now," Nyrie grinned. "Good, I can't wait to see it after all this time," Mira smiled. *** Soon the door to the ship lowered after Terra stopped moving. Mira, and Sariel walked with the princesses towards the city. Elara beamed in excitement with Isadora as they laid eyes on the city. The huge cavern was vast with tons of room towering above them. They saw rubies, emeralds, and more gems all around the underground cave. It made the cavern glow different colors. Not to mention the huge buildings in the city were made from the different colored materials as well. As Elara waddled closer, she saw people up ahead. "Wait, are we allowed in, despite being monsters?" Elara asked. "Yes, we are. The dwarfs welcome anyone. There very down to earth people," Mira grinned. "Good, it's nice to go out in public for a change." Elara began seeing races of all kinds when they entered into the city, but mostly dwarfs. They were just a bit taller than her 3ft 2 in height, which was refreshing for a change. Another thing she noticed was how chubby or fat the dwarfs were. All of them had at least ** bellies that jiggled with their steps. If she wasn't green, she might fit in with these short people with her own belly jiggling. "Heh, Mira. Why are all the dwarfs, so rotund," Sariel wondered. "It's a part of their culture," Mira stated. "I didn't know some cultures were ok with being fat," Sariel smirked. "The world is a big place with many beliefs, you'd be surprised," Mira smirked as Sariel nodded. "Big indeed." Soon they passed a bridge going over a creak. The water had gems on the bottom making the water glow. The stream headed to a huge lake in the distance. Then they came to a house that was across the bridge. A dwarf with a brown beard was chopping wood as he saw them approach. He was wearing a brown coat with a white shirt on and short pants. He stopped what he was doing as he waddled over smiling. "Mira. It's so good to see you." "You as well. Girls, this is Throm, the mayor of the city. He also built my ship," Mira smiled as the dwarf hugged her thick midsection. "I see, you're eating good Mira. That a girl. You'll be attracting mates in no time," Throm laughed patting her belly. "I'm not good with that sort of stuff, you know that," Mira pouted. "I jest. Come, let's get some lunch in your bellies," Throm stated patting his large gut. Going inside the door they had to lower their heads crouching slightly as it was made for shorter statures. Elara felt right at home in this house. They saw 2 dwarf children running around as they hugged their father on sight. Then cooking in the kitchen was one of the largest girls Elara had ever seen. She had brown long hair framing a round face with multiple chins. The dwarf had huge breasts that were sagging under her yellow dress. Not to mention her huge apron belly proceeding her as she waddled towards the girls. She was so round in her figure, with her butt competing with her apron gut. Her supple hips almost looked as wide as the doorway in fact. The dwarf's arms and legs were also looking very ladened with fat. Every part of her jiggled with each of her steps that made thumping sounds. Even her hands and feet were plump. "This is my wife, Daisy. She's my jiggling cutie," Throm smiled kissing his wife as their bellies touched. "She's quite a looker," Sariel smirked. "Make yourselves at home. I made extra today for leftovers, but you can have some," Daisy smiled. Soon the girls were having lunch despite eating breakfast not long ago, but the food was too good to pass up as they got lost in the flavor. Elara noticed how much the dwarfs put away at the table. Not that she could talk. The goblin felt her belly start to feel full and heavy all over again. "This meat is wonderful, where did you get it?" Elara wondered. "It's deer. We go to the surface to hunt for food. There's plenty up there to keep us well fed. Not to mention all the ale we make. We have everything you need down here, like sugar, yeast, and water. We're always eating with a beer in hand it seems," Throm smiled. "That explains why you're all plump," Sariel giggled. "Sariel, thats rude," Mira pouted. "Ha, ha. It's ok Mira. We know how well rounded we are. It's in our culture. We take pride in our pudge. If your belly is always full, it's a sign of wealth and good fortune. I'll let you on a little secret. We find fat to be quite attractive," Throm smiled patting his wife's wobbling belly as she blushed. "You find fat to be sexy?" Isadora gasped. "Yes, indeed. My wife next to me used to be slightly chubby when we first started dating. That didn't last long though, after I spoiled her rotten. Now after 10 years of marriage, 2 kids and lots of meals, she's grown so big. It shows off her wealth and how pampered she is. Plus, its more to love on my round plush queen," Throm smiled kissing her belly this time as she blushed. "Thanks honey. My belly grew to be this big thanks to your care. You made me realize how nice it feels to stuff my belly, till it's close to bursting," Daisy grinned eating more meat. Isadora blushed at that last statement. She remembered Sariel telling the princess, she enjoyed eating as well. She wasn't wrong as at times deep down Isadora did feel good after stuffing herself. The princess sighed trying to focus on anything else. "I know in other cultures, its frowned upon to be fat. But to dwarfs it's the opposite. Thats why despite us being equals to humans and elves, were still considered odd balls. To each their own I guess." "Well, it isn't hurting anyone that you're into larger woman," Isadora smiled. "Yeah, maybe you girls should open your minds to it and try to gain some weight. Looks like some of you are already trying to get fat," Throm smirked poking Isadora's bloated tummy as she blushed. "I'm not fat," Isadora pouted. "Relax, ha, ha. That belly looks good on you, don't fret," Throm laughed. "No, it doesn't," Isadora sighed as Elara giggled. "Anyway, why did you come and visit me, Mira? You need some help with the ship?" Throm asked. "Yes, indeed. I need adjustments to go underwater for long periods of time," Mira explained. "Why's that?" Mira explained to Throm what they were planning to do. "I see. You're going to the dragon kingdom and avoid Adela's detection. Thats a dangerous journey. Are you sure the dragons will help? They still hate the elf's and humans after the war. Were lucky they've decided to remain dormant." Throm sighed. "I'm sure they'll give me their aid. Adela will surely become their problem too if they don't work with us now. Another war will break out as well," Mira frowned. "I'm sure. I can provide you with the parts you need. It's a shame you came at a bad time though," Throm sighed. "Is everything ok?" Mira asked. "We would have your ship ready in a week, but because of what happened recently, we need to start digging in a new place to get more materials to craft. It could take 2 months at least to craft them," Throm stated. "2 months. Seriously," Isadora sighed. "We can't stay in one place for too long. Adela's army is all over, looking for us. Anything we can do to help speed this along?" Mira wondered. "Well, the reason we have to start digging in a new place is because of what we uncovered recently. We were digging about a month ago to expand our territory. Then suddenly we reached an underground cavern. It was just under the earth with tons of space. We were very surprised it was there. It even had a lot of rare materials, including the ones you needed. No crafting needed. But then, as we went deeper into the cavern we started to smell a powerful source of magic." "Smell magic?" Elara stated. "Yes, there noses can pick up on magic easily and other smells," Mira explained. "We didn't just smell magic though, we smelled something, foul. Smelled like...dead corpses," Throm sighed as the 2 princesses began to get frightened. "So, we decided to block off the area and leave before we found what was down there. I actually asked Adela's soldiers to investigate. After closing up the entrance again, I waited for their signal to return. But they never did," Throm stated. "Seems like something's been in that cavern for years. Till you disturbed, whatever it is," Sariel said. "How about we check it out for you," Mira smiled. "Oh, no. I couldn't ask you to do that. You could disappear like those soldiers," Throm sighed. "I'll go down with some of my crew. Will be fine. At the same time. If there is something dangerous down, there. You can't just leave it there, hoping it won't bring harm to the city," Mira stated. "You make a good point. If you manage to do this, I'll repair your ship fast. I'll also pay you generously for helping. Thank you," Throm stated. "Not a problem. Alright, let me gather the crew and I'll go check it out. Elara and Isadora. I want you to stay behind. It might be too dangerous for the both of you." "Not a problem," Isadora shivered. "Actually, I was wondering if I could still go," Elara stated. "Elara, I know your slowly getting the hang of magic again, but this sounds very dangerous. Are you sure you want to tag along?" Mira wondered. "Yes, you've all taken care of me for the past few months. It's time I started paying you back," Elara smiled. "Hm, alright. I won't stop you if you're that determined," Mira smirked. "Might as well tag along Isadora, since I'm going. We can look after each other," Elara grinned. "Actually, that sounds like a great idea," Mira stated. "Do I...have to," Isadora sighed as she farted from her plush rear, getting nervous.
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