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engeorged · 3 months ago

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The Weight of the Stars

Interstellar travel wasn’t quite what humanity thought it would be. Clouded by the prophecies of Star Trek, it was thought that faster than light travel would bring us together, bring enlightenment to our race.

In the year 2423, Earth was a shadow of its former self. Overpopulation, pollution, and resource scarcity had driven humanity to the brink of collapse. The once-blue planet was now a crowded, smog-choked sphere, its cities sprawling and suffocating under the weight of billions.

Advances in propulsion technology allowed humanity to reach distant stars, offering the promise of new beginnings on far-flung colonies. However, the journey to these new worlds was fraught with peril and the civilian flights reserved only for the hyper rich

Hypersleep, the only viable method for enduring the long voyages, had a grim flaw: it often killed those who attempted it. The most common issue was the failure of the feeding apparatus during hypersleep, which would cause the sleeper to atrophy from starvation. Through relentless experimentation, scientists discovered that weight gain before hypersleep significantly increased the chances of survival. The extra weight provided a critical buffer, allowing the sleeper to survive on their fat reserves if the feeding apparatus failed.

As the flights became cheaper and more affordable, a new wave of emigration was started. This led to a new societal norm—people seeking passage to other worlds had to gain substantial weight, with the amount depending on the distance to the destination. Closer colonies required an increase of 50 pounds, while the farthest outposts demanded a daunting 150 to 200 pounds. As a result, one's potential for exploration was measured not by intellect or skill, but by the ability to gain weight.

Cassian Reyes, a 27-year-old engineer, dreamed of escaping the confines of Earth. His target was Epsilon Prime, a promising colony located in a distant star system. More importantly it meant he would be lightyears away from his family. Epsilon four was one of the furthest away colonies and so the journey required a weight gain of 162 pounds, a challenge that seemed both daunting and surreal.

Cassian had always been lean, his physique a product of years spent working in the physically demanding environment of urban infrastructure maintenance. Yet, the dream of Epsilon Prime drove him to drastic measures. He had six months to transform his body, to pack on the pounds that would grant him a ticket to the stars.

Cassian Reyes stood before the mirror, his reflection revealing a body sculpted by years of physical labor. His Mediterranean heritage was evident in his olive-tanned skin, which stretched taut over a muscular frame. Thick, dark hair covered his chest and arms, complementing the stubble that framed his strong jawline. His pecs were well-defined, leading down to a flat, toned abdomen. His biceps and shoulders were broad, a testament to his strength and dedication to his work. Cassian's rugged, handsome features and powerful build often drew admiring glances, though his eyes betrayed a longing for something more—a dream of the stars. As he considered the journey ahead, he felt a twinge of hesitation about gaining the necessary weight. However, the prospect of exploring new worlds and fulfilling his dream made him believe it was worth the sacrifice.

Cassian began his journey by meticulously gathering as much food as his credits could afford, stockpiling it in his small apartment. Once a week, he indulged in a blowout feast, consuming as much as he could in one sitting. The first few attempts were gruelling, his body not accustomed to such excessive intake. He felt uncomfortable and sluggish, the strain on his stomach palpable. However, as weeks passed, he noticed the scale creeping up, a few pounds at a time. The incremental gains spurred him on, and he started to embrace the stuffings. Each week, he found himself looking forward to the ritual, savouring the sensation of his belly growing fuller and more distended with every bite. The initial discomfort gave way to a strange satisfaction, a tangible sign of his commitment to reaching Epsilon Prime.

Cassian stood before the mirror, his eyes tracing the subtle but noticeable changes in his physique. The ten pounds he had gained were evident in the slight increase of his once sharply defined abs, now slightly more pronounced and protruding. His muscular chest and arms retained their definition, but with a new, heavier presence. The weight gain was most apparent in his midsection, where his belly now had a firm bulge, pushing out against his waistband. He ran a hand over the new curve, feeling the solid mass beneath his skin. It was a strange, yet oddly satisfying transformation. The extra weight made him look more solid, more substantial. He marvelled at how his body was adapting to the challenge, a blend of his former muscularity and a new, burgeoning bulk that hinted at the journey still to come.

One evening, determined to see some progress, Cassian managed to get access to a large quantity of high-calorie food from a friend who worked in food management for a mega prison nearby. Over the course of a weekend, he stuffed himself relentlessly, consuming mountains of pasta, gallons of protein shakes, and endless desserts. His muscular belly, usually flat and firm, swelled painfully as he forced down every last bite. By the end of Sunday, his stomach was taut, distended and bloated, a heavy round mass that left him groaning in discomfort.

Late Monday evening after dealing with the aftermath of his binge all day, he stepped on the scale with high hopes, only to be disappointed by the small change. He had gained a mere half-pound. Frustration welled up inside him as he realised how slow and gruelling this process would be.

The streets of New York, now a sprawling megacity, were filled with advertisements promoting weight-gain programs and clinics specialising in rapid weight augmentation. Billboards displayed smiling families, all noticeably overweight, with slogans like "Pack on Pounds, Reach New Worlds!" Society had adapted quickly to this new reality, with restaurants offering hyper-caloric meals and gyms designed to minimise calorie burn.

Cassian walked past a clinic that promised rapid weight gain through advanced medical techniques. He paused, considering the possibility. He had heard stories of people who had tried these clinics with mixed results. Some swore by their effectiveness, while others spoke of painful procedures and lasting side effects.

After inquiring about the cost, Cassian was disheartened. The clinic's services were prohibitively expensive, far beyond his current means. Determined to make it to Epsilon Prime, he decided to take a risk and to save his credits. For the next few months, he ate sparingly, diverting most of his resources toward the clinic's fee rather than extra food.

Desperate for support, Cassian attended a meeting of "The Weight Gainers' Society," a group for individuals aiming to gain the necessary weight for interstellar travel. The group was a diverse mix of people—engineers, scientists, adventurers—all united by their goal to reach new colonies. Meetings were a blend of motivational talks, shared tips on weight gain, and emotional support.

Dr. Tanaka, a renowned scientist and leader of the group, addressed the attendees. "Remember, what we're doing isn't just for ourselves. We're pioneers. Our sacrifice paves the way for future generations. Every pound gained brings us closer to new horizons."

Cassian couldn't help but notice the physical transformations of the men around him. Their bellies ballooned noticeably, stretching their shirts to the limit. Some men were so swollen they had to adjust their seating positions frequently, their faces flushed from the effort. The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the occasional groan as another attendee shifted uncomfortably.

Cassian walked over to a chair, feeling remarkably thin in amongst these men, took a seat among the other participants. The chairs creaked under their combined weight, the air thick with the scent of nutrient-rich food and the faint hum of the machines that had reshaped their bodies.

Around him were men at various stages of their transformations, each with a belly that told its own story of indulgence and necessity. To his left, a man with a belly so round and tight it looked almost spherical sat with his hands resting on the dome of his stomach. His skin was stretched taut, veins faintly visible under the surface, and his navel had flattened into a wide, shallow depression. The man shifted uncomfortably, his breath coming in shallow bursts as his belly pressed heavily against his lungs.

Across from him, another participant had a belly that was more sagging, hanging heavily over his waistband. The man’s thick torso was covered in hair, his chest and stomach blending into one massive, furry expanse. He leaned back slightly in his chair, allowing his gut to spill forward, giving it room to breathe. His fingers traced absent-minded patterns over the stretched skin, as if he were reassuring himself that it was still there, still growing.

Cassian noticed that one of the younger men in the group was struggling with his newfound bulk. His once muscular frame had been overtaken by a belly that jutted out sharply, high and firm, pressing hard against his shirt. The fabric strained with each breath, his stomach lifting and falling like a boulder rising from a well. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a mix of exertion and anxiety as he tried to adjust to the sheer mass he now carried.

Dr. Tanaka entered the room, his presence commanding attention. He looked over the group with a proud, almost paternal gaze. "Gentlemen," he began, "you’ve all made remarkable progress. But as you know, there’s always more to be done, more to push yourselves toward your goals."

The doctor stepped forward, wheeling in a large metal cart. On it were several massive jugs of a thick, creamy shake—each labelled "Gainer Fuel." The liquid inside was dense, nearly opaque, and sloshed heavily as the cart moved.

"Today, I want us to practise something a bit more intense," Dr. Tanaka announced with a slight grin. "You’ll each take one of these jugs—each holds about two gallons of a specially formulated gainer shake. The objective is simple: drink as much as you can, as quickly as you can. Feel the stretch, feel the expansion. This is more than just feeding; it’s about learning to manage and even embrace the discomfort."

The men exchanged glances, a mix of determination and trepidation in their eyes. Cassian grabbed one of the jugs, feeling its weight in his hands, and unscrewed the cap. The smell was rich, almost overpoweringly sweet, and he could feel his stomach tighten slightly in anticipation.

Dr. Tanaka watched as they began to drink. The room filled with the sounds of gulping, thick liquid being swallowed down thick necks, and the occasional groan as their bellies began to swell. Cassian felt the shake coat his throat, sliding down into his already full stomach. The sensation was intense—each gulp sent waves of pressure radiating through his gut, his belly expanding outward as it filled with the heavy liquid.

Around him, the other men were experiencing the same transformation. The man with the spherical belly gripped the sides of his stomach as it pushed out even further, the skin creaking audibly under the strain. His breathing grew heavier, but he continued to chug, determined to meet the challenge.

The hairy man across from Cassian let out a deep, guttural sigh as his belly began to swell even more, the shake filling every available space within him. His gut, already massive, seemed to take on a life of its own, spreading outwards, the thick hair on his torso only accentuating its size.

The younger man struggled with the task, his face flushed as he forced down mouthful after mouthful. His belly had grown painfully tight, jutting out in front of him like a heavy boulder. With every gulp, his shirt inched higher, revealing more of his distended, firm stomach.

Cassian’s own belly was rapidly approaching its limit, the skin stretched so tight that he could feel every pulse of his heartbeat resonating through it. The weight of the gainer shake settled heavily inside him, pushing his belly outward until it felt like it might burst. He could barely breathe, each inhalation shallow and strained as his stomach dominated his torso.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Tanaka signalled for them to stop. The room was filled with the sound of laboured breathing, belches, groans, and the creak of chairs as the men shifted uncomfortably, trying to accommodate their newly engorged bellies.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his enormous, taut gut. It was a solid, immovable mass, heavy and packed with the thick gainer shake. He could feel it sloshing slightly inside him, a slow, deep wave of pressure that made him wince with each movement. But despite the discomfort, there was a sense of accomplishment—a shared, unspoken pride in what they had just done.

The handsome doctor looked around the room, nodding approvingly. "Excellent work, everyone. This is the kind of commitment that will ensure your survival during hypersleep. Remember this feeling—the stretch, the fullness. Embrace it, because it means you’re on the right path."

As the session ended, Cassian and the others slowly made their way out, their bellies now impossibly large, each step a reminder of the weight they carried and the journey they were on.

After the meeting, Dr. Tanaka pulled Cassian aside. "Cassian, I read your application and I can see that you’ve done well today, but I can tell the stress is wearing on you. I don’t normally do this but your story reminded me of my own and my relationship with my own family. There's a private clinic I know of, run by an old colleague of mine. His methods are... unconventional, but highly effective. I think it might be just what you need to reach your goal."

Cassian thanked him and took the contact information, feeling a mix of curiosity and trepidation. As he walked away the heaviness of his round gut and the sloshing of the shake began to make him feel pretty horny. This had been happening a lot lately and was a source of concern and pleasure. The prospect of being behind fed by this doctor stirred something in him he wasn’t entirely afraid of.

The address led Cassian to a nondescript building on the outskirts of the city. Inside, the clinic was surprisingly modern, with sleek, minimalist décor. He was greeted by a cheerful receptionist who directed him to the laboratory.

Dr. Felix Hargrove, a quirky man with wild hair and an infectious smile, welcomed him with enthusiasm. "Ah, you must be Cassian! Tanky told me you'd be coming. Follow me, I've got just the thing to help you reach your target weight."

Cassian followed Felix through a series of corridors, finally arriving at a large room dominated by a peculiar contraption. In the centre was a large tank filled with a pale purple gel that seemed to shimmer under the fluorescent lights.

"This," Dr. Hargrove announced with a flourish, "is my feeding machine. It leverages technology similar to hypersleep feeding apparatuses, ensuring optimal nutrient absorption with minimal physical discomfort. You'll be suspended in the gel, which contains micro-nutrients and anti-gravity properties to aid in weight gain. You'll be fed continuously through a tube."

Cassian eyed the machine warily. "It looks... intense."

Dr. Hargrove chuckled. "It's certainly unique, but I assure you, it's safe and incredibly effective. Just relax and let the machine do its work."

Having signed a mountain of paperwork, Cassian changed into a pair of tight-fitting boxers which left very little to the imagination. The lan tech told him that they were smart trunks, designed to monitor his vitals. He climbed the ladder and stepped into the tank, feeling the gel envelop his body with a cool, not unpleasant soothing sensation. Dr. Hargrove and his assistants lowered him slowly until he was suspended in the middle of the tank, his head remaining above the surface, held in place by a plank of wood his neck went through.

A thick silicone tube was gently inserted into his mouth, and he was hooked up to the feeding system above him. Cassian was surprised to feel a slight pressure almost immediately as the nutrient-rich mixture began to flow. The gel cradled his body, and he found it surprisingly easy to relax.

Dr. Hargrove monitored the readouts on a nearby console. "You're doing great, Cassian. Just let yourself drift and the machine will take care of the rest."

The machine whirred softly as the feeding process began. Cassian felt the cool, nutrient-rich fluid start to flow through the tube, sliding down his thick neck and into his stomach. The sensation was strange at first, almost unsettling, but he quickly adapted. The fluid was thick and rich, filling him up in a way that solid food never had.

As the minutes passed, he could feel his stomach expanding, the tight skin stretching to accommodate the growing volume. The sensation was both uncomfortable and oddly pleasurable, a deep, insistent pressure building in his midsection. He placed a hand on his belly, feeling the firm dome push outward, growing larger and rounder with each passing moment.

The machine’s rhythm became familiar, almost soothing, as it fed him every few hours. Cassian’s belly within days was already significantly rounded, expanded even further with each session. He could feel the fluid gushing down his throat, his thick neck flexing as it worked to accommodate the steady flow.

With each feeding, his stomach grew more distended, the skin stretching taut and firm. He watched in fascination as his once muscular abdomen transformed into a massive, solid globe. The pressure was intense, but he had come to enjoy the feeling of being so full, so heavy.

His stomach had become a swollen, firm dome, pushing out in all directions. He ran his hands over the tight skin, feeling the solid mass beneath. The pressure was almost unbearable at times, but it was a necessary part of his transformation. The gold flecks in the gel turned out to be nanites, as Cassian expected. When stretch marks appeared, the nanites activated, moving in a coordinated dance to heal them quickly. Though the process was not painless, it prevented long-term damage and ensured his body could continue to expand.

As hours turned into days, Cassian felt his body changing. The process was almost meditative, the constant hum of the machine and the rhythmic flow of nutrients lulling him into a state of near-sleep. He could feel the weight gradually adding to his frame, the gel working in tandem with the feeding tube to maximise his caloric intake..

Cassian floated in the tank, suspended in the pale purple gel. Every few hours, the machine administered a surge of nutrient-rich liquid through the tube in his mouth. As the liquid flowed into his stomach, Cassian felt a familiar sensation of fullness, quickly intensifying to discomfort. His belly expanded visibly, stretching to accommodate the influx of calories. His stomach ballooned painfully, growing rounder and tighter with each feeding. He clenched his fists, muscles tensing as his stomach swelled, the skin stretching taut and shiny.

As days passed, the frequency of the feedings increased, with surges of nutrients coming every hour. Cassian's belly ballooned further, each feeding session leaving him more stretched and full. The feeling was both uncomfortable and strangely exhilarating as he watched his body transform.

His stomach became a large expanding sphere, protruding dramatically from his body. The nanites not only healed his stretch marks but also increased his muscle mass to help him carry his new bulk. His legs thickened, his pecs and arms grew more defined, and a dense layer of hair covered his chest and stomach, adding to his transformed appearance.

Cassian could feel the weight of his belly pulling at his skin, the tightness making each breath a conscious effort. The gel continued to work its magic, ensuring his body could handle the rapid expansion. By the end of the week, Cassian's belly was a massive, round dome, stretched to its limits.

After a fortnight it was time for Cassian to come out. The gel drained away slowly, revealing Cassian’s body inch by inch as he was raised from the tank. The pale purple substance slid off his skin, leaving it gleaming and taut. The nanites had done their job well, enhancing his muscle mass to support his increased weight, but it still felt alien to him. As the last of the gel receded, Cassian took a deep breath, eager to see the results. He felt heavier, more solid than ever before, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him—or the reaction of the technicians.

Gasps filled the room as the techs caught their first glimpse of him. Cassian looked down, his eyes widening in surprise and satisfaction. His body had transformed beyond what he had imagined. His once muscular frame was now dominated by a massive, firm belly that jutted out in front of him like a heavy, round boulder. His pecs were thicker, his arms and legs more robust, but it was his stomach that drew all the attention—an immense, taut dome that looked almost impossible on a human frame.

The technicians exchanged nervous glances, their expressions a mix of awe and concern. This was their first human experiment, and clearly, something had gone very right—or very wrong. One of the lead techs, a middle-aged man with thinning hair, stepped forward, his voice shaky as he spoke.

“Mr. Reyes, we, uh, seem to have exceeded the expected gain. We were aiming for a 75-pound increase, but… it appears we’ve overshot by quite a bit.”

Cassian ran his hands over his new bulk, feeling the solid, unyielding mass of his belly. The skin was stretched tight, not a hint of softness, and the sensation was everything he had hoped for. He couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across his face. This was exactly what he had wanted—more, even.

The techs were still in a state of shock, scrambling to figure out what had happened. “We—we were planning a second session to bring you up to the required weight, but it seems… well, it seems you’ve already surpassed that,” one of them stammered.

Cassian nodded, barely listening to their explanations. He didn’t care about the technical details; all that mattered was that he was ready—more than ready—for hypersleep.

“We did prepare some clothing for you,” another tech said, quickly wheeling over a rack of clothes. “But, um… they were sized for the expected gain, not… this.” He gestured helplessly at Cassian’s enormous belly.

Cassian grabbed the clothes anyway, eager to leave the lab and see how his new body felt in the outside world. The shirt and pants were absurdly tight, clearly made for someone much smaller than he had become. The shirt barely stretched across his broad chest, the fabric straining over his thickened muscles and barely making it halfway down his belly, which remained completely exposed. The pants were no better, fitting snugly around his thighs and hips but unable to button over his massive midsection.

The techs watched in a mix of horror and fascination as Cassian adjusted the clothes, unconcerned by their poor fit. They tried to offer apologies, explanations, and even suggestions to return for a more fitting session, but Cassian just shook his head, his grin widening.

“This is perfect,” he said, patting his enormous gut with a sense of pride. “Just what I needed.”

Ignoring their protests, he made his way out of the lab, his belly leading the way, completely exposed and unashamed. The too-small clothes clung to his expanded frame, accentuating every bulge and curve of his newfound bulk. Cassian walked with a newfound confidence, each step heavy with the weight of his transformation, knowing he was more than ready for the challenges that lay ahead.

His belly was an enormous, round mass of flesh, protruding dramatically from his body. The skin was tight and shiny, evidence of the rapid expansion it had undergone. Thick hair covered his chest and the top of his swollen stomach, giving him a rugged, almost primal appearance. His legs were thicker, his pecs more defined, and his arms bulkier, all contributing to the powerful image he now presented.

Returning to his small apartment, Cassian spent the next few days acclimating to his new body. He enjoyed the simple pleasures of exploration—running his hands over his swollen stomach, feeling the weight shift as he moved, and marvelling at the strength his enhanced muscles provided. Eating had become an entirely different experience; his appetite had grown, and he found himself savouring the sensation of fullness more than ever before.

The night before his departure, Cassian decided to spend every last credit he had on one final meal. He wanted to savour his last moments on Earth and push his body to its limits. He ventured out into the bustling night market, where street food vendors lined the streets with their exotic and enticing offerings.

Cassian started at a stall selling spicy grilled meats, devouring skewer after skewer. The flavours exploded in his mouth, and he could feel his belly beginning to swell. He moved on to a vendor offering rich, creamy pasta dishes. Each bite added to the growing pressure in his stomach, but he relished the sensation.

Next, he sampled a variety of dumplings, their savoury fillings adding to his already substantial meal. He continued, stall after stall, eating everything from fried insects to exotic fruits, his belly expanding further with each bite. The vendors watched in amazement as he consumed more food than they had ever seen one person eat.

As the night wore on, Cassian's belly grew painfully full, protruding even more prominently than before. The waistband of his pants dug into his flesh, and his shirt rode up higher, exposing more of his hairy, swollen stomach. He could feel the tightness of his skin, the fullness pushing against every inch of his belly.

By the time he returned home, he was completely maxed out. He stripped off his clothes and stood in front of the mirror, marvelling at his reflection. His stomach was a massive, round orb, shiny and taut. He ran his hands over it, feeling the immense pressure and the slight pain that came with being so full. He lay down on his bed, gently exploring his bloated belly, feeling the tightness and the way it stretched with every breath.

Cassian fell asleep with a sense of satisfaction, his body heavy and full, ready for the journey ahead.

The next morning Cassian packed his belongings and headed to the spaceport. He wore the loosest clothes he could find, but even they struggled to contain his bulk. His shirt barely covered his enormous belly, and his pants were tight around his thickened legs and waist.

At the spaceport, Cassian joined a crowd of similarly large passengers. They waddled through the terminal, their swollen forms a testament to their commitment to the journey ahead. Some wore specialised clothing designed to stretch with their expanding bodies, while others, like Cassian, struggled with ill-fitting garments.

As Cassian approached the boarding area, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He adjusted his shirt, trying to cover his exposed belly to no avail. The sight of his protruding stomach, hairy and round, was both a source of pride and a reminder of the sacrifices he had made.

Cassian stood before the hypersleep pod, holding the smart jumpsuit in his hands. It was made of a sleek, flexible material that shimmered slightly under the sterile lights of the preparation chamber. Designed to monitor vital signs and ensure maximum comfort during the long journey, the jumpsuit was equipped with advanced tech to conform to any body shape, but even the engineers behind it had probably never anticipated a form like Cassian’s.

He slipped one leg into the jumpsuit, then the other, feeling the fabric cool against his skin. The material was surprisingly elastic, stretching easily over his thickened thighs and muscled calves. As he pulled it up over his hips, the jumpsuit began to adjust, contouring to the curve of his lower belly. Cassian paused for a moment, looking at himself in the mirror, watching as the suit struggled to encompass his massive midsection.

With a determined tug, he pulled the jumpsuit the rest of the way up, guiding it over his round, protruding stomach. The fabric stretched taut over the dome of his belly, conforming to its firm, expansive shape. The material was advanced enough to adapt, but Cassian could feel the way it clung to his skin, snug and form-fitting, accentuating every inch of his new bulk. The suit’s sensors activated, and he could feel a faint vibration as they mapped out his body, ensuring a perfect fit, despite the extreme dimensions.

The jumpsuit sealed itself automatically at the front, a seamless line that ran from his chest down to just below his navel. It hugged his thick pecs, broad shoulders, and muscular arms, fitting them comfortably while still managing to accommodate the massive curve of his belly. The suit’s design was sleek, but there was no hiding the sheer size of his midsection; the fabric stretched so tight that every breath caused a slight ripple across its surface.

As he moved, the suit moved with him, the advanced materials adjusting to every shift, maintaining comfort and ensuring he was ready for the extended hypersleep. Cassian ran his hands over his belly, now encased in the smart jumpsuit, feeling the solid, reassuring mass beneath the high-tech fabric. The suit had conformed perfectly to his shape, but there was no mistaking the size of the man it was designed to protect.

He stepped toward the pod, each movement causing the jumpsuit to stretch and adjust, keeping his massive gut supported and secure. As he prepared to enter, Cassian felt a deep sense of satisfaction. The suit might have been designed for comfort, but it was his body that commanded attention—a testament to the journey he had already undergone, and the one that was yet to begin. Cassian climbed in, feeling the cool and familiar embrace of the gel as he settled into place.

As the pod's lid slowly closed, Cassian's mind wandered. He wondered about the journey ahead and what awaited him on Epsilon Prime. Would he arrive with his belly still swollen, or would the weight have been used up, leaving him lean once more? The uncertainty was both thrilling and terrifying.

The pod sealed shut, and the hypersleep process began. Cassian took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in his chest, and closed his eyes. The future was unknown, but he was ready to face it, no matter what form it took.

The ship's engines roared to life, and the stars blurred into streaks of light as the vessel leaped into hyperspace. Cassian drifted into a deep sleep, his mind filled with dreams of new worlds and endless possibilities.

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#gainer fiction #belly expansion #gay gainer #male gaining #stuffing #belly fiction #gainer stories #gainer story #stuffing art #feeding machine

113 notes · View notes

flippinpancakes64 · 5 months ago

Note

The cullens with reader who is taller than them by a lot and loves to pick them up because of it?

The Cullens with a reader who is taller than them

Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like this!

Edward:

In the books he is about 6'2 or 188 cm

In the movies he is about 6'0 or 185 cm

He's one of the taller Cullens in both iterations and he is definitely not used to someone being taller than him

Of course, we know he is a traditional man

So his partner being taller than him would freak him out a bit

But he would get over himself don't worry

You can't sneak up on him to pick him up tho

The whole mind reading thing tends to not let that happen

He wouldn't let you do it for a while

Just a touch insecure

But I feel like if you ask enough and really beg him for it he'll let you

And if he sees into your mind to know that your intentions are pure you just want to have some fun

Will swear up and down that he hates it

Secretly he doesn't tho

The only other one who has ever tried to pick him up was Emmett

And that was when they were wrestling and Emmett tried to throw him into next week

He'd never admit that he likes it

But he won't try so hard to stop you in the future

Alice:

In the books she is about 4'8 or 147 cm

In the movies she is about 5'2 or 160 cm

Either way it's not hard to be taller than her

She's not intimidated

She is the shortest Cullen hands down

She's used to it

I honestly feel like she might beat you to it

She sees you after a long day and just runs up into your arms

Her feet are fully off the ground while you're holding her

She wouldn't mind if you pick her up more either

It's her new favorite way to be greeted

Whether she's the one jumping up or you picking her up

She's not beating the tiny allegations and that's okay

Jasper:

He is about 6'3 or 190 cm in the books

And about 5'9 or 175 cm in the movies

He is another one who is a bit traditional

He was a confederate soldier after all sadly

That was back when there were pioneers and women only made cheese and raised kids

He's not used to his partner being taller than him

I mean his other partner is Alice

But he loves you so he stays

It's not a dealbreaker for him anyways

What might be a dealbreaker though? Sneaking up on him and picking him up

He doesn't like feeling vulnerable

It would be a miracle if you managed a sneak attack anyway

So probably don't do that

Ask him nicely and he might consider it

I feel like the best time to get him to say yes though would be if you had a really rough day and he can feel that you are really upset

He would try other things to cheer you up first, but if that doesn't work...

He suggests that maybe holding him would make you feel better?

And of course it does

Again he won't admit that he likes it

Will let you keep doing it tho

But only occasionally

Rosalie:

In the books she is about 5'9 or 175 cm

And in the movies she is about 5'4 or 162 cm

Another one in the middle/average height range

She is used to being shorter

I mean look at her next to Emmett

She wouldn't find it shocking

However I don't think she'd be into being picked up

She is a vengeful, independent woman

Her hobby is taking care of fancy cars

She is not delicate and does not want to be picked up

It reminds her too much of her old fiance

I feel like she might let you do it once in a while though

She isn't cruel after all

She'd treat it like an obligation though

Like going to your partner's favorite restaurant that you hate because you want to see them happy

She might enforce a system around it

"If you do three favors for me of my choice I'll let you pick me up"

Or something along those lines

Overall it's not her favorite but she'll let you

Emmett:

He is about 6'5 or 195 cm in the books

And about 6'1 or 185 cm in the movies

So finding anyone taller than him?

He is in awe

He loves it tbh

Immediately you two are THE power couple

Literally emphasis on power

You may be his partner but you are also his competition now sorry

Contests on who can jump higher (he wins obv unless you're a vampire too)

Who is faster

And who is stronger

That last one is where you pick him up for the first time

He bet you that you couldn't do it

And obviously you can

He just standing there like that stupid old pikachu meme

"Can you do that again"

New favorite thing unlocked

Even though he hates being bested, he finds that he loves being picked up

It's been a long time since someone's done that to him

He finds it refreshing <3

Esme:

She is about 5'6 or 167 cm in the books

In the movies she's about 5'4 or 163 cm

So another one who's used to being shorter than people

I have a feeling that she would really like being picked up tho

She has a bad history with lovers

That of course being that the only one we know she had before Carlisle was pretty abusive

She loves feeling secure in her relationships (as anyone should) but I feel like she really likes the reminders of it

For example, being the little spoon or walking on the inside on the sidewalk

Or being picked up

She had never even thought of it before you just... did it

Pick her up to give her a kiss and she will melt

Carlisle:

In the books he is about 6'2 or 188 cm

In the movies he is about 5'11 or 180 cm

I know I said Edward was old fashioned...

But this guy is literally the definition of old

He's pretty progressive all things considered

But he does have a hard time wrapping his head around this one

He's not used to being in love with someone who is taller than him

(Don't even get me started if you're a guy or basically anything that's not an AFAB woman... this man is confused and starts questioning his whole existence)

But if he loves you he loves you

And once he's made up his mind to make you his partner then he is content with any differences he may see in his mind

He actually kind of likes it

He doesn't need to do like a crazy vampire jump to reach something that Emmett put super high up anymore

But as far as being picked up?

That's a bit of a reach

After all he's the rock of this whole family

He feels like he can't let his guard down for even a second or they'll be found out by humans or attacked by another coven

So it's a big ask for him

But maybe if you eased into it by being the big spoon a couple times, lifting him off the ground just a little bit when you give him a hug maybe you could get there eventually

Vampire! Bella:

She is about 5'4 or 162 cm in the books

And about 5'5 or 165 cm in the movies

The most progressive (yay!)

She couldn't give less of a damn if you were 8 feet or 4 feet tall

If she loves you she loves you

She would notice your height but honestly wouldn't care

Now if you snuck up on her?

Get ready to get punched sorry

Charlie's a cop he definitely taught her something

Even if while she was human she couldn't use that knowledge effectively

Give her a warning next time

She doesn't mind tbh

As long as she's not doing something you can hold her like a ragdoll for hours

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pseudowho · 1 month ago

Note

Hi!! Thanks for the advice. From the way your ask was worded it seems like you've experienced this before too and I'm sorry. Here's an update.

So last night after I sent you the ask I decided to email my professor and ask him if I could get a new lab partner, and he basically said "Well, what did you expect? You're the only girl in a lab full of horny young men. What do you want me to do?"

As that was completely useless, I just complained about it to my boyfriend then got ready and went to my 8 am lab with this guy. As I was walking in, I read your response and decided I was over it.

Today my hair was down when I walked in (I was going to put it up as soon as I put my stuff down) and before I could put it up he came up behind me and grabbed all my hair, gathering it into a ponytail "offering" to do it for me. I loudly told him to stop touching my hair as it was making me uncomfortable and surprisingly he stopped for the rest of the lab.

But when it was over I got my stuff and left and I noticed he was following me. I guess for context there's a few things you should know about me. One, I was born and raised in the city of Chicago, and spent my childhood wandering around the city with friends or my parents and walking my dog by myself.

So needless to say, I have taken self-defense classes and am capable of fighting. I was also pretty scrappy and not afraid to trade blows a lot when I was younger so I do have more experience in fist fights than I probably should. On top of that, I may not be a particularly large or intimidating woman (I'm 5'4" on a good day, and weigh in at around 120-125 pounds. I think that's around 55 kgs and 162 cm). However, I was/have been a gymnast my entire life so I've always been made of pretty much pure muscle.

Okay, back to what happened basically I noticed he was following me, so I turned around and confronted him, asking what he wanted. He started yelling at me about how I made a big deal out of everything and that I had no right to embarrass him like that in front of our peers. When I got annoyed and turned to walk away he grabbed my arm.

While I wish I had reacted a little better, a mixture of my bad temper (I don't get mad easily but I do get mad it's not pretty) and some of my own personal trauma I reacted without thinking and broke his nose.

So yeah. He said he was going to press charges but I told him if he did I would press charges against him for sexual harassment so I'm pretty sure this is resolved and he won't bother me again (hopefully).

As someone who has broken their nose multiple times (a variety of gymnastics related incidents) I hope he gets racoon eyes and his face throbs like a little bitch for a couple of weeks.

Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that things worked out, and that I'm really grateful for your advice and words of encouragement! I'm sorry your baby was sick and hope they feel better! I've never heard of Darkest Dungeon. What's it about??

Fucking hell, you bloody legend.

He deserves it. This was a predictable escalation of events, and I'm glad we called it. Well done on the exceptional hit.

I would be careful, though. If it is at all possible, make sure you have your location shared with your boyfriend on your phone, let him know when you're walking alone. If possible, make plans to immediately call someone the whole time you're walking alone, he is less likely to attack you if he knows someone is a lovely listening for you. Make sure you send messages to people with this guy's full name, and notation within that he's sexually harassing you and that events have escalated, as this creates an evidence trail.

Make sure you do not have uncovered drinks. Walk with your keys held between your fingers. Remember, in the case of a fight, you can use the inner blade of your thumb to scratch that unnecessary top layer off the surface of his corneas. Instep, groin, eyes, bite, scratch.

I only say this, because being punched on the nose isn't suddenly going to make this man respect you. In a lot of ways, it's going to make him angrier. While I'm happy you fought back, I'm also aware that he is likely stronger than you if it really came down to a fight.

Refer your teacher's email to the correct department at your University. I suspect you're in a STEM course, contextually, and sexual harassment of women and minorities in STEM is absolutely rampant. Your teacher cannot be allowed to get away with that.

Continue making noise. Get louder, and louder, and louder if you need to. If you keep escalating it up and nobody listens, I'm sure the local press will be very interested. Make sure more than one person knows at all points.

Fight the good fight, kiddo.

EDIT: don't worry about me, I'm okay. Darkest Dungeon is a rogue like horror game, where you take a crew of ragtag bandits, plague doctors, highwaymen, crusaders, bounty hunters etc etc. to a dungeon filled with eldritch horrors, and try to clear it out. It's so cool, and harrowing, and I love it.

Proud of you!

Love,

-- Haitch, who would love to make him wish he'd never been born xxx

#pseudowho answers you #pseudowho #Haitch #Well done to OP for this guy and his broken nose

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iridescentparkers · 6 months ago

Text

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use, lots of mentions of death, sexual themes

a/n ⇢ this one is long - 2.5k words, but i think its my favorite so far!!!!! also please lmk what you guys think in my inbox!

“YOU’RE GLOWING,” Harry teased as Peter shut their apartment door last weekend.

Peter Parker found himself slightly swooned by his evening guest. Days would pass, and Peter would find himself daydreaming like a schoolgirl about when he would see her again. The only problem was he forgot to get her number.

Shit.

He would sit on his couch and open his laptop, watching as the search engine glared back at him. Think, what would be the best place to start?

The Trenton!

That has to be her last name. Duh! And what do you know, a Y/N Trenton does exist! Thousands of results show up. You name it, it's there. Even old news articles.

Should he message her on Facebook? No, she’s older but not 40.

Instagram. Great. On his computer, he sees that she has 10k followers and 162 posts.

Wow. She’s stunning. He shouldn’t, but he scrolls a bit, finding some old photos. Dozens from her USC days where she had blunt bangs and florescent pink lip color.

Scrolling down, he clicked on one of her at a college party. He scrolled through the page to see the five other pictures on the post until he eventually stopped. The photos were covered in a golden filter, with Y/N practically devouring this one dude's face.

Maybe not devouring, but she looks pretty happy kissing his face. He was blonde, with light eyes, nothing like Peter. It stung a bit, but it was from 6 years ago. It couldn’t mean anything now.

But what in the world was he going to say to her? Peter was so lost, he never had to slide into a girl's DM’s. Eww, it was so odd to think about that.

“Hey,” he typed out before deleting it, maybe three times with varying amounts of y’s and e’s.

Then there was “Hi,” or “Hiiiiiii,” or “Sup girl.” No, please do not think like Harry.

“Hi, Y/N. Remember me? Would you like to meet up for lunch this Thursday?”

“That seemed relatively normal. Right?” He murmured under his breath but, he scratched his head as the pondering developed into pure confusion.

“And, send,” Harry announced after hovering over the couch and Peter’s shoulder to send the DM.

“Harry!” Peter shouted. “Why the hell would you send that?”

Harry grabbed the laptop after hopping over the couch and Peter snarled as he sat by him.

“I’m just doing you a favor?”

“Really? First, you tell me to put myself out there, which I do. Next, you butt into my personal life, sending messages that I have no idea were a good idea or not! I mean, why can’t you just leave me alone? What if she doesn’t want to see me again!”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Harry smiled, watching the screen from his lap.

“How the hell would you know?”

“Just see for yourself,” he announced as he turned the laptop around. There sat a reply, 2 seconds ago from Y/N.

“I’d love to.” It read, and Peter smiled to himself for his sweet date this week.

“You’re welcome.”

“HOW’S SCHOOL?” Y/N asked, walking down the New York City street.

“Hard,” Peter informed, walking alongside her. “Finals are coming up before the break, so I’m studying as much as I can before the weekend is over.”

She nodded, turning her body sideways as she slid between moving bodies.

“Wow, this is so cool!” She smiled, running up to the nearby paper stands. “The new Spiderman comics. My brother loves them, but I have never seen them in person.”

Peter giggles at her fascination with the book, watching as she flips through the colorful pages. “I never read them, but I always see them on the corner.”

Peter raised his brows as he gazed at the array of colorful printed books, “Wow, there are hundreds of them.”

“I know, but he always gets them as soon as they come out, or they sell out quickly.” She informed as she closed the book. “I’m talking like he’s a 10-year-old kid. He's a little older than you.”

He laughed, pulled out his wallet, and gave the cashier some change. Her mouth gaped as he executed the gesture, Peter then putting a small hand in front of her. "I insist. What do you think about Spiderman?”

Y/N looked between Peter and the book, her brows furrowing as she looked at Peter, “I think the work he does is cool. I don’t know much about him, but people love him.”

"Mostly."

"Yeah, but I feel like those who dislike him are just mad at the fact that they don't have super cool web lasers that shoot from their arms," she laughed, making arm gestures to imitate the hero with her hands, and Peter then laughed. "He's making an impact on the city."

Y/N gestured towards the printed comic in hand, looking at Peter’s expression, “Like at The Trenton, a local artist is doing a sculpture of multiple 3D spiderwebs layered with these comics and Spiderman newspapers.”

“I’d love to see it.”

“You can. The only thing is, it won't be ready for another 3 weeks. I can take you to the opening,” she informed. “I will say, I think a lot about who he is. Is he a rogue cop? Some sort of scrawny underdog?”

She spoke as she began putting the book in her bag as Peter paid the cashier. “Whoever he is, I think he’s a hero.”

He felt a bit flattered at her sentiment, smiling as he listened to her interest in him as what she called “a hero.” Those words left the mouths of few but when they did, Peter filled with gratitude.

The phone in his pocket began to buzz, and Peter lifted it into his palm, “Damn it.”

"What time is it?"

"A little past one."

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to make this cake for a friend, and my Aunt says she can’t come over to help me later.” He informed.

“I could help.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, placing his phone back in his pocket as he hesitated, “Sure.”

THEY FOUND THEIR WAY BACK TO PETER’S APARTMENT, Y/N giggling as she placed her bag down. “And you thought that was okay?”

Peter rubbed his nose, curling his lips as breathy chuckles fearfully left his lips, “I was 14 and thought the frosted tips were a ‘look.’”

“It was definitely... a look.” She said, widening her eyes, moving them across the apartment “Last time we were here, we uh…”

“Yeah,” he laughed, his eyes squinting as they met hers and laughed in a delightful unison. “I could use a drink. Beer?”

“You have nothing else in this house to drink?” She laughed, “College boys, I swear.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, walking over and opening the door to his fridge.

“I’ll take one.”

“And I’ll get this recipe open. Feel free to look around.”

Y/N moved around the apartment, looking at shelves and trinkets of stored memories between Peter and his roommate. Some shared, and others individualized. She moved to one of their bookshelves, grazing her fingers along the spines of varying albums and books on their shelf. She stopped at the one bright pink book, resting in the corner and drowning in the bland sea of book covers.

The hot pink album was coated with foam stickers and glitter, some getting on the shelf and Y/N’s hands as she opened the book.

Flipping to the first page, there sat a picture of Peter receiving a kiss from a girl with platinum blond bangs and pale skin, her fingers painted a baby pink nail color.

“Who’s this?”

Peter swallowed, as he placed two beers on the counter. “Gwen.”

“Why do you have this album with her in it?”

Her tone wasn’t mad, more curious for his answer, “She made it for me when we were together.”

“And you still have it?”

“She passed,” he informed, raising his brows as his hands slid into his front pockets. “Around 6 years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He repeated, looking at the book in her hands.

“I overstepped.” She stated, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf.

He shrugged as his lips began to curl further inward on his mouth, “I said you could look around.”

It remained silent as Peter settled more ingredients on his center kitchen aisle, Y/N creeping closer in delicate footsteps, careful in their newfound silence. She sat on the barstool in his kitchen, folding her hands carefully into a neat knot in front of her.

Peter reaches for and guzzles his open beer. He locks his eyes on the ingredients, his long lashes fluttering as the cold liquid slides down his throat. Peter places the empty bottle on his counter, speaking softly as the beer bubbles build in his chest. “Why don’t we make a cake?”

“Okay,” she nods, revealing her smile as she moves to Peter’s side. “What kind?”

“It’s weird, I know, but salted caramel.” He stated, and she jutted her neck backward. “Exactly.”

“Where should I start?”

Peter swiftly travels to the speaker on his bookshelf, blasting rock music and nodding as the beats echo inside his apartment. Y/N’s head finds the beat as the song rushes beats over her stance.

They whisk themselves around the kitchen, taking turns putting ingredients in the wet and dry bowls as the rhythm picks up under them. Peter reaches for three more drinks, the bottles clinking as they pile up in his trash can, and he wipes his lips free of the smeared alcohol.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer?" She chuckled as he shook his head on her face, his brown locks tickling her features.

“Me neither,” he yelled, lifting his head as his words fought with the blasting music.

With each bottle, his moves got sloppier, and Y/N laughed each time a new move developed in his repertoire. Smiling, his eyes crinkled as he jounced his chest to the down beats of the song. Y/N laughs at his lack of rhythm, and Peter pulls her by her arm to his chest. He whisked Y/N to the kitchen island, swirling her in the air, and settling her down next to the now-panned cake batter.

He leaned in close, kissing her lips, the wheaty beer taste sizzling on her lips. The kiss was sloppy but sensual as his tongue dipped into her mouth. He pulled her in deeper as his hand slung down to her lower waist, Y/N then pulled away as the oven beeped behind them.

“The oven,” Y/N whispered as she pulled away. “You should put the cake in.”

“Right, the cake.”

“WATER?” Peter asked, throwing his body next to Y/N on the couch.

She gave him a knowing look, playfully shoving him as he sat, “You first.”

“Pfft,” he waved, sinking his body on the furniture. “I’m fine.”

His words slurred as his drunken eyes wandered to Y/N’s figure. ”Peter, are sure?”

He huffed, pointing a finger to his bookcase, “That girl, Gwen. The one you saw earlier in the scrapbook…”

“Her favorite was salted caramel...everything. Salted caramel coffee, salted caramel chocolate, salted caramel ice cream, and especially salted caramel cake. She had it for her birthday every year.”

“And when is her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

Her lips formed a thin line as she scratched the open part of her chest. She immediately nodded as she pushed her legs from her chest, Peter moving his eyes down her body. “I don’t want your pity.”

She raised her brows as she chuckled, the air seeping through her teeth, “I wasn’t going to give you any. Why would you think that?”

“Everyone does.” He wavered. “They all want to tell me where I need to be, when to go out, when to...date. When to talk about her, when not to talk about her.”

“I mean this, truly, in the nicest way.” She began, placing a hand on his leg. “You said it's been 6 years? Why do you still care about what others think?”

“Because I don’t have much family left,” he informed, slurring his words as he flailed his loose arms in the air. “I need to make them happy.”

“You don’t need to, you want to.” She corrected. “And if they truly loved you, as long as you are happy, they wouldn’t care. At all.”

“You’re right.” he trailed, “But, I’m not happy. You’re the first date I’ve had in 6 years.”

“You were in high school!” Y/N exclaimed, hitting the back of her hand gently on his shoulder.

He shrugged, “I still could have put myself out there in college.”

“Not everyone finds the love of their life in high school and college. Believe me.”

“What does that mean?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked towards her feet, “Nothing.”

Peter put a hand on her knee, leaning closer to her figure, “Tell me.”

“I was engaged to a man I met in college,” she began, glancing vaguely at the left hand in her lap. “About three months ago, he died in a car crash.”

Was it the guy from her pictures?

Peter’s expression softened as he reached for her hand, pulling it to his. “M’Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” she began, her voice softening as she avoided eye contact “I found out, the day I met you, he was having an affair with his secretary. And now, she’s asking for some of his things because she claims, 'he loved her too.'”

“Y/N”

“Like you said, I don’t want your pity. I’m okay.”

“I’m too drunk to give pity,” he slurred, drooping his head to her knees, inhaling as he leaned on her body, forcing her to drop her knees, and his head fell in her lap. She ran a gentle hand along his head, rubbing it slowly along his head.

He lazed in the physical contact, before grabbing her hand from his head. He pulled it to his chest, moving it to the cadence of his soft speech, “Vanilla.”

“What?” she questioned.

“You smell like her. Gwen,” he began, raising her hand to his nose and inhaling her scent, “Gwen used to wear some perfume. I forgot the name. I think it was like Vanilla Palm Tree or some sugary scent. I only remember she always smelt like Vanilla mixed with…beach.”

She chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his grasp, “Vanilla mixed with beach? Peter, you are drunk.”

“No no,” he assured as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s… It’s Vanilla Palm Tree.”

“I should leave.”

“It’s why I stayed and brought you home from the bar…”

Y/N felt as the smoke smell rushed through her airways, “You don’t smell that?”

“Smell…smell what..” he muttered as his limbs went limp.

“Peter!”

Grey lines of smoke trailed the ceiling of his apartment, and Y/N shot up to Peter’s kitchen, “Lightweight...”

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