chubbygemedits

[chubbygemedits]

I love watching you grow bigger and more blissfully unaware with each passing day. As you indulge and expand, it’s like you’re letting go of all those pesky thoughts, focusing only on the pleasure of the next bite.

Every meal makes you more full, more content, and a little less focused on anything else. You sink deeper into the comfort of being fed, your world becoming a delicious haze.

Can you feel it, hon? How your mind drifts away, leaving behind worries and responsibilities? You’re turning into a beautifully simple creature, where your biggest concern is satisfying that ever-growing appetite.

I see you, eyes glazing over with each bite, thoughts fading away. The bigger you get, the more you relax into this carefree existence, the less you worry about anything beyond the next mouthful.

You don’t need to think too hard, just enjoy the warmth and fullness of being fed. Every pound you gain makes you feel more relaxed, more carefree, and a little less burdened by complex thoughts.

Let go, sugar. Embrace the simplicity, the pure pleasure of eating and growing. Let yourself become wonderfully carefree and blissfully unaware, sinking deeper into gluttony. ✨🍭

[chubbygemedits]

OC: Massive Male Mammaries

Gee Vos, I wonder why this keeps happening.

Posted using PostyBirb

[chubbygemedits]

Hello mate, have a sit down with your favourite aussie blue dog dad.

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Just a normal dog shape. don't worry

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King's Dad didn't just have a dad bod, he upgraded to king bod! 👑 🖤

Patreon sketch commission from Maxpany2

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Very flabby kitty catty for my half of an art trade with @catscranny!!

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twins goin out to da mall...

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Big soft bed boy.

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he likes to spoil them

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a special surprise from carol she's shy sometimes, don't go talking about how chubby she is or she'll blush

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2022 YCH commission for protosip on twitter

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🍕Pizza🍕

[chubbygemedits]

Spooky season #4 (Stressed out)

not the spookiest of horrors but can you imagine if this had gone on for much longer than a week or so?

It starts out innocent enough. One day at work you’re chugging away when your boss sends you an email about an urgent project you’re needed on. No one else can do it, only you. You take a look at the requirements: I mean…it’s within your scope, but holy cow the deadline’s not far off. You express your concerns but your boss doesn’t accept ‘no’, so…it looks like you’re taking on the project.

You pull your first all-nighter that night, ordering delivery for dinner and spending every available hour staring at your monitors. The cleaning crew comes and goes, you start to get dizzy from being awake for so long, and suddenly people are filtering back into the office all bright eyed and bushy tailed. The worst part is, you’re incredibly groggy, running on fumes, and yet you’ve barely gotten any work done at all, not if you’re going to get this project finished by it’s deadline.

Well, fuck.

There’s no way you can pull another all-nighter, that’s for sure. You’re bitter about it all day, floating through the hours and hardly accomplishing anything at all. At least by the end of the day you remembered the employee cafe. You steal away to it every chance you get, downing coffee after coffee and working your way through several bags of chips and candy bars. Sure, your blood sugar levels are all over the place but it’s either that or you fall asleep at your desk. You boss wouldn’t want that.

You go home that night like normal, feeling sick and bloated from all the junk you’ve eaten (and strangely wired as heck from all the coffee), so to distract yourself from all that you snuggle up on the couch, open up your work laptop, and begin chugging away once more. Around 1am you pass out, still on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls that once held mac and cheese, ramen, and a whole host of other carby foods.

You’re so tired the next day but you have to get this project done—it’s due in less than a week, which stresses you out like crazy. So you plop down at your desk that morning and focus like mad on the project, only getting up to take short breaks, all of which center around grabbing a quick snack. Your boss is generous enough to bring you lunch, too. More lunch than you could possibly eat in one sitting, but well, you manage finishing off several whoppers and orders of fries throughout the day. You’re so strung-tight about the project you barely notice you’re constantly shoving something in your mouth if your fingers aren’t typing. And, when your boss suggests/informs you to stay a couple hours later and presents you with a couple full plates of hawaiian barbecue as a bribe you readily agree.

By the time you walk out to your car that night your gut is painfully distended, crammed full of too many calories to count and threatening to revolt if you have any more. Somehow though, as you worry over what else you need to finish for the project, you find yourself at the drive through ice cream shop and come home with a couple blizzards to tide you over. Even after you struggle to finish those at home you still find yourself rummaging through your cupboards before bed, looking for anything to munch on, anything that will distract you from this horrendous project.

The next day is eerily similar, the only difference being you start your day off with several big breakfasts from fast food joints, snacking on candy through the morning, thanking your boss for the sushi luncheon that could clearly feed several people, more savory snacks in the afternoon, and finally another dinner catered by your boss—two orders of chicken teriyaki. Your boss said the shop messed up the order quantity but you’re not sure that’s true. Even so, that doesn’t stop you from demolishing it while you type away at your computer station. As you leave that night you joke to yourself that you look a little pregnant, huffing and puffing, panting and sweating lightly as you waddle out to your car, one hand holding onto your poor, tender, stretched out stomach while the other weakly holds your keys.

Of course you stop at the ice cream shop: they’re having a buy one get two free deal, and you do love their peanut buster parfaits.

The days remaining for the project are dwindling, which drives your consumption up like mad the next day. All day you’re practically glued to your desk, working extremely hard on spreadsheet after spreadsheet, mindlessly noshing away at whatever happens to magically appear at your desk, and it’s quite a lot. Breakfast shows up—a full, complete spread—as does a huge basket of snacks that you polish off before lunch, dozens of Chinese takeout containers for lunch, a baker’s dozen of donuts for the afternoon and once again, a massive dinner consisting of family sized buckets from the famous chicken restaurant. You don’t question it, you just inhale.

Day, after day, after day of this. Each night you come home (with ice creams in both hands of course) looking like you swallowed a beach ball, except the beach ball keeps getting bigger, and heavier. You didn’t think it was possibly to put on this much weight so quickly but then again, you’ve never eaten this much in your life, either, and the stress of this project is making you do odd things.

For example, you usually take a walk after work and during your breaks, but not now. No, instead you spend every minute you’re not working chewing and swallowing, relishing the comforting feel of fat, sugar and salt stimulating your senses and distracting you from those endless spreadsheets.

By the time the weekend rolls around you’re also feeling like you should be rolling. None of your pants fit any longer so you’ve taken to wearing leggings, and even then the roundest bit of your stomach tends to fold over the top of them anyway. Your shirts are too tight and won’t stretch far enough to cover your tummy, which is embarrassing, so you put on hoodies instead and hope you don’t have to reach for anything.

None of this stops you from continuing your poor habits though. Absolutely not. The clock is ticking, you’re freaking out that you’re not going to finish this stupid project, and holy cow if you don’t have some twizzlers to chew on right now as you proofread your last couple spreadsheets you’re going to cry.

The deadline finally arrives and you email it to your boss with just a few minutes to spare. As soon as you hit ‘send’ an immediate sense of relief washes over you and you slump in your chair. It’s funny though, your chair creaks so ominously as you lean back, and you’re startled to can’t even see past the huge, rumbling sack of flesh that’s accumulated around your waist in the past week. It’s currently growling for more food, preferably something carby and empty of nutrients, lots of fat and salt please.

You should be concerned about how engorged your stomach’s become, but instead, that feeling of worry and stress returns and all you can think about is how you’re going to fill your gut until you can’t feel any of that stress any longer.

It’s the only way you can deal with all this work, you know?

[chubbygemedits]

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woe, stupid lil fat league woman be upon ye