Weightgainideas

(body swap, ssbbw) Chloe and Zoe Coleman were two vastly different people. Different in every sense of the word, save for the fact they were 'identical' twins. Chloe was everything a parent desired in a daughter. Anything in her childhood she put her mind to; acing her SATs, captaining varsity volleyball, saving cats from trees; the young girl did it all without breaking so much of a sweat (though far too humble to admit it). Through a mix of genetic gifts and gym grifts, Chloe as an adult possessed platinum blonde, naturally wavy hair, a perky, squat-constructed butt, a rail-thin middle and an ample chest. Rearing such a prodigious child, though their parents would never say, diverted some attention away from Chloe’s double. It was never to a negligible level, of course, but there were certainly times when Chloe had been disciplined for things Zoe freely indulged in. Among those were too many video games, sleeping in too late, or, which would become most impactive of all, eating

Life as a bodybuilding influencer was a full-time job. I spent my days training at the gym and filming videos for my millions of followers. I had so much energy and motivation, pouring it all into making my physique the best it could possibly be. I was the picturesque symbol of health and fitness. I was worshipped. Idolised, even, if you can believe it. All it took was a few pictures of my chiselled abs and I received endless attention and praise. That was years ago now. Now, I’m just another employee at a retail store. As a Walmart “store assistant", I spend every day on my feet, doing the same thing repeatedly. I'm so tired I can hardly summon the energy to finish my shift. My size still gets people's attention, but they never see me as a person - just a huge mass of flesh that takes up too much space. People don’t even recognize me as “LeanBeefPatty” anymore. Sometimes I don’t either. My co-workers only know me as my current self - 'Patty The Fatty’, as I heard one of them

Arthur idly tapped on the tip of his stylus. This art block had gone on far too long, and he was running out of both ideas to break the rut and money to break the monthly rent. He had tried AI scheduling apps, studied quasi-professional YouTube lectures, even ventured into an ill-attempted return to paper. But none worked. So now Arthur was here, much to his dignity's chagrin. 'Cordelia's Café'. Arthur was fully aware of the ‘hipster who draws in cafés’ stereotype, but it unfortunately was the last remaining solution in his head. If he didn't put his faith into this, it was time to pack up his dream job of ballooning fictional fat girls into morbid obesity. Maybe move back home and enter that community college course his mother always pressed him to join. His fidgeting ceased when a lady came with his cappuccino, but strengthened again once Arthur realised there was no more time left to procrastinate. What would he do? What could he do? The Patreon numbers were waning. It had to