horny for state puff marshmallow girls

22 🏳️‍⚧️she/her/hers🏳️‍⚧️ 155 lbs of dyke and counting 18+

[nobrainsonlychub]

Shout out to @tgoblingirl for being an awesome mutual and an lovely friend, I love you so much girl

[tgoblingirl]

Aahhh thankiess girl

Ive been so lucky to meet u and am glad ur my friend toooooo 💚💚💚

[nobrainsonlychub]

I'm so happy to share community with you, its a genuine treat to know you 💜💜💜💜

[kenziekinziebbw]

Put your face in it🤤

[goatstrogen]

being a tgirl in 2026 really is like: lets chat on signal and buy drugs from the dark web

[softeningscript]

Happy Endings

It was never easy. The blinding, burning, constricting fog that was growing up, squashed under your family's thumb, forever lonely, misunderstood even by yourself. The endless wait to 18, and then once it was there, burning bridges to get out, cramming your books into an old car that barely ran, working full-time at a drive-through just to pay the bills while handling a full course load to build a future. You were still broke, gorging on wrong orders and stale food when your manager wasn't looking to save on groceries. Still always hungry, still always lonely. You were deformed after all, it seemed, friendless nearly forever, branded with the sign of the freak. Nothing to be done. You stayed quiet, stayed sealed up, cherished the few points of light you had—food, music, a handful of friends. You dated, but nothing lasted, heartbreak after inevitable heartbreak, the girls who were bad for you obsessed with you beyond reason and the girls who might've been good for you not interested, wanting somebody who was "more of a man". You thought grad school would finally be different, but it was more of the same, more choking scalding smoke in your eyes and ears. You finally got what you'd been working toward your whole life and it was the same ash in your mouth, and nothing was left but a long life of despair, the end, and then the outer darkness.

Those thoughts are hard to dig up, now. Twenty-five years of life lived and maybe a few years of memories to show for it, the rest lost or buried or burned with a purpose. You don't remember starting to remember, actually, not sure what cracked your egg. A song, maybe, or just a post. Beautiful women in your Twitter recommendations who liked the typical things and had HRT in their bio. And once you knew you could be a woman, you couldn't stop thinking about it, staying up late to research it while the woman who enjoyed nothing more than pushing past your No slept next to you in bed. You went to a sketchy website, ignored the risks, and got the little blue pills shipped to a friend's. And a few weeks later, in a plain white box, your future was waiting for you, little drops of sky in a blister pack.

You tried it, and there was no indecision then, no uncertainty, the machinery of your soul coming alive for the first time. For the first time in your life, you didn't want to die. Things mattered.

Things got worse; they had to. You broke off the engagement—you cared how you were treated now—and begged a friend to move into their spare room, and told no one but a trusted few who you were, and you kept taking the pills. Every day you felt better, stronger, more alive, something dormant and nearly dead brought back into life and full flower. You wanted things, and you wanted to want them. You were hungry, and now you could eat.

And good God, did you eat. You'd always been hungry, making a dancing bear of yourself about it, eating two entrees at dinners and begging for people's leftovers, sneaking extra orders of chicken and fries into the deep fryer at work when you could eat get away with it, but now you were you, and what you ate became you. Your patchy denial beard was quickly forgotten, your hips widened, your tits grew so fast they tore your skin again and again, your face rounded out cherubically. Your skin cleared up, thinned out, was silk under your fingers.

You got a real job, moved to a good town, a little queer enclave, walkable and beautiful and packed with good food. And you ate. You stuffed shamelessly in front of friends, blaming on it on the weed you'd just started smoked, filling out and out until the cute skinny girl you'd started out as was now chubby, outgrowing your new skirts, staining your pretty new tops with sauce and grease, desperate to be the fat girl you'd always dreamed of. 180 became 200 became 220, 230, and you were the fat girl now. The constant, nauseating assault of male attention weakened, and you thought, Okay, it's time to slow down.

Then you met your wife, beautiful and fiery and kind and hurt, a new kind of love that made ones past seem fake, like all along you'd been playing at love until you met her. And you met her on a porn site, on Reddit of all places, and you were drawn to each other. The casual relationships you'd both been in fell away, and across the country, you drew her to you, T4T, real love worth more than gold. Carefully, you patched each other up, and that first year together was one of the happiest times of your life, your little kitty at home with you all the time.

And with all her free time, she learned how to cook for you, and she was good at it. Picadillo, ropa vieja, palomilla steak, arroz con pollo, amazing dishes you'd never even heard of piled high in front of you day after day and piling onto your waist. Your new, perky tits rounded and dropped. Your ass stuck out more and more, folding over your thighs. Your belly grew and grew until it started to dominate your figure. And when she picked up more and more work, she turned that work right back into you, gorging you on the finest things while she pet your hair and told you how much she loved you, putting more and more fat on you so slowly you hardly noticed until you were pushing 300.

It's hard to believe sometimes how much has changed. How much you never even admitted you wanted to yourself and how much more life has dropped into your lap. When you look in the mirror, you see the fat girl of your dreams, and behind her, your wife, grabbing lovingly at the belly she grew on you, her own pressing into your back.

It was never easy, but it was always worth it. You're you.

[growingellex]

Sooo guess what.

FeedeeMedia is owned by a management company. Among other things I’m sure, they’re basically looking to automate model interactions, aka you’ll be talking to AI in DMs and not real people. They’ve paid to hide their owner name, they’ve built themselves an entire platform with AI slop, this is round 2 with the same exact design they’ve used before. They’re using models photos without permission to advertise. They don’t have age verification which means there are more than likely minors on both the website and the discord. Theyre offering paid promos to white models and begging for free promos from black models. They’ve only been online for a month. Mind you myself and a few others connected the dots a few days ago.

Starting up a website that’s kink forward without any of the safety guards in place is asinine. There’s no safety in a community that’s put together with slop.

[growingellex]

Since blank profiles need to be handheld into two seconds of googling.

[rosebelliedbunting]

hi can i blink stupidly up at you while you press treats to my lips? can i look at you with pure thoughtless adoration while you coax drinks down my throat? can i let my eyes shut and lean into your touch as you press your fingers into my fat, bloated belly? will you laugh if i try to say i love you but it just comes out as a pathetic little whimper?

[funnier-as-a-feedist]

[plushcow]

YES😛🤪

[darkandstormyranger]

finally some relatable content on ig

[sirpolygonus]

Can any gentlefolk here provide counsel on how to woo an older lady who is very mean and like a thousand times more powerful than you?

[behold-a-knave]

Have you considered slaying her most troublesome vassal in a duel

[growingellex]

Sooo guess what.

FeedeeMedia is owned by a management company. Among other things I’m sure, they’re basically looking to automate model interactions, aka you’ll be talking to AI in DMs and not real people. They’ve paid to hide their owner name, they’ve built themselves an entire platform with AI slop, this is round 2 with the same exact design they’ve used before. They’re using models photos without permission to advertise. They don’t have age verification which means there are more than likely minors on both the website and the discord. Theyre offering paid promos to white models and begging for free promos from black models. They’ve only been online for a month. Mind you myself and a few others connected the dots a few days ago.

Starting up a website that’s kink forward without any of the safety guards in place is asinine. There’s no safety in a community that’s put together with slop.

[peachy-ffa]

Fat simply feels right, not only is it beautiful how folds and rolls are created by it or how curves feel and look much better because they're plumper. But it's just more enjoyable for me to have someone with extra weight, something that gives in and it's pliable, not like a wall of muscle that even when relaxed you can feel the firmness of it.

And the best thing about all of this is that with some food and extra pampering, I can add more softness to someone, their belly can get bigger, their thighs meatier and their arms plumper. How beautiful being able to make someone more gorgeous through something as enjoyable and delightful as food, not many things in life are as gratifying as this, feeding someone with the purpose of pleasure, joy and some extra weight.

[devotiondyke]

her fat stomach pressing into the curve of your back while she fucks you from behind anyone?

[reactionimagesdaily]

[dialupmodern]

i NEED a sweet older woman to touch me INAPPROPRIATELY

[loverofallthingsround]

clenching my legs together thinking about a butch bullying me for how fat im getting and letting her be mean to me and make fun of me while she makes me submit and get fatter and eat as much as she wants, keeping me high and drunk, blitzed out of my mind, unable to resist

[thatfatgoth]

I don’t know a single decent person in this community that isn’t regularly discussing the abuse that occurs. Discussions on how to protect yourself, warnings about certain people, debates about how to make the community safer overall it’s always being discussed.

Every community has abusers hiding in it, and I think we would be naive to say that kink communities (not just feedism) make excellent hunting grounds because people are often already playing with power dynamics/imbalances, and it's easy to manipulate that into abuse. We also cannot ignore the fatphobia aspect, and you have abusers telling their victims, no one but me will love you cause you are fat and disgusting and then society is like, “lol true”.

People outside the community constantly accuse us of not addressing that, and it’s like, hey so we talk about that constantly actually and are also the ones most likely to be the victims of those abusers. So when you send death threats to a queer, fat, RACK compliant feedist over a jokey post you didn’t like, I’m not actually sure you are the good guy you think you are.

People just completely ignore anything that we have to say, ignore any fat lib/activism work we do, and make documentary after documentary being like: “Look how icky and gross this thing I don’t understand is!” Without ever addressing the actual issues they are supposedly so concerned about.

I’m fucking tired man like they wanna have their cake and eat it too and frankly that’s meant to be our thing.

[absorbyounext]

There needs to be more feeder humiliation. “I saw you looking at me you perv. I was only in the kitchen eating a snack and resting my belly on the counter. Doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” “Aw sweetie you can’t resist touching yourself while I’m licking my fingers can you?” “Heheh yeah you know you’re gonna give me your sandwich even though you’ll be hungry. You wanna see me get even fatter don’t you?” “Aw look at you all pathetic begging for me to sit on you <3”