Vriska's Training P1 - Homestuck WG

(Warning: contains male and female weight gain and a complete disregard to canon…sorry…)

The problem with Earth was that it had food.

Good food.

It wasn't her fault for eating it, of course. That boring boy John just felt he knew some contest that he might have an edge at.  An edge! After all, such hubris! All to the person who raised him from obscurity into greatness? Well, that was all she needed to hear.

Vriska and John had sat across from one another, piles and piles of food. Plates of meat, vegetables, you name it, it was there. Courtesy of that freaky old lady sprite John kept hanging around. Freaky--of course, most sprites were. This sprite needed more limbs.

Back in her old world, food was--well, she didn't eat much. Most of the food she had was fed to her dear custodian. She was a bit slim--not too skinny, after all. She had boobs that totally were real. She didn't drown her curves in clothing, either, like, hide her flat chest behind baggy--that wasn't a confession.

Still, this food--flavor, words to explain what flavor was, she just couldn't--she just knew she needed more. After finishing her plate of juicy beef, stir-fried broccoli, all over this grain called rice--she had more, this time battered onion rings with a three layered cheeseburger--that's what John called it.

Anyway, John, predictably, only lasted three plates.  He just leaned back, massaging his belly like some derpy little idiot. He had that dazed and confused look he always wore. Seriously, for someone raised from greatness, how often did he just fail?

Sure, he finished it a little faster, but--that meant nothing.

"So you're giving up?  Weak.  That's what you are, weak."

John wore that derpy smirk again. "You're on your second plate." He patted his belly in triumph. Sure, it stuck out a little from all that food, but--well, it was clear that John enjoyed eating food. He did look a little filled out--like, soft. Cushiony. His belly didn't stick out normally, but, when poking him, it was clear he was out of shape. Not strong like she was.

"I can eat anything. Just you watch."

"But your belly looks full--"

"You need glasses if you think that."

"I'm wearing--"

"Figure of speech. God, you are dense."

John patted his filled tummy.  "My belly is dense."

Maybe when it was full, but, usually…

Still, by the time Vriska reached her third plate, she too felt her gut expand, too full to continue.  She dropped to the floor, cradled up in a lose fetal position. Tears nearly came to her eyes. John looked concerned--eyes wide, skin pale--was he pitying her?

Or was he afraid she'd win?

"If I could roll to keep eating, I'd do it right now," Vriska muttered, "See? That's what makes you weak.  You give up too quickly."

"Aren't you giving up--?"

"I need to push you to greatness. Serious, serious greatness." Vriska pushed herself up, grabbed a burger, and jammed it in John's mouth. He stammered, nearly choked on it, but Vriska pushed it down his protesting esophagus.

John doubled over, gasping for air, clutching his throat.  "That--that--why did you do--?"

"Making you strong.  You can't just stop there." Vriska harpooned broccoli off another dish, and shoved it into John's mouth.  He hesitantly chewed.

"If I keep this up, my stomach will blow up, or the food might come up, like in Alien."

Vriska scowled. "That is the most generic title ever.  Jegus, these movies of yours--so generic. Only a ninth as good as our films, which don't even deserve an eighteenth of my attention.  That's how bad they were."  Vriska then glanced at the clock to make sure she had enough time to sneak back to her room, and set the recorder to capture that re-airing of Con Air in HD. Youtube quality could no longer suffice.

"Well, you still lost."

Vriska grabbed a chicken tender. "No I didn't."

"Yeah, you need to eat too."  John sloppily redirected Vriska's hand, pushing the chicken through her lips. She gagged--then moaned in delicious pleasure.

"I coulda choked, idiot." Vriska slapped John across the head, at which he curled up, tears in his eyes. Adorable kid. Still, maybe she could use more chicken.

By the time the two of them finished, their bellies were bloated, sticking out as far as their lap--well, not pressing on their lap, but some of her lap was covered up a bit--just a bit.  It hurt, too, packed with food and--and--

"BURRRRPPPP~~~!!!!" Vriska placed a hand over her mouth, cheeks red. That sound--deep within her. She felt less pain, but still--just slipped right out. Why was John giggling like that? He let out a little, kiddy sized burp, inferior in all respects to hers.  A little boy, playing with a titan. How fit.

She had no idea what was to befall them.