#protein-packed dessert

[justinterestingrecipes]

Texas Sheet Cake Recipe

Imagine this: it’s a warm Sunday afternoon, and you’re surrounded by friends and family, laughter filling the air. The scent of rich chocolate wafts from the kitchen, drawing everyone closer. As you slice into a decadent piece of Texas sheet cake, you’re met with moist, chocolatey goodness that melts in your mouth. But here’s the twist – this isn’t just any Texas sheet cake; it’s a guilt-free indulgence packed with protein and lower in sugar, yet still bursting with flavor. Intrigued? Let me take you on a journey to discover why our healthier Texas sheet cake recipe, featuring Nuts ‘N More High Protein Low Sugar Cocoa Hazelnut Spread & egg powder, is a must-try for any occasion.

[nvuy]

jiaoqiu.

i always think about jiaoqiu with his little worker partner. his little busy bee. his little sleep deprived mess that he loves so much.

the thing with jiaoqiu is that not only is this man the most fuzziest cuddle thing in the world—and during the colder months especially he becomes a ginormous soft blanket with how his tail instinctively curls over you—but he’s also your personal chef.

obviously, if you’re sick, he’ll see to your symptoms and take care of you himself.

but, even just for everyday meals. maybe your job is much more gruelling than his. maybe you start an hour before he does in the morning.

your alarm goes off every morning, and he wakes up with you. a lot of the time you fight in his hold, half because he’s so warm and it’s so cold outside and you’d much rather remain in bed and trace his twitchy ears all day with your thumb (and hope you can hear those gentle squeaky purrs you know he can make), and the other half because the sleep deprivation is really catching up to you.

even if he’s not a morning person, and he’s a little bit grouchy he prepares coffee, even if you insist he doesn’t have to.

“oh, don’t be silly,” he mumbles tiredly one morning into your hair. he’s still in his pyjamas while you’re almost fully dressed. “if i don’t cook for you, you won’t even eat all day.”

well. he’s not wrong.

he’ll make and pack you lunch to take to work every single day. usually, he’ll prepare meals depending on what you need; more protein, more iron, more fibre, whatever, whatever. he’ll mix in vitamins to help you as he sees fit.

he’ll also sneak snacks. he tries to avoid chocolate or sugary treats. and prefers to cut up some fruit, or sneak in a nut bar or something.

but sometimes when he knows you’re having a particularly rough week at work, he’ll give you something special. and he’ll prepare dessert after dinner. nothing major. he’s not really a baker, so it’s usually treats picked up from the bakery when he goes out to buy bread.

after you finally come into the kitchen in the morning to leave for work, you’re just as bone tired as he is while you’re putting on your shoes.

jiaoqiu comes over slowly and hands you three containers. there’s few words exchanged; you’re both way too exhausted. it’s six in the morning.

he’s wearing bunny slippers and they skid and slip across the floor as he then hands you coffee in a travel cup before he leans forward and presses a kiss to your hair.

you work harder. he knows. you work longer hours. your job is much more physically and mentally taxing. he loves his job. you… not so much.

he compensates by working hard at home for you. there’s always the smell of something cooking when you walk through the door. and though you insist you’ll clean the dishes, he always ends up taking over with a reassuring kiss to your head.

bedtime is his favourite. his absolute favourite. especially if he knows you have the day off tomorrow.

if he knows you’re in the mood, he’ll tease. just a little bit. fleeting whispers in your ear, and the soft brush of his tail against your thighs.

most nights, though, you’ll fall into his arms and he’ll bury his nose into the side of your neck.

he knows your sleep schedule is fucked to bits. that won’t deter him though. sneaking melatonin in food is easy, but for the most part, jiaoqiu ensures that the food he cooks for you everyday provides enough nutrients to get you through the day.

and hey!!!! bonus on your day offs in the morning!!!!! as a reward for being such a lovely little malewife, you retrieve the brush from the nightstand and slowly detangle the knots in his tail. and the kisses he peppers you in while his tail frantically wags side to side are always worth it.

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[kahvilahuhut]

food themed oc asks 🍅

food preferences tell a lot about us and the same can be said about our ocs. And so, here's a funny ask game.

GENERAL/MISC

🍎 What's your oc's favorite food(s)?

🍊 Your oc is brought to the fruits and veggies aisle of the grocery store. What do they pick?

🍌 If your oc would pick a yoghurt or something like it, would they rather 1) eat plain yoghurt 2) eat flavored yoghurt or 3) eat yoghurt with the fruit bits in it.

🥭 Does your oc drink juice? What's their favorite kind of juice? Do they mind the fruit pulp that can sometimes be found in these?

🥝 Does your oc have food restrictions? Is the reason related to health, culture, ethics, preferences or something else?

🫐 Would your oc eat something they found outside? (for example: berries, mushrooms, not eaten chocolate bar, stuff like that)

🍇 Does your oc prefer coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Do they prefer them hot or cold? What would their usual order in a cafe be?

🧄 How much spices does your oc use when cooking? Do they prefer bland taste or spicy/rich in flavor meals?

🍤 What's their opinion on seafood?

🧇 Do they enjoy baking? What's their favorite thing to bake? What's their favorite pastry to eat?

🍳 Do they enjoy cooking? What's their favorite thing to cook? Do they cook alone or with someone else?

🥖 What's their favorite kind of bread?

🫕 Do they like cheese?

🍾 Does your oc drink alcohol? What's their favorite drink(s) (can be alcoholic or non-alcoholic)? Would they know how to mix a cocktail?

🍟 What is your oc's opinion on fast food? How often do they buy it?

BREAKFAST

🥐 Your oc is given a chance to order a breakfast from cafe - what do they order? Would they actually do that?

🥯 What's their usual breakfast like? Do they eat breakfast, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would an ideal breakfast for them be?

🥚 What is your oc's preferred way to eat eggs? If your oc doesn't eat eggs, what do they think about scrambled tofu or the equivalent in their world?

🥓 At what time does your oc eat breakfast?

🥨 Brunch picnic time with friends/partner(s)/companions/[insert your ocs' close people here]! What is your oc bringing?

LUNCH

🥗 Your oc is now at a salad bar (a buffet-like place where you can do your own salad). What do they put in there? Do they add some kind of protein? Some sweet fruits? Some seeds or bread?

🥪 What kind of sandwiches does your oc like/would like to eat? If they could eat it for lunch, would they only eat it or something else, too?

🍣 What's your oc's typical lunch like? Do they usually eat lunch, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would their ideal lunch be like?

🥟 What's something your oc would love to eat for lunch almost every time?

🥙 They are having a lunch date. Which place do they pick and what are they ordering? Do they hurry or would they rather be late from whatever happens after lunch?

DINNER

🧆 Would they rather eat a stuffing lunch and light dinner or vice versa? Why?

🍚 They have been invited for a dinner by someone close to them! Where are they going, what are they ordering, what are they drinking and what do they talk about?

🍛 What's your oc's typical dinner like? Do they usually eat dinner, and if so, how regularly? Do they eat alone or with someone else? What would their ideal dinner be?

🍜 Do they love cooking dinner or would they rather eat somewhere else or order takeout?

🥘 Does your oc prefer a quick, calm dinner or would they rather have a very long one?

SNACKS & CO.

🍩 What is their favorite dessert? Do they get it often? What is their go-to dessert?

🥕 They are packing some snacks because they're going to be away from home for a while. What do they take with them? What's their opinion on trail mix?

🍒 How often do they eat berries and other kinds of veggies?

🥞 Your oc is ordering food from a fast food chain. They can also pick something else than the main meals. What do they buy?

🍦 Your oc wakes up at night, feeling hungry. Do they go eat? If yes, what will they eat?

🫖 Does your oc eat anything between dinner and going to sleep? How often?

☕️ Does your oc eat anything between lunch and dinner? How often?

[cwritesforfun]

The Bear: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x Fem!Reader: Crush

You work at the Bear as the hostess when Sugar needs help and you're close with Carmy, Sydney, and Marcus. You like everyone else, but you're just closest with those three. Richard keeps trying to force you and Carmy to be alone together, so he annoys you right now. (YES, the plot has changed.)

Y/N = Your Name

Your POV

You open your phone bright and early to see a text from Carmy: Call me if you get this before 5:30 or before you leave. You click the call button next to his number and wait for him to answer.

****Start of conversation Y/N - Hey Chef... what's up? Carmy - Richard said you live near me. Could you drive me to work? Y/N - Yeah, uh can you send me your address? I just finished breakfast and I just need to get my shoes on. Carmy - Yeah, okay I sent it. Y/N - You're only a 5 minute drive from me. I'll be there soon. I'll text you when I leave. Carmy - Thanks Y/N... Thanks, Chef. End of conversation****

You wait in your car for Carmy and see him exit his building. He climbs into your car and you let him buckle his seatbelt before driving off.

As you drive, Carmy says, "So... uh my car... it uh broke down yesterday. Richard doesn't have his license and he didn't want to risk driving me to work. I think he just didn't want to drive me because he drives me around all the time. He told me you lived closer to me than he did. So I called you. Thanks for ... thanks for driving me." You exclaim, "It's totally okay. I don't mind. I like getting to work early and you live very close, so this works out for us both. Do you need a ride back to your place after work too?" He answers, "Yeah if you don't mind." You reply, "No, I don't. I can drive you until you get your car fixed. It's cool. Do you want a homemade protein bar?" He answers, "Sure... I guess." You reply, "You can say no, I don't care. It's the only way I can survive working these shifts. It has peanut butter, maple syrup, protein powder, oats, and that's it. They're delicious and they fuel you until the next meal." He replies, "I'll try one, then. If you care about it this much and you made them, they have to be good." You keep driving and you hear Carmy say, "Fuck, these are good. I could eat a whole tray." You reply, "Thanks."

We park, you hand out the rest of the protein bars to the rest of the staff, and you help set up and clean the dining area once more. You then help Marcus with desserts. You used to always say that dessert was your favorite meal, but now it's tied with dinner. Pasta and garlic bread together could kill you, but you'd be okay with it because you'd die happy. Making desserts brings you so much joy because there's something so amazing about the process of picking the right amount of ingredients to decorating them before customers eat them.

Your shift starts and it's packed. It's Saturday and there are tons of people hustling in. You even fill the bar with walk-ins. Richard runs the dining room with ease and you can tell he's at home here. At a quiet moment, he slides behind the hostess stand next to you and asks, "So, how was the ride this morning?" You answer, "Carmy and I talked. He liked the protein bars I made. It was good. He thinks you had an ulterior motive for not driving him." He smirks and replies, "I did. I want one of you to cut that sexual tension and confess your feelings." You laugh and say, "He's my boss and I like this job." He replies, "We both know you're just passing time here because you love the people. You make way more at your weekday job. You could easily quit working here and date him." You reply, "I could. I don't know. I am not quitting." You hear, "What's this about quitting?" You see Carmy standing there looking between the both of you. Richard says, "I was just telling dear sweet Y/N that she could quit working here. She makes more during the week. She doesn't need to overwork herself." Carmy turns to you and asks, "Are you overworking yourself?" You answer, "No I'm not. Thanks for your concern." Carmy says, "Yeah no problem. It's time for your 15-minute break and I was wondering if you wanted to take it with me. Richard can handle it out here." You answer, "Sure, yeah. Richard can handle it." Richard says, "I hate you when you two gang up on me. Just date already and make me happy." Carmy and I both shove Richard who says, "That was scarily in sync."

Outside, you eat a donut that was messed up by Marcus and Carmy smokes by your side. Carmy exclaims, "I know you don't have to come in on weekends and you shouldn't feel obligated because Sugar asked you to. I don't want you to overwork yourself and not have time for yourself because it's important to care for yourself. I don't want you to not be okay. I just... I care about you." You reply, "I care about you too and don't want you to overwork yourself either. You work as much as me, Carmy. I don't feel obligated to work because of Sugar or anyone else. I like working at the Bear because I love the people here. I have Sunday off every week and usually I get to work from home at least 2 days a week, so the work week feels less stressful. I will let you know if I ever need a break." He nods and says, "Good good. I want you to be able to come to me if you ever need anything." You reply, "Same to you. I'm here if you ever need anything too. Speaking of, I'm making dinner for Marcus, Sydney, and I tonight after work? Do you want to come over too?" He asks, "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to mess up your plans together." You answer, "It's all good. We just eat, drink, and either play games or watch tv. It's really chill and nice." He replies, "Ok, as long as you let me help cook." I reply, "Sounds good. I could always use the help."

When you told Sydney and Marcus that Carmy was joining for dinner, they were so happy. They also want you to tell Carmy that you like him. Why does everyone want you to? chill...

Carmy gets in your car after work and says, "Sorry that you had to wait. I had to make sure things were all set for tomorrow morning." You reply, "It's okay. Do you need anything from your apartment before we go to my place? I can stop." He answers, "Yeah I do, thank you."

You drive to his apartment and wait for him in the car. He tells you that he is going to take a 5-minute shower and then he'll be down.

You drive to your apartment when Carmy gets back and park in your spot in the garage. Carmy asks, "Do you have to walk in this garage every night?" You answer, "Yeah, why?" He answers, "I just want you to be careful." You reply, "Awww you're very caring today. It's sweet." He replies, "I don't think anyone's ever said I was sweet unless it was as a joke." You reply, "Carmen Berzatto, you're genuinely one of the kindest people I know. You go out of your way and show people you care about them despite all you've been through. You always make me feel cared for and understood. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He replies, "Thank you." You reach over, squeeze his hand, and say, "I meant every word." He squeezes your hand back and smiles.

After getting to your apartment, you give Carmy a quick tour of the place. You have a 2-bedroom apartment with your best friend from college who is visiting her boyfriend out of town for the week. It's small, but it's yours and it's great.

You put music on your speaker then head to the kitchen. Carmy asks, "What can I do to help?" You answer, "I'm making chicken, fried rice, and stir-fry vegetables. It's essentially just chicken fried rice. I made dessert last night too that I can break out later. Do you want to help chop vegetables?" Carmy answers, "Yes Chef. It sounds like it will be a good meal, have you made it before?" You hand him vegetables and say, "Yeah it's one of my favorite things to make for people. Marcus requests it at least once a month and Sydney requested the dessert." He takes the vegetables as you set out knives on a chopping board for him to start cutting stuff. You have just enough time to start the rice when you hear the doorbell ring.

Sydney and Marcus walk in. Sydney says, "I present you with tonight's wine and beer of choice. We got dry Riseling wine and Pilsner beer to pair with our dinner. Then, we brought vodka for the dessert cocktail." You cheer and say, "I'm so excited. This'll be great." You go back to prepping the meal to see that Carmy is working fast. You should've known he'd be quick. He's a chef for a living. Sydney asks, "Y/N, do you want a glass of wine or a beer as you cook?" You answer, "Beer please." Sydney asks, "What about you, Carmy?" Carmy answers, "Yeah, I'll take a beer, sure."

Sydney and Marcus stand by talking to you and Carmy as you cook. The cooking time flies by and it's time to eat. You put the dessert in the center of the table for after dinner. You made red velvet brownies.

At the dinner table after everyone is served, Marcus exclaims, "And today, we thank the world for bringing Y/N to the Bear. Without her, I wouldn't have a dessert buddy or this chicken fried rice." You laugh and Sydney says, "I can't wait for dessert. I'm gonna need the rest to-go. Don't eat too much boys." Carmy asks, "Why aren't you a chef? This is fucking delicious." Sydney says, "Woah there Carmy. Save some compliments for the rest of us, buddy." You laugh and say, "Thank you all for the kind words. I have some already packed to-go for you, Sydney." Sydney replies, "And this is why I love you!"

Soon enough, the beer and wine are finished. And the cocktails begin... they work tomorrow, which is wild how much they're consuming. We're sitting on the couch now. Carmy is next to you and his arm has been wrapped around your shoulder for most of the night. You don't mind at all, but will he regret it? I guess it's not a kiss.

After you all watch a movie, Marcus announces to everyone he needs sleep. Carmy seems confused when Marcus pulls out a blow-up mattress and starts to inflate it. Oh, guess you forgot to tell him that they usually spend the night. You should never drink and drive, so Marcus brings an air mattress. Sydney sleeps on the couch. You make breakfast for them or have something prepped to take on-the-go for them in the morning depending on how much you drink.

You exclaim, "Carmy, uh... could you help me carry the stuff on the table into the kitchen?" Carmy nods and he helps you bring stuff to the kitchen before he asks, "Why are Marcus and Sydney getting ready for bed here?" You answer, "Right, yeah I forgot to tell you that. They spend the night if they drink a lot or if one of them isn't the designated driver. I even make them breakfast in the mornings too. I just want them to be taken care of and safe. You're welcome to stay the night too...or I can call you a cab. The only place is in my bed if you're okay sharing." He asks, "Only if it's okay with you? I don't think I would make it back to my place honestly." You answer, "It's all good. There are extra toothbrushes and stuff in the bathroom closet that you can use." He replies, "Yeah I'll go get ready for bed then. Will you be coming to bed soon?" You reply, "Yes, I just want to make sure both of them are all good before I go to sleep." He nods and walks off.

You go to make sure that Marcus and Sydney are taken care of. Sydney pulls you to her and says, "OMG! So are you and Carmy like dating or something?" You ask, "Why would you think that?" She answers, "Dude, he had his arm around you, he was positive, and he complimented you. If you're not having sex to make him happy, I'm seriously questioning his mental state." You reply, "I feel like that's rude to say. He is allowed to be happy." Marcus replies, "And you are too, you know? With or without him, we support you." You reply, "That's so sweet, Marcus. Thank you both. Now, what do you guys want for breakfast? I have stuff for burritos, pancakes, or overnight oatmeal." Sydney says, "We want burritos. I can guarantee you that is what Marcus wants." Marcus laughs and nods. You talk with them a bit more before you lay out some stuff for breakfast then head to your room. You need to shower so badly...you stink so much from work.

Carmy is staring at your bed when you walk in. You laugh and say, "The bed won't bite, Carmy. You can take either side. I sleep on the side where that book is if you don't want to take my side. I'm going to shower, but I'll be back soon. Feel free to read any of the books or look at anything. I trust you and I don't care." He nods and you go to the bathroom. You then throw on your matching set of pajamas. You leave the bathroom to see Carmy looking at your book and photo collection. You ask, "See anything you like?" Carmy answers, "Yeah actually I'm really impressed with your photos. Did you take all of them? And have you read all of these books?" You laugh, stand next to him, and answer, "I have read the top two shelves. That cart is books I need to read still. The photos are all mine, except the ones I'm in. Those were mostly taken by family members. I can always take more of the Bear if you guys ever need any promotional content." He replies, "Thanks, I might just take you up on it. Your bed is comfy by the way. I uh... I didn't know how comfortable you were with me sleeping there so I waited for you." You sit on your bed and pat the space next to you. He walks over and gently sits next to you. You say, "See, that's not so bad. And, I don't care that we're going to share this bed. I feel safe around you and I trust you. It's all good." He asks, "Why do you always compliment me? I mean, everyone at work hates me during work hours because of how much I scream and the standards I hold people to. But you... you just see the light in me." He looks so broken. It's truly sad he doesn't see what you see. You put your hand on his shoulder gently and say, "Because of what I see in you, Carmy. I see someone so kind and safe and trusting and hard-working. Yes you can scream, but we all can and that's the way of the kitchen. You do apologize when you're in the wrong and that's what counts. The standards you set are the reason that the Bear has such delicious food and has a steady influx of customers. You wanted this place to be successful and you had a dream. People just need to see what you see and once they know the standard, it's golden. So yes, I will compliment you when I want to." He puts his hand on the one on his shoulder and says, "You're so perfect... listen, I heard you all talking in the living room. If everyone thinks we're already dating, why don't we give it a try?" You answer, "Sure, when we're both free next, we can go on a date." He asks, "What would you say if I took off tomorrow and we just spent it together?" You ask, "You are going to take off tomorrow. I don't believe that for one second." He smirks and replies, "Richard and Sydney can handle it. I have a date I need to go on." You smile and say, “If you take off, I will gladly go on a date with you tomorrow. And if you don’t take off work tomorrow, I’m free after 5 every night this week and I’m off on Sundays every week.” He replies, “I’ll call Richard right now. Here we go. I’ll even put him on speaker phone so he behaves.”

You laugh.

**** Start of conversation Richard - Is something wrong, Carmy? You never call me this late. Carmy - Everything is fine. Look, I’m with Y/N right now. Richard - Define with. Are you dating her now? Why are you at her house late? Did you get laid? Give me more. Y/N - Chill, Richard. Richard - Oh hi … wow Carmy wasn’t lying that you were there. Carmy - I’m at her place, moron. Now listen, I’m taking off work tomorrow all day so I can go on a date with Y/N and spend the day with her. Richard - Holy shit you’re not coming to work! Y/N really has changed you. This is blowing my mind right now. I should’ve bought a lotto ticket tonight. Damn it. Carmy - Cousin, shut up. Tell me, can you handle tomorrow? Richard - Yes I can. The staff and I can. I know how everything runs and I will call you after closing to tell you how it goes to make you happy. Although you will probably be getting laid, so you’ll already be happy. Y/N - Please shut up. Carmy - Yeah Cousin, there is a lady present. Bye and thank you. Richard - Use protection kids. End of conversation ****

After hanging up the phone, you ask, “How does it feel? You’re going to get to sleep in and you’re going on a date tomorrow.” Carmy answers, “Honestly, I’m excited. This might be the best day of this year for me.” You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. He cuddles close to you and says, “I wasn’t really nervous about sharing a bed with you … I was nervous about telling you my feelings and then you rejecting me or just wanting to be friends. I've been overthinking how I should tell you my feelings and when. Richard has also been pushing me about it and I knew deep down that he was right.” I laugh and say, "Don't let him hear you say that. I do have to get up to make breakfast for Sydney and Marcus in the morning, but I will go back to bed after." He says, "Wait one second, I'll be right back." He slides out from under me and walks out my room. OK?? What??

Carmy returns looking confused and weirded out. I ask, "Where did you go? You have a weird face right now." He gets in bed, opens his arms for me, and says, "They were just drunk and were happy that I asked you out. I forget how honest people are when they are drunk. It was weird. I just went to ask them if it was okay that you didn't make them breakfast because I wanted you to have sleep and to sleep in with me. I hope that's okay. I just heard you talk with Richard about how you don't want to overwork yourself and I want you to have rest for the week." I kiss him on the cheek and say, "You're so sweet. I'm not mad. I'm very glad you were looking out for me."

PART TWO

[mehbles]

Carlos

Chapter 1

Carlos had always been lean and fit. As a personal trainer, his physique was his pride—a testament to the dedication and hard work he put into his own training and his career. Every day, he maintained a strict diet, one that sculpted his body into the perfect athletic frame, and his clients often looked up to him as an example of health and discipline. But deep down, Carlos felt a curiosity stirring, one he had tried to ignore for years.

He’d heard about the gaining community—people who, instead of striving for lean muscle, embraced a different path. They aimed to bulk up, building both muscle and fat, embracing a larger, more powerful look. It was the complete opposite of what Carlos had always stood for, but the idea intrigued him. He wanted to know what it would feel like to let go of his tight dietary restrictions, to see his body transform in a way he had never allowed before.

It started as a quiet experiment. Carlos began by increasing his calories slightly—adding an extra protein shake here, a bigger serving of rice there. He continued to train hard, lifting heavy weights to maintain his muscle mass, but he noticed the changes almost immediately. His body began to fill out. His muscles became thicker, but so did his midsection. His abs, once so defined, began to soften as the weeks went by.

Despite the initial unease, he couldn’t deny the thrill that came with seeing himself grow. He felt stronger, bigger, and more powerful in ways he had never imagined. The people around him began to notice too, complimenting his new size. He found himself spending more time with other gainers, learning their techniques, their diets, and their outlook on body positivity and embracing mass.

Carlos’ diet evolved. No longer was he focused on low-carb, lean protein meals. Instead, he welcomed foods he’d once avoided—burgers, pizza, pasta, and all the desserts he could get his hands on. The new approach was liberating; each meal became an event, an opportunity to push his boundaries and expand his capacity. His appetite grew alongside his body, and what once seemed like a guilty pleasure turned into a daily ritual of indulgence.

Months passed, and Carlos’ transformation became impossible to ignore. His once-defined jawline softened, replaced by a thicker, more rounded look. His chest, still muscular, now sat atop a growing belly, which protruded slightly over the waistband of his tight swim trunks. He’d outgrown his old wardrobe, trading his fitted shirts for looser tees, though even they began to cling tightly as he filled out.

One day, as he stood poolside, he looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the bulk he had worked so hard for. His thighs were now powerful and thick, his arms massive with layers of both muscle and fat. The lean, athletic man he had once been was gone, replaced by a gainer who wore his size with pride. His stomach, round and firm, was a testament to the hundreds of extra calories he consumed each day. He flexed, feeling the weight and the power behind his new frame, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Carlos had embraced a new identity—one where he was no longer defined by society’s standards of fitness, but by his own desire for growth. He knew the journey wasn’t over; there was still more room to grow, more muscle and mass to pack on. He was excited to see just how far he could push himself, how much more his body could take.

For Carlos, the lean physique was a chapter of his past. The new Carlos was a gainer, embracing his size, and with every pound gained, he felt more alive than ever.

Chapter 2

Carlos stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. It was quiet, and he was alone, giving him a moment to fully take in the transformation he had undergone over the past few months. His once tight, defined abs were long gone, replaced by a soft, jiggly belly that spilled slightly over the waistband of his shorts. He placed both hands on it, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his fingertips, and gave it a gentle shake.

It jiggled with the motion, wobbling slightly as he watched it bounce. There was something mesmerizing about the way it moved, how it responded to his touch, the way it filled his hands with a comforting softness he had never experienced before. He ran his hand down the curve of his belly, feeling the slight stretch marks forming on the sides, a sign of his rapid gain. His fingers lingered there, tracing the lines with a sense of pride rather than shame.

Carlos leaned closer to the mirror, lifting his belly slightly and letting it drop, enjoying the way it rippled and swayed before settling back into place. The sight sent a thrill through him. This softness, this jiggle—it was proof of his journey, a badge of honor marking the path he had chosen. He wasn’t lean or shredded anymore, but that no longer mattered to him. What mattered was the way he felt, the satisfaction of seeing his body fill out beyond its former limits.

He pushed out his belly, letting it hang fully, giving himself a side profile view. It was round and prominent, with a slight crease where it folded naturally above his waistband. It wobbled with every movement he made, a constant reminder of his new size. Carlos loved the feeling of weight and the way his belly rested against his thighs when he sat down. It was a sensation he had never allowed himself to experience before, and now, he found it intoxicating.

As he continued to admire himself, he gave his belly another playful shake, smiling as it jiggled in response. He couldn’t help but laugh, a deep, satisfied sound that echoed in the room. This body, soft and jiggly, was something he had worked hard to create. It represented freedom, indulgence, and the satisfaction of letting go of the rigid rules that had once dominated his life.

With one last pat, he pulled his shorts back up, feeling the waistband snug around his soft middle. Carlos knew he was only at the beginning of his gaining journey, and the idea of growing even bigger, of feeling his belly expand and jiggle even more, filled him with excitement. For now, though, he was content to enjoy this new softness, to admire the way his belly moved, and to embrace the man he had become.

Chapter 3

Carlos stepped into the gym, feeling the familiar scent of rubber mats and the hum of treadmills in the air. It had been a while since he’d been here. These days, his focus was more on heavy lifting and bulking meals than on cardio, but today, he decided to test just how much his body had changed since he’d embarked on his gaining journey. He figured a quick jog on the treadmill wouldn’t hurt—just to see if he could still keep up.

He approached the machine, noticing how different his body felt with each step. His thighs, once lean and muscular, now rubbed together, and his belly bounced slightly with each movement. It was an odd sensation, one that both excited and amused him. Climbing onto the treadmill, he adjusted his shorts, which had become snug around his thicker waist and thighs, and set the machine to a slow jog.

As the treadmill began to move, Carlos felt the unfamiliar weight of his belly tugging downward. It jiggled and bounced with every step, a heavy, soft mass that made it difficult to maintain his balance. Within seconds, he was reminded that his body was no longer the lean, agile machine it used to be. Instead, he was carrying a lot more weight—and his belly made sure he knew it. He picked up the pace, feeling the soft roll of his belly slap gently against his thighs with each stride.

He tried to push himself, speeding up the treadmill to a moderate pace, but his body protested. His belly, now fully jiggling with every step, felt like an anchor pulling him down. His chest, thicker than before, bounced with each stride, and he felt the jiggle extend down to his thighs, which wobbled as they worked to keep up with the machine’s speed.

He quickly became breathless, his lungs burning as he fought to maintain the rhythm. Sweat formed on his brow, and his hands gripped the treadmill’s rails tightly. His belly swung with every step, wobbling and bouncing more than he ever imagined it would. Each movement made him feel the sheer size and softness of it. It was almost surreal to think how far he had come from his days of having tight abs that never moved. Now, every part of him jiggled with effort.

After a few minutes, Carlos felt the exhaustion building. His legs were tired, his arms heavy, and his soft belly was bouncing so intensely it was becoming almost comical. He slowed the machine down, eventually bringing it to a walking pace. His hands rested on his belly as he caught his breath, feeling the warm softness beneath his fingers. It heaved up and down, his breathing heavy as he laughed at himself.

“Well, I guess sprinting’s not for me anymore,” he muttered with a grin, giving his jiggly middle an affectionate pat. The treadmill may have been a challenge, but it was also a reminder of how far he had come—and how much he had changed.

Carlos stepped off the treadmill, wiping the sweat from his brow. Despite the struggle, he felt a strange sense of pride. His body had grown, and it was heavier, softer, and jiggly—just like he wanted. He knew there were limits now, that running might no longer be in his repertoire, but he didn’t care. He had gained size, and with that, a new sense of freedom and enjoyment.

With a final pat to his belly, he turned away from the treadmill, ready to head to the weight room. After all, there were still plenty of gains to make, and he was excited to see how much bigger he could grow.

Chapter 4

Carlos had been pushing his limits for months, and it showed. Every meal had become a mission—calories piled high, with double helpings, desserts, and everything in between. His once-athletic frame had morphed into something far bulkier and softer, and he loved every moment of it. His belly, now a prominent round mound, jiggled with each step, a testament to his dedication to gaining as much mass as possible.

On a warm summer day, Carlos decided to take a dip in his pool. He pulled out his favorite pair of swim shorts—black and snug, but still stretchy enough to contain his growing body. They were already feeling tight the last time he wore them, but today, as he struggled to pull them up past his thick thighs and over his belly, he realized just how much bigger he had become. The fabric stretched to its limit, hugging his massive thighs and squeezing tightly around his waist, creating a small fold where his belly hung over the waistband.

He stood in front of the mirror, admiring the way his belly pushed out against the taut fabric, the swim shorts barely containing him. His chest, broader and thicker than ever, jiggled as he flexed, and his thighs, now thick and solid, rubbed together as he moved. He felt immense, powerful, and undeniably bulky. The shorts, though strained, still managed to cling on, and Carlos figured they’d make it through a quick swim.

Carlos headed outside, feeling the warmth of the sun on his skin. As he stood by the edge of the pool, he couldn’t resist giving his belly a playful shake, feeling the way it bounced and jiggled freely. It was a feeling he had grown to love—being big, soft, and round. He bent down, testing the water, and felt the shorts pull even tighter across his backside and thighs. He grinned, knowing he was pushing their limits.

With a deep breath, he leapt into the pool, the cool water rushing over his body. For a moment, he felt weightless, his bulk suspended in the water. But as he surfaced, he felt a sudden, sharp tension. The swim shorts, stretched beyond their capacity, had caught on the edge of the pool as he resurfaced. Carlos heard a loud, unmistakable rip.

He glanced down, eyes widening as he saw the split running right up the side of his shorts. The fabric, unable to handle his size, had torn open, exposing the sides of his thick thighs and part of his belly. He tried to pull the fabric together, but as he moved, the rip only grew bigger, splitting even further until the entire seam gave way.

Carlos laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed off the water. He watched as the remains of his swim shorts floated up around him, torn beyond repair. His belly, now freed from the tight constraints, bobbed up and down in the water, jiggling with every laugh. The cool sensation of the water against his skin felt liberating.

“Guess I really outgrew those,” he muttered to himself, patting his belly as he floated there, grinning. It was a moment of triumph, a clear sign of how far he had come in his journey. The man who once fit into those shorts with ease was long gone, replaced by a bigger, bulkier version of himself—one who filled out every inch of fabric he wore until it couldn’t hold him anymore.

Carlos climbed out of the pool, dripping wet and entirely unbothered by the fact that he was now practically naked. He stood proudly, water streaming down his thick, bulky frame. His belly hung heavily over his waistband, jiggling slightly as he adjusted his stance. He admired his reflection in the pool’s surface, his body now a massive, soft version of the lean man he once was.

With a grin, he tossed the torn shorts aside, patting his belly again. “Looks like it’s time for an upgrade,” he said, fully embracing the size and softness he had worked so hard to gain. For Carlos, this was just another milestone—a sign that there was still more room to grow, and he was more than ready for it.

Chapter 5

Carlos walked into the gym, his bulky frame commanding attention as he moved through the space. His stringer tank top clung to his body, the fabric struggling to stretch across his broad chest and thick shoulders. The straps barely covered his torso, exposing the heavy, round belly that now hung in front of him, resting comfortably over the waistband of his gym shorts. Every step he took caused his belly to bounce slightly, and the sides of his tank revealed the soft rolls forming beneath his pecs—evidence of his transformation from lean athlete to bulky powerhouse.

He’d always enjoyed working out, but now, he found a new thrill in the way his body responded to the weightlifting. It wasn’t just about gaining strength anymore; it was about feeling his body expand with every lift, watching his pecs swell and his belly grow softer and rounder. The once-fit trainer had fully embraced his size, and it was clear he was proud of it.

Carlos walked over to the squat rack, grabbing a barbell and loading it with heavy plates. His friends, who had seen him progress from shredded to bulky, were there to cheer him on. They couldn’t help but admire the way he’d grown. “Damn, Carlos, you’ve really packed on the mass,” one of them said with a grin, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, man,” another added, nodding approvingly. “That belly’s getting huge. You’re looking strong.”

Carlos smirked, his hands gripping the bar as he positioned himself under the weight. “I’ve been working hard for this,” he replied, his voice full of pride. He adjusted his stance, feeling the cool metal against his shoulders as he glanced at his friends in the mirror. “It’s all part of the plan.”

As he began to lift, his belly pressed against his thighs, and his pecs jiggled with the movement. The tank top, which barely covered his expanding frame, rose up slightly, revealing more of his thick, side rolls. Each squat sent a wave through his belly, causing it to wobble and jiggle freely. His friends watched, impressed by the sheer size he’d put on. It was one thing to gain muscle, but Carlos had gone beyond that—he had embraced every pound, and it showed.

“Look at that belly move!” one of his friends called out, laughing. “Man, you’re huge. And those side rolls? No hiding them in that tank top.”

Carlos grinned, standing back up with the barbell before lowering it back into the rack. He was breathing heavily, the effort showing on his face, but he felt strong, solid, and undeniably bulky. He looked down, giving his belly a playful shake, feeling the way it jiggled beneath his fingers. His friends crowded around him, patting his belly and pecs, squeezing the soft fat that had accumulated there.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” one of them asked, giving his side roll a light squeeze. “To just let go and grow.”

Carlos nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah, it really does. Never thought I’d enjoy it this much, but honestly, this feels amazing.” He flexed his arms, his biceps pushing against the tight straps of the tank top, while his belly spilled out even further.

The group continued their workout, but all eyes remained on Carlos. Whether he was bench pressing with his pecs bouncing above his thick belly or curling weights with his arms straining against the softness at his sides, he was the center of attention. His friends, once his training partners and fellow fitness enthusiasts, were now his biggest fans, admiring the way he had committed fully to his gaining journey.

After finishing a set of bench presses, Carlos sat up, his belly spreading out as he leaned forward. He wiped the sweat from his brow, noticing how the stringer tank top had ridden up, revealing his soft, jiggly midsection in full. His friends gave him thumbs up and encouraging slaps on the back.

“Carlos, you’re a beast now, man,” one said, shaking his head with a grin. “You’ve got the size and the strength. Plus, that belly? It suits you.”

Carlos chuckled, patting his round middle, feeling the soft fat bounce beneath his hand. “I appreciate it. I’m just getting started, though. There’s a lot more to grow.”

His friends laughed and nodded, admiring the massive bulk he had become. For Carlos, every pound, every jiggle, and every compliment was fuel. As he adjusted his tank top, which now barely held his chest and belly in place, he felt proud of how far he’d come. There was no turning back; the lean athlete was gone, and the bulked-up, soft, and jiggly Carlos was here to stay—and he couldn’t wait to see just how much bigger he could get.

Chapter 6

Carlos stood in front of the bathroom mirror, his massive frame reflected back at him. His belly, round and soft, hung heavily over the waistband of his shorts, and his pecs jiggled slightly as he adjusted his stance. It had been a while since he’d checked his weight. The thought crossed his mind now and then, but he had avoided the scale, preferring to focus on how he felt and how his body looked. But today, curiosity got the better of him.

He took a deep breath, stepping onto the scale with a sense of anticipation. The numbers flickered for a moment before settling, and when they finally displayed, his eyes widened in disbelief.

“310 pounds.”

Carlos stared at the number, feeling the shock wash over him. The last time he had checked his weight, he was hovering around 250 pounds, already a big leap from the lean 190 he had maintained for years. But 310? He hadn’t realized just how much he had grown. He felt the weight of that number settle in, both literally and figuratively, as he looked down at his belly, now fully understanding why it jiggled and bounced so much more than it used to.

He gave his belly an experimental poke, feeling the soft fat beneath his fingers. “310 pounds, huh?” he muttered, a grin slowly forming on his face. His initial shock transformed into a sense of pride. Every single pound he’d gained was a result of his hard work—of countless meals, hours at the gym, and the commitment to embrace his size. And now, the number staring back at him was proof of that dedication.

Carlos shifted his weight, watching as the scale wavered slightly but remained firmly at 310. He stepped off and gave himself a full look in the mirror, admiring the way his belly jutted out, round and full, and the way his pecs sat heavily on his chest. His love handles curved out to the sides, creating a soft, thick silhouette that filled out his shorts and tank top completely.

He ran a hand down the side of his body, feeling the rolls that had formed there—each one a symbol of his transformation. His thighs, thick and powerful, rubbed together as he moved, and his arms were now surrounded by layers of softness that complemented the muscle underneath. Everything about him was bigger, softer, and bulkier than it had ever been.

“310,” he repeated, shaking his head with a chuckle. “Man, I’ve really outdone myself.”

Carlos felt a surge of excitement. He had never imagined he’d see this number on the scale, but now that he had, it only motivated him to go further. If he could hit 310 pounds, who was to say he couldn’t reach 350 or even 400? The thought of continuing to grow, to add more size and mass, sent a thrill through him.

With one last look at the scale, he patted his belly, feeling it bounce under his touch. “Guess it’s time to celebrate with another big meal,” he said with a grin, rubbing his soft middle. “If I can hit 310, I know I can go bigger.”

He left the bathroom, feeling more determined than ever. The scale had given him a number, but it also gave him a goal—a new milestone to surpass. For Carlos, there was no stopping now; the bigger he got, the more he loved the process. 310 pounds was just the beginning.

Chapter 7

Carlos entered the doctor’s office, feeling the familiar sense of anticipation mixed with a bit of nervousness. It had been a while since his last checkup, and he knew things had changed significantly since then. The memory of stepping on his own scale and seeing 310 pounds flashed in his mind. He was curious—maybe a little anxious—about what the doctor might say. But deep down, he was proud of his transformation and ready to embrace whatever feedback he might receive.

As he sat down in the waiting room, he noticed the way his belly rested on his lap, his thighs spreading out and filling the space of the chair. His clothes felt snug as usual; his shirt stretched tightly over his chest and belly, and his shorts dug into his thick thighs. The nurse called his name, and he stood up, feeling the weight of his body shift as he moved. Each step made his belly jiggle and sway slightly, a reminder of how much he had grown.

“Carlos, nice to see you again,” the doctor greeted him as he walked into the examination room. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy… growing, I guess,” Carlos said with a grin, patting his belly as he took a seat on the examination table. The paper crinkled beneath his weight, and he adjusted himself, feeling his sides and belly spread out as he settled.

“Well, let’s start with the basics,” the doctor said, grabbing his stethoscope. “We’ll check your blood pressure, and then we’ll get your weight and run a few tests.”

Carlos nodded, holding his arm out for the cuff. As the doctor took his blood pressure, Carlos noticed the way the doctor’s eyes lingered on his belly. The doctor moved on to listen to his heartbeat, pressing the stethoscope against his thick chest, which jiggled slightly as he breathed in.

“Your heart sounds strong, Carlos. But I have to say, you’ve put on quite a bit of weight since your last visit,” the doctor remarked, a note of concern in his voice.

Carlos nodded, knowing this was coming. “Yeah, I’ve been bulking a lot. Trying something different, you know?”

The doctor raised an eyebrow but continued with his examination. “Well, let’s get you on the scale and see where you’re at.”

Carlos stood up, feeling the doctor’s eyes on him as he stepped onto the scale. The machine beeped and displayed the number clearly: 318 pounds. Carlos felt a mix of pride and apprehension. He had gained another eight pounds since he last checked, and he could feel every bit of it in the way his belly and chest jiggled when he moved.

The doctor scribbled some notes. “318 pounds. That’s quite a jump from where you were a couple of years ago, Carlos. You were around 190 back then, if I recall correctly.”

Carlos grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been focusing on bulking up—lifting heavy, eating more, and just… embracing the gains.”

The doctor nodded slowly, folding his arms. “I see that. It’s important to monitor this kind of growth closely, though. Gaining weight at this rate can have some effects on your overall health—especially your cardiovascular health, blood pressure, and metabolism.”

Carlos’s grin faded a bit. “I get that. I’ve been feeling good overall, but I guess it’s important to check everything.”

The doctor smiled, his tone softening. “It’s good to hear you feel well, and it’s obvious you’ve embraced the changes. But we just need to make sure your body is handling it. Let’s take some bloodwork and run a few tests to get a complete picture.”

Carlos agreed, and the doctor began the usual routine—taking his blood, checking his cholesterol levels, and monitoring his blood sugar. Carlos could feel his shirt tighten as he lifted his arm, the fabric straining to cover his expanding belly.

After the tests were done, the doctor sat down with Carlos to go over some preliminary findings. “So far, your results are within range, but I want you to keep an eye on your weight gain, especially around your belly. Carrying excess weight here can lead to higher risks for things like diabetes and heart issues down the road.”

Carlos nodded, absorbing the information. “I get it. I’ll try to balance it out more. Maybe mix in some cardio.”

The doctor smiled, relieved that Carlos was open to the advice. “That’s a great start. You don’t have to give up bulking, but finding a balance can help you maintain your health as you grow. And if you ever need guidance on nutrition or exercise adjustments, we’re here for you.”

Carlos stood up, shaking the doctor’s hand. “Thanks, doc. I appreciate it. I’ll take it seriously.”

As he left the office, Carlos felt a mixture of emotions—relief that he was still healthy but also a new sense of responsibility. He had achieved his goal of bulking up, and he loved the way he looked and felt. But he knew he needed to be mindful of the future, finding that balance between enjoying his new size and keeping his health in check.

Walking out of the clinic, he rubbed his belly thoughtfully. “Time for a big meal… and maybe a quick jog after,” he said to himself with a chuckle, feeling more determined than ever to grow stronger—both in body and in health.

Chapter 8

Carlos had been looking forward to this cruise for months. It was his first real vacation in years, and he was excited to let loose and enjoy himself. The cruise promised all the food, drinks, and entertainment he could imagine, and after months of intense training and bulking, he was ready to indulge without any restrictions. This was his chance to completely unwind and enjoy the results of his hard work—he was bigger and bulkier than ever, and this trip was all about celebration.

As soon as the ship set sail, Carlos felt the excitement build. The dining halls were endless buffets of food, with every option he could possibly crave—pasta dishes, steaks, burgers, mountains of desserts, and a never-ending flow of drinks. It was like a paradise designed just for him. He had always had a big appetite, but something about the cruise made him want to push his limits even further. Why not? He was here to enjoy himself, and he had the whole week to feast.

At breakfast on the first morning, Carlos piled his plate high with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and pastries. By the time he finished, he felt his belly pushing against his shirt, bloated but satisfied. He patted it with a grin, already planning his next meal. As the days went on, he fell into a rhythm—every meal was an opportunity to test his appetite, to see just how much he could eat. Lunch was a double helping of pasta and pizza, washed down with beer, and dinner was a multi-course affair with everything from seafood platters to steaks, finishing off with cheesecake and ice cream.

Carlos’s tank tops and shorts, already tight when he arrived, began to feel even snugger. His belly, which had grown softer and rounder over the months, now seemed to swell visibly by the hour. By the third day, his clothes were straining, the waistband of his shorts digging into the soft flesh of his sides and belly. His tank tops rode up, exposing his lower belly, which jiggled freely with every step. He didn’t care. He was on vacation, and he was loving every moment of it.

His friends on the cruise couldn’t help but notice how much he was eating, and they egged him on, challenging him to see just how much he could pack away at each meal. Carlos loved the attention. He became the center of every dinner, his friends cheering him on as he ordered extra entrees and desserts, watching in awe as he devoured plate after plate.

“Carlos, you’re a beast, man!” one of his friends said, shaking his head as he watched Carlos polish off another plate of ribs. “You’ve gotta be close to bursting.”

Carlos laughed, leaning back in his chair. His belly, now fully exposed beneath his tank top, bulged out, heavy and round, resting on his lap. “Not yet,” he replied with a grin, rubbing his swollen middle. “I’ve still got room.”

But as the days passed, Carlos started to feel the effects of his non-stop indulgence. By the fifth day, he had to unbutton his shorts completely just to sit comfortably at the table, and even then, his belly hung over the waistband, pressing against the table’s edge. His tank tops were practically useless, the fabric stretched so tight it barely covered his chest, leaving his growing belly entirely exposed.

That night, after a particularly indulgent dinner of steak, potatoes, and several slices of pie, Carlos felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. His friends watched in amusement as he struggled to get up from the table, his belly so full it felt like a weight pulling him down. He finally stood, swaying slightly as he felt the strain on his overstuffed stomach.

“Think you overdid it, big guy?” one of his friends joked, giving Carlos a playful pat on his belly, which jiggled in response.

Carlos chuckled, though he felt the tightness in his gut. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, rubbing his belly in slow circles. “But hey, it’s a vacation. Gotta make the most of it, right?”

The next morning, Carlos woke up feeling heavy and bloated, but that didn’t stop him from heading straight to the breakfast buffet. His stomach protested as he piled his plate high, but he ignored it, digging in with enthusiasm. He was determined to make the most of every day left on the cruise, no matter how tight his clothes felt or how full he was.

By the final day, Carlos was practically waddling through the ship. His belly had grown significantly, now hanging low and jiggling with every step, his love handles spilling over the sides of his shorts, which he could only manage to button halfway. He had embraced the gluttony completely, and the results were obvious—his entire body felt softer, rounder, and heavier.

At the last dinner, Carlos pushed himself to the limit. His friends watched in amazement as he ate course after course, his belly expanding before their eyes. By the time he finished his second dessert, he leaned back, feeling his belly pressing against the table, his skin tight and stretched.

“Whoa, Carlos, you’ve really outdone yourself,” one of his friends said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat like that.”

Carlos grinned, even as he felt the tightness of his belly stretching against his tank top. “Told you I was going all out,” he said, rubbing his belly, which jiggled with the motion. “This cruise was made for gains.”

But as he stood up, he felt the reality of just how much he had eaten. His belly felt impossibly heavy, and he had to lean back slightly to balance himself. His tank top rode up completely, and he staggered slightly, feeling the weight of his swollen belly pulling him forward. His friends rushed to help steady him, laughing as they patted his massive gut.

“Easy there, big guy,” one of them said. “Looks like you’re carrying a food baby.”

Carlos laughed, feeling the strain but loving every minute of it. “Guess I really went all out,” he admitted. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As the cruise docked the next day, Carlos knew he had let himself go in the best way possible. He stepped off the ship, feeling the extra weight with every movement, and already planning his next big bulk. After all, if he could handle a week of non-stop indulgence, there was no telling how much more he could grow.

Chapter 9

Carlos strode into the gym, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline mixed with the excitement of showing off his latest gains. It had been a few weeks since his cruise, and he had fully indulged in the aftermath. His appetite had only grown since his vacation, and every meal seemed to stretch his belly a little further. Today, he wore his favorite stringer vest—the same one that had fit perfectly months ago when he first started gaining. But as he moved, he could feel just how much things had changed.

The stringer vest barely covered his chest now. His pecs, once solid and firm, had grown heavier and softer, spilling out from the sides. The thin straps of the vest dug into his shoulders, stretching to hold the weight of his thick, round belly. His gut had ballooned since the cruise, and the vest could no longer cover it. It hung heavily over the waistband of his shorts, the soft flesh jiggling with every step he took. He felt the eyes of others in the gym on him, but Carlos didn’t mind; he loved the attention.

He walked over to the scale, rubbing his belly as he prepared to step on. The last time he checked, he was at 318 pounds, but he knew he had grown since then—he could feel it in the way his belly tugged at his waistband, in the way his chest swayed slightly when he moved. He took a deep breath and stepped on, feeling the cool surface beneath his feet.

The numbers blinked for a moment before settling.

335 pounds.

Carlos’ eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “Damn,” he muttered, running a hand over his belly, which jiggled with the motion. “335. That cruise really did me in.” He felt a surge of pride. He had gained a solid 17 pounds since his last weigh-in, and every single pound was visible on his body. His chest, belly, and even his thighs had thickened, filling out the shorts and vest in ways they hadn’t before.

Eager to test himself, Carlos decided to head for the treadmill. The last time he’d tried it, he was around 310 pounds and already struggling to keep up. Now, at 335, he was curious to see how his bulked-up body would handle the challenge. As he approached the treadmill, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror—his belly swaying and his chest spilling out of the sides of the vest. The shirt, already short on him, rode up completely, exposing the round, heavy curve of his gut.

He climbed onto the treadmill, adjusting his shorts, which felt like they were on the verge of splitting. He set the machine to a slow jog, feeling his belly bounce with the first few steps. The soft flesh wobbled freely, and he felt the weight of it pulling down with each stride. His chest jiggled as well, the soft mass swaying from side to side, and his love handles shifted with the movement.

The treadmill’s speed increased, and Carlos struggled to find his rhythm. His bulk made it hard to keep up—every step felt heavier, every stride more challenging as his belly jiggled wildly, and his chest bounced heavily in response. The machine beeped, and he tried to push himself to a faster pace, but his body protested. His thighs, thicker than ever, rubbed together, and he could feel the friction building with each movement. The sides of his belly jostled and slapped against his arms as he struggled to keep his pace steady.

A minute in, Carlos could feel the burn in his lungs, and the sweat began to trickle down his brow. His entire body felt like it was moving in slow motion, weighed down by the mass he had packed on. His breath came in heavy, labored pants, and he had to grip the treadmill’s handles for support. His belly, swinging freely beneath his vest, slapped against his thighs with every step, making it hard to ignore just how big he had become.

“Come on, you’ve got this,” he muttered to himself, though he felt his resolve weakening. His chest heaved as he tried to keep up, the fat jiggling and his love handles bouncing with each movement. It was clear his bulk was more than he could manage at this pace.

After only a few minutes, Carlos felt his energy drain. His legs wobbled, and his belly felt like an anchor dragging him down. He slowed the machine to a walk, catching his breath as he wiped the sweat from his face. The treadmill slowed, and he placed his hands on his hips, feeling the soft rolls spill out beneath his vest.

He grinned, despite the struggle. “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you bulk up,” he said with a laugh, patting his belly, which jiggled in response. “Can’t outrun this size anymore.” He gave his gut a playful shake, feeling the weight and softness of it, the way it bounced freely in his hands. It was a reminder of how far he’d come—how much he’d embraced the lifestyle and the gains that came with it.

Carlos stepped off the treadmill, his belly swinging slightly as he moved. He knew that running was no longer his strength, but he didn’t mind. He had grown too big, too bulky for cardio, and that was exactly how he liked it. He walked over to the weightlifting area, where he felt most at home, ready to lift heavy and continue his journey.

After all, if he could hit 335 pounds, who knew how much more he could gain? For Carlos, the sky was the limit—and he was determined to keep pushing his boundaries, one pound at a time.

Chapter 10

Carlos stood in front of the mirror, his hands gripping the sink as he leaned in closer. His face was flushed a deep shade of red, the sweat dripping down his forehead and cheeks, evidence of the intense struggle he had just endured on the treadmill. He could feel his heart racing, pounding heavily in his chest, and as he stared at his reflection, he saw it—a rhythmic thumping that made his pecs jiggle with each beat.

His chest, once firm and muscular, had grown into something softer and thicker. The weight of his gains was evident in the way his pecs moved, bouncing and quivering as his heart pulsed beneath the layer of fat he had built up over the months. It was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, to see how each heartbeat sent a ripple through his body, making his chest wobble in time. The stringer vest, stretched beyond its capacity, barely clung to his shoulders, the thin straps doing little to contain the movement.

Carlos watched as his chest rose and fell, the heavy mass jiggling uncontrollably. He placed one hand on his pec, feeling the warmth of his skin and the vibrations of his heartbeat beneath his palm. It was a strange sensation—his chest was both soft and solid, thick with the muscle he’d built and the fat he’d gained. He could feel the weight of it, the heaviness that now defined his body.

He pulled the vest aside slightly, revealing more of his swollen chest and the way it swayed with each breath. The soft flesh spilled over his fingers as he held it, feeling the jiggle continue in time with his racing heart. The exertion from the treadmill had sent his pulse soaring, and he could see the effect in every quiver and bounce. His chest wasn’t just moving; it was alive with the energy of his body, responding to every beat, every breath he took.

“Man, I’ve really packed it on,” he muttered, almost in disbelief as he felt his chest wobble again. “Never thought I’d see myself like this.”

He let go of his chest and moved his hand to his belly, which hung heavily over the waistband of his shorts, still jiggling slightly from the movement. It felt huge beneath his hand, warm and soft, and as he ran his fingers over the curve, he could feel his heart’s rhythm there too, faint but present, sending little tremors through the mass. His entire body seemed to be alive with the force of his heartbeat, every pound he’d gained responding to it.

Carlos leaned back, catching his breath as he continued to study his reflection. The red flush of his face was starting to fade, but the sweat still glistened on his skin, dripping down his neck and chest, making his body gleam under the gym’s fluorescent lights. The sight of himself—his pecs jiggling, his belly swaying, the heavy mass of his body moving with every heartbeat—was a reminder of just how far he had come.

He couldn’t deny the thrill he felt, the sense of power and size that came with each new pound. It was a rush, a feeling of having pushed himself to a new level, even if it meant he could no longer keep up with the treadmill like before. For Carlos, every jiggle, every thump of his chest, was proof that he had embraced his journey fully.

“Looks like cardio might not be my thing anymore,” he said with a chuckle, wiping the sweat from his face. “But lifting? That’s where I’ll keep growing.”

Carlos gave his chest one last playful jiggle, watching as it bounced freely before settling back into place. He felt his heart rate begin to slow, the intensity of the pounding subsiding, but the feeling of his soft, heavy chest remained. With a grin, he turned away from the mirror, determined to hit the weights hard. He may have struggled on the treadmill, but he knew that the gym’s weightlifting area was where he thrived—and he was ready to see just how much bigger and stronger he could get.

Chapter 11

Carlos stood on the sidewalk outside his apartment, the early morning sun casting long shadows. He had made a decision: it was time to take control of his health again. After his visit to the doctor and his last experience at the gym, he knew he had to find a balance. The weightlifting would continue—there was no way he was giving up on his gains—but he realized he needed to incorporate more movement into his routine. Running had proven too difficult, but walking felt manageable.

He set out, feeling the cool morning air against his skin as he began his walk. His belly bounced with each step, swaying slightly beneath his oversized t-shirt, and his chest jiggled gently. It was a slower pace than he was used to, but it felt good. His body was heavy, but the walk gave him a sense of purpose and control, the rhythmic motion of his strides providing a steady, calming beat.

At first, Carlos was determined to stick to his new routine. He walked every morning, gradually increasing his distance. It felt good to be active again, and he even noticed that the walking helped his energy levels throughout the day. But as he spent more time on his walks, something else began to change—his appetite.

It started subtly. After his walks, he found himself craving a bigger breakfast than usual. What used to be a couple of eggs and toast turned into a full spread: bacon, sausages, pancakes, and a generous helping of syrup. He rationalized it at first—he was burning more calories, so why not fuel up? But soon, his appetite soared beyond his walks. His body, now used to the extra movement, seemed to crave even more fuel, and he found himself constantly reaching for snacks.

Carlos tried to stick to healthier options, but his cravings intensified. Pizza, burgers, and entire boxes of donuts started making their way into his routine meals. His walks, while beneficial, weren’t enough to counter the sheer volume of food he was consuming. Each time he finished a meal, he found himself still hungry, his body demanding more.

One day, after finishing a particularly long walk, Carlos returned home with a ravenous hunger. He devoured an entire stack of pancakes, loaded with butter and syrup, followed by a second helping of eggs and hash browns. As he sat back, feeling his belly swell and press against his shirt, he realized just how much his appetite had taken over. His hands moved to his belly, rubbing it as he felt it expand. The walk had been good, but his appetite was turning into a force of its own.

Despite the walking, the pounds continued to add on. Carlos’ belly grew softer and rounder, filling out beneath his shirt until it hung heavily over his shorts. His chest, already thick from his bulk, jiggled more with each step, and his love handles became more pronounced, forming soft rolls that pressed against his sides. His thighs thickened as well, rubbing together with every stride, the friction becoming a familiar sensation.

One morning, he set out for his walk with his favorite breakfast spot in mind—a diner he had discovered on one of his routes. They had a “mega breakfast platter,” and after one taste, Carlos found himself returning more frequently. He walked briskly, feeling his body sway as he moved. The fresh air invigorated him, and despite the bounce and jiggle of his belly, he felt good. But as he approached the diner, he felt his hunger pangs intensify. His walks, which had started as a health-focused routine, were quickly becoming excuses to indulge.

He sat down at his usual booth, already feeling his mouth water as he glanced at the menu. The waitress greeted him with a smile, knowing his order by heart. “The usual, Carlos?”

He grinned, patting his belly. “You know it—make it extra bacon today.”

As he waited, he noticed the other patrons giving him glances, but he didn’t mind. He was used to the looks. When the platter arrived, he dug in with enthusiasm, the hunger that had built up on his walk pushing him to eat quickly. He devoured plate after plate—eggs, sausages, hash browns, pancakes, bacon—until his belly felt tight and full, pushing against the table’s edge. He sat back, breathing heavily as he rubbed the swollen curve of his stomach, feeling the weight of the food settling inside.

“Guess I earned it,” he said with a grin, though he knew deep down that his walks were doing little to balance out his appetite. The reality was that his body was thriving on the excess, and his cravings were only growing stronger.

Carlos left the diner, feeling the familiar heaviness in his belly as he resumed his walk. He moved slower now, his belly swaying and bouncing with each step, reminding him of just how much he had eaten. The walk felt more like a waddle, and he could feel the way his shirt clung to his chest, the fabric stretched tight across his pecs and soft belly.

As he rounded the corner to head home, he knew he was at a crossroads. Walking was supposed to help him balance out his lifestyle, but instead, it seemed to be fueling his appetite and his gains even more. He paused, rubbing his belly thoughtfully, feeling it jiggle beneath his hand. “I guess I’ve got to find a middle ground,” he muttered to himself, though he couldn’t help but smile. He liked the size he had become, and the thought of growing even bigger excited him.

Walking had become a routine, but so had his indulgences. Carlos knew he’d have to figure out a new balance—one where he could enjoy his growing appetite and his growing body, while still taking care of himself. For now, though, he was content to walk at his own pace, letting his appetite—and his body—take the lead.

Chapter 12

A month had passed since Carlos had added his daily walks to his routine, and while they helped clear his mind and gave him some light activity, they did little to curb his soaring appetite. In fact, the extra movement seemed to fuel his hunger even more, and his meals grew larger, turning into feasts. The results were impossible to ignore—his body was growing at a pace he hadn’t anticipated. His clothes felt tighter with each passing day, and the scale, when he finally faced it, confirmed what he already suspected.

Carlos stood in front of the gym’s scale, taking a deep breath before stepping on. The numbers blinked for a moment before settling: 352 pounds. He stared at the display, feeling the excitement rush through him. He had crossed the 350-pound mark, and every pound was visible on his body. His chest was heavy and full, his belly rounder than ever, hanging low over the waistband of his gym shorts. Even his arms and legs had thickened, the muscle he had worked so hard to build now encased in a soft layer of fat.

He grinned, rubbing his belly as he stepped off the scale. “Well, guess it’s time to put these gains to work,” he muttered to himself as he headed over to the weightlifting area for his leg day session.

Carlos had always loved leg day, and even though his size made some movements more challenging, he was determined to push himself. He started with squats, loading the barbell with heavy plates. As he positioned himself under the bar, he felt the weight settle on his shoulders, pressing down into his thick traps. His belly, large and soft, brushed against his thighs as he squatted down, the movement causing it to bunch up and jiggle slightly.

He took a deep breath and pushed up, feeling his thighs—now much thicker and softer—engage as they lifted the weight. His belly wobbled with the motion, and he felt the pull of his shirt, which struggled to stay down over the curve of his gut. Each time he squatted, his belly pressed further into his legs, the soft mass compressing and spreading out, almost like a cushion. When he stood back up, the weight of his belly tugged downward, and he had to adjust his stance to maintain his balance.

After a few sets, Carlos could feel the burn in his legs, but he wasn’t done yet. He moved on to the leg press machine, adjusting the seat to accommodate his size. As he sat down, his belly spilled over his lap, resting heavily as he set his feet on the platform. His shorts, already tight, stretched to their limit as his thighs spread out, the fabric straining against the bulk of his legs.

Carlos pushed the weight up, feeling his legs engage. With each rep, he felt the jiggle of his belly and chest, the movement causing ripples through the soft mass. His thighs, now thicker than ever, wobbled with each press, the fat around them shifting as he powered through the set. He could see the outline of his quads beneath the softness, the muscle still there but now surrounded by a layer of bulk.

As he continued, he felt the strain of his size—his belly, so much bigger now, pushed against his thighs, making it hard to complete the full range of motion. His breathing grew heavier, his chest heaving as he worked through the reps. Sweat trickled down his face, his entire body working hard to keep up with the intensity of the session. Every time he pushed, he could feel the weight of his bulk shift, his pecs bouncing slightly and his belly swaying.

The last exercise of the day was lunges, a move that had become more challenging as his body grew. He grabbed a pair of heavy dumbbells, positioning them at his sides, and took a deep breath. As he stepped forward, he felt the weight of his belly shift, pulling him down as he balanced on one leg. His chest, which had grown fuller, jiggled slightly with each step, and he could feel the sides of his belly brush against his arms.

Carlos pushed through the set, but each step felt heavier than the last. His thighs, rubbing together with every movement, jiggled slightly, the extra fat and muscle making each lunge feel like a test of strength. By the time he finished, he was out of breath, his entire body glistening with sweat. He placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath, and felt his belly press into his thighs, the familiar warmth and softness a reminder of just how far he’d come.

He straightened up, feeling the sweat drip down his neck and chest. His shirt clung to him, stretched tight over his pecs and belly, and he could see the outline of his love handles pressing against the fabric. His body had grown so much, but he loved the feeling of his size—every jiggle, every bounce was proof of his journey and the gains he had embraced.

As Carlos headed to the locker room, he looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the full view. His body, once lean and muscular, was now massive and powerful, every inch of it thicker and softer. His legs, thick and strong, carried the bulk of his belly, which bounced with each step. His chest, heavy and full, hung slightly over his stomach, the sides pressing against his arms.

He patted his belly, feeling the sweat-slicked flesh jiggle under his hand. “352 pounds and still going strong,” he said with a grin. “Time to keep these gains coming.”

Carlos felt the satisfaction of a hard workout—and the anticipation of his next meal. He knew his appetite would be raging after the session, and he was more than ready to fuel his growing body, one bite at a time.

Chapter 13

Three months had flown by in a blur of heavy lifting, massive meals, and endless gains. Carlos had settled into a routine that was as satisfying as it was intense. His days revolved around the gym, lifting more weight than ever before, and indulging in feasts that had become his new normal. Despite his initial commitment to balance, his walks had turned into brief, slow strolls that served mainly as a warm-up for the lifting sessions he loved so much.

His appetite, once manageable, had become a ravenous force. The sheer volume of food he was consuming had skyrocketed, and it showed in every inch of his body. His belly, now round and heavy, protruded far beyond his waistband, jiggling and bouncing freely with every movement. His pecs, thick and full, hung over his gut, and his arms, once defined and muscular, were encased in soft layers of bulk. Even his back and sides had developed thick rolls that spread out whenever he sat down, making him feel like he was enveloped in his own bulk.

Carlos knew he had been growing, but he had lost track of his exact weight. He had avoided the scale for months, caught up in the rush of his bulking lifestyle and the satisfaction of filling out his clothes more and more. Today, though, something made him curious. He stared at himself in the gym’s mirror, his massive body barely contained in his tank top and shorts. His shirt, riding up over his belly, left most of it exposed, and his shorts dug into his thick thighs and love handles. He looked and felt huge, and the urge to see just how far he had come was too tempting to ignore.

With a deep breath, he approached the scale. The machine creaked under his weight as he stepped on, and he watched as the numbers flickered before finally settling. His eyes widened when the display read: 376 pounds.

Carlos felt a surge of shock, quickly followed by pride. He had gained another 24 pounds in just three months. He was now far beyond the 350-pound mark, and the thought of how much he had grown made his chest swell with satisfaction. He placed a hand on his belly, feeling the familiar jiggle beneath his fingers. “376,” he muttered, grinning. “Damn, I’m really getting massive.”

He took a moment to admire himself in the mirror, rubbing the heavy, round curve of his belly. It hung lower now, pulling at the waistband of his shorts and jiggling with every shift of his stance. His chest, full and soft, swayed as he adjusted his tank top, which barely covered his torso. The thin straps strained to hold his mass, and his love handles spilled out, forming thick rolls that pressed against the fabric.

Satisfied with his weigh-in, Carlos headed straight to the weightlifting area. Today was another leg day, and he was determined to push his limits. He approached the squat rack, loading it up with even more plates than before, feeling the familiar thrill of challenging his strength.

As he positioned himself under the bar, he felt his belly press against his thighs, a reminder of how much his body had changed. Each squat was a test of balance—his gut compressed as he lowered himself, spreading out over his legs and pushing up into his chest. When he stood back up, the weight of his belly pulled downward, and he had to adjust his stance to maintain stability. The jiggling was constant, his entire body moving in response to each rep. His thighs, now massive and thick, wobbled with the effort, the fat around them shifting and quivering.

Carlos powered through the sets, feeling the burn in his legs as they supported his weight. He could feel the muscle working beneath the softness, a satisfying reminder that, despite his size, he was still strong. When he moved to the leg press machine, the seat creaked as he sat down, and he adjusted himself to accommodate the bulk of his belly. The press was a familiar challenge—each rep made his thighs shake, and his gut, resting heavily on his lap, bounced with the motion.

By the end of his session, Carlos was drenched in sweat. His shirt clung to his body, the fabric outlining every curve and roll. His chest heaved, and he could see the way his pecs jiggled, the soft flesh swaying as he caught his breath. His shorts felt tighter than ever, stretched to their limit around his thick legs and love handles.

He stood in front of the mirror again, feeling the satisfaction of a hard workout and admiring the changes in his body. His face, fuller and softer, was flushed from the exertion, and his entire body seemed to gleam under the gym lights. His arms, chest, and belly all moved with his breathing, the softness jiggling with each inhale and exhale.

“376 pounds and still getting bigger,” he said to himself, his grin widening as he gave his belly a playful shake. “Let’s see if I can break 400 next.”

Carlos left the gym, feeling the familiar heaviness in his body but also a sense of excitement. The scale had confirmed what he already knew—he was growing, and he was loving every moment of it. With every meal, every lift, he felt himself getting closer to his next milestone, and the thought of hitting 400 pounds only fueled his determination to keep going.

Chapter 14

Carlos made his way to the doctor’s office, the anticipation of his upcoming cruise putting a spring in his step. It was his favorite time of year—time to indulge again, to eat his fill, and enjoy the relaxation he had come to love about cruises. But before he could board the ship, he needed to get a routine travel shot as a precaution. He hadn’t been to the doctor in a while, and he knew the nurse would likely give him a look when they saw how much he had grown.

As he walked through the door, the receptionist greeted him warmly, though her eyes lingered for a moment on his bulk. Carlos smiled, feeling his belly shift under his shirt as he signed in. The small waiting room chairs were now a tight fit for him, and as he sat down, he felt his belly spill over his lap, pressing into his thighs. The sensation was familiar but still a reminder of just how much bigger he had become.

After a short wait, the nurse called his name, and he rose from the chair, adjusting his shirt that was already riding up over his belly. He followed her into the exam room, feeling the way his body jiggled with each step. As he entered, the nurse gave him a once-over, raising an eyebrow as she took in his size. “It’s been a while since your last visit, Carlos. Looks like you’ve been… growing.”

Carlos grinned, patting his belly. “Yeah, you could say that. Been bulking up.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’ll need to get your weight and some vitals before the shot, so go ahead and step on the scale.”

Carlos hesitated for a moment, knowing it had been months since he last checked his weight. The doctor’s scale felt different—more official, somehow—compared to the gym. He stepped on, the scale creaking slightly as he positioned himself. The nurse adjusted the sliding weights, her eyes widening as she moved them further than she expected. Finally, the number settled: 388 pounds.

Carlos stared at the number, feeling a mix of shock and pride. He had put on another 12 pounds since his last weigh-in, and he could feel every bit of it. “Wow,” he muttered, rubbing his belly, which wobbled under his hand. “Almost 390.”

The nurse shook her head with a smile. “That’s a big jump, Carlos. Let’s go ahead and get your blood pressure and vitals next.”

Carlos sat on the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath his weight. As he adjusted his position, he felt his sides press against the edge, the thick rolls of his love handles pushing out. The nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm, and he noticed how tight it felt. His arms had grown so much thicker, and the softness around them made the cuff snug against his skin.

As the nurse took his blood pressure, Carlos watched the numbers appear. She nodded, scribbling in her notes. “It’s a little elevated, but not too bad. We’ll keep an eye on it.” She paused, giving him a knowing look. “Carrying extra weight like this can put a strain on the heart, you know.”

Carlos nodded, smiling but feeling the seriousness of her words. “I know. I’m trying to balance things out—staying active, walking, lifting weights. But I guess my appetite gets the better of me.”

“Well, as long as you’re keeping an eye on things. Let’s get the shot and then you’ll be all set.” She prepared the vaccine, and Carlos rolled up his sleeve. The strap of his tank top dug into his shoulder, highlighting the bulk he had built up there. His pecs pressed out to the side, jiggling slightly as he adjusted his position.

The shot itself was quick, and before long, the nurse handed him some paperwork. “Just keep monitoring your health, okay? I know you’ve got a cruise coming up, but try to take it easy.”

Carlos grinned. “No promises, but I’ll do my best.”

The nurse shook her head playfully as he left the room, feeling the familiar heaviness of his body shift with each step. He rubbed his belly as he walked down the hallway, feeling it jiggle with each stride. Nearly 390 pounds and counting—he knew that next cruise would likely push him even further.

As he walked back to the waiting room to leave, he thought about the upcoming trip and all the meals waiting for him. He was ready to enjoy every minute of it. After all, he had worked hard for these gains, and he was more than ready to take on the next milestone—400 pounds was just around the corner, and he was excited to get there, one feast at a time.

Chapter 15

Carlos stepped onto the cruise ship with a grin that stretched from ear to ear. This was his third cruise, and by now, he knew exactly what to expect—and exactly what he was here for. The last few months of lifting and indulging had prepared him for this moment. The buffet tables, the endless drinks, the multi-course dinners—it was all his playground. If his previous cruise had pushed his appetite to new heights, this one promised to be the ultimate test. He was ready to let go, to indulge without a care in the world.

From the first evening, Carlos threw himself into the experience with gusto. The all-you-can-eat buffet called to him like a siren song. Piles of pasta, steaks, seafood platters, towers of desserts—it was all laid out, and Carlos felt his appetite awaken like a beast unleashed. He filled his plate again and again, savoring each bite as he made his way through the massive spread.

Every meal became an event. Breakfast was stacks of pancakes, plates of bacon, and endless waffles, smothered in butter and syrup. Lunches were no less extravagant, with double burgers, fries, pizzas, and whatever else he could pile onto his tray. Dinner was the real spectacle—multi-course meals where he ordered two or three entrees at a time. Each night, he pushed himself further, his belly swelling larger with every meal.

By the third day, Carlos noticed the changes in his body. His shorts, which had fit snugly when he boarded, now felt tight and uncomfortable. His shirts rode up constantly, exposing his belly, which had grown rounder and softer, pressing out over the waistband of his shorts. The feeling of fullness had become a constant companion, but he found himself craving it, loving the sensation of being stuffed and satisfied.

His friends on the cruise watched in amazement. They had seen him bulk up before, but this was something else. Carlos wasn’t just eating—he was devouring everything in sight. His appetite seemed limitless, and his friends encouraged him, turning each meal into a challenge to see just how much he could consume.

“Carlos, you’re a machine!” one of them exclaimed as he watched him polish off a second tray of ribs at dinner. “I’ve never seen anyone eat like this.”

Carlos laughed, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his belly, which bulged heavily against the table. “Hey, when you’re on a cruise, you go all out,” he replied with a grin, giving his gut a shake. It wobbled in response, the weight and softness of it more pronounced than ever.

But as the days went on, the indulgence became even more intense. By the fifth day, Carlos could barely button his shorts. His belly had swollen so much that it hung low, jiggling with each step he took. His shirts, no matter how large, couldn’t contain him anymore, leaving his belly exposed and bouncing freely. His chest, now heavy and soft, swayed with every movement, and even his arms and thighs had thickened considerably, making every piece of clothing feel tight and constricting.

At breakfast, he would arrive early, determined to get through as many plates as he could before the dining room filled up. Pancakes, French toast, sausages—he stacked them high and ate with abandon, barely pausing to breathe as he shoveled the food down. By the time he finished, his belly felt tight, stretched to its limit, and he leaned back, rubbing it as it jutted out, his face flushed and satisfied.

By the seventh day, Carlos was moving slower. The sheer volume of food he had consumed had taken its toll, and every step felt heavy. His belly, now massive, swayed with each stride, pulling him forward slightly as he waddled through the hallways. His thighs rubbed together, and his love handles spilled out over the sides of his shorts, which had become almost unwearable. His shirts were useless; they couldn’t stretch enough to cover the curve of his gut, and he had resorted to leaving them unbuttoned, letting his belly hang out freely.

One evening, during the captain’s dinner, Carlos truly went all out. He ordered three appetizers, four entrees, and two desserts. His friends watched in amazement as he ate, his belly expanding visibly with each bite. By the time he finished, he could barely move. His gut was enormous, pushing against the edge of the table, and his chest rested heavily on top of it, jiggling slightly as he breathed heavily.

“Carlos, I think you’ve set a record,” one of his friends said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s got to be the most food anyone’s eaten on this cruise.”

Carlos chuckled, though his face was flushed, and he felt the tightness in his gut. “Feels like it,” he admitted, leaning back as far as he could. His belly was so full it felt like a massive weight, pulling him down. He rubbed it slowly, feeling the taut, bloated flesh beneath his fingers. It was hard and round, pushing out far beyond what he thought possible.

As the cruise neared its end, Carlos found it difficult to navigate the ship. His waddling had become more pronounced, his massive belly leading the way as it bounced with every step. His clothes were now completely stretched beyond their limits; he had to wear his swim trunks most of the time because they were the only thing that had a bit of stretch left. His shirts, even the largest ones, couldn’t hide the bulk he had added.

On the final day, Carlos weighed himself in the ship’s fitness center, curious but almost nervous to see the number. The scale took a moment to settle before displaying: 407 pounds.

He stared at the number, feeling both shock and pride. He had crossed the 400-pound mark. He rubbed his belly, which was now a massive, round dome, and felt the weight of it jiggle beneath his hand. “407 pounds,” he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. “I guess I really lost control this time.”

Carlos walked out of the fitness center, his massive body moving with a sway that he had grown accustomed to. His belly bounced with every step, his chest jiggled freely, and his thighs rubbed together, making it clear just how much he had grown during the cruise. He knew that this cruise had been a turning point—he had fully embraced his appetite and the lifestyle that came with it, and there was no going back.

As he looked at his reflection in the window of the ship, he saw a man who had pushed his limits, who had embraced every pound. The cruise had been uncontrollable, but it had also been everything he wanted. Carlos grinned, rubbing his enormous belly as he headed to his final feast. After all, he still had time for one last meal before disembarking—and he planned to enjoy every bite.

Chapter 16

Carlos sat down at his final meal on the cruise with a determined look in his eyes. It was his last chance to indulge before returning to the reality of his usual routine—if he was going to go all out, it had to be now. The dining hall was buzzing with the chatter of other passengers, but all Carlos could focus on was the towering plates of food arriving at his table. He had ordered everything: double helpings of pasta, piles of ribs slathered in sauce, steak, potatoes, buttery rolls, and more desserts than any one person should reasonably attempt.

His friends, gathered around him, watched in a mix of amusement and amazement. They had seen Carlos eat, and they knew he was capable of putting away an incredible amount of food, but tonight felt different. Tonight, he seemed like a man on a mission, and they couldn’t help but cheer him on.

“Carlos, this is the last feast of the cruise—make it count!” one of his friends shouted, raising his glass in a toast.

Carlos laughed, lifting a rib to his mouth. “Oh, you know I will. This ship isn’t leaving until I’ve tried everything one last time.”

He dug in, each bite pushing him further. The food was delicious, the flavors rich and intense, and every mouthful sent a surge of satisfaction through him. The plates piled up around him as he worked his way through dish after dish. His belly, already massive from the week’s indulgence, swelled with each bite. It pushed harder against the table’s edge, expanding visibly as he kept eating. He felt the familiar tightness, the pressure building, but he didn’t slow down.

Carlos ordered more as he finished each plate. His friends egged him on, laughing and cheering as he devoured everything set before him. The pasta, thick and creamy, disappeared quickly; the steaks vanished as he sliced through each one; and the bread rolls, slathered in butter, were swallowed whole. He lost track of time, his focus entirely on the feast. His belly grew tighter and tighter, the fabric of his swim trunks straining as it swelled outward. His shirt had long since ridden up, leaving his massive gut exposed, round and heavy.

Dessert arrived—multiple slices of cheesecake, a stack of brownies, and a pile of ice cream topped with chocolate sauce. Carlos could feel his stomach protesting, the fullness reaching an almost painful level, but he was determined. He dug into the desserts with the same enthusiasm, feeling each bite push his limits further. His friends watched, their eyes wide as they saw the strain on his face, the way his belly seemed to grow with each passing minute.

By the time he finished the last bite of cheesecake, Carlos leaned back, his breathing heavy. His belly was enormous, stretched so far it looked as if it might burst. It pressed against the edge of the table, swollen and taut, jiggling slightly as he tried to adjust himself. His face was flushed, and he could feel the heat radiating from his body as it worked to digest the massive quantity of food.

Carlos attempted to push himself up from the table, his hands gripping the edge as he tried to stand. But as he shifted his weight, he felt the immensity of his belly pull him back down. It was too much. He felt the strain, the heaviness, and the tightness of his gut anchoring him to the chair. His friends’ laughter turned to concern as they saw him struggle.

“Carlos, you good, man?” one of them asked, coming closer. “Need a hand?”

Carlos tried again, leaning forward and gripping the table. His belly, fully stuffed, hung low, pressing against his thighs, and he felt the pressure intensify. He grimaced, realizing that he was truly stuck. “I—uh—I don’t think I can stand up,” he admitted, laughing weakly. “I’ve eaten way too much.”

The others couldn’t help but laugh, even as they reached out to help him. “Dude, you really went all out, huh?” one of them said, giving his belly a playful pat. The touch sent a ripple through his swollen middle, and Carlos winced, feeling the movement in his overloaded gut.

They tried to pull him up, but his belly was so heavy, so full, that it felt like a weight holding him down. The food he had packed in there had expanded his gut to its absolute limit, and every attempt to shift or stand only made it jiggle and sway, making the pressure worse. Carlos felt his face flush further, the sensation both embarrassing and thrilling. He had never eaten so much that he couldn’t move, but here he was—too full, too heavy to even get up.

“Alright, alright, just—give me a second,” Carlos said, breathing heavily as he rubbed his belly, trying to ease the pressure. He leaned back, letting the chair support him as he felt the weight of his gut press into his thighs. His friends hovered around, still laughing but ready to help.

After several minutes, and with the help of two friends, Carlos finally managed to shift his weight enough to stand. He braced himself, feeling the fullness pull him forward as he found his balance. His belly, enormous and round, stuck out so far that it led the way, jiggling with every movement as he took slow, careful steps. His legs felt wobbly, the sheer amount of food making even walking a challenge.

As he waddled slowly out of the dining hall, his friends trailing behind, he couldn’t help but laugh. “I think that’s a sign I did the cruise right,” he said, giving his gut another rub. “When you eat so much, you can’t even stand.”

“Guess we’ll have to roll you off the ship!” one of his friends joked, and Carlos joined in the laughter, feeling the deep, satisfied ache of his belly.

He knew he had pushed his limits, and he loved every second of it. The cruise had been the ultimate indulgence, and his last meal was proof that he had embraced it fully. As he made his way back to his room, his belly bouncing and swaying with each step, Carlos felt a sense of pride. He had grown—both in size and in appetite—and he was already looking forward to the next time he could push those limits even further.

Chapter 17 finale

Carlos returned home from the cruise feeling heavier than ever, his body bearing the signs of a week of indulgence. The mirror in his bathroom confirmed what he already knew—he had gone too far this time. His belly, once large and round, now hung heavily in front of him, a soft mass that jiggled with every movement. His chest, which had become fuller and softer over the months, now sagged to the sides, pushing out against his shirts. Even his face, fuller and rounder than ever, showed the effects of his overindulgence.

The first morning back, Carlos stood in front of the bathroom mirror, running a hand over his gut. It was massive, spilling out over the waistband of his shorts, and the fabric strained to contain his thighs and love handles. He sighed, feeling the soft flesh beneath his fingers jiggle with the motion. He had pushed his body to its limit, and it was time to make a change.

“This has gotten out of hand,” he muttered, his eyes tracing the heavy curves and rolls that had formed around his midsection. “I need to get back on track.”

Carlos decided to start walking again. It was the only exercise that felt manageable given his size, and he remembered how good it felt when he used to walk every morning before his appetite had truly taken over. He was determined to find balance again—not to lose all his gains but to regain control of his health. This time, he was serious about it.

He laced up his sneakers, which felt snug around his feet, and pulled on the largest shirt he owned. It was loose enough to give him some room, but even then, it clung to his chest and belly, leaving much of his midsection exposed as he moved. With a deep breath, he stepped outside, feeling the cool morning air against his skin. The first few steps felt heavy; his body swayed as his belly bounced with every movement. He could feel the strain in his legs, the way his thighs rubbed together with each stride.

Carlos started slow, focusing on finding a steady rhythm. His body, now so much heavier than before, required more effort, and he could feel the jiggle of his belly and chest with each step. But as he continued, he felt a familiar sense of peace. The morning was quiet, the air crisp, and with every step, he felt himself reconnecting with the sense of control he’d once had.

His walks became a daily routine. Each morning, he went a little further, pushing himself to go just one more block. He noticed the way his body responded—how his legs, though thick, began to feel stronger as they adjusted to the weight they carried. His breathing, which had felt labored at first, gradually became easier, and he felt his endurance slowly building. But most importantly, he felt his mind clear. Walking gave him time to think, to reflect on the choices he had made and the changes he wanted to implement.

Carlos still struggled with his appetite. Every day was a challenge to resist the large meals he had grown accustomed to, but he started to make small adjustments. He swapped out his massive breakfasts for smaller, more balanced meals—fruit, oatmeal, eggs. At lunch, he cut down on portions, making healthier choices without entirely depriving himself. Dinners were the hardest; the temptation to indulge was strongest in the evenings, but Carlos reminded himself that his walks were only one part of the equation.

He knew it wouldn’t be easy, and the progress was slow. His body was used to being large, and the habits he had formed over the past year weren’t going to disappear overnight. But with every walk, he felt a little stronger, a little more capable of making the changes he needed. He still loved the feeling of his bulky body, but he also wanted to be able to move freely, to have the energy to keep lifting and enjoying life without feeling weighed down.

One morning, as he finished his walk and stood back in front of the mirror, Carlos saw the small signs of improvement. His belly, still large and soft, didn’t hang quite as heavily as before. His legs felt more solid beneath him, and his face, while still full, had regained some of its definition. It wasn’t about becoming lean again—he knew that wasn’t his goal—but about finding the middle ground where he could be big, strong, and healthy.

With a grin, he gave his belly a playful pat. It jiggled under his hand, a reminder of the journey he had been on and the work still ahead. “One step at a time,” he said to himself. “I’ve got this.”

Carlos continued to walk every day, embracing the small victories and the progress he made. He wasn’t giving up on his gains; he was just finding a way to balance them. And this time, he felt confident he could do it.

[bellysoupset]

"I can't," Lucas groaned, resting his forehead to the table and wrapping his arms around his stomach, "I'm done."

"No, you're not," Vince pushed the fries his way, looking stuffed himself, but still dutifully munching on his fifth burger, "c'mon, Luke, you know how it is."

He did know how it was. At the current weight category he was sitting at - and Vince too - by the time the next season started, they'd be flung around like ragdolls. They didn't stand a chance.

Lucas nodded, grabbing a handful of fries and bringing it to his mouth, not even bothering to muffle the burp that snuck out as he stuffed his face.

They were sitting at Alfredo's Stopover, a greasy diner with super cheap meals and free refills for their drinks, that was a common stop for the football team and known as simply "Fredo's". Their town wasn't that big to begin with, so they actually got a discount there, Alfredo himself being in his late 60's and whose three sons had been a part of the football team when they were in college.

Pleasantries and manners were wasted in Fredo's.

Vince groaned, patting his stomach and rubbing on the side, working up a large burp. Large enough it startled Lucas, causing him to jump and hiccup.

"Don't do that, you're gonna making me hurl," he groaned, kicking his friend under the table and then wincing when the movement only caused his stomach to churn harder. He was stuffed. Between the two of them they had cleaned up more than twelve full burgers - real stuff, not those tiny things McDonalds' served - five extra large coke cups and three large fries portions.

It was their first cheat day in the new bulking season and at first Lucas had been excited about having greasy fast food instead of ultra healthy protein shakes. It was no longer the case, though.

Vince groaned again, shifting on his seat and then massaging his left side. He had removed the stitches a while ago, but clearly it was still sore when his stomach was stretched like that, "I'm so fucking full..."

"You're bigger than me," Lucas mumbled, eyeing the remaining fries with disgust, "so you can imagine how I feel."

"Uhm," Vin answered, struggling to take a deep breath, "can my stomach burst? Feels like it's going to burst."

Lucas chuckled at the imagery, only for his stomach to jump to his throat. He pressed his fist to his mouth, breathing through the hot nausea pooling on top of his belly and swallowing the fries that tried to come up back down.

"Luke?"

"I'm actually done," he decided, giving up on the last handful of fries, "if I eat another bite I'm gonna barf."

"Pussy," Vince scoffed, reaching over and grabbing the last fries, eating it all in one bite. He thumped his chest, bringing up another burp and then stretched on the booth, spreading his legs apart, "okay, I need a minute for this to settle."

Lucas didn't bother answering, he was feeling too sick to even try and make conversation. The fact that he'd have to eat again in three hours was enough to make his stomach hurt.

Across from him, Vince was pressing on his stuffed stomach, working up a string of unashamed burps and Luke grimaced. He was packed so full, if he burped he was going to hurl.

He leaned back too and tugged at the elastic of his pants, rolling it down and causing Vin to snort in an amused way, "you look pregnant, Luke."

Lucas opened a pained smile, planting a hand on the curve of his belly and holding it, as if he could relieve some of it's weight with his hands alone. Vince belched again, undoing the cords of his own sweatpants and loosening the whole thing up, before tying the silliest bow over his bloated stomach.

They stayed quiet for the longest time, Vince burping up a ton, while Lucas swallowed his food back down, here and there letting out the tiniest of burps, getting no relief from it.

"time for dessert, boys?" Alfredo, the sixties aged owner, stepped to their table, looking terribly entertained, "banana splitz for you both?"

"Jeez, Fredo, you're trying to kill me?" Lucas groaned, elbows planted on the table and staring at his lap, "I really can't eat another bite, I'm sorry."

"Nonsense," Alfredo scoffed, thumping his back in a friendly manner and dislodging a burp, that had Lucas whimpering and swallowing the overly sweet spit that flooded his mouth. He was a short man, with a large gut and curly white hair, "what about you, Vincenzo?"

"Not banana splitz," Vince groaned, muffling a burp on his hand and mumbling, "excuse me... I have that milk bullshit, remember?"

"Oh yes, yes," Alfredo frowned, while Lucas let out a nauseous groan and let out a small, wet belch, "pie then?"

"Uhm..." Vince grimaced, fingers digging on his stomach, "to go? Do you have pumpkin?"

"Alright, to go and pumpkin..." The old man turned to look at Lucas, "you're a little green, son..."

"Yeah, I overdid it," Lucas sighed, resting his forehead to the table, "sorry, Fredo, but no dessert for me."

"It's okay, son, another night," he said cheerfully, messing Lucas' hair and then turned around, "should I call you two a cab?"

"No, I drove us here..." Lucas groaned, although there was no way he was driving out of there, "Vin?"

"I got him, Fredo, don't worry," Vince said, his voice a little strained as he massaged his chest, since a burp had gotten stuck.

Lucas looked up, swallowing the salty spit and making a face, "can't believe you can fit a pie, Vin."

"Not now, it's for later tonight," Vince sighed, then took in a deep breath, working up a satisfying burp. Lucas gagged as he smelt the burgers all over again and ducked his head, swallowing convulsively.

"Luke?" Vince called over his head, "man, don't barf, otherwise you'll just have to make up for it tomorrow..."

"I know," Luke's voice was thick with sickness, "not gonna barf..." he wasn't so sure of it, but he was not going to be sick in Fredo's nice little dinner and cause a mess for other's to clean.

"Okay," Vince said, unsure, "let me know when you're ready to get in the car."

It took him a handful of minutes, time enough for Alfredo to return with Vince's to-go box and to pay for their meal. Finally, finally, as Vince was mindlessly nibbling away at his pumpkin pie, not feeling well enough to eat it or bad enough to put it away, Luke straightened up and cupped his mouth, letting out a deep, long belch.

"Uhm," he groaned, swallowing the sick taste back down, "okay, we can go."

Vince squinted at him, then gestured for the waiter, "Liz, can you get me a bag, please?"

Lucas couldn't even be offended, he wasn't feeling well at all. He waited until Liz came back with an empty bag and Vince took it, along with his pie, getting up with a grunt and staggering as his gravity center shifted.

"C'mere, let me help you up," Vin sighed, offering a hand to Lucas and pulling him to his feet, "try not to toss your cookies, please."

"Doing my best," Luke mumbled, getting up and basically collapsing against Vince. He muffled a burp against his best friend's shoulder and shuddered, a shiver running down his spine, "let's go."

Once they arrived to the car, Vince got in the driver's seat and threw him the bag, "keep it close, just in case."

Luke nodded, lowering his window and breathing in deeply. His stomach was churning something awful, feeling hot and bubbly. Every time he moved, he could feel his meal at the base of his throat. His pants were squeezing him, despite the fact he had pushed them down already.

Vince wasn't even attempting to talk, he was rubbing his own stomach with the hand not on the steering wheel and burping quietly, occasionally glancing his friend's way.

Lucas leaned back, closing his eyes as he felt his stomach churn again. His belly let out a sad, loud whine and Vince whistled, "that sounded nasty."

"It's so fucking upset," Luke nodded, rubbing his belly in circles. It was taut and warm to the touch. The smallest amount of pressure caused a gurgle to sneak up and he rushed to cup his mouth, thinking he was going to be sick, but it was just a wet belch.

"Lucas, use the bag," Vin poked his thigh, "c'mon, man-"

"Not gonna hurl," he mumbled, but opened the bag and hovered over it, spitting the nasty salty saliva, "not gonna lie..." he burped again, "kinda happy this is the last football season."

Vince let out a hum, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, "I guess..." he didn't sound sad or happy, just pensive about it, "we don't have to stop playing together, right?"

"Of course not," Lucas said, then spat again, letting out a moan, "Vin, I feel disgusting."

"Do you need me to pull over?"

"I don't wanna be sick," Luke shook his head, swallowing in a bunch of times, "I can't waste the calories."

"Okay, try leaning back," Vince said, then shifted on the driver's seat, holding the steering wheel with his left hand instead of the right one. Then with his free hand he pushed Luke's shirt up and planted the large palm of his hand over the bloated belly, "try burping."

"Are you rubbing my gut?" Luke frowned, thumping on his chest to get an airy burp out. Vince shrugged, wincing when that caused his own stomach to complain.

"Wendy does that for me and it helps a lot."

"No, I know it helps." Lucas said, belching again and leaning his head closer to the window, so the wind could dissipate the horrible smell of his dinner, "it's just you doing it, that's all."

Vince paused the rubbing, raising his eyebrows, "I can stop?"

"No," Lucas groaned, pressing his hand back down, "no, it's fine. It's helping a little."

And it was helping. At least the burps were coming up a little easier, although the smell and the act of burping was making him feel clammy and nauseous. He groaned as Vince hit a pothole on the road and caused his dinner to jump to his mouth. Lucas belched, wetly, and leaned over the bag, being attacked by a gagging fit.

Faintly he heard Vince apologizing and removing his hand, so he could rub his back instead and Luke moaned, spitting again, but not puking, "...fuck me," he whined, "that felt nasty."

"I'm sorry, I'm gonna watch the road," Vin sounded like he had accidentally dropped his favorite sandwich. The mental image caused Lucas to groan and burp again, spitting another mouthful of thick saliva that he knew if he swallowed back down was going to be a huge mistake.

Finally he saw Vince turn the corner of his street, passing by the decoration store they used as landmark. He was so close, he could cry.

Bell's car was parked on the front and the living room lights were on, bleeding out of the closed curtains. Lucas groaned as he realized he'd have to get up, "ugh, thanks for the ride, Vin... Keep the car, I can stop by your work tomorrow to pick it up."

"You sure?" Vince frowned, "I can get an uber home, it's okay. The dorms aren't far-"

"Nah, it's fine," Lucas sighed, rubbing his face and tugging his pants back up, "see you tomorrow for lunch...?" he belched sickly at the idea and Vince opened an amused smile.

"Don't forget to set up the alarm for your 3 AM shake."

Lucas gagged at the thought, "kill me."

[mother-of-frogs]

MTR Dinner Headcanon

• Lucille, Franny and Art are pretty much the best at cooking.

• Being an Italian-American mom, Franny cooks hearty meals that are packed with carbs and protein.

• Art regularly bakes the desserts, usually pie and cheesecake.

• They have their own specialties, Lucille has her homemade cookies, Franny has her spaghetti and meatballs and Art has his Pizzas and Meatloaf.

• Lucille has her own special recipe for German Chocolate Cake and Salted Caramel Custard.

• They’re willingly to give Carl and Lefty a break from cooking every once in a while.

• Billie loves to help out with dinner preparation.

• Wilbur gets scolded by Franny for trying to sneak a piece of dessert before dinner.

• Laszlo and Tallulah aren’t allowed to be in the kitchen after they ruined dinner once during one of their many sibling fights.

• Gaston is also not allowed to be in the kitchen especially since he’s very trigger-happy around meatballs.

• Leftovers in the Robinsons House usually just means food that is still intact on the dining room table during food fights.

• Cornelius sometimes arrives late from work and he gets to peacefully enjoy that day’s leftovers without any of the usual dinner chaos.

• Cornelius installed an addition seat in the dining room for when Mike comes to visit whenever he’s in town.

[vivaciousdomo]

Vegan BG3

I've been doing a vegan play through of BG3. Like, I'm still a durge, and evil, but I try not to kill animals, and I don't consume meat or cheese. Is anyone else doing this? Any mods to add more vegan items? Also, am I missing the beans? Ye olde europe would have eaten a bunch of beans, right? How do I get protein if no beans?

List of Vegan Foods

apple/half eaten apple

bagel

baguette

banana (how is this in in europe?)

bread/stale bread

cabbage

carrot

courgette

fragrant fungus stew

garlic

glow cap mushroom

good berry

grapes (green/purple)

gruel

horseradish

kiwi

lemon

lettuce

mushroom soup

onion

onion soup

orange

pale mint

pear

potato/boiled potato

potato porridge

pumpkin soup

pumpkin

raspberry

red pepper

sourdough bread

split pea soup

sun melon/half a sun melon

sweet potato

vegetable broth

walnut

(I accidentally ate the supply pack, but it has cured meats in it and "smells distinctly of smoked ham", so I won't make that mistake again. Let's just say Lae'zel ate them 🤷 Also can't eat the berry tart because it's got butter in it.)

Maybe Vegan?

biscuit (seems to be an oatmeal raisin which can be made vegan)

everything soup (description is "named for the halfling tradition of frantically raiding the pantry or garden upon the unexpected arrival of a guest")

puff pastry braid (unsure if butter was used here)

sunflower seed bun (unsure if has butter)

treacle tart (maybe butter?)

Drinks

amnian dessert wine

arkhen's hoard (wine?)

ashaba dusk (wine)

baldur's grape (wine)

blackstaff

barrel-aged callidyrran (…whisky? rum?)

carafe of wine

chultan fireswill (wine)

common table wine

eigersstor noblerot (??? probably vegan?)

esmeltar red

highsun liqueur

ithbank (wine)

mermaid whiskey

mug of beer/pitcher of beer

plum fizz (wine?)

port sherry

rolling deck rum

tyche pink (rose?)

wine (regular wine???)

Non alcoholic drinks

the water from the well outside the Hag's house (can't bottle and carry in your pack though and maybe has dead human bodies given the smell 🤔)

health potions? (can't long rest with them tho :<)

tea

coffee

I'll update this if/when I find other vegan foods and drinks, for your RP pleasure.

I'd also be so down to try and make a vegan bg3 cookbook. I know the lady with the big pot of gruel says she can't find salt easily, so maybe easy on the salt, but we have garlic and onion, so we have at least some flavor 🤔 oh, and there's a red pepper, so we can have some spice, maybe. brb, starting a Vegan Baldur's Gate 3 cookbook?

[lostfracturess]

About s&c gojo, what’s his favorite food?

gojo's taste is probably as extreme as he is, lol. this man got no chill when it comes to food. like, he's got a sweet tooth of course, especially when it comes to japanese desserts. think dangos, taiyaki, and mochi. but he's also into spicy food, like mapo tofu or tantanmen, no doubt.

despite being a doctor and all, knowing the importance of a balanced diet, he tries to keep it healthy with those leafy greens and lean proteins. he even whips up those green smoothies in the morning, packed with all the micro-nutrients you can think of.

but after a long shift at the hospital, all he craves is the greasiest, most disgustingly delicious pizza known to man. like, the kind that would make any cardiologist shed a tear.

[peachybutch]

How Good the RvB Main Cast is at Cooking, Ranked from Best to Worst

1. Donut

Donut gives off the vibe of one of those gay men with a baking channel on YouTube. This man's out here rolling up to the red team monthly dinner club with frenched rack of lamb with a pistachio mint crust and wine accompaniment, then earl grey souffle with creme anglaise for dessert. He spends hours experimenting with new and interesting ingredients. Remy Ratatouille, send-you-back-to-rural-France ass man. Donut's food fucks hard and everyone knows it.

2. Grif

You really think my man Grif loves food as much as he does and doesn't know how to make it? C'mon. He doesn't, like, relish the act of cooking as much as he does having a good plate of food at the end of it. And he's not typically much for sharing. But my guy makes a damn good short rib and bechamel lasagna. Give him the day to let something slow cook, and god damn.

3. Wash

Wash has been living off of MREs for probably his entire adult life, but I feel like he's got a few dishes he can whip out for a date night, or if he's feeling fancy. He knows how to read a recipe, and he has a pretty good idea of what flavors go together to make something good. He probably has a really nice papardelle with vinho verde sauce that he has sitting around in the back of his head for special occasions.

4. Tucker

Okay, Tucker isn't a bad cook by any means, ok? He's great with breakfast food specifically. It's just that he isn't especially fancy about it. He was probably, like, a line cook at Denny's in high school, so all his food tastes like food you would get at Denny's. Which isn't a bad thing! You would just never call Denny's "fine dining". He has his niche, and he does it well, and he never feels even a little bit inclined to do anything different or better.

5. Church (Alpha)

Church isn't much of a foodie right off the bat, but someone's got to pack Caboose's lunch, and he ends up learning how to cook fairly well after that. After a certain point, he figures out how to make things from scratch--mostly things like chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, pancakes.

6. Simmons

I feel like Simmons mostly lives off of shit like green smoothies and homemade granola. Like, hardcore, low carb, vegan, all organic, high protein diet. And, like, it doesn't taste BAD. But it definitely isn't the kind of thing you bring to the red team dinner club. He does make a really nice sunbutter brownie that he has to hide from Grif.

7. Caboose

Caboose has been banned from using any objects in the kitchen that involve a heat source--which isn't HIS fault! How was he supposed to know that you're supposed to take the spoon OUT of the mac and cheese before putting it in the microwave? That's just a recipe for a cold spoon! Anyways, he manages just fine without the microwave, thank you very much. He can make ants on a log like it's nobody's business. Cleaning up afterwards is another matter entirely.

8. Carolina

Carolina is one of the most competent individuals you will ever meet. She could kill you in under a minute, in 30 different ways, and that's just with her bare hands. The fourth time Sarge tries to recruit her into red team is by inviting her to the monthly dinner club. She shows up empty handed, and when Donut very politely asks what she brought, she replies that it's very interesting that they expected the only woman on the team to go all out with cooking. They move on. Carolina spent 5 hours in the kitchen this afternoon trying to figure out how to use the oven. But they don't need to know that.

9. Tex

Now, listen. Tex can't be called a bad cook, precisely, because that would require she cook for herself or others. Which is something she does not do. That's what Church is for, isn't it?

10. Sarge

Sarge refuses to step foot in a kitchen after the fifth shouting match about how flamethrowers are not a universally recognized kitchen appliance.

11. Church (Epsilon)

One time, while blue team is shooting the wind, Caboose asks Epsilon what his favorite breakfast food is. Instead of calling Caboose a dumbass, as per usual, he instead goes into extensive detail about how he eats computer keys like cereal. Caboose tries it. It isn't very good.

[kkimura]

今回は、私の体型維持には欠かせない一品、小麦粉や砂糖を使わないオートミールケーキのレシピを皆さんとシェアしたいと思います！　(今回はあの方登場するのか?!) 🤔

タンパク質、ビタミン、食物繊維が豊富で、さらにりんご🍎やバナナ🍌の自然な甘みとブルーベリー🫐の酸味が合わさってめちゃくちゃ美味しいので、是非作ってみて下さい！食べ応えかなりあり！(よければ👍ボタン、コメント、チャンネル登録お願いします！💕)

This is how I stay in shape… I’m pretty sure.

I eat this oatmeal cake (no flour, no sugar) instead of buttery sugary desserts after dinner or even for breakfast. It’s packed with protein, vitamin and fiber with a natural sweetness from apple and banana.

Hope you enjoy the video and share, like and subscribe to my channel for more new delicious recipes! 💕( if you just want to see Kitty, also welcome! ☺️)

[mysticstarlightduck]

Q&A QUESTION!

Firstly: Love your cast from Supernova Initiative.

Secondly, and this is my classic thing that I ask everyone: What's up with the food in your WIP? What do people eat? How do they get food? How is it shaped by the cultures?

(I love food and geopolitics, so this is my life. I'm sorry. I hope this isn't too much XDDDD)

Hii!! Thank you so much for the ask, @amaiguri!!! And don't worry, this isn't too much at all!!! I adore these kinds of questions and I myself love creating intricate details for my WIPs' cultures, politics, and worlds (and I love rambling about those details lmao)!

Also, I'm super glad you liked the cast of this WIP! If you want to ask something about the team or about any particular character, you're also more than welcome (and encouraged) to!

So let's get to it!

What's up with the food in your WIP? What do people eat? How do they get food? How is it shaped by the cultures?

Man, this is such an AMAZING question! I love it!

There are so many different planets and cultures in this WIP and thus there are many different kinds of food/diets as well, many being specific to certain settings and to the biology of different alien species! Let's go over some of the three main ones!

In Cethea III, which is a downtrodden mining settlement that is also one of the most crime-ridden places in the galaxy, abundance is not something that is a part of the day-to-day lives of most of that moon's inhabitants. Most food there comes from cheap, greasy diners or shady restaurants scattered around the settlements, though miners often receive weekly packets of rations from the mining companies they work for (though those rations are awfully tasteless and are more of a "last resort" for many).

As for what are the most common dishes in Cethea III:

Dried fish stick sandwiches and hot chocolate made with milk powder (this is the favorite dish of the main trio of this story - Jack, Deimos, and Cassie - as it was an affordable and tasty meal that was also a very good source of energy).

Fried pocked cheese tarts (a common snack present in most of the many greasy diners in the settlements, these tarts often come in considerable portions, packaged in a simple cardboard box).

Prairie rodent roast (the dusty, desert-like prairies of this moon are crawling with packs of medium-sized, hare-looking rodents that are often hunted by the population as a free source of game meat for roasts and stews. Some people also dry the rodent meat to make it last for longer and to make "beef jerky" out of it)

Glow-Slug Pudding (by far the most... concerning and rather disgusting dish in this moon's culinary culture, is an expensive dessert enjoyed in some of the few more high-brow and "fancy" establishments of this moon. The appearance of this pudding depends on the color of the slugs used in its mix, often having a glowing, neon look to it in various shades of purple, pink, and deep blue. Some of these puddings are cooked and served cold, but some versions of it are raw and include living slugs- the latter being even more expensive and considered a delicacy. Most of the main cast of this book has never tasted this dessert and even now that they can afford it they consider it far too disgusting to be edible. And honestly, I think they're right lol)

In Ivion, which is a giant ice planet that Cethea III orbits, the cities sprawl underground, and are vast places built out of pitch-black stone. The original inhabitants of this planet, the Zatrian people, have a large carnivore diet - while they technically are omnivores, their diets require a much larger protein intake than that of other humanoid species. They are skilled hunters, and many Zatrians have evolved to have keener eyesight and hearing in order to be able to track their gigantic prey fast without risking prolonged exposure to the cold of the planet's surface, making them even deadlier at marksmanship.

The most common dishes in Ivion:

Intricate, meat-based dishes, with strong condiments and often a vibrant appearance. Those dishes vary from different kinds of stews, roasts, soups, and fillets, often being served extremely hot, and fresh from the oven. A single portion of those dishes is often so vast/abundant that it can feed at least a dozen people with ease.

Boiling Frostberry (a common drink that has a staple deep blue color with glittery swirls. It has a sweet yet tangy taste and as the name implies is typically to be drunk hot. This juice/beverage can both be served as a celebratory drink as well as a day-to-day beverage for all walks of life and is known for providing an astounding amount of warmth, as the berries have a capability to warm the body from within and are impossible to freeze)

Burrow-Wyrm Eggs (often harvested from Burrow-Wyrm nests during a specific season of the year - Burrow-Wyrms have hundreds of giant eggs per mating season, and the Zatrians often only poach around 5-10 eggs or so per year - these eggs are boiled then roasted over a fire with a strongly spicy pepper. Reserved for special occasions, those astoundingly large eggs (they're as big as two basketballs stacked onto each other), are a part of the traditional Zatrian diets and are only consumed in new-years festivals and coming-of-age ceremonies)

In Stryxus, the bustling dwarf planet known for its sprawling tropical fungal forests and also for being the home to some of the most dangerous crime families in the whole Khosmonian Galaxies has many different cultures that cohabitate within its sandy-colored cities, thus having many different culinary traditions spread evenly throughout the small planet.

The most common dishes on this dwarf planet:

A lot of the dishes on this planet are mushroom or fungi-based, as is to be expected of a dwarf planet that contains the largest fungal forests in the system. Mushrooms of all kinds are used in a variety of dishes, ranging from savory salads, roasts, barbecues, and even sandwiches, serving as the main source of protein for the population of this planet, both rich and poor. Sweet fungi are also a common ingredient for local desserts, especially cupcakes, puddings, and some varieties of ice cream.

This planet is also known for its sprawling cantinas and saloons, having some of the most varied alcoholic beverages, from common drinks like wine, beers, and specific brands of whiskey, to rarer, more exotic drinks that are only found and brewed on this planet, often using some rare fungi as a basis for the fermentation process, which grants theses neon colored, bubbling drinks an extremely rare taste and a varied range of appearances.

Swamp Fowls are abundant in Stryxus, and thus are a common ingredient for roasted sticks and nugget-like delicacies enjoyed by both young and old in the planet's pubs and restaurants.

I hope you enjoy the answer! Once more, thanks for the ask, and feel free to ask many more if you so wish to!

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Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[forkfulofflavor]

Pumpkin Protein Muffins Ingredients: 1 1/2 cups gluten-free rolled oats 1/2 cup vanilla protein powder (50g) 1 teaspoon baking soda 1/2 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspoon sea salt 2 teaspoons pumpkin spice seasoning 3/4 cup canned pumpkin (100% pure, not pie filling) 3 eggs 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 3 tablespoons maple syrup 1/4 cup coconut oil, melted 1/2 cup dark chocolate chips (use dairy-free for a vegan option) Directions: Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C). Grease a muffin tin or line it with silicone liners. Set aside. In a blender, add all ingredients except the chocolate chips: oats, protein powder, baking soda, baking powder, salt, pumpkin spice, pumpkin purée, eggs, vanilla extract, maple syrup, and melted coconut oil. Blend on high until the oats are finely ground and the mixture is smooth. Stir in the chocolate chips. Divide the batter evenly among 12 muffin cups, filling each about 3/4 full. Sprinkle extra chocolate chips on top if desired. Bake for 15 minutes or until golden brown and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Let the muffins cool in the pan for 10-15 minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely. Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cooking Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 25 minutes Kcal: 220 kcal per muffin | Servings: 12 muffins These Pumpkin Protein Muffins are the perfect blend of fall flavors and healthy ingredients. Packed with protein from oats and protein powder, they make a great breakfast or snack option that keeps you full and energized. The addition of dark chocolate chips provides a decadent, rich touch that complements the warm spices of pumpkin. These muffins are quick to make and ideal for meal prep. Whether you're looking for a grab-and-go breakfast or a healthy dessert, these gluten-free and dairy-free muffins will satisfy your cravings while fueling your day. Enjoy the cozy flavors of fall in every bite!

[im-not-even-sorry]

Oughhhhg i have been to skinny since i beat my addiction(yay) i would love to get fed by you til im back to my normal weight(even maybe surpass it)

First of all, congrats on beating your addition!! That's a huge success!!

Second, I love feedees that start out skinny ❤️ I'd dote on you, cook you homemade meals, balanced with protein, fat and veg, with dessert afterwards. At first you'd have to take your time to finish your portions or you wouldn't be able to do that at all, but don't worry! I'll be there to whisper gentle praise into your ear, rub you full tummy and maybe feed you the last few bites by hand, how about that, baby?

I want to make you used to the warmth fullness in your stomach, to the slightly sleepy feeling you get after that, maybe when I fed you a bittt too much sugar in packes and cream and fruit and chocolate...

I'd make sure you can always reach out for a snack when you feel like it, being it nuts or a protein bar or a bag of crisps, whatever you feel like! The more calories you get from snacking, the easier it'll be to see the results of our work.

Maybe every once a week or two we'll put you on a scale or measure your pretty body here and there, note the progress and set out new goals, that for some reason, get progressively easier to reach with your newfound appetite.

You clothes start fitting like they used to before, hugging your curves and softness till they start getting... tight? Your shirt awkwardly rides up after I fed you unholy amouts of pizza on a weekend night, but I assure you that fine, baby, I love it when you let yourself indulge! You can't pull on your jeans that used to fit before, but that's only an item, that can be exchanged for a bigger size, don't worry.

I'll take care of you so well you won't even realize exactly when your cute little belly develops adorable muffin tops by your sides and when your tighs start deliciously rubbing together.

I'd love feeling you heavier on my lap, mapping the newfound growth with my hands and lips, admiring how far we've come together.

Are you in for more, darling? ❤️

[cloudbattrolls]

Unsightly

Hazard Ailaht | Selatak | Present Night

Hazard tried not to breathe too deeply as he knocked on the door to Lizzie’s hive. It was a nice place - somewhat deeper in Selatak than his, but not too far the edge of the city. Luckily it had a train stop nearby; he hadn’t had to walk far to get here.

She opened it almost immediately, teal eyes serious.

“Get in.” She said, voice restrained, purposefully not full of bile directed not at the blueblood in front of her, but the one whose genetics he shared. 

He’d warned her, of course. Sometimes he was lucky, sometimes he wasn’t; always he went to see Lizzie after it happened.

He stepped through the door carefully, trying not to do anything that put pressure on his bruised ribs or stomach.

It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. The best he ever got off was a sharp prod in his gut or a light smack that satisfied his ancestor, the worst was…well, better to just focus on now.

Goh Tat knew how far he could push his descendant without fear of retaliation, so long as he didn’t touch the library.

Hazard hated Goh Tat for it. He hated himself for not fighting back.

Lizzie held his large hand gently in her smaller one, leading him to the spare room she usually used to treat him as they both sat down on its large bed. He sat down gingerly and the tealblood helped him take his shirt off - the only person he would undress around, who had seen his battered body enough times that he didn’t care anymore.

She already had ice packs and soothing creams waiting; she knew what to expect. At least nothing was broken, or sprained.

He gave her a weak, grateful smile as she tended to him - Lizzie, too, was the only person he willingly showed his teeth around.

She wasn’t really a medic. In a way he was sorry she was the one he always went to, always leaned on, but she never complained - they both knew what could happen if he went to a regular docterrorist. 

Any bloodwork, any sort of tissue sample, and he was cooked. His secret would be out.

“Thanks.” He said with a sigh as she carefully brought him relief, cooling down his bruises and putting cream on them to help them heal faster and ease the aches. 

She was silent for a moment. “What was it this time?”

“What do you think?” He muttered with grim humor. “He spied on my future a few nights ago and realized I’d have gained a little weight when he saw me. Six pounds. I’d noticed, but I was hoping he wouldn’t. Stupid, really.” 

He closed eyes.

“I should’ve known better than to accept Karell and Viltau’s food.” He muttered. “I do know better, I…”

He put a hand over his face. Better than looking at his stomach, mottled with dark blotches of pain. His large, soft stomach that Goh Tat disdained so much.

“Stop it.” Lizzie said sharply as he dropped his hand in surprise. “What should you know better? Being unable to help that you like to eat? Would you tell me to know better?”

She put her hands on her own soft hips, having never been skinny.

He chuckled weakly. “You’d tell me to go to hell.”

She nodded in satisfaction.

“You’re fat, Hazard.” She said briskly. “You probably always will be, for several reasons. You can do your best to eat healthy, but let’s be honest - you usually don’t even have enough to fill up.”

He sighed. 

”I eat enough…” he said, trailing off.

“You eat a bunch of things that would make you full if you were a giant rabbit.” She said pointedly. “It’s no wonder you crave what your friends are giving you.”

“I don’t think I need four meals a day like my body tries to tell me I do.” He grumbled. “Waste of time.”

She had to laugh at that as he laid back . “No.” She agreed. “You don’t. But you need to have more protein and carbs already. Some sugar too that isn’t just from fruits. For your emotional well-being.” She said with a studious nod.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem.” He muttered. “Not with Viltau and Karell tempting me with desserts left and right. I know exactly where those six pounds came from.”

Lizzie snorted and flicked at his hair. He poked her belly in retaliation.

“Trying to give me matching bruises?” She retorted.

He smiled a bit crookedly. “No.” 

She ruffled his hair again, but more fondly as her expression became more solemn.

“We really are trapped, aren’t we.” She said softly. “He has all the legal avenues covered. He pays off the recruiters. He can see the future. Oh, Hazard…I don’t want you to live like this forever, but what can we do?”

Teal tears gathered in his best friend’s eyes.

Hazard couldn’t find any within him. He’d cried when he was younger, for nights and nights after Bohaai had died.

He’d barely cried since. It was as if that one death had dried him out.

“I don’t know.” He said, staring at the light gray wall, eyes flicking across the abstract art paintings Lizzie loved.

“He killed my lusus right in front of me. We both know the lengths he’ll go to.”

Lizzie sniffed, crying a bit more.

“Hazard…do you ever miss her?”

“Not really.” He said honestly. “It’s not that I didn’t love her, but…I feel like she belongs to who I used to be. The girl I was before…well.”

Now he had Bohaai’s lusus, and it was a miracle the scorpion-lizard had never seemed to resent him for the switch. Instead he had accepted the new Ailaht readily, as if nothing was wrong.

“I guess that makes sense.” Lizzie said quietly, wiping away her tears. 

Her own mother, a cockroach-mouse, came into the room and jumped on the bed, nuzzling her daughter.

She nuzzled Hazard’s arm too, and he smiled slightly.

“Let’s watch something.” He said, nodding at the room’s big TV. “Anything you want.”

“Anything?” She said, with somewhat watery enthusiasm.

“Anything that’s not game shows.” He clarified.

She pretended to pout. “You have no love in your heart.”

“Nope.” He agreed blithely.

She snorted softly at him and took the remote out of her sylladex to turn on a lighthearted sitcom instead.

Hazard closed his eyes, letting the silly dialogue wash over him, arm around Lizzie as she settled in next to him, but not too close - his bruises would be tender for a bit.

He didn’t know if they’d ever get out from under Goh Tat’s thumb. He wasn’t even sure if it was possible.

Right now, all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment, listening to his best friend laugh.