secret gooning fuel

Mid 20s — F. Bisexual. Mostly an FFA. Hard boundary is that I am NOT a feedee, I am into contrast — disrespect that and you’re blocked. I am TAKEN and in a monogamous relationship. I ignore most dms.

[pigwatcher]

I need to be crystal fucking clear. Fuck fatphobia. Fuck anyone who engages in rhetoric that dehumanizes fat people. I am NOT a fat “fetishist.” Fuck anybody who is attracted to fat people but is too much of a pussy to properly love them and date them in public. Nobody deserves to be fetishized and I would never do that.

I have dated and been in relationships with LOTS of people — male and female — across the size spectrum. I’ve been with tiny skinny girls and male body builders with rock hard abs. And I’ve also dated some fat people. I am currently in a relationship with a fat person who I love dearly and who I take around in public, kiss, and cuddle with proudly because I wanna show him off!!! Because he’s hot. I think he’s a total catch. I am a fat admirer. I think fat people are hot. I think it’s hot and sexy to enjoy food and enjoy your life and live hedonistically outside of society’s standards. I find double chins and big soft tummies and rolls and curves and overall largeness to be very attractive and beautiful. I like how it feels in my hands and against my body and I like how it looks. I think it’s boring and LAME to have to date someone who won’t eat my cooking or ever share a desert or simply who can’t enjoy food — to enjoy food is to enjoy life! And I think it’s fun and transgressive and sexy for someone to simply permit their appetite to be large and indulgent beyond society’s standards. Not all fat people are fat because they overeat, let’s get that clear. But.. some of them do. And those fat people are still people. Still attractive. Still worthy of love.

I am not exclusively attracted to fatness, but my attraction to it is significant. I do NOT view my attraction to fatness as a kink and certainly not as a fetish. I do have feeder and feeder adjacent fantasies and that is a kink. I have never actually engaged in a feedist scenario with any of my fat partners — partially because they never initiated interest in such a thing, partially because I’m quite content for it to simply be a kinky fantasy in my own mind. My current partner is actually on a weight loss journey and taking a GLP-1 — this was his decision, motivated by the fact that he is unhappy with his lack of mobility, having to use a CPAP machine, and facing up to the fact that he has binge eating disorder fueled by childhood trauma. I love the way he looks now and if he wanted to give up and continue being just as fat or fatter, I’d respect his choice. But I also am respecting his choice to lose weight. If he wants to get down to something more manageable or even wants to get totally thin, I’m gonna respect it and love him for it. Because I see him as a human being and I love him for him not his body. I know some fat people and probably people I may follow have complex feelings about weight loss and GLP-1s. In terms of my partner, I feel as a thin person it’s not my place to tell him what to do. We’ve had discussions but ultimately it’s his choice. I’m bringing up this because I’m demonstrating that while I am attracted to fat people, I do not date the fat people that I date solely for their bodies. And I respect their choices.

My URL and things I reblog here play into some kinky fantasies regarding teasing people. But I do not condone fatphobia whatsoever in real life. Fuck anyone who does.

Anyways.

Here’s my kink jars.

[gain-stuff-eat]

You haven't noticed, have you?

Your meals keep getting bigger.

You keep getting bigger.

I know why. You've been too busy stuffing that face. Haven't paid attention to anything else in weeks - well, months now - and it's pretty obvious. So focused on satisfying those indulgent cravings and that constant, bottomless hunger, all you can think about is more. You eat to feel full and full for you means overstuffed. You can't even help it anymore.

I can't believe you haven't even noticed that double chin you've been growing, the way it pushes and spreads against your neck when you're bent over your meal and shoveling down all that food. How your belly jiggles with every step and spills into your lap a little more everyday. The way your arms don't quite touch your sides that well and your chest swells and your thighs rub. You're so fat now, you don't even realize, either sitting down too engrossed in gorging on flavors and textures, or too focused on making it to the door for delivery or into the kitchen because fuck, you need more, right?

Did you think that button flying off the other week was a fluke? Or needing to unzip your pants after every meal is a coincidence? The seams straining and groaning trying to contain your widening form. You must be completely unaware of the fact you're constantly tugging down your shirts and readjusting those clothes that used to fit you so well. They still do, actually. Maybe too well, from the glances and looks you get from friends and family and strangers after you surface from finishing your huge portions already asking for dessert.

But I get it.

That mindless haze that takes over when you eat makes it hard to notice how fast your body - and mind - is changing. You must keep forgetting those moments of surprise when you catch your reflection or see a recent photo. At how big and soft you look now. You obviously don't forget how it makes you feel. The throb that runs through you, the hunger it provokes, and the way you need to eat so much more later because of it. Before-you wouldn't recognize the behavior of current-you, not the way you've fully given yourself to the gluttony and hedonism.

Now, instead of worrying about how much you've eaten, you just sit back and pat your stuffed belly with a satisfied sigh. Rub the tender fullness in big slow circles. You don't even think twice, or at all, as your hand drifts lower and lower greedily seeking more pleasure until you're rutting and writhing as much as your beached body lets you, only realizing then how truly full you are - of how you only want more of it. Accepting with every bite and every orgasm that it's the only thing that gets you over the edge anymore. That it's the only thing you crave.

You're so heavy now. Sensitive. Insatiable.

You haven't noticed, not really. Because, well, that's how you are all the time. You're lost to the bliss of this. You want more. You need more. You get more.

You can't help it. You've conditioned yourself so well.

It's unlike anything else, isn't it? So easy, so simple, so rewarding to let go and give in to that growing pleasure.

Keep eating.

It all feels too good to stop.

[chubbology]

Looking at their backside in the mirror, B groans. Their ass has gotten even fatter - god, even fatter. Tears prick in their eyes as they reach back and feel the consequences of their continued weight gain. Bigger, softer, squishier. 

Of course, their whole body is big and soft and squishy now, but B’s ass still takes the cake. 

(It’s taken many, many cakes.)

[chubbology]

Everyone’s eyes are flicking over your body. You can tell they’re shocked at how fat you’ve gotten, with enormous thighs and a huge ass and a belly that jiggles all the time.

Everyone’s watching you gorge yourself at lunch. You eat like a glutton, stuffing yourself with fried foods and sweets and washing it all down with unhealthy sodas. You’re a little ashamed, but you’re too addicted to sugar and carbs to change your habits.

Everyone’s talking about you behind your back: About how your ass is too fat for your chair, how your belly is too fat for your shirts, and how you’re too weak for the stairs. You know everyone’s judging you, but you let yourself get even fatter anyway.

[chubbology]

Top 10 Fave WG Phrases - June

1. significantly chubbier

2. a plump double chin

3. really pudgy fingers

4. accidentally overweight

5. huge, dimpled thighs

6. soft, jiggling belly

7. starting to waddle

8. weaker and heavier

9. ass fattening severely

10. so hopelessly obese

[chubbology]

Top 10 WG Phrases - August

1. Waistline swelling an inch or two, or three or five

2. Measuring tape pressing into soft flesh, embarrassingly deep

3. The growing just won’t stop; the weight keeps piling on

4. Clothes straining around the gut and thighs

5. Overeating again anyway

6. Wincing at the faint sensation of your ass fattening in your pants

7. Your belly drooping a little lower

8. Jiggling more overtly as you walk downtown with thin, lithe friends

9. They’re relieved you’re getting fatter instead of them

10. And you like it when they tell you to no, go ahead, finish my plate too

[chubbology]

Top 10 Fave WG Phrases - July

1. swollen belly

2. ate way too much

3. can’t fit anymore

4. too big all over

5. overdoing every meal

6. starting to make the scale creak

7. can’t stop eating 

8. endless fattening foods

9. fattest in the room

10. eating, and eating, and eating

[chubbology]

She knew all her friends were being ridiculous about her gaining weight. She was sure it was just the heat of the summer making her sweat. And she hadn't been running in a while, that's what made her pant when she took the stairs. But when the bottom finally went flying on her 'fat' jeans, she had to accept the truth..

She rushed into the bathroom of the café, hoping against hope that her friends hadn’t noticed why. With the door safely locked, she looked down at the open flaps of her comfy jeans. The button was gone. 

She remembered it coming off under the table with acute vividness. She’d just eaten the untouched half of her friend’s massive blueberry muffin when it happened. She’d leaned back in her chair, feeling bloated from a few too many café snacks, then leaned forward to laugh when her friend made a joke - and the button popped right off. Luckily, her friends were none the wiser, but she had felt exposed. Uncontained somehow. So she’d tugged down her shirt and escaped.

Her belly hung between the flaps, pushing them open wider. They’re right, she thought. I have gained weight. 

She’d popped her button, for god’s sake. 

All at once, she became aware of how her body felt heavier. How it took up more space. How it pressed against her clothes. She cupped her hips and…and they were big. They’d gotten big. Like her belly sagging over her jeans and her arms puffing out of her sleeves.

She stepped forward towards the bathroom mirror. No no no, she wanted to whine. But she wasn’t just a little bit out of shape like she thought. Her thighs were jam-packed with fat, her face looked swollen, and belly was starting to dwarf her boobs. She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back her emotions as she used her other hand to pull up on her shirt. She poked her gut, and her finger sunk in deep. 

She sighed and hiked up her fat jeans. Maybe if she finally admitted to her friends that they had been right, they would buy her another muffin.

[chubbology]

How are you going to stop gaining weight when you constantly crave the taste of sugar on your tongue? The bulkiness of food filling up your mouth? The satisfying slide of it down your throat? Every time you run out of things to eat, you feel bereft. Your empty, chubby hands want something to hold onto. You aren’t full yet, and you pout your way around your kitchen, looking for things that aren’t there. 

(Maybe you stamp your foot in frustration, and your belly and thighs wobble heavily in your sweats.)

You want to be fit, sure, but you haven’t denied yourself a single indulgence in months. You don’t so much as contemplate exercise anymore. You see delicious things in the dessert shop window, bite your lip, tell yourself don’t - and go inside anyway, fatter than the last time you came. Not as fat as you’ll be the next visit. 

You just can’t give up your binges. Not when you can’t stop thinking about them, and not while your hands still itch to open the fridge. Your lips long to close around sweet, soft, unhealthy things, and you let them have their way. For hours, sometimes. Leaving you clinging to the pantry shelf, panting a little as you stuff your mouth with whatever’s left. 

(Maybe your hand roams out over the curve of your thick hip. Your protruding lower belly. Your fat ass, both cheeks obese as can be.)

You still aren’t full yet.

[chubbology]

Three Types of People Gaining Weight

The Pouter

The Pouter resents the effect food has on them. How just one little bite of something can lead to a full blown stuffing, making them feel helpless to the weight they’re putting on in droves. They’re the type who displaces blame. It’s the brain’s fault. It’s genetics. It’s the genetically modified food that is making them too fat to walk without waddling a little. Healthy food is too expensive; junk food is too divine. Exercise is too time-consuming; sitting all day is a required part of their 9 to 5. They pout their way through the day at their desk, sucking on their daily venti frappe, which they carefully don’t realize has been fattening up their ass so badly that it doesn’t really fit in their chair anymore. They pout when their clothes don’t look quite right and blame the dryer for shrinking them. They get angry when the elevator goes out of order, forcing them to pant and heave their way up the stairwell. Then they get irate when there’s nothing good left in the pantry to fill them up once they finally get to their apartment in the evening. The only thing that soothes their nerves is take out, and so they eat a lot of take out. The trash bin is full of take out containers, along the coffee table, and the countertop. Sometimes they reach the bottom of a container, so full but still needing to consume more, so they get take out from somewhere else. They wake up heavier every morning, but they don’t know that. All they know is that (because their arms and chest have blown up so big with flab) it’s getting hard to cross their arms when they’re annoyed.

The Blusher

The Blusher is the type who effortlessly gains a few dozen pounds in winter weight and doesn’t even notice until the weather warms. They happily pack away their winter clothes, pull on a well-worn pair of shorts, and…with a sharp pang of dread, find they can’t even tug the denim all the way up their bulkier thighs. Even without anyone around to ogle their thighs, or their chubbier face, or their larger love handles—which their shirt can’t quite seem to cover—they flush pink. A little ashamed and a lot embarrassed. Because how did they not realize? They gently touch their belly, thicker and curvier than it should be. They look in the mirror. And…whoa. They’re girthy all over. Their limbs are large and heavy-looking and they just look so big. They gained weight and were totally oblivious. Oblivious to how all those special-occasion splurges and one-off binges added up. With whispered curses and last-ditch tugging attempts, the Blusher tries on more clothes and outfits, hoping against hope that they’re not as big as they look and feel. Except almost nothing fits. And their belly keeps jiggling when they turn and bend and stand. And the dusted-off scale is showing them a number they can’t possibly believe. No, no, no. They can’t be that fat. With tubby fingers, they search and calculate on their phone to see…to see that they are teetering on the far end of the Overweight box in the spectrum. Just to the right, the more ominous Obese box lies in wait, colored a deep red. They blush that very same color, down to their second chin.

The Lip-Biter

The Lip-Biter is the type who stands in the kitchen, stuffing their mouth with a fifth donut as they press their heavy belly a little firmer against the counter. They’ve gotten fat, really fat, and they know it, but they nevertheless put off getting new clothes using money excuses, telling themselves that it’s not a big deal if they stretch the seams a little. Except eventually it’s not just a little, and the Lip-Biter, swallowing hard every time they get dressed, knows that. The truth is, they feel a rush when they notice their buttons strain over their breasts and torso. They hold their breath when they sit down slowly and aren’t sure if something’s going to rip. They sneak candies and chocolates at every opportunity, wondering idly how fat they’re going to get if they keep their bad habits up. They bite their lip at the thought of getting so obese that normal daily routines become difficult. They’re already not as fast as they used to be; they already sweat easier. After work some days, they buy a cake of some kind for a fake occasion and eat the whole thing at home, forkful after forkful, lacking any will not to gorge themselves. They spread their thighs apart a little more and let their clothes slowly stretch and snap as they eat. Lick their lips and squirm in pleasure.

[chubbology]

Getting Big

prompt: someone discovering they’re a feeder as their feedee partner gets bigger

Sometimes you’re both in bed, distracted and ignoring each other on your phones or laptops, when you notice. Your eyes lift from your phone and notice your partner’s relaxed belly, rising and lowering with calm breath, stretching the fabric of their shirt. Really stretching it now, not just with every inhale, but by default. Not just pushing the seams a little with chubbier hips, but forcing the cotton to bow out close to its limit, forcing the stitching to cave into a belly button deeper and softer-looking than you remember. And your eyes inevitably take in the rest: thicker thighs, more shapely chest, less defined arms, softer jawline.  

You’re aware that your partner’s gained a little weight. More than a little, but it’s fine. Probably thirty or so pounds, not a big deal, and you absolutely don’t judge them for it. Have they mentioned it at all? No, they just keep tugging at their shirts and pants. And underwear. Their underwear is getting too small for them, with weight gain making them a bit of a pear and all, but you don’t say anything. You don’t say they need bigger underwear. You don’t tell them how much you appreciate the fact that they need it. As long as they stay mum on the subject of their weight and the fit of their clothes, so will you; that’s your rule.

Sometimes you’re both in bed, watching TV, and they’re eating their way to the bottom of a quart of appallingly flavored ice cream (super-caramel-quadruple chocolate-chunk type stuff), and you keep sneaking glances. Because you’re amazed they’re comfortable enough around you to eat freely like this—or so you tell yourself. Their eyes are so glazed with distracted pleasure that maybe it didn’t even occur to them not to gorge themselves tonight, right in front of you.

Not gorging themselves like some kind of pig—no, it’s just, you both ordered a lot of takeout just a couple hours ago, and then they snacked on chips for a while, and then there was that candy bar they ate on a whim while you took out the trash, and now it’s a whole quart of ice cream. A whole quart. The more glances you sneak at them, the more you notice how their budding second chin peeks out when they chew. The more you notice that their bites seem hasty, as if tinged by some kind of distant, unconscious desperation.

You lean against them as if too tired to stay upright, reaching over them casually, letting one arm rest against their belly. It’s soft. It’s bigger. Not a big deal at all, you tell yourself for the millionth time.

And yet, you ponder their weight more. You’ve been pondering it incessantly. You can’t stop thinking about how they went to the mall two weeks ago without telling you, bought clothes a size up, and already were uncomfortably tugging and pulling on on every tight band and seam again. You can’t stop your thoughts from wandering to the idea of them sizing up again any more than your partner can stop their hands from opening another package of cookies.

“Ugh, this stuff is so good,” they mutter, swallowing the last bite, then closing the lid on the carton and setting it aside.

“Mm. I’ll buy more then,” you say without thinking. It’s fine if they size up again, after all. You’ll love them no matter their body type. Their happiness comes first. “I’m going to the grocery store anyway.”

Keep reading

[reedrfeedr]

paying attention

(You feel like you need more encouragement, but what about your own senses? CW: Weight gain, encouragement, fitness issues.)

Next time you need that little push to eat a bit more, just listen to your body. It’s already reminded you how much progress you’ve made.

You can start right when you first wake up. Sitting up in bed, take note of how you have to do it. do you have to use both arms to heft yourself up? Does your belly have to compress and fight with itself, squishing and rolling to make room for you to pull forward? Do you need a couple attempts to rock yourself forward? Be sure to reward yourself with a snack for noticing any milestones you’ve made so far, and to encourage that next one.

What about sitting down? Do you find yourself assessing chair strength before you plant your fat ass down? Do you subconsciously hold some of your weight on your legs as to not test its integrity too much? Do the seat edges dig into the parts of your wide ass cheeks that hang over the side? Be sure to order extra tonight if any of these sound familiar to you to celebrate.

And what about getting back up? Have you realized you have to put your hands on your knees to brace yourself, and haven’t really tried without it? Do you have to really flex and engage your ab muscles to sit forward to stand? Have you started widening your stance to get in a better position to heft your bulk? Can you get up at all without assistance? Does new weight make you feel uncoordinated when you stand, like you’ve forgotten your center of gravity? If any of these don’t feel like you yet, it’s just more of that push to earn the rest of them.

Even walking is an opportunity to assess your progress. The speed of your gait, has it slowed down over time? Did you realize that you’ve been trying to obscure your heavier breathing lately? How much have you had to widen your stance to walk, do you think a stranger would call it a waddle watching you shuffle around just yet? Do you find that noticeable loss of energy coming a little sooner than before, the subtle feet soreness from walking a long time coming around before too long? I bet you can’t wait to feel yourself get even worse, to be hit with even more obvious evidence that you’re getting fatter.

How many X’s are on your clothes? You should be able to manage one meal for each of those today, shouldn’t you? You know what they say, eat for the clothing size you want to grow out of.

I bet you haven’t even noticed all the ways you’ve picked your own gluttony and lethargy over anything else. Maybe it would help to remind yourself of them.

For example, I’d ask you how winded you get climbing a set of stairs, but let’s be honest: when’s the last time you even did that? Or does it come more naturally for you to avoid them? It might sound strange to be encouraged to climb a flight of stairs, but that subtle wheeze you’ll have by the top will push you to eat a hundred times the calories you burned with each cumbersome step anyway, won’t it? Eat yourself out of ever being able to remind yourself of how out of shape you are.

Think about the last time you even ate a salad, wasted a meal with that paltry amount of calories. Get a cookie for every day it’s been. If you can’t remember, that’s an entire package just for you, congrats fatass.

Ever turned down a hangout with some friends or family because you ‘don’t like hiking’, figured it might be too much walking for you, or doesn’t sound like fun having to move around more than the necessary amount? Good thing, that’s another excuse to hit up a buffet or an extra drive-through on the way home, make sure those decisions get piled up onto you.

Heck, next time you’re missing that drive, just look in the mirror. Does that face staring back have a double-chin? Are those cheeks fuller and rosier than you remember? Do your love handles stretch out past your waist? Does your belly? Does it fold over yet? That body would look much better gorging on something indulgent, wouldn’t it?

Turn around and look back. Do you see a roll forming where your body is folding in to turn? Does your ass look plush and comfy, is it pocked with cellulite, does it press against your underwear? Is there a shelf where your thighs rise up to meet it? How much give does your thighs have? Imagine how much comfier you’ll be taking up even more of a couch with your sedentary, gluttonous self with some more padding to squish into.

Look at the details. Are those faded stretch marks still visible, traceable from under your finger from the last plateau you pushed past? Have they been making fresh, red friends lately? Does your chest cast a shadow onto your belly? How do those hands look - a little fatter, pudgier, clumsier than they used to be? What about your feet? Don’t be afraid to catch yourself noticing the way your fingers look a little unfamiliar, the way your double chin digs into your chest a little earlier than you remember, or the way your arms hang at a bit more of an angle because of the curve of your sides.

Each detail you take in is more evidence of indulgence having an effect. Each detail should make you hungrier to leave more of a mark on your body.

Next time your body tells you about what it wants, how far it’s come and what’s next, just listen.

[widenode]

You are already so very fat. Every time you catch your reflection, notice the fat man looking back at you. Every time you move, notice how your body jiggles, how your rolls of fat slide over each other and spread out. There is no going back when you are already this fat. It is inevitable that you will just keep getting fatter now. Every moment is a reminder of how fat you have made yourself, and every time you think about how fat you are, you give in more to being a fatty.

You are addicted to food. Your favorite foods are calorie dense junk food, and eating your favorite fattening foods is your answer for everything. When you are sad, go stuff your fat face to feel better. When you are happy celebrate by pigging out. When you are bored, fill the time by getting high and seeing how many empty calories you can fit in that big fat belly of yours. You have a hole inside you that needs to be constantly filled with food. When you are not completely stuffed with fattening junk, the hunger is overwhelming, and all you can think about is getting your fix. The only way to keep the hunger at bay is to be a good fatty and keep shoveling in those calories. When you do eat your fill, it is the best feeling in the world. The dull ache of your stomach being stretched out with junk food gives you more happiness than anything else in your life. You feel true contentment when you are full of food that will turn into more and more fat.

Every ounce of fat on your body seals your fate as a fatty. You already have hundreds of pounds of blubber on you now fatty, so there's no point in fighting it. It feels good to give in and accept that you will always be fat. People will always see you as the fat guy, and the way they treat you confirms that a fatty is just who you are. It's okay that you're addicted to food, you're supposed to be. You're a fatty carrying hundreds of pounds of useless lard, so it's okay that you can't waddle very far without getting tired. It's okay to ask for special accommodations for your fatness, after all you're a big fat fatty who needs them. Accept the limitations of being a fatty, because there's nothing you can do about them. You will always be a fatty, so there's no use holding back or hiding what you are. You will be the fatty you are meant to be, and you will feel good about it. It feels good to be who you are. It feels good to let go and just be a fatty getting fatter. The fatter you get, the more you can relax and accept yourself as a fatty.

You notice how fat you are constantly throughout the day. Every time you move you notice how you jiggle, and how your fat spreads out and forms rolls. You can always feel how your dick is buried in a soft roll of lard. When you stand, you can feel your heavy belly hanging off of you. When you waddle, you can feel your blubber bouncing and swaying back and forth. When you sit down, you can feel how your whole body spreads out and your fat belly sits on your lap like a big sack of jello. You can feel your fat double chin every time you move your head. You can feel how your arms rest at an angle because your big fat love handles are in the way. From your head to your toes you are covered in jiggly blubber. You can feel how every inch of you is soft, weak, and yielding. You feel good when you notice how fat you are, and you want to make yourself even fatter. These sensations are your reward for being a good fatty, and a reminder of who you are. You feel fat because you are fat, and you're going to get even fatter. You enjoy everything about being fat. You are fulfilled when you can feel how fat you have become.

You identify as a fatty. It is just a fact of who you are like your height or eye color. You are a fatty in everything you do. Fatties eat too much fast food. You are a fatty, so you eat too much fast food. Fatties are slow and lazy. You are a fatty, so you are slow and lazy. Fatties can't stop eating too much and getting fatter. You are a fatty, so you can't stop eating too much and getting fatter. You are a fatty, and you always will be. You look like a fatty, and you act like a fatty, so you are a fatty. You are a fatty, so you look like a fatty and you act like a fatty. It is inescapable, even if you want to escape, but you don't. You are proud to be a fatty. Fulfilling your role as a fatty makes you feel content and whole. Being fat is just who you are, and you are proud of who you are. You have always wanted to be a fatty, and now you always will be a fatty. Getting even fatter just makes you more of who you are meant to be. You will be the best fatty you can be by getting even fatter.

You can't hide how fat you are, so don't even try. No clothes can hide that enormous belly of yours, so don't bother wearing baggy clothes. No beard could hide that fat double chin, so you might as well shave and show it off. Everybody knows you eat like a pig because you're as fat as a pig, so don't hold back when people watch you eat. Give them a show and let them see how much of a pig you really are. People can already see how fat you are so you might as well just enjoy being your fat self. It's okay to eat more than everybody else, people expect you to. It's okay that you don't fit sometimes, people can see how big your fat body is, so they didn't expect you to fit. It's okay if you don't go with the group on a walk, they know you're so fat that you would only slow them down. Enjoy the food, enjoy the rest, enjoy being seen and acknowledged as the fatty you are.

You know with absolute certainty that there's no going back for a fatty like you. You are a food addict now. It is very hard for food addicts to escape their addiction, but for you it is impossible. A regular food addict actually wants to lose weight, but not you. You like being fat, and you always will. You know your resolve could never hold up because you would be trying to fight what you really want. So don't try. You're going to stay fat, and you're going to get even fatter. Fighting it just makes you unhappy, so don't.

You are a fatty, so you have the mentality and habits of a fatty. You keep food around you at all times. You always choose junk food that will make you fatter over healthy food. You are always snacking on something. When people are deciding what to eat, you're always the one who suggests the fattening fast food place, and you order enough to feed at least three people. You avoid any kind of physical exercise. You spend most of your time sitting on your big fat ass in a chair. You let other people do things for you because it's too much hassle to do it yourself when you're this fat. You never walk when you could drive or do it remotely.

Being fat and getting fatter is central to your life, and you organize your life around it. You work a job that requires zero physical labor. All your hobbies are things you can do while sitting on your fat ass. All your friends are fat, or accept you as a fatty. You don't take on responsibilities that would interfere with you getting fatter. You fill your home and life with things designed for fat people. You wear clothes in sizes not available in stores, because that's all that fits. You get tools to help you be a fatty, like grabbing sticks and a special tool to wipe your ass because you're too fat to reach. You use vibrators to masturbate because your dick is buried in blubber and you're too lazy to try to reach it. You do all these things because you're a fatty, and every time you do them, it reinforces in your mind that you're a fatty and always will be. Living your fat life is self reinforcing and you cannot escape it.

[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.

[fullcravings]

No-Bake Chocolate Cream Pie

[foodffs]

Fried Ice Cream Recipe

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Is this how you roll?

[fullcravings]

Chocolate Peanut Butter Pie Bars