#cassevermore

Her body is bloated with sensation.

This isn’t just a fat suit — it’s alive. It responds. It breathes. It sweats.

Ellie can feel everything: the cool tickle of air across a roll, the unbearable heft of shifting her own mass… even the way her belly tugs at her shirt like it wants to take control.

She’s in there, she’s sure of it. But it’s getting harder to tell who’s watching who.

She thought if she stayed in the car, maybe she’d be safe.

But of course someone had to show up. Of course it had to be someone from before.

Kate’s words might’ve trailed off… but her face said it all.

Ellie wasn’t “Ellie” anymore. She was something else.

And even though Alex stepped in, the damage was already done.

This wasn’t just weight. This was exposure. Humiliation.

And all she could do was sit there and cry.

There’s no hiding anymore.

Ellie steps out of the car like she’s stepping onto a stage — not by choice, but because the spotlight follows her body everywhere now. The way her hips shift beneath the floral dress, the tremble in her arms as she pulls the blanket tighter — you feel the fear in her silence.

And yet… she walks.

This page hurts in the most beautiful way. I’ve felt it too — the moment you realize you can’t shrink anymore, so the only thing left to do… is move forward.

They waited for nightfall. For quiet. For shadows.

Because sometimes the biggest girl in the world still wants to disappear.

And he didn’t ask for thanks. He just knelt in front of her… Held those Crocs steady… And waited for her swollen feet to slide inside.

It was the tiniest, gentlest humiliation. And yet — it meant freedom. Just enough plastic and dignity to walk out the door.

And oh… Can you imagine needing Crocs that size? The soft slap of every step… The squish of your belly with every movement… Your thighs so thick they waddle with no effort… Needing help just to get shoes on… and still knowing someone wants you like that.