#temp muse: samus

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Based off a DM from @pudgy-planets that I thought deserved it's own post.

Trillian, making the often used term mountainous more fitting for herself with each bite and swallow she took, more food than most people consumed in their whole lives passing through her lips like water. Her gut growled and churned as it inched forward minute by minute, the sloppy sounds of the trainers eating unable to contain the moaning emanating from the center-most roll of her stomach, a pair of very large protuberances rounding out that particular area of her gut and pushing out every so often as the woman within set herself upon the feast Trillian was providing with as much gusto as the pale woman herself.

Samus sitting back with a groan, rubbing her stomach down in stilted motions as she struggled to breathe. Her stomach had been packed full to near bursting with the whole of the restaurants menu and at least a week's worth of their supply of ingredients before she'd gulped down the mouthy little blonde cursing up a storm at Trillian's gut fat after she'd eaten that Minako woman. And the little hellion had only redoubled her spitting and thrashing since she went down, no matter how much Samus had eaten to try and drown her in food. If she of slightly sounder mind, she'd probably be able to come to the conclusion that putting more food in her stomach was merely giving the tiny brat more fuel with which to kick and flail at the walls of her current abode. But Samus was not and so she, with a groan and a belch, took a hand off her taut and squirmy stomach to reach for yet another burger.

Emerald, unused to the kind of gorging that either of her psycho coworkers regularly indulged in but also refusing to be left in the dust had clearly gone overboard. The distension of her belly was shaken by the unhappy growls of he intestines working at a snail's pace to break down the slurry of fast food she'd nearly choked herself with trying to match even a fraction of their paces, her jaw and throat muscles unable to hold a candle to their abilities to stretch. But that wasn't the worst of it. Oh no. it was the tiny, blue-skinned chick with an absolute monster of an ass that had taken one look at the two nutters next to Emerald cramming their mouths full of fat-booty blondes and decided she wanted in on that action, shoving herself donk first into Emerald's face to send the huntress sprawling on her spectacularly fat ass and somehow, somehow cramming what had to be a hundred and ten pounds of sweaty berry flavored booty down her very much aching jaw. She wasn't gonna be able to chew right for weeks.

#v/ore #muse: wft #temp muse: samus #temp muse: emerald #fast food au

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Super model

vs

Woman working the McDonalds drive-thru

#muse: nemuri kayama #muse: sae niijima #temp muse: samus #muse: carmilla #dash commentary

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Ziggy, dumb idea-

But Samus restoring her suit’s functionalities from eating various foods cooked for her.

She attains her gravity suit from consuming blueberry pancakes-

Instead of statues holding Item Spheres, Samus often finds a variety of plates on the ground in front of her, each one containing a different kind of food, with one of them being the one to restore her suit's functions. If she picks correctly she gets it back but if she picks wrong she has to fight one of the statues.

Each food is one she either had in her youth before the attack on her home planet or one she was given by the Chozos around the time that her birthday rolled around, even though neither she nor her caretakers acknowledged the day aloud.

#temp muse: samus #pudgy-planets #I'm sorry this is bad I had a really tough time with this

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Imagining her coming to JATB early in the morning on her stroll to the farmer’s market in order to apologize to the staff about her daughter’s frequent antagonizing and delinquent behavior in their establishment.

Giving each of the workers a pat on the head, pinch of their cheeks, and gifting them with a big bag of fruits, veggies, and cheese for them all to share.

Typically stuck with the opening shift and thus most likely to receive her visit.

Carmilla reassures her they've had much less savory individuals than Himiko pass through their establishment and that some of them found her behavior more endearing than anything, bar the occasions she'd try to eat equipment. Unable to hide her face's flush at the affection and simply thanking her for the gift.

Mordred just kind of stutters a bit, such a blatant display of kindness sending him into a tizzy and then she just shuts his mouth for him while he's still gawking and he just goes back to his post with a rushed 'thankyoumiss!'

Emerald tries to deflect a bit from the apology by asking if she wanted anything to order. And might flinch away a bit from the physical contact.

Samus just thanks her for the gifts and wonders who her daughter is for her to be apologizing. After all the only short blonde delinquent antagonizing people in the restaurant is Mordred and occasionally that Ibaraki-dojin.

#fast food au #pudgy-planets #muse: carmilla #muse: mordred #temp muse: emerald #temp muse: samus

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Samus clutching at the edges of her near perfectly smooth stomach to keep it from lurching out of her shirt while she walks out from her food disposal job. She hates the menial work but money is money...Least jobs like these save her time on grocery shopping.

#temp muse: samus

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The streets were quiet but for the low buzz of streetlights and the slow whistle of the wind.

""HUUOOOOUUURRRRRGHHHHPPPP!!""

The silence was smashed to pieces by a sound so deep, so teeth-rattlingly loud the dead could've awoken. That sound was actually two sounds, coming from a pair that could not have been more different and yet in this moment appeared almost identical.

Samus Aran and Ryuji Sakamoto. The Hunter and the Skull. Both having just been expelled from the depths of the yellow halls they'd found themselves trapped within for the past...okay neither of them could remember exactly when they'd gotten trapped. Or how long it had been. To be fair even if they weren't preoccupied there was no real way of telling time in the backrooms.

And there was no way of telling how long they'd been outside of the backrooms either. Their faces had fattened up quite a bit thanks to all their feasting, so much that they couldn't really see the sun past the expanse of their cheeks. Of course that also included their...everything else. Literally everything else...

They're fucking fat okay. Gargantuan, obese, elephantine, colossal, a dozen other synonyms that still can't quite capture how absolutely jaw-droppingly massive these two have gotten. Considering what they've been doing since hour, what, three of getting trapped in the backrooms it's not really a surprise now is it?

The pair of them had literally been eating non-stop for weeks, the concept of fullness being nothing more than a memory of the past as their limbs slowly bloated up into utter uselessness and the ever widening halls of the rooms struggled to contain their nude girth, vents getting clogged with the steam of their sweat. Of course their hands and fingers getting too fat to grab the food hadn't stopped them from eating, the table seemed to respond to their plight and soon the food began to come to them. Whenever they looked at a plate or piece of food and simply thought 'I want that' it would be right on one of their chins the next time they blinked, sliding towards their mouth to get slurped up.

Hundreds of pounds of food had been consumed like this, hundreds which soon became thousands, and so on until the end of the month struck and they were out on their enormous asses, not even sleep being enough to keep their endless binging at bay. And so the first of the consequences of their actions were made known as they reentered real space. That being...

""GWWOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRROOOOOOORRRRRPPPPP!!!!!""

How much room they really took up. The width between buildings was insufficient for individuals as large as them, indeed not even the skinniest section of their forearms would've been able to fit within alleys able to hold dump trucks with ease. So when they made landfall it had the instant result of annihilating several surrounding structures and cratering the ground several dozens of meters around them.

Bellies that rose higher than gymnasiums and howled, churned and gurgled with bounties of food that lay firmly in the sextuple digits in terms of weight, lined with stretch marks wider than roads. Thighs that could blanket warehouses, thickening as they went up until merging with hips so vast they could almost be considered a horizon. Literal tons of back fat, cascading downwards in a river of lard to blanket the upper edges of mountainous hindquarters that pulverized any surface they came into contact with into pure rubble. Fat chests that sagged with weight and dripped with sweat mixed in with the greasy remnants of their spilled supper, bouncing with each hiccup or roaring belch that came from their lips, nipples larger than truck tires harder than stone in the air.

All pressed against one another and sliding together like the two were fighting for dominance, the crater they crafted not large enough for them, making the dual blonde blobs look like scoops of ice cream flowing out from an undersized bowl.

This is how they spent their Halloween. And probably how they'll spend Thanksgiving too.

#temp muse: samus #muse: ryuji #just a mumble #heavyweight

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Samus laying on her side in bed, belching every other snore with half-eaten cookies and melted ice cream spilling from her cleavage, surrounded by pretzel bags, empty peanut butter jars, and crushed beer cans. Her gut pushed out and slowly sliding her off her bed, greasy palm prints and what may be chhicken wings stuck to it.

Her bed shorts pushed so low on her hips her half-erect dick was on the verge of springing out, with her rumbling nads not far behind.

#slobby samus is a frequent thought #temp muse: samus

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>Checking to see if she's hallucinating.

>Confirming she is not.

>Stripping out of her Zero Suit and leaping towards the plate.

>Belching.

>Rubbing her full, squirmy stomach and falling into a food coma on top of the plate.

#temp muse: samus #dash commentary #from like ten minutes ago #v/ore #ami is making her way onto Samus' 'wanna date' list

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Women with tits so mindbogglingly huge and heavy that when they stretch, the cracks of their backs sound like the wooden hull of a ship splintering apart.

#temp! muse: sindel #temp muse: samus #muse: sae niijima #temp! muse: tamamo no mae

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Samus has been fine. She's just been busy with contracts, her...side jobs, and other activities.

"Uuhh, are you sure this isn't too much for the first date? I-I mean it's not that big a deal I just th-thought maybe we'd wait a bit longer for this kind of stuff."

She's been trying to get in the dating scene. The results have been rather...inconclusive shall we say.

#temp muse: samus #dash commentary

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Samus stomach wobbling out from beneath her clothes with each laborious step she takes, purposeful stride replaced with a slow bow-legged lumber as fullness keeps her sluggish and sleepy.

#temp muse: samus

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You’d really think that Samus was a famous legendary bounty hunter, but in reality she’s a huge fatty who sits on her ass all day piloting the suit that made her famous

Actually she is a bounty hunter and is legendary, just...slowing down you could say. She's been getting less and less contracts lately and you can only save the galaxy so many times before the remaining threats cut their losses and move to a different one.

She has more than enough money saved up to buy her own little planet and set it up to be impregnable, live out the rest of her days in peace. But she doesn't really want that, at least not yet.

But yeah she is still fat as fack though. But she can still squeeze into her suit so who's gonna say it to her face?

#temp muse: samus #wideworkload

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Both of them are working as the waitresses today.

#fast food au #temp muse: samus #muse: wft

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^Can fit an entire portable mortar assembly kit in her cleavage.

#temp muse: samus

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Futa Samus training her legs so she can stimulate herself with nothing but the squeezing and flexing of her thighs.

#temp muse: samus

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Bulging bounty hunter belly, tits resting atop her stomach like it's a throne and pushing the band of her pants so low on her hips she's practically bottomless.

She could use some rubs to be honest.

And a few sandwiches.

#temp muse: samus