#Exercise for Weight Gain

[thepanvelite]

How to Gain Weight: A Comprehensive Guide

Gain weight healthily through balanced diet and regular exercise.

Are you confused about the correct ways of gaining weight? What is the right method to increase your muscle and ensure fat is not increasing? Is exercise non-negotiable when you want to put on a healthy weight? How much food should one consume to gain weight? Are tonics beneficial? Find out the truth about mass gainers and whether to consume them or not. Gaining weight can be as challenging as…

[beaverpooeatstrash-blog]

I look so silly exercising. Wish I could just never move again~ grow and grow, fatter and fatter~ but for now, here I am. Jumping jacks.

[rainy-matcha]

Headcanon that Ford gains some weight post canon/on the Stan of War 2; he was probably unhealthily underweight/malnourished from his 30 years in dimension hopping/survival mode. (He says he 'maintained diet and exercise' during that time but. C'mon. He's clearly coping there's no shot he could've had time for that while just trying to survive). And I think Stan loses some weight that he gained from 30 years of drinking/depression now that he's a lot happier and probably quit drinking for good (quit it for the twins visit, but didn't go back to it once he was on the Stan of War).

[athenadeltoro]

ever wonder why boys are not interested? maybe because you're fat and ugly

[witchstone]

you really will be struggling with an unknown problem and get cheerfully told that your blood tests are perfect and "you don't have to worry!" well no. not really. it just means we still don't know what it is

[dolcinos]

new ukus/usuk! alfred is too fat for most sexual activities, good thing arthur can still manage to rub his dick (and fatpad) off just enough :)

[vegan-nom-noms]

Lunch Box Ideas:

Soy Curl Jerky

Chickpea Avocado Quinoa Salad Jars With Tahini

No Bake Chocolate Protein Bars

Alongside fresh fruit!

[miiilowo]

I've been successful in losing weight so far btw :-) been eating the same amount I always do (if not More) just healthier and I feel a lot better and more energetic. having a lovely time

[rohirric-hunter]

I am starting to have the same body shape that my bio mom had when I was a kid. The one she called "ugly" and "morbidly obese."

I think it's kinda cute TBH. IDK if I'm technically the correct weight but I can bike 8 miles no problem, so that's got to count for something.

[dramatic-dolphin]

why do people act like you're either fat or "healthy" like bro i am not healthy i literally give zero shits about eating healthy. my fat relatives care more about healthy eating than i do, i think you're just fatphobic and disconnected from reality 👍

[queerstudiesnatural]

one thing that i don't think we talk about enough is the connection between fatphobia/skinnyphobia and ableism. like how many times have you heard someone say "i'm just concerned about their health", "they're so skinny they look sickly", "their weight will cause health problems" etc, said in a derogatory tone. and yeah sometimes weight is linked to health problems. that is true. but how is that a bad thing? when people scoff at overweight or underweight people and justify it with "they must be so unhealthy", it not only reinforces beauty standards as they pertain to size, but it also implies that health is morally good, and anyone who "looks unhealthy" (and of course not everyone who is overweight or underweight is unhealthy, that's just a connection people make because beauty standards are so fucked up) is morally reprehensible. i know i'm not the first person to say it, far from it, but i do think health should be discussed more when we're talking about body image and the pressure put on people, and especially women, to look a certain way. it's not just about size, it's about not showing any signs that you may struggle with your health in any way. whether it's hormonal imbalances, mental health, or anything else. the pressure put on people, and again, women especially, to look a certain way, is (and this just an example) one of the reasons why it still takes some people years to get diagnosed with pcos. you get told that if you're gaining weight, then you should go to the gym and diet to lose it. you get asked how many burgers you've had in the past month. because if your weight is "abnormal" then it must be because of something bad you did. if you're unhealthy it must be your fault. god forbid every body be naturally different and react to things differently. so anyway idk how to end this but like, body shaming and health shaming often go hand in hand and, i think, should be treated as a joint issue.

[angesaurus]

I don’t understand how I can do everything right yet still feel like I’m pouring from an empty cup.

[dolcinos]

beachy alfred since summer is slowly coming up…

first of all, his trunks from last year have already grown small and straining. he can barely squeeze them up to his thighs. so, new ones…alfred would honestly wear his regular clothes to the beach if he could, would put on a baggy shirt and stretchy sweatpants. but he wants to swim! and he’s like, 500 pounds, he would overheat like hell. so he gets a new pair of very modest and knee length swim trunks, plus a swim shirt. never mind the fact that the shirt outlines every bit of pudge… he feels better not leaving his belly bare.

but just the trek up the dunes is a little too much exercise. a battle of its own to get from the sizzling pavement of the parking lot to the sand, as close to the sea as he can manage before he’s huffing too much. his flat sandals certainly don’t help the matter, his knees and ankles sore from climbing all the inclined sand hills.

then he’s rubbing sunscreen all over his sensitive skin. the pale rolls of his back and chest and belly and sides. smooth belly, stretchmarked lovehandles, his thick back folds, gotta get all of it! can’t have that soft skin burning!

which is when he decides to ditch the shirt to swim, because he realizes his overhang is peaking out from the bottom and can’t stay contained. it’s more embarrassing to have something this ill-fitting on than to let his gut and saggy moobs hang free.

several other beachgoers think he’s nude from the front, until they see his swimtrunks in the back…his belly just eclipses all the fabric of them in the front. many blushes ensue as he waddles his way to the water, wheezing a bit. he just hopes some kids won’t start jeering about his tits or something…

finally, though, the relief of the cool sea is worth it… he’s floating on his back and his belly is sticking up above the waterline so high. and…he’s definitely getting mistaken for a beached whale like this.

[toptierteaser]

The Fitness App

Chapter One: Coach Hermes

“Dude, I swear by it! Six months! That’s all it took to whip me into shape! Two years of Pandemic fat gone like that! Trust me, you won’t regret it!”

                Diego’s words rang in Dylan’s memory as he stared down at the little earpiece in his hand. It looked like a little white snake, curled up in his softened palm. This was his last opportunity to back out, to put the thing back in the box and return it to the software store. He could get back in shape on his own, couldn’t he? if he just committed to going to the gym four times a week, documenting his workouts, journaling his food habits…

                He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. A husk of the former man he used to be. Or rather, it looked more like the hottie-with-a-body from the past had been stuffed into a suit made of dough, which had only expanded over the course of the last three years. His face still retained his former “adorableness,” as the ladies and gays at the office put it. He still had the good looks as the fat had hardly affected his face.

                But the rest of his body…it was an entirely different story. Just the sight of himself, standing alone in his room, was enough to make him blush. Everything had filled out. Exposed in his underwear, he looked first at the thighs which pressed up against each other like rising bread. His love handles that now jutted up over his waistband. The tight briefs he had not bothered to replace were covered in the front by the gut that had just begun to descend—a major factor in his deciding to try out this new technology—covering the front of his crotch and the fabric was beginning to rip on the sides because of the size of his ass. His butt had always been big for a guy’s, but now it was absolutely ‘ridiculous,’ as his friend, Cody, had teased, grabbing one of his juicy cheeks and giving it a jiggle. And of course, his tits had grown ripe, bouncy, his arms thickened not by muscle, but by fat, and his neck was slowly starting to plump up as well, teasing just the hint of a double chin.

He knew no amount of working out, writing down his exercises, keeping track of his calories would get him any closer to the fit jock he was over three years ago. It was a tried and failed recipe for disaster that had only resulted in him ballooning even fatter every time. Of course, during the pandemic, he had simply sat on his ass like everyone else and stuffed his face until he couldn’t fit another bite…but what was his excuse for the last two years?

At the beginning of the pandemic, there was no risk of being asked to go back into the office. Who knew how long that would last? And so, Dylan had kept on growing, kept on eating. But after a few years of remote work, the company had finally started to crack down on working-from-home, requiring a slightly-to-surprisingly chubbier office to return.

On the dreaded day, Dylan, after a morning of wrestling himself into the loosest chino’s he could find and wriggling into the only button-down that would button over his tubby gut, had waddled himself back into the building. He was shocked, stunned, and dismayed to find that out of all the dozens of employees, he had put on the most weight in his time larding out at home. And his coworkers were equally-stunned to see his new status. No one, upon smiling at him and greeting his return, could seem to keep their eyes from falling to size up his sized-up belly. And a few even made comments; his rival, Luke, who only looked fitter, more muscular, going so far as to poke his tummy.

It was already a miserable day. One which resulted in Dylan trying his best to drown out the associated feelings by glutting out on the snacks he had brought back to stock his desk. But to make matters worse, as he stood there, a granola bar dangling out of his mouth, restacking the papers on his desk, he watched as Diego, suited with brand new pants, a shirt, and shiny new shoes, came strutting into the office, looking at least fifty pounds thinner than the last time Dylan had seen him.

Diego had already been a thick-bodied man. Chubby, even. He had been so even a year before the pandemic, when both he and Dylan had started. The desk job had caused him to fill out quite quickly and by the time everyone was sent home to work, his obtuse ass cheeks could barely even fit into his pants. It was, perhaps, a lucky break for Diego that he could now work from home, as Dylan could see the seams on his buttocks starting to become unraveled as his doughy coworker waddled out the door.

But the pandemic went on, and so Diego’s weight went up. Dylan could see the changes during the zoom meetings, as his flawless brown skin was stretched tighter over the young man’s plumping face. Once, even, Diego had to stand to plug his computer back in and Dylan could see his lower half, clad only in a t-shirt and the tightest sweats Dylan could imagine his office friend wearing, his gut jiggling as it ���bwomped” out from beneath his shirt, smacking against the keyboard on the desk.

That’s why it was a surprise when, two years later, Diego came strutting into the office, looking thinner than when he had started. Luke had elbowed his way to the front of the cluster who had walked up to congratulate him, feeling Diego’s muscles, running a hand over his stomach to check for abs through the fabric. The whole sight made Dylan want to puke. Instead, he stuffed a muffin into his face and glowered until they were called into the conference room.

It was a tighter fit than Dylan could remember, as he wedged his widened ass between the armrests of the chair. By accident, he was right beside his friend, Cora, and Diego. They had always been on good terms, but Dylan could hardly stand to look at him.

“What’s wrong, man?” Diego had asked.

Dylan didn’t hesitate. “How the fuck did you lose all that?” he spat. It came out far more volatile than he intended.

Diego looked slightly dejected, throwing up his hands. “Just wanted to take care of myself, man.”

Dylan softened his tone. “Sorry…it’s just. You, of all people…”

Diego laughed. “Would it make you feel better if I said that you were part of the inspiration? That I wanted to look like you did…you know…before.” He laughed, elbowing Dylan in the chubby side. Dylan couldn’t help but smile.

Diego glanced around. Everyone was busy chatting and celebrating each others’ return. He lowered his voice. “There’s an app…and a device. It’s called the ‘Encour Rager!’” Dylan gave him a look. “Cheesy, I know. But hey!” He looked down at his own body.

“What does it do?” asked Dylan.

                “It’s an A.I. trainer. It encourages you to work on your goals.” Diego chuckled. “And man is it brutal! But it’s effective. Which, clearly you might want to consider,” he glanced at Dylan’s stomach. Dylan squirmed.

                “I might give it a try,” he said absently. Of course, he didn’t know how he felt about A.I., but like everyone, he used it almost daily in some way or another. But he had already tried so many apps; calorie trackers, workout calculators. None of it had helped.

                Diego leaned in closer. “Listen, dude. It’s not like anything else you’ve tried. It’s a commitment. I don’t recommend it lightly. But once you buy it and put it in, it stays in there. You don’t take it out again for a year! I mean, it’s as close to permanent as you can get!”

All that flashed through Dylan’s mind now as he looked at himself. A tubby version of the hottie he so badly wanted to be again.

A small chirping sound went off from the device in his hand. He looked down to see it glowing blue. It was fully-charged. Now was the moment of truth. He could back out now, if he wanted to. He gave his thickened body one last glance in the mirror, catching a glimpse of the pile of clothes he had set aside because he no longer fit into them.

He clicked the button on the side of the earpiece, raised it, and inserted it into his ear.

A pleasant tune filled his brain. And then, a voice. “Hello, Dylan.” It was deeper than he had imagined. Masculine. He envisioned an attractive, muscular jock. “I’m your Coach. You can call me Coach if you like, or by my name, Coach Hermes.” ‘Hermes,’ the god of games and sports.

“Hello,’’ said Dylan awkwardly.

“Hello, Coach,” corrected the device.

“Hello, Coach,” said Dylan, smiling.

“Much better!” said the device. “Now, you are aware of my function, are you not?”

“I am,” said Dylan. “Coach Hermes,” he added, grinning.

“Very good. Just to recap, I will act as your personal fitness trainer for the next twelve months, during which time, we are going to whip your body into the shape you most desire! My function is to optimize your fitness level to suit your needs and to best-satiate your personal self-image. During our first week together, we’ll be getting to know one another quite well, and I will be observing and commenting on your lifestyle; your eating habits, your exercise routine, things like sleep schedule, how much television you consume. Does that all make sense to you, Dylan?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan. He was growing placid, as if the voice was lulling him into a trance.

“Excellent, Dylan. Now, as I will be observing, I will also be curating a program which I believe will best-benefit your body…money-back guaranteed, of course. The watch that accompanies my earpiece will allow me to monitor your heart rate, your breathing, and your responses to my words. The contact lens will allow me to see the world through your eyes and will give me a customized projection which is designed to motivate you towards your fitness goals. Please go ahead and place the watch on your wrist at this time.”

Dylan did as he was told, strapping the watch onto his chubby wrist. “My, that’s a tight squeeze, isn’t it?” said Coach Hermes.

“Uh, a bit…” mumbled Dylan.

“I am reading that your pulse has been elevated. Might I suggest you do some deep breathing to calm your nerves. There is no need to be anxious. None of this is permanent until you give me the final say-so.” Dylan took some deep breaths.

“Now,” said Hermes. “Please place the contact in your eye…so I can get a good look at you.”

Again, Dylan obeyed, dropping the contact in front of the mirror, and blinking as he adjusted it into place. It was the smoothest contact he had ever worn. He could barely tell it was there!

“Very good!” said the Coach. “Oh…what a handsome dude.” Dylan was looking at his own face.

“Thanks, Coach!” said Dylan, half-forgetting he was talking to a robot.

“You’re welcome, Dylan,” said the robot. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind standing back a bit, so I can see you. You did remember to wear the minimum amount of clothing so I can see your full person, did you not?”

“Yes, Coach,” said Dylan to both question and request.

“VERY good! I can tell we’re going to whip you into shape faster than you could ever have thought imaginable! Now, please step back.”

Dylan stepped back, still put off by the quivering of his stomach as he did so. Still disturbed by the increased rubbing of his thighs.

“Oh!” said Hermes in a shocked voice. “Oh, my! You have lost control, haven’t you…big boy?”

Dylan blushed. Why he would do so in front of a robot was beyond him. But it was embarrassing nonetheless.

“No matter,” said Coach Hermes. “We can work with this. Can’t we, thiccums?”

“Uh…yes…?” stammered Dylan, questioningly. ‘thiccums?’

“Yes…?” said Hermes.

“Yes, Coach.”

“That’s better, fatty.”

Dylan nearly fell over. Diego had warned him the words of the A.I. could be harsh. But it would all worth it, when he came strutting into the office in a new suit…right?

“Well, now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, chubbs, there’s only one thing left to do. Your wristwatch will take your thumbprint as your signature.” As the app said this, Dylan felt the watch buzz, illuminating on the screen. “If you are prepared to commit for the next year, please go ahead and place your thumbprint on the screen at this time.”

Dylan hesitated. Could he really handle being called things like ‘chubbs’ and ‘fatty until this time next year?

“Or, you may decline the offer and return the app. Your one-day trial is cost-free so long as the device is returned to the nearest software provider without damage.” The voice dropped to a whisper in Dylan’s ear. “But, do you really want to look like this for the rest of your life, porker? You know that you won’t be able to do this without me, right, fatboy? You know you need my guidance. That’s what I’m here for. To help you. I’m nothing like those other apps, where you can lie to them about eating a salad before you go binge on a carton of ice cream. I’m the real deal. I see everything. I feel everything. Like how out of breath you are, just standing there. Like how I can tell by your pulse that you’re embarrassed. But you don’t want to be embarrassed for the rest of your chubby life, do you? Go on, biggums…sign the contract.”

Dylan looked down at his watch again. He raised his thumb over the screen, letting it hover.

“Sign. It,” hissed the app.

He couldn’t do it alone.

“Yes, Coach,” he said. And then he pressed his thumbprint down and held it against the screen.

“Very good, fatboy,” said the A.I. in his ear. “Now, we can begin our training!”