#softeningchat

i hate diet culture so much. i hate how everyone steamrolls over my "i don't like talking about dieting." i hate seeing vibrant, beautiful personalities turn into someone who only talks about their weight loss. i hate when people brag abt how little they've eaten. i hate being expected to fawn over ppl for being on a crash diet. i hate when women go "hahah, i just don't really eat!" i hate when ppl use coffee or cigarettes to suppress their appetite and think that's healthy. i hate when i see the pain in my friend's eyes because someone around them lost weight and they feel Too Fat by comparison. i hate when people assume I'm unhealthy because im fat. i hate that this is something i've had to deal with since i was 7. i hate when fat people, stranded in a culture that villifies every aspect of their being, are asked to clap and cheer for thinness.

loooove girls who cum fast. like i can make you cum twice on my fifteen minute break and still have half of it left to get water and run my fingers over your still, sensitive, soft, trembling self? hello? cute??

y'know, sometimes i feel so smug being a feedist and having a healthy, relaxed relationship with food. like oh, you eat one meal a day? you feel a deep twinge of guilt when you eat sweets? you think about calories all day? you're always tired and stressed bc you're chronically undereating in the name of health? Well, I'm eating whatever I want when I want. I'm eating breakfast and zipping through work. I'm eating a big lunch and a big dinner and crushing my productivity goals. I'm eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I'm eating snacks, I'm loving myself, and I'm loving life

my wife has been keeping me so well-fed lately. . . i'm always waking up feeling heavy from binging at dinner the night before, and within an hour of me waking up she'll go out for "coffee" and bring back at least two breakfast sandwiches for me, and then my belly will be pressing into my desk the whole time while I'm working which makes me hungry 😵‍💫 but she keeps the fridge stocked so I can graze on fatty cheese and sandwiches and leftovers she saves for me, and when she gets home from work she usually makes drink a couple beers with dinner (which is always as much food as I can eat), and so I fall asleep completely stuffed in her lap with her hand on my belly. And the next day I wake up full and heavy and it all starts again. . .

what better feeling in the world is there then nervously/hornily confessing to your wife that you actually really ruly want to be her barely mobile housewife, and that after you settle into a home you love and get it the way you want it, you want to gain until you need her help for almost everything, you want to be so fat that it's instantly clear to everyone you're her overfed pet, you want to devote yourself to food and excess and purest hedonism and make wine and grow tomatoes and grow enormous. and then you open your eyes and she's rock hard?