Curator's Creation

Chapters 1 & 2

Emma liked to think she understood how her neighborhood worked - mornings were busy, evenings were calm.
But lately the calm felt too calm, like the intensity of the whole city had been turned down a notch.
People smiled longer, argued less, and moved more slowly, in a way that didn't feel normal. She noticed it again on her walk home. A couple who should've been arguing were whispering kindly to each other. A shopkeeper apologized for a mistake with a calmness that didn't match the situation.
Everything felt softened, like the edges had been rounded off.
When she reached the apartment, Jennifer was already on the couch with her sketchbook open, though she hadn't drawn much. She looked unusually relaxed.
"You're home early," Jennifer said, her voice steady and warm.
"Everyone's home early lately," Emma said, dropping her bag. "It's like the whole city decided to slow down."
Jennifer shrugged. "Maybe people are finally taking better care of themselves."
Emma wanted to agree, but something about it felt off.
On the counter were two cans of a new drink called Happy Hour.
"Where'd you get these?" Emma asked.
"A kiosk that popped up near the studio," Jennifer said. "I swear it wasn't there before. It's supposed to help people relax. Everyone at the studio drinks it."
Emma opened one, mostly out of curiosity. It smelled mild and tasted fine, nothing special. But within minutes, she felt a warm, easy calm spreading through her body. Her shoulders loosened. The tension she'd been carrying all day faded before she could even think about it.
Jennifer smiled. "See? It's nice."
Emma nodded, though something about the feeling bothered her. The calm came too fast, too completely. But it felt good, and questioning it suddenly felt unnecessary.
Outside, the city lights came on at the same moment. The streets grew quiet in a smooth, orderly way. Emma watched from the window, holding the half-finished drink, wondering if she was imagining things - or if something was really different.
Jennifer leaned against her shoulder, relaxed and content. Emma let herself lean back, deciding she'd think about everything tomorrow.
For now, the calm was enough.

Emma hadn't meant to make Happy Hour part of her routine. It simply kept appearing - in her hand after class, on her desk during study breaks, tucked into her bag by well-meaning classmates who said things like, "You look like you could use one."
The kiosks had multiplied across the neighborhood, bright and inviting, always stocked, always nearby.
On a mild Thursday morning, she tugged on her jeans and felt the waistband resist. Not dramatically - just a firmer squeeze around her hips, a quiet reminder that she'd been eating more than usual. Her appetite had crept up in ways she couldn't quite explain: extra snacks, late-night cravings, a sudden fondness for warm, heavy foods she used to avoid during the week.
But it wasn't just hunger. She'd been sleeping more, too - long, dreamless stretches that left her groggy and slow in the morning. She hit the snooze button more often, missing her morning runs.
She also seemed to move slower and cared less about... well, anything. She told herself it was stress. Or winter. Or both.
Outside, the neighborhood moved with the same softened rhythm she'd first noticed two weeks earlier - only now it felt deeper, more settled. People walked slower, lingered longer, drifted instead of hurried. Conversations were quieter. Laughter was softer, and more frequent.
The city's new Glide vehicles hummed quietly along the streets - small, rounded, driverless pods people summoned with a tap on their phones, or that simply waited in busy areas, always ready.
They had appeared almost overnight, replacing most of the old bus routes and bike lanes. And they were free.
Now, instead of walking, people slipped into the nearest pod and let it take them wherever they needed to go. They were so convenient that people started using them for trips of only a few blocks. The doors opened with a soft chime, the seats warm and cushioned, the lighting dim and soothing.
Like everyone else, Emma started using them without even thinking about it. Besides... it was easier than walking.
At the café, Jennifer was already waiting for Emma, sipping a Happy Hour with the ease of someone who no longer questioned the habit. Her sweater - the same one she'd worn last month - clung differently now, stretched gently across her middle. Her cheeks looked rounder. Her posture looser.
"You're early," Emma said.
"I woke up starving," Jennifer replied with a sheepish smile. "Again."
Emma noticed the crumbs on her plate, which meant the pastry in her hand was her second. Two weeks ago, she barely ate breakfast at all.
But it wasn't just the food. Jennifer moved differently now - slower, more relaxed, like every step took a little more effort.
Her voice was softer, missing its usual edge. Even her laugh sounded gentler, almost sleepy.
When Emma ordered her own Happy Hour, it struck her, how normal it had all become. She and Jennifer had been drinking several cans of Happy Hour every day, ever since that first taste two weeks ago. What had started as curiosity had slipped into routine, then into something closer to dependence, so quietly she hadn't noticed the shift until now.
Immediately after her first swallow, she felt the familiar wave of ease settle over her. The tension in her shoulders dissolved, and the snugness of her jeans no longer seemed to be a concern.
When Emma looked around the café, and it seemed like everyone was drinking a Happy Hour.
Later, looking out the Glide vehicle window on her way home, Emma spotted more signs of the change.
A man paused halfway up a short flight of stairs, catching his breath with a faint, embarrassed smile. A woman tugged at her shirt, adjusting it over a stomach that probably hadn't been there two weeks ago. A group of students joked about "Happy Hour weight," laughing it off as if it were a shared inside joke. Their backpacks sagged with the weight of multiple cans.
At home, Emma changed into sweatpants and felt an unexpected relief at the looser waistband. She told herself she'd go for a run tomorrow, but the thought of exertion felt distant, unappealing. Her running shoes sat by the door, untouched for the past two weeks.
Emma curled up on the couch with another Happy Hour, letting the warmth spread through her. Her thoughts softened. Her worries thinned. The world felt pleasantly muted.
Jennifer joined her, settling in with a contented sigh. She rested her head on Emma's shoulder, heavier than usual, her body warm and soft.
"I could get used to this," she murmured.
Emma didn't disagree. The comfort was contagious. Her mind drifted. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt truly alert.
Outside, the city lights flickered on in perfect unison. The streets were now quiet.
She took another sip, letting the calm wash over her, and told herself she'd think about it later.
Later kept drifting further away.

If you want to read the rest of this story, the full 27‑chapter version is available:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GJM2 F9X6/


About the Author

Max Freeman writes character driven fat fetish / weight gain fiction that explores appetite, transformation, and the emotional charge behind gaining weight and giving in. His stories follow people who lean into desire, curiosity, and the thrill of watching their bodies change, always with a focus on warmth, intimacy, and the psychology of indulgence.

Max's work blends slow burn tension with a body positive lens, creating short, provocative novelettes that celebrate softness, growth, and the freedom to take up space. He continues to build a catalog of stories that center pleasure, vulnerability, and the complicated ways we relate to our bodies.


To see all of Steven's books, visit his Amazon author page:

www.amazon.com/author/maxfreeman
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Also by the Author:

Choosing Fat follows a woman who finally stops fighting her appetite and lets herself grow into the body she's always secretly wanted. What begins as a small indulgence becomes a full surrender to softness, pleasure, and the thrill of watching herself change. It's a slow, intimate transformation story about desire, acceptance, and the moment she realizes she doesn't want to go back.

You can find Choosing Fat on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GKQFKJ7K



Yo-Yo Diet is about a woman trapped in the cycle of losing weight, gaining it back, and pretending she's in control. When her latest "diet" collapses, she finds herself slipping into a deeper, more honest relationship with her appetite - and with the softness she's been trying to hide. It's emotional, vulnerable, and centered on the quiet moments where she realizes she might actually like the body she's growing into.

You can find Yo-Yo Diet on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GMJSGSDH



Fat Desire is a story of attraction, indulgence, and the slow realization that wanting more - more food, more softness, more pleasure - isn't something to be ashamed of. It follows a character who discovers how intoxicating it feels to let go, to grow, and to be seen in her fullness. It's warm, sensual, and focused on the emotional pull of transformation.

You can find Fat Desire on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GNHC4N2H