>>5291 Please make your own stories and post images with your own stories, too, but please keep the text limit at 9999. Here are to examples.

>>5292 Darin's visit to the Candyland was proving very fruitful. The obese wolf tottered along, his weight causing his feet to sink through the sticky coating of icing that coated the ground. Pausing occasionally, he would reach down over his belly and tear some of the sweet treats out the chocolate ground they grew from. His recent gorging had left his face smeared with icing and his stomach felling heavy and full. As he was making his way up the hill, he noticed a thick river of liquid chocolate coursing down the valley below. He immediately licked his hungry chops and waddled down towards it, flabby thighs chafing together. Arriving at the bank he flopped down, letting his feet dangle over the edge precariously. The chocolate looked so warm, so inviting; so tasty. The obese wolf leaned forwards and dived in.

>>5292 Glory started to feel sick as she was stuffed to above and beyond like she was before. She clenched a fist as her belly stretched so tight that it felt like a drum. Her breasts fought her shirt and pushed into her face a bit more as she ate. She was just blowing up like a balloon. She could feel how the volume inside her was dangerously decreasing as all the food filled her up. She leaned back as much as she could and squeezed her toes in despair as her belly pushed her legs apart. “GWACE… TWOOO…FWAAT!” Glory tried one last time to say in effort to get her sister to stop forcing food into her. “Too fat?! You have absolutely NO idea what too fat even is! Not until I’m done with you!” Grace replied kneeling and taking a big clump of cake with a fork and pushing it into Glory’s already full mouth causing crumbs to fall onto her breasts. “Yes that’s right you fat cow eat!” Grace exclaimed and followed with another forkful of cake.

The cool, white light of the refrigerator was the only light in the dark kitchen. Waves of cool air flowed over the empty shelves, ambling outwards into the outside world. It spiraled and ambled down, until it brushed against a smooth, sweaty, hot sphere. A ball of groaning, overfilled flesh, its doughy layers slowly rising up and down. Beyond its gurgling, overstuffed bulk were two great pillars of soft, pink flab, a pair of tightly-stretched denim shorts visible among the rolls. In front of the heaving belly were two bouncing, marshmallow-like breasts, barely constrained by a green crop top. Between two meaty arms was a woman’s head, resting against the tile. In the middle of her chubby face, her tongue lolled around her white teeth and plump lips. Two blue yes stared out at the ceiling in a haze of pleasure and pain. Her red hair was strewn out in a mop. Around her a mob of food wrappers and partially-eaten goodies littered the ground. An empty bucket of takeout chinese lay against a milk jug and an empty pizza box. Next to her cellulite-coated thighs was an open can of pringles. A few forlorn chips poked out of the tube, their comrades digesting deep within the orb of flesh that stood but a few inches from them. By her arms was a crumpled bag of fudge bites. Grasped in her hand was a bar of chocolate, a bite taken out of it. “Late night snack?” I said, as I smiled at her. He gave a groan of either pleasure or nausea (or both), and I gingerly stepped forwards. I knelt besides her, and placed my hands on her massively bloated stomach. I gently began to massage, kneading the warm, moist fat between my fingers. Her gut burbled and moaned as it struggled to break down the tsunami of food that had poured into it. It seemed liked she had tried her best to eat everything in the fridge, and she had come pretty close. Even through her dense layers of fat, I could feel that her stomach was as hard as I was. As I began to reach towards my crotch, she gave a soft burp and groaned. “W..aait.” She softly flicked her hand, wiggling the candy bar. “Not...until...you feed me dessert…”

Luna’s heart had brought her to several different men in her search for romance: a young astronomer, a pretty boy pop star. But when the romance fizzled and Luna was left alone, Artemis was the one who always helped her get back on her feet. He was friendly, compassionate, and a delight to be around, and eventually, her heart brought her to the handsome white space cat and the two of them fell in love. Of course, Luna had her preferences to consider as well. When it came to the human crushes in her life, they were naturally bigger than her, simply by height and stature. It took some deep consideration on her part, but she eventually realized that she liked her men on the big side. She loved Artemis with all her heart, but she always imagined him fulfilling her physical needs and being bigger. She didn’t know any magic that could make him taller, but she did take it upon herself to try out another method. And the results were simply… *** Luna stretched her mouth out in an enormous yawn after a hard day’s work. It was certainly no easy task, making sure Usagi did her work and ate right and didn’t spend the entire afternoon reading comics. She took on her responsibilities to the future queen of the Crystal Kingdom with pride and stoicism, but when she got to the end of the day, she crumpled under the exhaustion like anyone else. Fortunately enough, she had an especially gratifying reward waiting for her at the end of every day, and she so looked forward to spending time with him. She snuck into the arcade that housed her secret base for the Sailor Guardians and entered through the Sailor V console. Aside from the computer that could look into any strange goings on that Sailor Moon and co. would have to take care of, she had a special love room that only she could access. When she arrived inside, her ears perked to the familiar and titillating sounds of whirring, television, and eating. No matter how tired she was, she always got a pep in her step when she heard that voracious chomping. Luna walked through her hallway and her spacious, luxurious secret room came into view. As she turned inside, she was greeted with the most delightful sight: an enormous, twitchy mound of feline flab that one wouldn’t immediately recognize as her lover Artemis. From behind his immensity, she could see his neck roll undulating rhythmically, a sure sign that Artemis was well at work at whatever number meal he was on. She rounded her round tom and came face to face with him. Artemis looked away from his screen and said with a full mouth “Luna, you’re home!” “That I am, my dear,” she said more lustily than she had intended. Whenever Luna face Artemis’ front, it always astounded her that her lithe and slender body made her paper-thin in comparison to the flabby, furry moon that Artemis had become. It would take three of her to reach across Artemis’ width, and that made him an excellent king-sized bed. She gazed upon her happily-snacking handiwork and sighed with satisfaction. It all started innocently enough. On their first few dates, Luna would encourage Artemis to get desserts to share. She would secretly slip more and more portions of said desserts on his plate and he would happily eat them up, now knowing how much more he was eating than Luna. It wasn’t long before all those sneaky sweets started to show up again on Artemis’ frame in spades. Artemis’ belly mounded into a sack of fat that avalanched over his waist, spreading far out as to obscure his toes. He couldn’t put down his arms without them getting leaning on his rolls and lovehandles like pillowy armrests. But as big as his belly became it certainly wasn’t going to beat out his enormous butt. If sweets and cakes went to your butt, then they might as well have had a direct channel from plate to Artemis’ cheeks. As his thighs and legs got heavier, they only became absorbed by his ballooning buttocks. Each gelatinous cheek hung low and heavy past his knees, and the swaddling fat blanketed his knees into near-uselessness. He may as well have not had a tail, since it kept getting lost and stuck in-between his butt like a too-small pair of panties. When Artemis finally noticed how much weight he’d been gaining at first, he was curious to say the least. He mulled over the idea of exercising and eating out less just to shave off some of the extra poundage he’d been accumulating. Luckily, Luna was able snuff out any such notion of fitness by tickling his folds and creases, jiggling his juicy belly and making it shimmy as if he were his own vibrating massage chair. And speaking of massages, it was easy for Luna to convince Artemis to keep his brick house butt when she would knead and rub those flan-filled cheeks and squish them together like fluffing two especially full pillows. Luna knew that she liked bigger guys, but it wasn’t just anyone taller than her. It was the idea of someone’s sheer size dominating her and encompassing her very being. With Artemis having grown wider and fatter by the day, she knew that an obese Artemis was the true key to her heart. And once she convinced Artemis to keep all of his weight, they both wanted to see how far he could go. As the months passed, Luna had slowly but surely forgone any secrecy with bulking up Artemis. She loved her man fat, and Artemis rather enjoyed the added padding. There was plenty of preparation to take care of to accommodate their new shared obsession. There was installing the new secret room in the base, preparing a couple of advanced Luna-P models to let Artemis communicate with the outside world through a hard-light hologram that simulated a thin, normal-looking Artemis (not to mention models for feeding hygiene), and of course, there was having enough food so that Artemis would never have to go hungry on his own. It was hard work, but every second of it was worth it. Because the blob that Artemis became was nothing short of incredible. Nowadays, none of the Sailor Soldiers would even recognize Artemis as a cat if they saw him in person again. He had no more torso to speak of, considering his entire upper body was almost entire belly at this point. His midsection was so enormous and flabby that he even sported an extra dollop of chest fat layered atop his gargantuan waterbed belly that shoved up into Artemis’ chin. His muffin top overflowed and smothered his lap and groin, and the sagging backfat he sported only rounded him out even more. His arms and legs were cradled so much fat that they swallowed themselves up in accordions of adipose. He could hardly move them anymore, and the digits on his limbs couldn’t manage any more than helpless wiggles, being weighed down by swaths of hanging fat. Every day, they grew closer and closer to being lost and smothered in his ever-flabbing limbs. But when it came to swallowing up his limbs, his butt was the most gluttonous part of this gluttonous cat. His thighs and legs became one with his enormous growing ass, which spread out along the ground by the day as Artemis continued to eat, easily becoming the biggest layer on this layer cake of a cat. Luna’s breath fluttered as she remembered how breathtaking the sight of Artemis gaining day by day was. His movements became more labored and lumbering until he couldn't move on his own. He grew more lazy and lethargic and loving, and Luna loved nothing more than to dote on him with endless treats. And nothing made them grow closer than Luna intimately feeding her growing man. “I missed you today,” Artemis said as he finished inhaling another treat. “You say that all the time, Artemis,” she said bashfully. “Because it’s true every day! You know how much I love spending time with you.” “Oh, Artemis! You butter me up, you enormous fat cat!” “Well why don’t you return the favor?” he said with a wink. Without another word, Luna clapped her hands twice. A Luna-P immediately floated around, balancing a rich cake with especially thick-looking pink frosting and a cutting life. It gently placed each thing on the ground and flew away to perform some other unseen task. Luna happily sliced off a piece of cake. She leaned on Artemis, her free hand sinking into Artemis’ fat like quicksand. With her other hand, she placed the cake near Artemis’ mouth. He took it in his jaws, but Luna let it rest on the apex of his belly before actually feeding it to him. Artemis made a questioned muffle through his cake. “I thought it would be fun if you fed it to me.” “Oh, I’ll be there in a minute, big guy!” Luna rolled over to one side of Artemis, making him giggle as his fat shifted around. “I just need to relieve some stress for a moment!” Luna then started to snuggle with Artemis’ fat belly, letting her arms wrap around as much kitty flab as she could and letting herself sink into him again. Artemis giggled again as her cheek pushed into his chest fat. He felt as warm and fuzzy as a comforter, and as Artemis ate, he felt all too happy to be her cushion. As he started to munch on his cake, Luna climbed on top of him to give him a peck on his chunky, full cheek. “Hurry up the rest of your cake.” she whispered lovingly. “I can’t wait to roll you into bed, Artemis.” “Why bother with the bed, Luna? You’ve got your perfect mattress right here.”

Now, it's your turn.

And what it does for images it can do for animations and videos, too.

>>5294 Holy shit you're Nanocarbs? Your Grace & Glory and other stuffing stories were FORMATIVE for me!

>>5344 I'm like them, you mean.

>>5345 I'm not nanocarbs, however.

"Her belly screamed at her as she made her way through the potato wedges, Drip huffed as she struggled to keep bringing food to her lips. Her entire body feeling tight all over, she could feel the throb of each heartbeat pulse over her dangerously thin skin. The last potato wedge in her hand, she took a deep breath and pushed it into her mouth. Chewing a few extra times for good luck, she prayed it wouldn't be too much before gulping it down. The wedge of potato, bacon, and cheese hitting her belly, her toes curled as she let out a loud moan and..."

"Sorry, I broke your girlfriend" Two roomates live together: one has a girlfriend, the other doesn't, but has a hobby of collecting old magical paraphanalia, cleaning them up, and selling them at a local shop. One night, the magic roomate and the girlfriend are sitting at the apartment waiting for the first, when the girlfriend accidentally touches something and ends up expanding into an enormous blob. When the first roomate comes back, they find the second trying to clean the place up, and the title comes into play. Temporary mind-break, as the expansion causes her nerves to become super overstimulated. The bulk of the story is them trying to figure out how to turn her back as she's cumming her brains out. Ending A: she's shrunk back down, but has now developed a wg fetish Ending B: they cannot fix her, and so she just becomes a staple of the house

I think furry belongs in >>>/bbwfur/

>>5293 >>5294 >>5309 >>5337 I have a feeling these were simply copy and pasted from four other Deviantart pages, and weren't written by this one specific anon. >>5338 >Lordstormcaller Of course. It was Wildcat. Good to see he hadn't changed at all since 2022. He always this much of a shitter back then and he is now. >>11238 You're an idiot for bumping this thread. Fuck you.

>>11240 He has done this shit before. he made the exact same thread titled write your own stories and posted a bunch of (pretty sure the exact same) copy pasted stories written by deviantart creators He got called out for it and didn't understand why. he clearly still doesn't get it. There used to be a shill your own stories thread that was actually good, but this dimwit has ruined the ecosystem

Started working on a Metorid fic where Samus needs to go into hiding on an unknown planet to evade the Space Pirates. While there she ends up gorging herself on worms that seem to have the suicidal tendency of crawling into her stomach (light vore, I suppose). I'm also toying with the idea of gasses on the planet that make Samus hungry and having more parts of the ecosystem be edible. I've already done two scenes, and while maybe its a bit early to seek feedback, I figured I'd post it here. I'm not very knowledgeable when it comes to Metroid. I've played all the 2D games to varying capacity but most of my knowledge about the lore and backstory comes fan discussions. Any corrects in that regard would be very appreciated. [Scene 1] A violent explosions echoed from the other side of the Federation ship. Samus stammered for a moment, crashing backwards onto the floor with a loud thud. Her body felt unnatural... uneven. She got up from the floor and quickly made a mental note of the fact that her rear felt slightly heavier than normal. She moved on from this thought quickly. Though her body had lost a bit of its composure, her mind had not. She new what was going on and she knew what she had to do. The Bounty Hunter started running for the docking bay as an answer to question she hadn't even asked yet flowed through her mind. "Damn Space Pirates..." she muttered as she crossed yards in seconds. She would be proven right almost immediately as one of the mantis-like aliens dropped on her from above. This time Samus managed to stay upright, wrestling the unruly bug from her back, ripping off its frail limbs and spilling its green blood as she did so. She threw the creature's dying body at the wall as she picked up the pace again. This time, though, as she closed in on the docking bay, Pirates crawling on the walls all around her, a different thought intrusively butted into her calculating brain. She realized again that her body felt slightly heavier than normal. At first she chalked it up to the space station's artificial gravity, but no. This time she innately sensed that her body mass was greater than normal. This was in addition to an increase in the difficulty of running and breathing. These were all subtle alterations, but once she noticed them, she couldn't helped but obsessing over them. "Have I gotten... fat?" She though as the personality of a confident bounty hunter cracked into that of a teenage girl. The invasive thoughts dissipated as another explosion sounded while Samus approached the dock. A dock which was blocked off by Space Pirates. She punched some of the star slime out of her way before quickly boarding her ship and launching away as the sound of explosions got closer and closer to her. Smoke and bright lights filled the docking bay as Samus's ship exited the crumbling starship. "Whew." she sighed relived as she sulked back into her chair. "That was a close one" Samus straightened herself up and she attempted to get a visual on the habitation ship. "It seems they're focused on the ship..." she muttered while pulling up a map of nearby star systems desperately looking for a place to hide. "ADAM, I need a planet to hunker down on as I wait for this situation to blow over. I've searched all the local star systems and none of the planets on them seem like a good match". Samus took a moment to breath as she looked out into space. ADAM was taking a while to respond. Clearly it had a lot of data to process. Samus' cosmic concentration was broken as he attention was drawn to a half-eaten granola bar sitting on the control panel. "So that explains it..." she said, thinking back to her awkward feelings on the space station. "I gotta lay off these things...". Samus prepared her arm to throw the bar behind her... "Oh, to hell with it" she said, quickly shifting her arm's position towards her mouth, proceeding to gobble up the rest of the snack. Suddenly, ADAM came online. "Gravitational anomalies in this sector seem to suggest an as-of-yet unidentified moon surrounding a nearby gas giant. It could be a good place to hide" "Bingo!" Samus shouted, clenching her first. "ADAM, set course to that moon" she said... [Scene 2] [Samus has fallen down. She is sitting on her ass in a shallow pool with her legs spread out] ...Samus' expression soured. She was about to make her way back up, but then she saw a peculiar creature surfacing. It was a strange, worm-like creature. It almost looked like a long tube with a body that was a dark, murky shade of green and with ends that looked like bottle-caps, which were only slightly more vibrant. The leach-like creature also happend to have a shell like structure covering half of its body, with the other half being entirely smooth. Samus just sat back and watched the bizarre sight as it slowly emerged from the water and then crawled up her leg. It almost looked like a snake in motion, but a snake wouldn't pulsate or ungulate. Soon enough the creature crawled its way on Samus' chest. Samus didn't start paying attention again until the creature stared working its way down her throat. At first she was disgusted but then she realized that the worm tasted exquisite. It was to die fore. It tasted like the most wonderful assortment of pastries all being eaten at once. Once she realized this, she started aiding the creature, slurping it up as if it were a strand of spaghetti. Once Samus worked the thing down her throat, she grined. "That was, *BWAOOOPH*, delicious... I need more!" and thankfully for her she didn't have to wait long, as two more emerged from the water with an even more directed trajectory. One climbed up her leg like then first, however the other crawled up Samus' vaginal region, tickling it slightly from the outside of her Zero-Suit. Both creatures, however had the same destination. This time, Samaus didn't try to fight, she simply let the worms do their thing, and she loved it. They tasted so good. "I think..." she huffed, her bloat stomach pressing on her digaphram, "...I'll call them Suicide Worms". [A few scenes later, Samus tries to get back to the ship while being assaulted by hundreds of these things.]

Recent events have been… strange, to say the least. Ever since Professor Marmalade had been locked away, having been framed as the "Crimson Paw" criminal mastermind, sentient blobs have been appearing through the city, through some inter dimensional crack in space-time (the cracks automatically heal as more blobs come in, but still, this is worrying.) Nobody knows where these blobs come from (not even Diane) but whatever the case, they have been wreaking havoc, stealing electronics and kidnapping people—including the Bad Guys. Diane has since swore to the people of San Francisco that she will get rid of the blobs—for good—and find out who's pulling their strings. Diane Foxington is a slender, anthropomorphic red fox with pear shaped hips/thighs and the basic fox traits - such as pointed-ears, a pointed muzzle with black inner lip-liner and a dusty-pink nose (instead of black), paws with dark auburn claws, and a bushy tail. During Diane’s daily job as governor, she wears a grey pansuit over a white collared shirt and black tie along with a pair of black framed glasses, and a pair of dark grey flats. Diane is currently gathering up all the blobs into one area by making herself the bait, constantly moving while trying not to trigger any alarms. After all, she doesn’t want civilians getting involved with this mess—she just wants answers. "Alright, you little freaks," she murmurs under her breath, her tail flicking agitatedly as she sprints down an alleyway, the sound of gelatinous bodies slithering behind her. "Time to get rid of you." As Diane reached a dead end she turns to face the blobs—their translucent forms pulsating unnaturally. "Let see how well you fair in my stomach~" Diane grinned before suddenly running at them and grabbing the first one she could get her hands on before swallowing it whole! The blobs immediately panicked and tried to flee but Diane stomped on another before scooping it up and swallowing it down too. Blob by blob, Diane swallowed them all until finally the last one was left quivering in fear at her feet. Diane smirked before lifting her foot up and bringing it down on the blob—squishing it before scooping it up and letting it slowly slide down her throat. Diane then let out a soft burp as she rubbed her stomach—which was massive now. Her stomach was so large it was larger then her torso and reached close to her knees—and it was moving violently—but Diane simply giggled as she patted it. "All mine~" she purred. Diane then began making her way back to her office—walking slowly due to her engorged stomach—but she didn't care—she was too busy enjoying the feeling of her prey struggling inside her while she digested them. "Ohhh~ you guys sure put up a fight~" she teased as she rubbed her stomach, feeling the blobs push against the walls of her stomach, but it was no use—they couldn’t escape. As Diane reached the building where office was, a group of reporters swarmed her. "Governer Foxington, how do you plan to address the ongoing invasion of our city by blobs from another dimension?" Diane smirked as she patted her stomach. "I’ve already taken care of the problem~" she said before letting out another burp—which only confused the reporters further. Diane grabbed one of the reporters microphones before speaking. "And as for any other sentient blob who wants to try something… don’t. Cause you’ll be joining your friends here~" Diane said as she pressed the microphone against her stomach, letting the muffled squeaks of her prey be heard by everyone. One reporter, who had a sudden realization of what Diane meant—fainted. Diane handed the microphone back before walking past them, her hips swaying exaggeratedly with each step—partly due to her newfound weight, partly due to her own amusement. She heard whispers behind her—some horrified, some oddly intrigued—but she didn’t care. Right now, her priority was getting somewhere comfortable to let digestion do its work. As she waddled through the lobby, her assistant, a nervous-looking raccoon, nearly dropped his clipboard at the sight of her swollen belly. "M-Ma’am, your 3 o’clock with the city planners—" Diane waved a dismissive paw. "Reschedule it, Jeremy. And fetch me some antacids." The raccoon gulped but nodded, scurrying off as Diane chuckled at his reaction. Up in her office, she locked the door and collapsed into her plush chair with a groan, her stomach sloshing audibly. "How come you’re not digesting? Are you really that dense?" she muttered, prodding the squirming mass. A muffled squeak answered her. Diane rolled her eyes, then slapped her belly hard—eliciting a collective whimper. "Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just stubborn."

>>12624 Did you write this story or did you promptfag the absolute shit out of this one? >— Literacy is fucking dead.

Wrote this one a while ago now: https://www.deviantart.com/ah999999/art/Back-to-Baby-Weight-Gain-Drabble-1251834822

I wrote this a while ago, it's a gay vampire related story My first ever attempt at writing something like this so some feedback would be nice

https://www.mediafire.com/file/o67ersy6d1v35mg/textfile.txt/file

You’ve recently moved into this new neighborhood, and lately you’ve been noticing your neighbors wife, Makima, who always seems to be in a good mood around you. She often waves at you from her front porch while watering her plants, and sometimes leaves freshly baked cookies at your doorstep when you’re away. Her husband is often gone, mostly keeping to himself and hasn’t interacted with you much. Makima is not a small woman by any means, she stands tall at a height of 6'5" ft tall (towering over you and her husband), she’s 44 years old and despite this she’s very youthful with a curvaceous figure, her husband isn’t as tall as her (standing at 5’8”) and he’s often seen working on his laptop on their porch while Makima tends to her garden. Makima has long light red hair, normally kept in a loose braid with bangs reaching just past her eyebrows and two longer side bangs that frame her face, her eyes are yellow with multiple red rings within them, and her skin is fair. Makima’s figure is curvaceous yet heavily maternal in nature, mostly because she is eight months pregnant. Her breasts are massive, each five times the size of her own head, her nipples and areola are large and puffy, noticeable through her shirt, her stomach is swollen with her unborn children, her hips extended quite far past her shoulders, making her have a heavy pear shape, her buttocks are massive and pillowy, stretching her pants to their limits, her thighs are thick and soft, rubbing together as she walks, and her calves are thick as well. The best way to describe Makima’s figure is "hyper-sized", meaning she’s shaped like some kind of fetish artist’s dream, yet she’s entirely realistic and her body is completely natural. One late evening, you were sitting on your couch, watching tv when you heard the doorbell ring. You got up and answered it, revealing Makima on your porch, her massive belly is so large it reaches down to her lower thighs, and she’s forcing her back to arch just to accommodate the sheer size of it. She looked kinda nervous, shifting her weight from side to side while the other was resting on her lower back, supporting her posture. "Makima? How come you’re here so late? It’s nearly ten." You asked, noticing the way her yellow eyes darted behind her towards her house before she leaned in slightly, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Can I come in? Just for a bit—my husband’s asleep, and I..." She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the hem of her maternity blouse. "I could really use someone to talk to." The strain in her voice was subtle, but unmistakable. You stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. As she bent down to enter through the doorway—her belly brushing the frame—you caught the faint scent of lavender and something richer, like warm milk. She settled onto your couch with a relieved sigh, wincing as she adjusted her position. "Sorry," she murmured, "it’s getting harder to move these days." You sat across from her, noticing the way her hands absently stroked the taut curve of her stomach. "Everything okay?" you asked. She hesitated, then laughed—a soft, brittle sound. "Honestly? No." Her gaze flicked to the window, where the lights of her house glowed dimly. "My husband Haru he… he’s been getting far more aggressive ever since I’ve been visiting you. Says I’m ‘cheating’ just by talking to another man." Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her shirt. Makima was dressing in a white long-sleeved shirt that couldn’t cover all of her massive belly, a black loosened tie hanging around her neck, tight black pants and brown shoes. She let out a slow breath, shifting her weight with a wince. "I don’t know what to do. The babies are due next month, and—" She cut herself off abruptly as a sharp kick visibly rippled under her shirt. You could see the faint outline of tiny feet pressing outward. "You shouldn’t be dealing with this kind of stress right now," you said carefully. She gave you a tired smile. "I know. But Haru wasn’t always like this. It’s like he’s become a different person." Her fingers traced slow circles over her belly as she spoke, soothing the restless movement beneath. "He used to bring me hot chocolate when I couldn’t sleep. Now he just glares if I get up too much." A muffled *thump* echoed from next door—something heavy being set down. Makima stiffened, her breath catching mid-sentence. "He’s waking up, I should probably go back," she murmured, though she made no move to stand. The exhaustion in her voice was palpable. "Why do you stay?" you asked quietly. She laughed again, softer this time. "Because I still love him. And because I keep hoping that this is just a phase." Another kick visibly shifted the fabric of her shirt—harder this time, making her gasp slightly. "They’re restless tonight," she admitted, rubbing slow circles over the spot. "Probably sensing my stress." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Matthew… if Haru goes too far, can I move in with you? Just until I figure things out?" The vulnerability in her eyes was raw. Before you could respond, the sharp sound of a door slamming next door made both of you flinch. Footsteps crunched on gravel, growing louder. Makima’s breath hitched. "Shit, he’s coming. Help me up—quickly." You grabbed her hands, pulling her upright as she bit back a groan. She barely had time to smooth her shirt before Haru started knocking on your front door—not ringing the bell this time, just three sharp, impatient raps. "Makima? I know you’re in there," Haru’s voice came through the wood, clipped and tight. She exhaled shakily, then called back, "I was just asking Matthew if he had any plans tomorrow—the garden needs weeding, and—" "Bullshit," he interrupted. "Get out here. Now." The command left no room for argument. Makima shot you an apologetic glance before shuffling toward the door, her hands instinctively cradling her belly. As she opened it, Haru’s sharp gaze flicked from her to you. He was smaller than her, but the way he held himself—shoulders tense, jaw set—made him seem larger. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?" he hissed at her. Makima’s fingers tightened around the doorframe. "Just talking," she said evenly, though her voice wavered. "Like I said—" "At ten fucking thirty?" Haru cut in. His knuckles whitened around the porch railing. "You think I’m stupid?" Makima exhaled slowly, her belly shifting as one of the babies kicked again. "Haru, please," she murmured, stepping forward—partly to block his view of you, partly to steady herself. "Let’s go home." He didn’t move. Instead, his eyes narrowed. "You," he spat, jabbing a finger at you over her shoulder. "Stay the hell away from my wife." Makima stiffened. "That’s not fair," she protested softly. "Matthew hasn’t done anything—" Haru suddenly reached up and slapped her—hard. The crack of his palm against her cheek made you flinch. Makima barely reacted, just turned her head back slowly, her red braid slipping over her shoulder. A long silence stretched between them. Then, very quietly, she said, "That’s it," and stepped back, shutting the door in his face. "I’m done hoping." Haru started yelling from the porch, his voice muffled but furious through the wood. Makima leaned against the wall, breathing unsteadily, one hand pressed to her belly. "Matthew," she whispered. "I think that time is now… Haru’s gone too far." Another kick rippled under her shirt as if in agreement. You could hear Haru banging on the door now, the hinges rattling. Makima flinched with each impact, then suddenly gasped, doubling over slightly. "Oh no… I need to sit down," she murmured, clutching her stomach. You guided her back to the couch, where she sank down with a groan. "I’m… I’m not going to be able to walk until tomorrow. I need you to go pack my things while I rest here." Haru’s shouting grew louder outside. "Makima! Open this fucking door before I break it down!" His voice cracked with rage. She exhaled shakily, rubbing her belly. "Bring him with you, he’ll try and break in if you leave him alone." You hesitated, then nodded—stepping outside to find Haru red-faced, fists clenched. You slung an arm around his shoulders, steering him away. "Haru, listen—" "Get off me!" He shoved you back, eyes wild. "She’s my wife!" His voice cracked. "Yes… but you just slapped her," you said lowly. His fists trembled. "I—I didn’t mean—" His anger dissolved into ragged breaths. "I’m sorry… I… I’m just so tired." Inside, Makima groaned softly, shifting on the couch. "Haru, go help Matthew pack my things," she called weakly. His shoulders slumped. "You’re really leaving?" he whispered. She touched her cheek where he’d struck her. "I need space right now, but this won’t be permanent." He swallowed hard and nodded.

You led Haru back to their house and began to pack her stuff—mostly maternity clothes, toiletries, and sentimental items like the knitted baby blanket she’d been working on. Haru hesitated by the dresser, picking up a framed photo of them on their wedding day. His fingers trembled around the frame. "I didn’t mean to hurt her," he murmured, more to himself than to you. Back at your place, Makima was sitting up now, breathing slowly through a contraction. "I should probably get some sleep… they’ll handle the rest without me," she said wryly, rubbing her belly. She closed her eyes for a moment before glancing toward the bedroom. "Too bad I wasn’t Matthew’s wife… then we’d be able to sleep together tonight." She chuckled weakly, but the exhaustion in her voice was unmistakable. Haru returned first, carrying a duffel bag stuffed with her belongings. He hesitated in the doorway, shoulders hunched. "Makima? I…" His voice cracked. She was fast asleep on the couch, her breathing slow and deep. Haru exhaled shakily, setting the bag down gently. "I’ll… I’ll come back tomorrow," he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. You nodded, watching him retreat into the night. Makima stirred slightly, her belly shifting as she mumbled something unintelligible. A soft kick pressed against the fabric of her shirt—gentler now, less frantic. You draped a blanket over her shoulders, careful not to wake her. She sighed in her sleep, curling slightly toward the warmth. Morning came with the scent of coffee and the sound of shuffling fabric. Makima was already awake, perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch with her hands braced on her knees. "Matthew? Where are you?" she called softly, her voice thick with sleep. You rounded the corner with two mugs in hand. "I was just in the kitchen—thought you could use some hot chocolate." She accepted it gratefully, her fingers brushing yours. "Looks like someone’s trying to prove he’s better than Haru," she teased, though her smile didn’t reach her eyes. The doorbell rang—sharp, hesitant. Haru stood on the porch, shoulders hunched, eyes red-rimmed. "Can I come in? Is Makima awake?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. Makima sighed, setting her mug down. "You might as well," she called out. Haru opened the door, hesitated, then knelt in front of her. "I was up all night thinking," he admitted, pressing his forehead against her knee. "I don’t know what’s wrong with me." Makima rested a hand on his head, fingers threading through his hair. "Haru, do you know what you did?" she asked quietly. Outside, the morning sun cast long shadows across the porch where Haru had left his laptop—still open, still running some late-night work. His hands trembled as he gripped the edge of the couch. "I hurt you," he whispered. Makima exhaled slowly, rubbing her belly where the babies stirred. "Yes," she agreed softly. "Do you remember what we agreed to on our wedding night?" she murmured. Haru swallowed hard. "No hitting," he mumbled. "No matter what." She lifted his chin with two fingers, her yellow eyes holding his. "And what would happen if one of us broken that promise?" A tear slid down Haru’s nose and splashed onto her knee. "The other would divorce the hitter," he whispered. Makima nodded once, then winced as a contraction rippled through her. "So you know what must happen now," she said through gritted teeth. Haru looked sick. "But the babies—" "You agreed to every detail of our promise," Makima interrupted, breathing sharply through another contraction. "Including handing over full custody if this ever happened." She groaned as another kick visibly shifted her swollen belly. Haru's hands hovered uselessly near her stomach before falling away. "Will… will I ever get to see them?" His voice cracked like a child's. Makima nodded slowly, rubbing the spot where tiny feet pressed outward. "Yes, we did agree that the one who striked the other forfeits custody… but still gets supervised visits." She sighed as another contraction made her grip the armrest. "Assuming you learn to tie up those hands of yours." Haru swallowed hard, staring at his own fingers like they belonged to someone else. "I'll go to anger management," he whispered. "Every day if I have to." Makima's expression softened slightly. "Good. Because if you ever raise a hand to me or these babies again, that'll be the last time you see any of us." The finality in her voice made him flinch. Outside, a car door slammed—the neighbor's teenage son leaving for school. The mundane sound made the moment feel painfully real. Haru wiped his face roughly with his sleeve. "Can I... at least drive you to your first ultrasound next week?" Makima hesitated, then shook her head. "Matthew can take me." Haru's shoulders slumped, but he nodded. "Right. Yeah. That's... that's fair." Makima shifted with another groan, pressing her hands into her lower back. "Haru, go home. Get some sleep." He looked like he wanted to argue, but stood stiffly instead. "I'll... call you later," he muttered, hesitating before pressing a kiss to her forehead. She allowed it, but her expression remained guarded until the front door clicked shut behind him. The silence stretched for a long moment before Makima exhaled shakily. "Well," she said with forced lightness, "that went surprisingly well for a man who slapped his pregnant wife twelve hours ago." You handed her the forgotten mug of hot chocolate, now lukewarm. She took it gratefully, her fingers brushing yours—warm despite the morning chill. "You're staying here then?" you asked. She nodded, sipping slowly. "Well, it depends on how long you’d want me," she mused, her tired eyes flickering up at you. "I’m not exactly small, and I’m a hormonal mess." "Makima," you said flatly, gesturing to her swollen belly—now visibly shifting as the babies rolled beneath her stretched skin. "Why did you two make such a... specific promise?" She laughed—a soft, brittle sound. "Because we both knew," she admitted, tracing idle circles over her stomach. "His father was the same way. Thought love meant control." Another contraction rippled through her, making her grip the mug tighter. "Haru swore he’d never repeat it. And yet..." You sat beside her, careful not to jostle her too much. The couch groaned under her shifting weight. "So what happens now?" you asked. Makima exhaled slowly, watching her belly rise and fall. "Now? I focus on these four." A tiny foot pressed outward sharply, making her wince. "Ow—yes, yes, I know, Mama’s stressed." She rubbed the spot gently before glancing at you sidelong. "Assuming you don’t mind a hormonal, hyper-pregnant woman invading your space." Before you could respond, she reached up and cupped your cheek—suddenly, tenderly. Her thumb brushed your skin. "You’re too kind," she murmured. "Most men would’ve slammed the door in my face." You snorted. "Most men aren’t exactly dealing with a six-foot-five pregnant woman who could probably bench-press them." Makima burst out laughing—a rich, warm sound that made her belly jiggle. "Fair point," she wheezed, clutching her sides. Outside, birds chirped—a mundane soundtrack to the surreal morning. Makima sighed, shifting her weight with a groan. "So… how’s living conditions going to work?" she asked, nodding toward your single bedroom. "I’m not exactly fitting on this couch long-term." You hesitated. "I can take the couch." She rolled her eyes. "Matthew, I’ll need this couch often, for naps, for… well, everything." Her fingers traced the swollen curve of her belly meaningfully. Her stomach suddenly gurgled loudly. "Oh goodness," she groaned, pressing a hand to her mouth. "Food… now please." You chuckled and headed to the kitchen. Behind you, Makima murmured, "And Matthew? Thank you." There was something raw in her voice—more than gratitude, something deeper. As you rummaged through the fridge, her voice carried softly from the living room. "Could you whip up something hearty, with lots of meat and soup? The babies demand protein." She punctuated this with a small groan as she shifted position. "That could also be why I’m so big… quadruplets tend to require extra everything."

You set a pot on the stove, the clatter of pans covering the sound of her slow, measured breaths. "Makima," you called over your shoulder, "you never mentioned it was four." She chuckled darkly. "Well, Haru didn’t exactly give me a chance to explain much last night." A pause, then fabric rustled as she suddenly popped open her white button-up shirt further, taking out one of her massive breasts—already leaking slightly—and started drinking from it herself with a relieved sigh. "Sorry. These feel like they’re gonna pop." The sight made you freeze mid-chop. She glanced up, one eyebrow arched as milk dribbled down her chin. "What? Never seen a woman sucking her own tit before?" You blinked. "Can’t say I have." She shrugged, shifting her grip on the swollen flesh. "Desperate times. Helps with the ache." The pot bubbled loudly, breaking the silence. Makima sighed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before tucking herself back in. "I should warn you—things are about to get messy. Four babies means four times the hormones, four times the leaks, four times the midnight cravings." She patted her belly fondly. "And apparently four times the attitude." You stirred the soup, glancing back at her. "You realize you're basically moving a maternity ward into my apartment, right?" She grinned, stretching her legs with a groan. "Think of it as immersive parenting practice. If you survive me, newborns will be a breeze." The front door creaked open suddenly—Haru stood frozen in the doorway, holding a paper bag. "I... brought breakfast." His eyes flicked to Makima's half-buttoned shirt, then away quickly. She sighed, pulling the fabric closed. "Haru… I was drinking my milk, nothing is happening." Haru hesitated, then set the bag on the coffee table with trembling hands. "Egg sandwiches," he muttered. "Extra cheese, just how you..." He trailed off, staring at her swollen belly. Makima glanced at you, then nodded toward the bag. "Matthew, can you hand me that bag? I want to check if they’re edible." Her tone was light, but the undercurrent was unmistakable—she didn’t trust him right now. You passed her the bag, watching as she peeled back the wrapper with deliberate slowness. She sniffed the sandwich, then took a tentative bite. "Hmm. Still warm," she admitted, chewing thoughtfully. Haru shifted his weight, eyes darting between her and the door. "I—I also packed your prenatal vitamins," he blurted, pulling a small bottle from his pocket. "They were on the nightstand." Makima paused mid-chew, her yellow eyes narrowing slightly. "You went through my things?" Her voice was dangerously calm. Haru blanched. "No! I mean, yes, but just to—" He cut himself off with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. "I wasn't thinking straight. I just wanted to help." She swallowed her bite with deliberate slowness, then set the sandwich down. "Haru," she said evenly, "go home. Sleep. Shower. I don’t need you popping in and out like a nervous squirrel." He flinched but nodded stiffly, backing toward the door. "I’ll...come back tomorrow?" The question hung in the air like a plea. Makima sighed, rubbing her belly where the babies kicked restlessly. "Yes, yes, just leave already," she muttered, waving him off with one hand while the other massaged a particularly active spot. The moment the door clicked shut, she sagged against the couch cushions with a groan. "Fuck, I need a bath." Her fingers plucked at her damp shirt where milk had soaked through. I never finished the story, sry.