omgcatboi · 9 months ago
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I noticed pretty much every other feedee does selfies on the toilet, I think I understand it now 🥳
Also I am open for video call feeding sessions ( just cover the food ) as well as custom videos ( also just cover the food )
I don't charge more than the food / delivery costs because I just genuinely really love being a glutton and honestly you're doing me a big favor by feeding me. I stay pretty hungry!!
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bbyslvt-06 · 2 months ago
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I’ve made too many intro posts on here only to get deleted so I’m tired of it 😭
I’m 18+ (bi 🏳️‍🌈)
Minors DNI
I live in 🇦🇺 (student)
Cnc
Ddlg
Ageplay
Fauxcest
Impact play
Somno
These are just someeeee that I like ;) dm to find out more
HARD LIMITS (big NO)
Scat
Raceplay
Body shaming
Gore
Genital torture of any kind
Feedism
Beastiality
Vomit
De@th
I’m submissive, I don’t want to be your dom or top.
I DONT send, so if ur unable to talk without nudes do not contact me.
Dm me for my session if you’d like to talk more privately, I do prefer to talk to someone before I give them my session, it’s for the ickiest stuff so if u can match my freak u can have it <3
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tanuki-voice · 2 years ago
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Sharing is Caring (and The Art of Being Fed While High)
CW///: Drug use (marywana), Intox feedism
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You'd made fun of your roomie occasionally for their inability to mind their weight, their frequent smoking sessions probably doing nothing to help that fact. One day, however, they decided to start sharing their stash of magnificent bud with you, and as if fate itself had decided to make you a fool, you steadily began to put on weight. You had eaten your words, along with many other things. You didn't know just what it was about it, but this strain in particular made you so, so hungry.
And here you were, after a hard day's work, absolutely zooted and splayed across the couch. You'd perhaps done a little too much, and now you were absolutely starving. Your head was propped up in your roommate's lap, their comfy, chubby thighs feeling like soft pillows beneath you. They'd come prepared, and were gladly sharing food they'd ordered in advance, not even making you move. It was cozy.
"Open." They commanded. Obediently, you opened wide, and they slipped a chicken nugget in your mouth. You chewed and swallowed. You'd been doing this for the past 40 minutes, just enjoying the sensations, the taste of different foods, and the feeling of satisfying your hunger. You were still nowhere near full. You didn't want to be.
"One more," They said, pressing it to your lips. You ate from their occupied hand, while their free one ruffled your hair affectionately.
"Good job," They cooed. "You've been eating so well for me." The praise, combined with the sensation of the head rubs, shot warm waves of euphoria through your body. Their words made you feel as if you'd accomplished something. It made the eating feel so right.
Your attention then shifted to your stomach, and catching a glimpse, you were reminded of the toll of these sessions. There was no way to sugarcoat it: you had ballooned the past few months. Your formerly small frame, which had fit into this t-shirt not too long ago, was now packed into it rather noticably. A new squishy duo of breasts and belly strained the fabric, it barely covering your new love handles. Your pants fared no better, with widening hips and a ripening behind struggling to fit inside your jeans most days. You no longer needed a belt, and around the house you resorted to sweatpants that stretched to accommodate you.
It all made you feel a mix of emotions. One one hand, it slightly embarrassed you to give up the body you'd built your self image on. On the other hand, this new frontier of growth felt slightly, well, liberating. It was exciting, it made you feel warm inside, a little proud even. Words failed to express it.
Jokingly, you protested. "You're making me fat." You chided your roommate. They smiled softly. "I know, I can't help it," They replied. "It looks too good on you." They picked up a large bottle of soda, and guided it to your dry mouth. Opening eagerly, they put the nozzle in your mouth, and tilted the bottle upward. The brown, sweet, sticky ichor trickled into your mouth. "You used to make fun of me for being bigger," They thought aloud. "I thought maybe I should show you how great it is to be this big." You swallowed mouthful after mouthful, feeling your stomach grow, bulging and bloating with each gulp. Finishing the bottle, you let out a loud belch, and panted.
"Good job." Your roommate doled out praise, as they lifted your shirt to rub your stomach. The blissful feeling of a full tummy, combined with the stimulating sensation of high belly rubs melted your brain. Through the haze, you heard your roomie say "We're putting at least another 100 pounds on you." You rolled your head into their own fluffy midsection, nuzzling against the soft fat. You couldn't wait to see how much you'd grow.
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feederandfeedee · 4 months ago
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Hey I was wondering if I was to get a partner into feederism how does it all work?
Like do I just pay for an exorbitant amount of food for them along with cooking large portions for them?
I mean… no you don’t “just” pay for food and cook. You have to respect their boundaries, love them as a person and treat them with kindness. You have to satisfy all of their other needs fully and enthusiastically. You have to help provide for your partner and resolve conflict. You have to love each over. And then when it’s time for your fetish, yeah you might have to do some cooking and food shopping. Or you know, your partner might like to cook since feedees’ are also real people with other interests. You also have to accept the fact that not every meal is a stuffing session.
Let’s romanticize real feedist relationships. Because having “a partner into feedism” isn’t straight stuffing and belly play 24/7.
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lanawinterscigarettes · 1 month ago
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Kinktober 2024 masterlist~
my official collection of all things Kinktober for this year! requests will be open from now until October 24th, which is one week before Halloween. prompt list and other info can be found at the bottom
posts will be happening every other day or so starting October 1st and days will be added as more requests are sent in. if you want to be tagged in anything please don't hesitate to let me know <3
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Day 1: grinding with Jennifer Check x fem reader
Day 2: Monica Geller pegging a male reader
Day 3: John Bender with a gn reader who has a hand kink
Day 4: River Song, Missy/Gomez! Master, and Clara Oswald having a slightly tipsy, sexually explorative sleepover with a fem reader
Day 5: praise kink with the Fourteenth Doctor x gn reader
Day 6: feedism (feeding kink) with Greg House x male reader
Day 7: Gale Weathers pulling a male reader's hair
Day 8: Eleventh Doctor and River Song worshiping and giving all their attention to a gn reader
Day 9: Jennifer Check being straddled by a fem reader
Day 10: James Wilson x transmasc reader having semi-public sex that involves edging/overstimulation
Day 11: handsy makeout session with Clara Oswald x fem reader
Day 12: sex pollen with Steve Harrington x transmasc reader
Day 13: body worship, nipple play, and begging with Anthony Bridgerton x transmasc reader
Day 14: make-up sex, blood play and restraints with Joe Goldberg x fem reader
Day 15: marking kink, praise kink, and oral fixation/face-sitting with Jason Dean x afab reader
Day 16: Gale Weathers corrupting a gn reader
Day 17: Damon Salvatore fingering and praising a transmasc reader
Day 18: Eddie Munson giving oral to a transmasc reader
Day 19: Joe Goldberg x fem reader against the wall sex and praise kink
Day 20: Monica Geller overstimulating and praising a male reader
Day 21: James Wilson x male reader having morning/sleepy sex
Day 22: the Torchwood Five having an orgy with a gn reader
Day 23: threesome with Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and a submissive male reader (including: breeding, frotting, overstimulation, and nipple play)
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Kinktober 2024 info post/prompt list
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mortiskiller · 1 year ago
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Ruin The Pig
Content warning: This story contains extreme fat shaming, non-consensual weight gain, health play, and death feedism.
I am going to ruin you pig. I told you that when we first met up after you spent weeks begging me to feed you and use you.
You were lying in the hotel bed naked after I stuffed and pumped you full of 10K calories in a few hours, you were so small then, barely 300 pounds. It was cute that you pretended to be immobile while I fed you. Listening as you played the panic up and begged “fuck fuck fuck we have to slow down! I’m getting too big I don’t want to be trapped in bed!” I would silence you by shoving a messy burger into my face a shush you, "Shut your dumb fucking mouth and eat." I said forcefully but calmly, I saw the acceptance and submission wash over you as the realization that no choice is being offered but to eat and like a passive cow as you let out oinks and weakly pawed at my crotch.
I remember that fat ball gut you had, so small compared to now. That was pure surface-level fat, pushing your organs down, putting pressure on your GI tract, and making it harder for your body to pump blood. You are at a point where every new pound of fat is a step toward utter and complete obesity.
We would meet up every few weeks and you would pretend your arteries were clogging already from an absolute binge of cheese and grease, that you I loved only wanting the cheapest unhealthy slop. Preferring a ketchup-slathered triple cheeseburger and a pile of chocolates to some fancy steak and a nice cake.
I remember the first time you panicked and begged for me to slow down, right after you hit 690 pounds. I had woken you up for your 2 a.m. funnel session, I never let you sleep for more than 4 hours without eating till you passed out, I say, "Get up and walk to the scale.", pointing to a large black metal livestock scale in the middle of the room. Your mind was weak from being fed nothing but junk, weed, alcohol, and the hormones mixed into your slop. You throw your heavy flabby arms up to gather enough momentum to heave your billowing body up. I watched as nothing happened, you tried again. Again your body moved not an inch off the bed, all you accomplished was shaking the sea of lard that was your body.
Your face flushed with sweat and burned red as you strained your body, but you were stuck. Attempt after attempt, after an attempt to lift yourself, grunts and wheezing fill the basement.
A minute later your eyes went wild, and my hand on your chest felt a heart racing faster and faster.
I see that panic, it makes me hard. You are locked in now. A complete loss of agency and now you are nothing. I own your life. Any money, anything you own is gone. All you have is my pity.
Pity that feeds you.
Food and nothing else.
I told you my plans now that you were a helpless fucking lard-ass NEET in my home.
1. Hormones to make you the perfect pile of shame. Bury your dick in fat, widen your hips and tits, make a perfect pussy for Daddy to fuck.
2. We are starting an Only Fans! You get to be my immobile plaything that I take every sadistic desire out on, and I get all the money.
3. Some more feeders are going to stop by and have their way with you. You are my toy to loan out to other feeders and chasers.
I lean into your sweating, beat red face, and put a hand around your neck roll. "You are just a waddling weak whore doing what I say till your bloated wrecked corpse is left in a hotel room covered in cum and food, got it?"
As you opened your mouth to answer, I shoved the funnel in. You asked for this pig. 
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secr3treveal3d · 6 months ago
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lovely-ari · 3 months ago
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A feedism session but you keep jiggling and wobbling your belly to distract me from talking about months-old Kendrick and Drake beef and the demoralization of the internet
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triggeredpoet · 2 months ago
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what’s your ideal feeder like?
I’ve gotten this question a few times and honestly I wasn’t sure what I wanted yet, but I defs know now what would suit me best.
To some degree my feeder and I have built some type of friendship or just getting to know each other and trust each other.
I think on the actual feeding aspect and his role as a feeder I’d really like someone who can fill me up with affirmations and food as well as encouraging me to eat something fatty or not so healthy.
If I were to map out an ideal week of feeding with my future feeder I think I’d love a feeding session 1-2 times a week…I can’t be stuffed with junk food every day cuz that would mess up my mental health and my skin would break out lol. In between the feeding sessions I’d love to talk about all things food I’m going to cook during the day and being encouraged to eat something “bad” lol.
On my end I’ll probs be sending pics and vids of the product of my gluttony and *fat chat* (I think that’s what it’s called lol)
Obviously the way I wrote it out is pretty robotic so it’ll defs be more flexible than that but this is what my ideal feeder-feedee situation is like.
For the most part I’m pretty wary of meeting people irl I’d honestly like to talk to someone extensively before meeting up. I am (for the most part) looking for an online feeder. Not closed off to something in person but it would be easier with school and other things in my life if feedism didn’t dip over into other aspects of my irl life
Sorry for the paragraph lol. Hope everyone is having a great day🌈🌞
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Ideals
My ideal submissive and feedee is smaller than me. Shorter. Not quite as heavy. Someone I can throw around or push over. She would be able to eat a lot, but I still outclass her pretty handily. I want to be her garbage disposal.
I like all manners of submission, but a sub who wants me to take care of her is really special. Planning her days by the hour, picking her clothes, her makeup, her nails, her hair, her meals, how much she eats…removing as much choice and thinking as possible. Removing as many obstacles as I can to allow her to focus on her passions, and looking pretty for me is ideal. If I can enable her to grow and flourish and bloom, then I’ve done my job.
Ideally, she loves praise and being rewarded. She loves doing things I set out for her, and she loves doing things together. She loves completing tasks, making reports, and researching. She also loves games of all kinds, expressing herself through her art(whatever it is), and is certainly a real dorky nerd. She loves eating. She simply must love eating. She must love being trained. I love training submissive a little each day, and introducing them to more and more things I know they will love, and that will maximize their pleasure. She must also love routines. There doesn’t have to be many rules, perhaps just one: listen.
I like being much bigger, 100lbs+ and a foot taller. I want my hands to be massive on her. I want her to feel small and protected, even if she’s really quite huge. I want to tower over her and be able to wrap my arms around her either because they’re so long, or she’s so squishy.
Fat girls always giggle and squeal when you can manhandle them. One of my favorite tricks to pull out of my hat. So what you weigh 300lbs+? I can fling you across the room or hold you where I need you no problem. Really get me going and I may just lift you up. Adrenaline is a powerful thing.
I want to build a space for her around me where she’s heard, celebrated, and made to feel safe. Where her dreams are reality. I want her time around me to feel like a fantasy come to life. If I can make the world revolve around her, I will. I want to spoil her rotten, and then some. I want her to feel open to experimentation, and to trying new things.
I want to completely redefine pleasure for her. Mind shattering orgasms. I want her dedication and devotion to be rewarded. Hours of playing with her until her body can’t take it and she explodes in desire. I want trust, too. If she trusts, I trust, and we go places neither of us ever have. Deep, intense sessions with all manner of new and different kinks we’ve never fully tried, or that require total abandonment of reservation. All in the pursuit of a greater pleasure, and a greater peace together. Ideally, we will be able to play each other like fiddles.
Feedism fits perfectly in this dynamic for me. Stuffing, gaining weight, and pushing limits are all common, and are mirrored in D/S dynamics in general. It also goes hand in hand with pleasure control. Eating in extreme excess simply for enjoyment fits right alongside pushing the body and the mind for maximum pleasure.
Because I like to take care of my submissive, DD/LG dynamics also work well for me. Creating a fun, relaxed, and completely cute environment where thought, choice, and even talking is totally optional and entirely not necessary is easy for me. I love gift giving and planning out activities, so it’s easy for me to create a little space for the submissive. I’m also a total sucker for extreme cuteness.
Ideally we are a 24/7 dynamic as well, and romantic partners. A deep connection made only stronger by placing each other in each other’s hands every day. I’ve only ever had a 24/7 dynamic once, and it redefined what I thought possible.
In my world with my submissive, there IS takesy backsies. Safe words, traffic lights, serious aftercare, and session logs are all regular. To go to these deep places far in our minds and hearts, there must be ways to come out of it, heal from it, or stop it. At any time I want the communication to be open. We can rewind, end, or redefine things as needed to help each other reach these new depths of pleasure. Things can be added or removed at will, and we can fix things that don’t feel right.
In my mind, my submissive is trusting me to take her to places she’s never been in her own mind, and in pleasure as a whole. She’s trusting me to take as much off her mind as possible, so she can be free. I want to do the thinking, and the planning, and the worrying so she doesn’t have to.
thanks for reading!
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the-fae-in-your-walls · 5 months ago
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Feedism POV
[Reader x Caring Feeder]
CW: Feedism, Weight Gain
“Okay, and 3… 2… 1! That's the last of it! Great job gorgeous!” Your feeder exclaims, that familiar goofy smile spreading across her lips as she looks in awe at your swollen, bloated form. Eating this much is hardly a rare occurrence for you by now, naturally, eating enough on a daily basis to put the average family of 4 to shame, yet your feeder remains as giddy as ever.
Her endless optimism seemed paralleled only by her drive to make you grow, yet she was perfectly aware of how important aftercare was to you. She gently brushes your cheek with her hands, a smile plastered across her face. “See? That wasn't so bad! You did such a good job baby! I'm so freaking proud of you!” she adds, her hands slowly exploring as they make their way towards your soft, yet incredibly over packed stomach.
She knows exactly where to apply pressure in order to make you burp, a great relief after such a large feeding session, during which she'd been as much a cheerleader to you as a feeder. When you started dating seriously, you were far smaller than you are now, always struggling to find a feeder who matched your drive, looking out for your needs. Yet once you'd met her, there truly was no going back for you.
She'd taken you from simply “fat” to enormously obese. Long gone were the days of getting dressed alone, showering alone and standing alone. These changes certainly did scare you at first, but each was made so intimate, so tender and so loving that soon you could never imagine wanting to do anything alone again.
Constant positive affirmation and reassurance were her methods of keeping you happy, pampered and, more importantly, loved. Tender kisses placed on areas of yourself that you had previously disliked, her cooing as you completed even the simplest of tasks, nights spent making you feel important.
Yes, her endless love has spoiled you. It had gotten you used to constantly being the most important person in any given situation, yet neither of you could think of a single reason as to why this was anything other than an improvement.
You feel her as her lythe, energetic fingers dance across your stomach as you sink further into your post-stuffing haze. You can feel as they gently circle your rolls, causing you to burp repeatedly, relief washing over you as you finally have the room to breathe. Her brilliant, excited smile makes your heart flutter as you look down. Endless enthusiasm, an endless pull to make you ever larger, more comfortable and pampered.
“Okay baby, are you ready for more?”
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fattyl0ve · 4 months ago
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SFW Positive Feedism Questions:
They are all on the softer side and getting to know each other more, ask whatever you want and reblog so others can do the same!
1. What is your favorite food to share with someone?
2. How did you first get interested in feedism?
3. Do you prefer savory or sweet foods when indulging in feedism?
4. What's a memorable experience you've had involving feedism?
5. How do you balance feedism with your overall health and well-being?
6. What are some tips for someone new to feedism? (Not just on weight gain)
7. How do you incorporate feedism into your daily life?
8. What are your favorite recipes or foods for a feeding session?
9. How do you tell your partner that you’re into feedism?
10. What's the most enjoyable part of feedism for you?
11. How do you ensure consent and comfort in feedism activities?
12. How do you find like-minded individuals in the feedism community?
13. What's your favorite way to relax after a feeding session?
14. Has your perspective on food changed since discovering feedism?
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marytheberrygirl · 3 days ago
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Session with a Feeder Pleasure Domme 💕
For all of my gluttons asking about fattening you up:
I specialize in feedism, inflation, humiliation, role-playing, teasing, mind games, encouragement, and praise 🤭
I do calls, video, texting, and custom voice notes.
You will be worked on, you will be prodded at, and you will always be cared for.
My hands are magic for massaging to create more room. My voice will unlock your abundant potential for ever-growing desire. And my temptress powers will leave you completely transformed from where we begin.
I believe in clear boundaries, direct communication, consent, and aftercare. Once we have clarity on those is when my true work can begin. 😈
I conduct sessions via Discord or Loyal Fans. ** If you want to session with me in person we have to do so online first**
💌 DM me for instructions using the code: SESSION
Your destiny is on the other side of your gluttony. Come with me….🍭
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especially-interested-ffa · 5 months ago
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feedism nutrition tip #1
Maximize both the indulgence & wg potential of a stuffing session w/ supplemental betaine HCL & digestive enzymes ✌🏻
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lovely-ari · 2 months ago
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Peach, purple, green, orange, yellow 💛
Jimbo you already know I'd love to meet up with you for a feedism session with the info I have 👀👀
I also do consider us to be pretty good friends!😊💞💕
I lied about that last one being my last
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queercoshon · 3 months ago
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Another story/more of a musing really. I tried to write this as gender- ambiguous as possible, because I think no matter how queer feedists transition, we've all experienced at least some part of this. Being able to participate in feedism is a victory for me. It means I feel safe in my body, and have recovered from the damage as a trans teen.
I hope you all find peace with yourselves.
Enjoy!
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For a long time, you didn't have the words to describe what was wrong. Once puberty hit, staring in the mirror was like looking at a stranger. Your hips, your chest, your face; none of it matched who you thought you were.
But because you didn't know what was happening, you couldn't talk about it with anyone. So the easiest thing to do was to shove those feelings down. And they were easier to shove down with food.
Any time you felt dissociative, you'd get a pint of ice cream or an extra large slushy to use the cold to shock your brain back to your body. When looking in the mirror made your skin itch, you'd grab pizza or a large fast food combo with extra pop, and hurriedly gorge until just the skin over your stomach itched from stretching. At social gatherings where you were forced to wear extremely gendered clothing by your parents, you parked your socially awkward self in front of the food table, keeping your hands, mouth, and mind busy with countless hors d'oeuvres.
By the time you left your small hometown for college in the city, you were nearly beyond chubby, bordering on fat. And still had no idea why your body felt like a prison.
You tried to reinvent yourself, shedding the restraints your rural home had created. You tried to be social, join clubs, go to parties, join study sessions. You actually made a lot of great friends. But they didn't know that you needed to eat yourself into a food coma every night if you wanted to fall asleep without those wicked thoughts interfering.
With all of the social eating and drinking and unlimited cheap fast food, the freshman 15 hit you like a truck. By Christmas, you could say it was actually the freshman 30.
In your childhood bedroom, you looked in your dreaded mirror, but for the first time, the person looking back didn't feel so foreign. Your belly had rounded out considerably, was riddled with angry stretch marks, and had just started to hang. It was covering just a bit of your genitalia while you stood, and you knew it covered it completely when you sat down, even when you were leaning back now. You patted your gut, and a smile of wonder spread across your face as your chest jiggled along with it. You were at a weight now that no matter your birth gender, having a chest looked natural. Your body was starting to feel like home. Christmas dinner that night was the first time you gorged purely out of joy and hope, and not some need to bury things in food. You gained 5 pounds over the holidays, but you felt so much lighter.
School continued, and you continued to thrive. You managed to keep decent grades, had a solid friend group, and even though your clothes keep getting too tight, a sort of truce with your body. You kept overindulging, and things would feel ok.
At the end of year 2, a very close friend came out. During your time at college, you became aware of the queer scene but never had much personal exposure. So when zey came out, you tried to research everything yourself so you could be as supportive as possible and not burden zem with what would probably be stupid questions.
You browsed late into the night, drinking in everything about sexuality and gender (as well as your second 2L cola of the day). Flashing back to puberty and even before that, things started to make sense. The discomfort and dysphoria of living the way you did, and the euphoria of turning your plush body into your own creation.
In the early hours of the morning, you finally sat back in your chair, pinned down by the weight of your new knowledge and the weight of your belly. What did this mean for you? At this point, you were exhausted and decided to just sleep on it for now. Maybe you were trans, maybe you weren't. You were grateful food coma took over before your whirring mind could keep you awake.
You spent the next several weeks cycling between gaslighting yourself, questioning yourself, and loving yourself as a trans person. Summer gave you time to play with pronouns, your name, and try on some gender-affirming clothes; what you could find in your size, at least. Your size changed twice over the summer. You ate through the uncomfortable feelings and thoughts and gorged through the euphoria of your changing curves. Your family worried, but you assured them you were happy. You were actually almost honest.
Beginning year 3 was nerve-wracking. By this point, you felt confident in your gender and possibly your new name, but coming out felt impossible. What would your friends and family think? Who would stand by you, ignore you, or disown you completely?
You came out to your closest friend, the one who transitioned last year, almost by accident. Zey had been talking about how amazing it felt to get to explore zeir gender expression, and the spark zey felt when zey finally saw zem in the mirror, and you agreed. This led to a long night of deep conversation. Zey, of course, accepted you wholeheartedly and had even suspected as much. You even told zem how growing your body helped, and zeir support didn't waver.
After this, you started wearing what you wanted. You told your close friends, and most switched to your new name and pronouns right away. Some struggled, but you still sometimes misgendered yourself, so you gave them time. You were happy you did because they eventually came around.
You decided to go home for reading week and use that time to come out to your family. The night before you were so anxious, you ate yourself into a stupor. Your now incredibly flabby belly had swollen into an orb, and you could feel new stretchmarks tattooing your skin. You could barely breathe and certainly couldn't move. Luckily, you digested enough by the next morning so you could waddle to the car. You were almost hungry by the time you made it home. You were absolutely not hungry after finishing dinner, wheezing as you lugged your gravid gut up the stairs.
You told yourself you could come out after the first day back. Then it became I'll do it tomorrow. Finally, with only two days left and an encouraging video call with your best friend, you sat your family down in the living room.
"I'm trans."
There was a silence, and then you found yourself enveloped in a hug.
"Thank you for telling us."
They had questions, which you answered. Your parents clearly didn't love your name, but they promised to try. They told you they would tell extended family (with your permission and thanks), and all you needed to do was focus on school and doing what made you happy.
They made all your favourite foods the night before you went back. Even though you could feel your fat pressing into the sizes of your chair and through the rungs of the back, you felt lighter than you had in years. You again ate yourself into a stupor, but there was no anxiety fuelling your binge this time.
Once you returned, life turned into a new sort of normal. You had your preferred name put on the class records, and most people used the correct pronouns most of the time.
When wearing more neutral clothes and meeting someone for the first time, you realised they used neutral pronouns. Then you realised it was because they could not tell your gender, assigned at birth or otherwise. You had grown so fat that all sexed attributes were irrelevant. Your chest sat on top of your huge belly, and your huge belly hung well past your crotch hiding any genitals. Your hips billowed out, leading down to your massive thighs. Your back rolls had developed rolls. You finally felt totally at home in your body.
Time flew, you grew, and soon, it was graduation. Though your grades were on the good side of average, a professor had seen your value beyond tests and essays and had been able to line up a paid internship for you once you finished school. It was a desk job, which was important to you now, as your body had gotten hard to carry around all day.
Over the past year, you altered your body as you desired. Whether it was hormones, pierings, tattoos, or just getting fatter. More people couldn't tell how you identified, even if your presentation was more intentional. They just saw a blob of a person, and this gave you the biggest boost of euphoria yet. It had taken years of self-doubt, trial and error, and lots of experimentation, but you finally found your gender.
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