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Description
You awake from your nap in the living room to the sound of the front door opening and the sound of bags rustling. You lift your heavy body from the softness of the couch as you look to see who came home. Within a few seconds, you’re greeted to the presence of an older, scruffy looking man wearing a tired expression. An expression that is becoming rarer by the day.

“I’m home,” the man announced. You welcome him back in return as he removes his red cap and yellow hazard vest from his body, setting them on the coat rack nearby. You make space for him on the couch as he sets bags of what appear to be take-out on the coffee table and prepares to relax for the night. “Did ya miss me?” You nod in the affirmative, taking a good look at him. The term “fat fucking raccoon” echoed in your mind, remembering what he said about himself when you started going steady. Indeed, the man had grown in the time you’ve spent together. The black crew shirt that had once fit him had now grown far too tight and too small with a sliver of brown peeking through; the definitive proof of one too many late night dinner dates. Even his dark grey work pants were starting to wear themselves out. Honestly, it was his face that seemed to survive the slow thickening over the months. You’re brought out of your thoughts by him wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you close. You turn beat red as he looks to you with a faint smile.

“You don’t mind keeping me company for a while, don’t ya?” Once again, you answer in the affirmative and you could swear that his smile became brighter. The soft, quiet moment between the two of you is interrupted by a low growl by the large ball of dough sitting beside you. He chuckles a bit as he remembers the dinner he brought home, proceeding to sit up and grab one of the take-out bags and bring out a large Styrofoam container of teriyaki chicken and rice, all slathered in extra teriyaki sauce. You then sit up and offer to feed it to him, which he happily obliges. Using his belly as a table, you set the container down and slowly fork a large bite-full of chicken and rice and begin feeding him. With every bite, the man would moan with pleasure and give a lazy, satisfied smile with every swallow. As you use your right hand to feed him dinner, you instinctively use your left hand to rub his belly and ease the ensuing digestion. Within a few minutes, he finishes off the teriyaki chicken and motions you to grab the next bag.

You continue this song and dance for about a half an hour or so, feeding him two additional courses. One was a hefty plate of cheeseburger mac and cheese with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy, while the other was another Chinese dish: sweet and sour chicken. The latter was where you two got a little spicy, as you hand-fed the chicken and then poured the sauce into his mouth while it was still full. Crumbs and sauce would end up getting caught in his beard and dribbling onto his shirt… which, on that note, was slowly riding up with every dish. At one point, you dug underneath his rotund flab and undid his pants button, causing his belly to surge forth a good two inches, showing just how bloated he was becoming. However, he didn’t seem to care; the man was too caught up in the bliss of being fed by someone who genuinely wanted to see him heal from legitimate trauma. Having his wife and daughter killed, having survived a living nightmare of a literal ghost town, and then having to help save the literal multiverse would do numbers to one’s mental health. Lately though, he has been feeling much better and less paranoid… and that was largely thanks to you.

As he finishes the last of the sweet and sour chicken, he lets out a hefty belch followed by a deep grunt. He lifts his hand to rub and pat his swollen belly; his navel now showing as it had rode up a good few inches.

“Damn, kid,” the man groaned, punctuating his statement with another belch. “I think I had too much.” You decide to lift up his shit and continue rubbing his now fully exposed gut, providing a small bit of comfort to him. He started purring like a kitten, a faint smile creeping up on his face as he began melting on the spot. You look behind you and notice that there is one more container that hadn’t been touched. You reach over and open it up to reveal a large berry pie topped with whipped cream; and it wasn’t a slice of pie, but a full sized 15 inch diameter pie! Before the thought crosses your mind, the man interrupts with a loud belch and an almost pleading look in his eyes. “Kid, look… I know I’m pretty stuffed here, but… you know I can’t resist a good pie. So… can you please…?” He didn’t even need to finish the question. You dig a fork into the pie and ready it towards his mouth…

“Anything for you, Gus…”

====================================================

Just a quick doodle and a drabble of Gus as he appears after the events of "THE PARADOX SYNDROME"! Looks like he's finally healing from his trauma...

Description
You awake from your nap in the living room to the sound of the front door opening and the sound of bags rustling. You lift your heavy body from the softness of the couch as you look to see who came home. Within a few seconds, you’re greeted to the presence of an older, scruffy looking man wearing a tired expression. An expression that is becoming rarer by the day.

“I’m home,” the man announced. You welcome him back in return as he removes his red cap and yellow hazard vest from his body, setting them on the coat rack nearby. You make space for him on the couch as he sets bags of what appear to be take-out on the coffee table and prepares to relax for the night. “Did ya miss me?” You nod in the affirmative, taking a good look at him. The term “fat fucking raccoon” echoed in your mind, remembering what he said about himself when you started going steady. Indeed, the man had grown in the time you’ve spent together. The black crew shirt that had once fit him had now grown far too tight and too small with a sliver of brown peeking through; the definitive proof of one too many late night dinner dates. Even his dark grey work pants were starting to wear themselves out. Honestly, it was his face that seemed to survive the slow thickening over the months. You’re brought out of your thoughts by him wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you close. You turn beat red as he looks to you with a faint smile.

“You don’t mind keeping me company for a while, don’t ya?” Once again, you answer in the affirmative and you could swear that his smile became brighter. The soft, quiet moment between the two of you is interrupted by a low growl by the large ball of dough sitting beside you. He chuckles a bit as he remembers the dinner he brought home, proceeding to sit up and grab one of the take-out bags and bring out a large Styrofoam container of teriyaki chicken and rice, all slathered in extra teriyaki sauce. You then sit up and offer to feed it to him, which he happily obliges. Using his belly as a table, you set the container down and slowly fork a large bite-full of chicken and rice and begin feeding him. With every bite, the man would moan with pleasure and give a lazy, satisfied smile with every swallow. As you use your right hand to feed him dinner, you instinctively use your left hand to rub his belly and ease the ensuing digestion. Within a few minutes, he finishes off the teriyaki chicken and motions you to grab the next bag.

You continue this song and dance for about a half an hour or so, feeding him two additional courses. One was a hefty plate of cheeseburger mac and cheese with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy, while the other was another Chinese dish: sweet and sour chicken. The latter was where you two got a little spicy, as you hand-fed the chicken and then poured the sauce into his mouth while it was still full. Crumbs and sauce would end up getting caught in his beard and dribbling onto his shirt… which, on that note, was slowly riding up with every dish. At one point, you dug underneath his rotund flab and undid his pants button, causing his belly to surge forth a good two inches, showing just how bloated he was becoming. However, he didn’t seem to care; the man was too caught up in the bliss of being fed by someone who genuinely wanted to see him heal from legitimate trauma. Having his wife and daughter killed, having survived a living nightmare of a literal ghost town, and then having to help save the literal multiverse would do numbers to one’s mental health. Lately though, he has been feeling much better and less paranoid… and that was largely thanks to you.

As he finishes the last of the sweet and sour chicken, he lets out a hefty belch followed by a deep grunt. He lifts his hand to rub and pat his swollen belly; his navel now showing as it had rode up a good few inches.

“Damn, kid,” the man groaned, punctuating his statement with another belch. “I think I had too much.” You decide to lift up his shit and continue rubbing his now fully exposed gut, providing a small bit of comfort to him. He started purring like a kitten, a faint smile creeping up on his face as he began melting on the spot. You look behind you and notice that there is one more container that hadn’t been touched. You reach over and open it up to reveal a large berry pie topped with whipped cream; and it wasn’t a slice of pie, but a full sized 15 inch diameter pie! Before the thought crosses your mind, the man interrupts with a loud belch and an almost pleading look in his eyes. “Kid, look… I know I’m pretty stuffed here, but… you know I can’t resist a good pie. So… can you please…?” He didn’t even need to finish the question. You dig a fork into the pie and ready it towards his mouth…

“Anything for you, Gus…”

====================================================

Just a quick doodle and a drabble of Gus as he appears after the events of "THE PARADOX SYNDROME"! Looks like he's finally healing from his trauma...