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bloggingforu · 2 years

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50 Best Gym Quotes, Fitness Motivational Quotes Can Give You Next Level Energy

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If you’re looking for motivational quotes If you’re here to read Fitness quotes Gym quotes, Motivational quotes You’re at the right place. In this article, you’ll find great gym quotes that can inspire you and encourage you get to the gym.

Don’t get discouraged if you aren’t able to achieve the body you want and the results you desire at the speed you’d like. There are moments that you are exhausted of fighting your body every day and staying committed to training consistently in the gym.

There are some super motivating gym quotes and quotes to bring you the necessary excitement to get into the gym and reach the fitness targets you have set. Regularly exercising every morning, with determination and focus can eventually give you the motivation to remain fit and fit all day long. Here are some gym quotes.

Here Is The List Of Best Gym Quotes.

1. “There are a lot of gym members with the physique of Tarzan however, they do not are able to lift the same weights as Jane”

Joe Defranco

2. “You must feel your muscles burning”

Inconnu

3. “I believe that when your body is strong, your mind is also strong. When I spend time away from the gym, my mind quietly sinks into a little depression”

Arnold Schwarzenegger

4. “No pain No gain”

Inconnu

5. “If you want me to do something… tell me I can’t do it”

Maya Angelou

#Gym Quotes

6. “No excuses”

Inconnu

7. “You will have to go to hell. It’s worse than any nightmare that you’ve ever imagined. But when it’s over, I know you’ll be the one still standing. You know what you have to do. Do it”

Duke, Rocky IV

8.”When it’s time to eat well and train, there’s no “I’ll start tomorrow, Tomorrow is the disease”

V.L. Allinear

9. “An hour of playing basketball feels like 15 minutes to me. An hour on the treadmill feels like a weekend in the car in traffic”

David Walters

10. “For me the meaning of life is to always stay hungry. The purpose of life is not just to exist, to survive, but to advance, to rise, to conquer”

Arnold Schwarzenegger

#Gym Quotes For Motivation

11. “Most of us think we don’t have time to train. What a paradigm! We’re talking 3–6 hours per week or a minimum of 30 minutes per day. That’s not a huge amount of time when you consider the huge benefits in terms of impacting the 162–165 hours of the rest of the week”

Stephen Covey

12. “Squat, jump, climb, throw, lift”

Inconnu

13. “Get comfortable with being uncomfortable”

Jillian Michaels

14. “Discipline is nothing to the pain of failure”

Justin Langer

#Gym Quotes

15. “Shut up and push”

Inconnu

16. “Currently, your competitors are training”

Inconnu

17. “The fight is won or lost long before I step into the ring, the real fight is in the gym and on the road when I go running”

Muhammad Ali

18. “Pain is weakness leaving your body

Inconnu

19. “Go Hard And Go Home”

Inconnu

20. “Maintaining a healthy body is an important job. If you don’t, you won’t have a clear and strong mind”

Buddha

#Best Fitness Gym Motivation Quotes

21. “Just do it”

22. “I don’t stop when my body is tired. I stop when it’s done“

David Goggins

23. “We have nothing and nothing. Shut up and practice”

24. “Wake. Practice. Looks hot. Kick ass”

25. “Go further. There are never too many people”

26. “Apologizing burns no calories per hour”

27. “Motivation is what drives you to get started. Habit is what keeps you going”

28. “Sweat is magic. Cover yourself with him daily to grant your wishes”

29. “First, they will laugh. Then they will copy. Do not give up”

30. “You might be able to achieve something that seemed impossible today, but it may one day be possible”

CONTINUE READIND : 50 Best Gym Quotes, Fitness Motivational Quotes Can Give You Next Level Energy

#gym quotes #fitness #gym #motivationalquotes #motivation #gymquotes #fitnessquotes #quotes #health #mindset #success

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hidden-there-in-the-lining · 2 years

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Safe foods (otherwise known as foods my ED/ND brain agree on):.. mostly for my own reference.

Caramel Rice Crisps (less than 400 calories for the whole bag, so if i binge its not the end of my life in that moment).

Knorr Pasta sides Alfredo (600-700 calories for the whole bowl when prepared as directed- good dinner when I haven't eaten all day).

100 calorie movie theater butter popcorn bags (they're huge and I make happy Poppy noises).

Pre-cut fruit (I know the calorie count at this point in my life, and I don't have to bite and rip which freaks me out).

Idaho instant mashed potatoes (the bags: 450ish calories for the whole huge-ass bowl and like hell I can eat all of that... way too filling).

Naked Smoothies from the store (OK for you, better than d..ru..gs. Sweet. Got nutrients and shit in it.)

Low-carb tortilla and fat-free cheddar roll-up woth salsa. (150)

Bread and butter chips.

10 piece chicken nugget from McDonald's. Same with burger King. No fries, no sauce.

Diet Pepsi/DrPepper.

Gatorlyte (60 calories for the whole bottle and I don't get blackout-dehydrated anymore if I have one of those a day.)

Medicine Ball Tea (200). (Lemonade, water, Tazo Citrus Zen and Peach Tranquility, and honey. The lemonade and the honey total 200 when I make it, because I use a huge mug and drink right before bed when I've skipped dinner.)

List evolves as time passes. I'll update periodically.

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aforrestofstuff · 3 years

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Been a hot minute since I did one of these. A good friend of mine gave me a suggestion on my discord:

So yeah this required a lot of research because I only eat like 3 things lol. Obligatory crack warning.

Tornado of Terror: Ice cream because A: it’s good practice for her esper powers to control a semi-liquidous substance and B: her constant rage has actually raised her default body temperature an additional ten degrees, so eating ice cream is a good way to cool off.

Silverfang: Oatmeal raisin cookies because he’s an old fuck. He likes chewy things because his teeth are held together by sheer force of will but also indulges in that extra crunch of the oatmeal to remind everyone in the old folk’s home just who the fuck they’re messing with.

Atomic Samurai: Any dessert-flavored cocktail that is made up of around 90% alcohol and 5% violence.

Child Emperor: Kid eats sweets for breakfast lunch and dinner, dessert to him would probably be a head of broccoli drizzled with a light yet flavorful dressing. Either that or milkshakes, because I get the feeling he doesn’t get to enjoy them too often... and of course they remind him of the good times with Zombieman.

Metal Knight: Only eats pre-packaged nutrient bricks and has not tasted anything sweet nor enjoyed a food morsel in at least 17 years.

King: I headcanon King as a huge momma’s boy who doesn’t get to eat a lot of homemade food because he fucking sucks at cooking and makes enough money to eat out all the time anyway, so his favorite dessert would probably be every and any home-cooked treat his mom makes for him.

Zombieman: I’ll be honest, I thought this dude hated sweet things but after reading that manga extra of him drinking sugar with a side of coffee, my opinion has switched. His favorite dessert would probably be something extremely decadent and sweet, like one of those 1000-calorie Dairy Queen sundae-shakes jam packed with chocolate and cookie crumbs. Or an entire fucking lava cake because this dude’s metabolism is faster than the speed of light and he’d probably stomach something like that just to see if he can, since apparently he’s all about breaking his own limiters. A friend of mine once ate three-dozen pot brownies in one sitting while speedrunning Mario 64 and I think Zombieman would be able to do that without the aid of the munchies. I know Zman internally insulted Pig God one time for well, eating like a pig but give the dude some alone time and an all you can eat buffet of sweets and he’d find himself in the same situation.

Drive Knight: Does not have a favorite food in general due to this motherfucker not installing tastebuds on account of them not being necessary to commit all degrees of murder.

Pig God: Oh my god. More like what isn’t this dude’s favorite dessert? Pig God has lost the ability to dislike anything he puts in his mouth because eating has pretty much become his main source of income, so it’s safe to say that if he can swallow it, it’s his favorite food. That includes desserts, but I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t partial to pudding. Just pudding. Bread pudding, chocolate pudding, strawberry pudding. Pudding.

Superalloy Darkshine: I’ve said this before but my boy Darkshine only eats the most obnoxiously healthy foods out there, sometimes over health-ifying those foods himself in his kitchen/protein meth lab. His favorite dessert would probably be one of those ancient bread seed logs and only because he’s allowed to put .2 ounces of stevia in it. Either that or literally just any fruit ever.

Watchdog Man: Those pumpkin-flavored dog treats because my man gets paid 2 cents an hour at the Hero Association and the poor mf in charge of payroll has forgotten he exists so he’s grown accustomed to eating only the dog-related foods people leave to him as offerings on his weird pedestal thing in City Q.

Flashy Flash: Doesn’t really have an affinity for sweet things on account of how fucking awful life in the Ninja Village was. He never got the opportunity to develop a sweet tooth because of all the basic ass food he’d be eating. Almost all desserts listed here would give him a heart attack, like making a Victorian era child drink McDonald’s sprite. It will not sit right with his spirit. His favorite dessert would he any vaguely sweet fruit with wine, or a coffee that is 90% creamer.

Genos: Something in my spirit is telling me he’d enjoy anything strawberry-related, although Saitama doesn’t like them. This leads to them falling out while a shortcake bakes in the background. Im kidding, obviously. But seeing as how ONE has a very “go stupid aaaaaaaa” attitude towards writing, it would be a very tame end to their relationship (assuming there’s gonna be an end) compared to all the other shitdick stuff happening in this series. Zombieman’s ass has been out for like 8 chapters, you can’t tell me shit.

Metal Bat: Kiddo snorts protein powder for breakfast, probably. He’s ripped as hell and his diet reflects that sorta, with a hint of seventeen year-old craziness thrown in there. Bitch eats like a violent stoner sometimes because he knows his metabolism can handle it and he won’t die from food poisoning nor food coma. However, his favorite dessert would be creme brûlée because it’s the only food you’re required to beat the shit out of before eating, and we all know he loves bonking stuff.

Tanktop Master: Over health-ifys shit like Darkshine, just to a lesser degree. However I also HC him as a huge momma’s boy, and if said mother is supportive in his endeavors to become the world’s swolest man, she’d definitely make him something both sweet and healthy. However, I’d doubt he care about slipping up on his diet every once and a while. He’d probably enjoy a soft serve here and there.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: his palate is very limited on account of being in literal prison. However, he doesn’t really hate it there for some reason, and I’ve even stated in a previous hc that he sometimes gets specialized meals in the cafeteria due to his status as a hero. His favorite dessert would probably be whatever chocolate-flavored sweet brick they can shit out. Like, motherfuckers get really creative with their ingredients while locked up and there’s a bomb ass recipe for chocolate cake floating around that I’ve tried and can confirm it’s 10/10 not bad. I’m getting off-topic. His favorite dessert is whatever asshole he’ll be eating out of that night.

Saitama: Even though he’s poorer than.... fuck, I don’t know. He’s broke but he still indulges in the prestige shit here and there. He’s got a massive sweet tooth even though he’s ripped as hell, hence why he eats so much fruit because it’s the only sweet thing he can afford to ingest without losing his gains. His favorite dessert would be anything banana-related, but nothing as decadent as say, dark chocolate. Probably banana foster waffles. I don’t know why that popped into my head, I just know Saitama would like them.

Garou: motherfucker could shit on a rock with sprinkles on it and call it dessert. His favorite, though? Sweet, sweet victory. And candy bars.

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greatbigbellies · 3 years

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New anonymous commission story! This is another hyperpregnant slice of life piece, about a couple of boys who find out that they can conceive additional babies mid-pregnancy which will grow to catch up to the largest sibling, resulting in rapid growth for one of the husbands! Contains hyperpregnancy, tmpreg, some weight gain and lactation, mild belly worship, and allusions to sex.

Leo sat in the passenger seat of he and Marko’s sedan, his boyfriend behind the wheel. The pair sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. They’d received some… rather shocking news from Leo’s most recent doctors appointment. All three babies were fine, all perfectly healthy... but that was precisely the point, all THREE were healthy. At three months in, Leo was at the tail end of his first trimester, and when he started, there was supposedly only one in his womb. Then a few weeks ago, they were suddenly expecting fraternal twins. Then finally, today, triplets, all inexplicably at the same stage of growth.

“What’s going through you mind, hon?” Marko finally asked, breaking the silence. Leo brushed a few brown, fluffy hairs out of his face with one hand, and held his tummy protectively with the other. “I’m just… I’m floored we’re having three kids! I’m just… confused I guess? Like we were set with one for a while… and then two… and now…” Leo trailed off. Marko squinted in concentration as he thought of how to word his theory. “I… think I know the pattern… I don’t think it’s a matter of the doctors just mysteriously being unable to count…” Leo could tell where this was going. “You mean…” Marko nodded. “Think about it? There was the night we conceived after the party… that’s one. Then there was minigolf night...” Marko began listing off. Leo nodded, “Yeah, Minigolf was fun, we need to do that again sometime,” Leo smiled. Marko raised an eyebrow, “Like… just the minigolf, or what came after too?”

Leo turned to him and batted his eyelashes, “I dunno, can you get another hole in one?” Marko felt himself start to blush. He was typically the more dominant one, but Leo knew how to push his buttons. “Besides, I wanna test your theory. See if I wake up with four tomorrow,” Marko was now no longer ‘starting to blush’ and was instead outright blushing. “Are you teasing me, or are you serious? Cause our turn to go golfing comes up in two blocks,” Leo put his hand in Marko’s shoulder, leaned over, and said “put another baby in me,”

Marko smiled mischievously, eager to relive their minigolf date. “But! If I win you gotta buy me a sundae. The babies want hot fudge,” Leo teased. Marko’s grin widened. “Nah hon, I’m gonna get a hole in one, beat your ass at minigolf, buy you TWO sundaes, watch you eat them, then we’ll fuck like there ain’t no tomorrow,” he said, wearing his confident smile proudly. Now it was Leo’s turn to blush, turning away and putting his hands over his mouth and cheeks. “Fuck, I hate it when you get all assertive like that,” he said through his hands. Marko laughed. “No you don’t, you little bottom!” Leo erupted in laughter himself, his adorable, irregular laugh like music to Marko’s ears.

“I mean… in fairness, you’re too competitive to lose on purpose, but too much of a gentleman to let a pregnant guy go hungry,” the praise elicited another more subtle blush from Marko, two ran his hand through his short, black undercut. “I mean… you need lots of calcium for the babies. There’s milk in ice cream so, like… it’s good for you right now?” Marko stumbled to his point. Leo chucked and lifted the hem of his beige sweater up to his chest, exposing his tiny first trimester tummy, looking ever so slightly pudgy from being 3 months along. Marko’s blush shifted to a deeper red and he tried to focus on the road, but was a sucker for Leo’s belly. “You’re going to get so big with four babies,” he said, his voice just slightly quivering in anticipation.

“Why stop at four?” asked Leo. “Are you serious?” replied Marko. “100%. We’ve talked about this before. We both love…” he gestured to his bare tummy, “THIS. We both have decided to take on fatherhood, why not just… shoot for the moon?” he put his shirt back down. Marko pulled into “Albatross Minigolf” and put the car in park, looking very seriously at Leo. “That’s going to be really hard on your body,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger car,” “I know,” “We’ll need a bigger APARTMENT!” “Marko… we’ll be fine! We only get to really do this once, lets make the most of it!” said Leo reassuringly. Marko wasn’t sure if “this” meant pregnancy, parenthood, or life in general, but he didn’t care. He kissed Leo on the lips, beyond excited to watch his boyfriend grow huge with his babies.

He got out of the car and ran around to the other side to get the door for Leo. He was more than prepared to dote on the man, already deciding he’d get Leo THREE sundaes after minigolf. After all, they’d need some calories to burn.

3 months later

Now six months along, and swollen with large sextuplets, Leo was solidly what one would call ‘very, VERY pregnant’. His usual button up flannel shirts had grown tighter and tighter until they wouldn’t button. While the pair did like the belly out, unbuttoned shirt look, Leo preferred to be more modest when in public. As the temperature dropped due to the coming of autumn, Leo had switched to his larger sweatshirts to remain covered, and even those didn’t really do the job anymore. Now looking overdue with quads, he waddled through the Willowbrook Square Mall wearing that same beige sweater he wore during minigolf night, once two sizes too big, now pulled tight over his bump and only reaching just above his navel.

To cover his lower belly, he wore a supportive belly band to help redistribute the weight of his womb and provide some modesty. Unfortunately for Leo, but much to Marko’s delight, the top hem of the belly belt and bottom hem of the shirt couldn’t quite meet, resulting in a cheeky strip of exposed tummy, complete with his popped navel peeking out.

Leo’s belly swayed slowly back and forth as he waddled next to Marko, squeezing his hand. He absolutely loved being so pregnant, but he tended to get colder feet in public. He was a sight to behold, and people weren’t shy about staring at his impressive bump. “I think that lady has intentionally hopped from store to store to keep me in view,” whispered Leo meekly, “She just keeps watching me, it’s weird,” “Bet she’s jealous of how great you look,” chuckled Marko. “Marko! I’m serious!” Leo hissed, “I like being this big but I don’t like being the center of attention!”

Marko raised an eyebrow, not liking his boyfriend being nervous. “I can talk to her if you’d like?” Leo shook his head, “Nono, I don’t want confrontation, I just want… honestly I just want a milkshake…” he said as cravings shifted his focus to his empty stomach. With each added baby to his womb, his appetite grew stronger, even as the amount of room in his smooshed digestive system grew smaller. Marko swiftly steered the pair toward the food court, knowing exactly what to get him.

Leo wasn’t much of a foodie before pregnancy, but getting knocked up had not only expanded his palette, but increased his appetite to the point Marko was constantly feeding him. He had actually become something of a good cook, and really enjoyed feeding Leo. As a result of his new caloric intake, Leo has began to physically soften with time, his thighs and ass become pillowier, and for the first time in his life, he had love handles. Marko took this as a point of pride, that his cooking was good enough to make someone a little pudgy. Of course, the constant flow of ice cream treats certainly didn’t hurt either.

“Any preferences, dear?” Marko asked as he helped Leo ease into a chair, which had to be pulled away form the table to make enough room for the belly. “Where you buying?” He asked. Marko tilted his head toward one of the chain restaurants in the court, “Sonic has the biggest shakes here, and I know you like car-” “Carmel oreo please,” grinned Leo. Marko’s heart flittered a little bit at Leo’s innocent smile, still in the honeymoon phase even after being together for so long. He nodded and made his way toward the Sonic, leaving Leo to sit and rest his aching feet.

He placed his hands on the top shelf of his belly, and scanned the food court. He was semi-used to being stared at by this point. Being visibly trans, being in a visibly gay relationship, hell, even his nose ring got glares from older folks. But this felt different, it wasn’t him they were stealing glances of, it was his belly. He felt a draft blow across the sliver of exposed skin between his sweater and belly belt, and felt a little self conscious. To make matters worse, the woman who had been stalking him made a b-line and was actually approaching him. He considered getting up and moving, but knew he’d reached the point in size and weight were he really needed Mareko’s help to do anything quickly.

“Excuse me!” she said, Leo braced for the worst. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve been following you around, we’ve made eye contact like 4 times, but I really need to ask you something,” she continued. Poor Leo grimaced and prepared for the worst. What invasive question would he have to answer this time? She took a seat at his table, sitting across from him. She made eye contact and seemed very direct, something Leo wasn’t super crazy about.

“So my friend is pregnant, and she’s carrying decuplets, and she’s really starting to struggle with her size… where did you get that tummy support thing?” Leo blinked, feeling like an overhyped bandaid was just painlessly torn off. “Oh, uh, there’s a place across town that sells maternity wear, called ‘twins n’ up’, and the owner makes their own stuff. They, uh, they custom made it for me,” he answered. The lady nodded intently and made several notes on her phone.

“Is this lady bothering you, hon?” asked Marko as he returned with 32 ounces of creamy milkshake. “No, actually she was just asking me about this!” Leo pulled the hem of his supporting belt, letting it snap back against is belly. “I swear I’m not trying to harass your husband, he’s just the first person i’ve seen who is as pregnant is my friend and I wanted to know where he got his clothes. I’ll leave you guys alone now, thank you!” she said to Marko, offering her seat to him. Marko’s protective nature made him a little cautious of the woman’s intentions, but she seemed harmless enough. “Take care!” smiled Leo as she left. Marko sat across from him, and handed him the milkshake.

Marko chuckled, “I guess we look like husbands now?” Leo took a long, indulgent sip of his shake, basking in the sugaryness of it all. “I mean, we are growing our family quite a bit,” he patted his tummy, “I think it’s a fair assumption we’re married,” Marko considered the situation for a moment and realized, yeah, it WAS a fair assumption they be married, or at least engaged… maybe it was near time he brought assumption to reality…

3 more months later

Marko and Leo were currently no longer boyfriends. Rather, they were fiances! Marko popped the question privately after a very fun and successful baby shower, and Leo immediately said yes. Some tears of happiness were shed, celebratory cake was consumed, and more babies were added to Leo’s ever swelling womb later that night. Things were progressing smoothly for the expecting couple as they’d moved from their old smaller apartment to a larger, open floor house.

Now 9 months pregnant with thirteen babies, Leo was a sight to behold. His belly was permanently bared, no wardrobe in the country able to cover his bump. Through some luck, good genes, and lots of cocoa butter, he’d managed to avoid any stretchmarks, but his navel was thoroughly popped. While he’d started the pregnancy off on the skinny side, Marko’s endless flow of food had made sure baby weight accumulated, and now everything from his legs to his chest was growing. The only part of him that didn’t seem to gain any weight was his face, which was still lithe and adorable. His fluffy brown hair had only grown fluffier and fuller with the prenatal vitamins he was taking. He had to lose his blonde highlight though, as the babies could absorb chemicals through hair exposure, strangely enough.

Marko had been hard at work unpacking their whole life into this new house, as Leo had grown too large to really do much besides be doted on, which Marko was fine with. He’d set up their bedroom, and taken the doors off their hinges and removed the doorframes to buy Leo just a few precious weeks of being able to travel through doorways. At the rate they were going, they would need every inch of their open floorplan just for Leo’s titanic tummy.

Leo’s belly now held not only tredecuplets, but enough amniotic fluid to stay full and spherical. He was clocking in at around 300 lbs, and just under half of that was belly. Through the help of Marko, Leo could still walk… but getting up and down was a challenge. Leo’s belly was beyond bigger around than he was tall, and there were substantial portions where he could no longer reach. That didn’t stop the couple from conceiving more though. Even at thirteen full and pregnant beyond words, the couple still had plans for more. Call it some kind of hedonism, but Leo loved being bred and growing ever more massive, and Marko loved to watch.

Even now, well into January, large snowflakes lazily falling outside, the pair were together, warm and happy. Leo had basically outgrown the couch at this point, his belly more wide than the cushions were deep. Instead, they had splurged on an electric recliner which was situated facing slightly to the right of the television, so that Leo could lay back in a reclined position, but only had to turn his head to see the TV, since he couldn’t see past his own tummy straight on at this point. Strong visible kicks could be seen occasionally poking out of his tightly stretched skin, often in places out of view from Leo himself.

He sat, laid back in his large, cushy recliner, eating some chinese takeout Marko had picked up for him. He set the styrofoam container on his chest, idly scooping noodles into his waiting mouth. A chow mein noodle fell into his cleavage, something he didn’t have 6 months ago, and he picked it out with his chop sticks, hoping Marko didn’t notice him miss his mouth.

Marko didn’t notice, too enarmored with his future husband’s massive midriff. He got to see it every day, and yet every day he somehow loved it more. His hands were almost always touching it, only off of the bump when cooking or otherwise doing housework. He knew this had to be hard for Leo, being so massive and carrying so many, so Marko worked hard to do his part. Anything Leo wanted, he got. Specific foods, foot rubs, new clothes, a bigger belly… all of it was hand delivered by Marko himself. For being the more dominant of the pairing, he’d become something of a servant as Leo grew closer to immobility.

Right now, Marko had a dining room chair pulled up next to Leo, and was working cocoa butter into the side of his tummy, working slowly to both be gentile and maximize his time spent touching it. It amazed him how no matter his size, or how many were in there, his overburdened belly still had just a little give to it. Leo smiled, watching his partner be just engrossed with his tummy. “You have such a hopeless belly kink,” he chuckled. “Hmmm? Me?” Marko said, almost missing the question cause he was staring at the belly. “Yes you! Even before I got knocked up you liked touching me there! Who’s hands were on my tummy when we made out the first time?” Marko blushed. “I mean, yeah mine... but also who was so eager he got close enough that our glasses hooked on themselves? Who was so willing he whispered how he wanted a ‘baby in him right then and there?’,” Marko teased.

Leo was the one blushing now, thinking back to one of their first dates. Little did he know just HOW MANY babies would be put in him later in life. “Is it… bad I still want you to put a baby in me?” he said, embarrassed by his own words and avoiding eye contact. Marko set aside the cocoa butter and stood up, taking a good look at the tummy that lay before him. “No… I don’t think it’s bad… but I wonder if there’s room in that belly for any more?” he teased, pressing the tips of his fingers into Leo’s exposed tummy.

“Oh come on Mark, don’t make me beg, you said you’d take care of me?” Leo teased right back, deepening his finance’s blush. “Hmmm…” he rested the side of his head on the front end of Leo’s belly, listening to the ambient, living sounds from inside. “It SOUNDS pretty full, can one guy get any more pregnant?” Leo crossed his arms and mock-pouted. “I won’t ever find out if you keep talking...” Marko leaned over Leo, casting a shadow across his face. “So you’re ready for number 14?” he grinned. Leo wrapped his hand around the back of Marko’s head and pulled him in for a kiss before whispering, “Why stop there?”

Another 3 months later

Marko had needed to make some calls. He had a few contacts with the fabrication industry, and knew some guys always willing to help him out. Now a year pregnant, and full of 20 babies, Leo no longer fit standard furniture. He was simply too large and heavy for traditional couches and chairs. Instead, Marko’s friends had put their heads together, and fashioned him a special, form fitting lounge chair, with a sturdy metal frame and soft, satiny cushions. They even thought ahead and made certain parts of it adjustable to accommodate for his growing size. And growing he was. Now beyond overdue, the growth of his still healthy brood pushed his body to new maximums. Leo often joked about how his womb would need its own zipcode soon.

Leo buttoned his shirt back up, setting the pumping apparatus on the table next to him. He’d had to start pumping his milk, or his breasts would begin leaking on their own, and frankly, he didn't want colostrum on his plaid flannels. “Hon, could you put that in the fridge?” he asked, pointing at the bottles of milk he’d produced. Marko ran his hand along the circumference of Leo’s belly as he moved past him, slightly tickling Leo in the process. He took the bottles and placed them in the fridge before circling back. “How’re you feeling honey?” he asked. “Big. Pregnant. Massive, really,” Leo answered. “Just how you like it?” Marko replied. Leo grinned, “Yeeeaaahhh,”

Marko placed his hands firmly on the expanse of pale, pregnant skin, and started kissing. Leo squirmed on his throne of pregnancy as his husband moved slowly up his belly toward his face. Marko gave him a deep, passionate kiss on the lips, causing Leo’s breath to shake slightly. “You love me so much,” he said in his quivering voice. “I”m so massive and pregnant and huge and round and you adore me like this.” he continued, getting a little emotional. “Of course I do,” replied Marko, giving his lovely husband a side-hug. “You’re my person, and you’re carrying a lot of persons, just for me, and that’s not easy. And I appreciate it. And I want you to know that I love you, both for doing that and for just being you!” Said Marko tenderly. Leo teared up a little, reaching out for another hug. Marko obliged, Leo wiping a couple tears on Marko’s 80’s style denim button-up.

“I couldn’t do all this without you, y’know… all… THIS!” Leo gestured to his astounding belly, which nudged with movement slightly in response. “You shouldn’t ever have to, babe. That’s why we have each other,” The two shared a tender silence, Marko rocking back and forth slowly. Leo sniffed and shook his head, “Augh, sorry. Pregnancy hormones… y’know… make me all emotional.” he said. “You’re allowed to be emotional, babe,” reassured Marko. “I know…” nodded Leo.

Leo’s tummy rumbled and Marko chuckled, “You also get emotional when you’re hungry…” he pointed out. Leo laughed his bubbly, infectious laugh. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that… lemme see… the babies want…” he paused, “Potato soup!” Marko nodded, making his way to the kitchen to cook a huge batch. “Anything for you, my love,”

#writing #anonymous #commissions #not bellies

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sterekchub · 4 years

Text

Feeder for Hire

Fat!Derek and feeder!Stiles Get Beached: Challenge Week Word Count: ~3000 Prompts: Captive/Captor Relationship, Size Pride, Too Fat for Things Read on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25550704 “You sure about this guy?”

For the last time, yes, Scott. I’ll text you his address and a photo and if you don’t hear from me -”

“ - by five in the morning, call the cops. I know the deal. You haven’t gone to anyone’s house in years. I thought you said no more?”

Stiles shrugged. “He’s hot as hell, we’ve done some video sessions before, and he pays…really well. A few nights a week with him and I can pay off this semester.”

“Have fun! Text me if anything…comes up.” Scott grinned, although Stiles knew he was still hesitant about how he made his income.

Stiles nodded, making sure he grabbed his keys, doubled checked he had his phone, the contract, and his preference lists in his pocket before leaving their dorm. Derek – although that could very well be a fake name – had met Stiles through a gainer website three years back, admitting he had followed Stiles’ page for awhile before messaging him. It had been a few months of exchanging back and forth conversations before Derek had asked about paid video sessions, and then in-person feedings. Scott was right, Stiles very rarely offered to do in session feedings, but Derek was a special case. Not only did he live only a few towns over, unlike most of the guys he dealt with, Derek was polite, almost embarrassed of his wants, tipped extremely well, and meshed well with Stiles. He had a snarky, quick wit and, from what Stiles had seen through a few pictures and fuzzy video screens, was exactly Stiles’ type.

Tall, dark, handsome, a wide bubble butt, thighs that rubbed together with each step, and a slightly furry pot-belly that was quickly becoming more of a blubbery gut as he passed three-hundred and fifty pounds, and kept going. Stiles has asked once if he had a goal weight. Derek admitted he didn’t know. He had already gained seventy-five pounds since he had first messaged Stiles.

Stiles had read through Derek’s profile a hundred times. He had requested short scenes, getting Derek through a stuffing, teasing and humiliating and forcing him to finish if needed. It was a little colder and more forceful than what Stiles usually liked to do with partners, but he wasn’t going to judge Derek for his interests.

1) Teasing and humiliation only. No praise. 2) Hitting/spanking/pain, okay. 3) I will provide the food. I expect to be forced to finish it all, by any means. 4) Funnel and tube feeding okay. 5) Tying down okay, rope or cloths only. 6) No blindfold. 7) You are not to let me come or touch myself until I’ve finished eating. 8) I will pay half up front, half when you leave. 9) Safe word: Triskelion

In return, Stiles provided a similar list, including his safe word, Scott. His were more focused on what he wouldn’t do, regardless of his clients’ request. It was a short list, mostly consisting of bodily fluids like spitting on clients, inflation, and serious pain. He had a feeling most would be a moot point with Derek, but he hadn’t felt the need to adjust his standard contract.

*******

Their second session went similarly to their first, minus the awkward introductions. Once again, Derek had set out the same spread of food on his table. Pan of alfredo pasta, chicken, blender full of gainer power and ice cream, and peanut butter brownies.

“You must really love pasta.”

“Highest calories.”

“Do you like it?”

Derek only shrugged.

“Do you cook? I don’t have an oven or anything in the dorm, but if you don’t mind me using your kitchen, I could come earlier and help – ”

“ – I order delivery.”

“That’s a crime, man. You have a brand-new kitchen! Stainless steel!”

“More work.”

“Is that why you don’t talk much? Too much work?”

That earned him something that was close to a smile. “You talk enough for both of us.”

“Guess it is hard to talk with all that food in your mouth, Big Guy.”

“Does it look like I’m eating?”

“You better fix that, then. I’m surprised a pig like you could hold back around all this food.”

That did it. Derek’s eyes darkened in arousal and he immediately sank into his chair and pulled the chicken closer towards him. Dutifully, Stiles pulled up a chair next to him, poking him in the stomach periodically and making remarks.

“Slowing down already? You only finished the chicken; I know you aren’t done yet.”

“You didn’t get that figure from moderation.”

“Jeans a little tight? Hold up that flabby gut for me and I’ll unbutton them. Wouldn’t want that to stop you from stuffing your face with even more…”

It was more natural with Derek. Stiles often had to revert to a script with other clients, repeating a few phrases he knew they wanted to hear. He did have to bite back his urge to praise Derek for his sizeable appetite, tell him how good he looked blissfully stuffed, panting and belching even as he reached for more. It was a shame Derek didn’t want to be worshipped or hand fed, treated softly like Stiles would have loved to do.

“Can’t – urp – too full.”

Stiles held up the half empty pitcher. “Drink it.”

Derek groaned and rest both hands on the side of his overstuffed stomach. “’m gonna pop.”

Stiles desperately wanted to slide his hands under Derek’s shirt and ease some of that fullness for him. It took a lot of self-control and mental reminders of Derek’s request to instead push down on the curve of his gut, eliciting a huge belch. As soon as he opened his mouth, Stiles tipped the contents of the pitcher slowly down’s Derek throat.

“See? Plenty of room.”

“No – urp- no more. URP.”

“Too bad.” Stiles told him, making sure Derek swallowed another mouthful before pulling the pitcher back slightly. “Should have thought about that before you finished all that food like a greedy hog.”

“ ‘S not my fault,” Derek panted, dutifully gulping down a few more mouthfuls.

“No?” Stiles knelt down besides Derek, slipping a hand under Derek’s paunch to palm his throbbing erection. “You haven’t been getting hard, thinking about how much you’ve been eating? How fat this is going to make you?”

“I – fuuuck. How much – urp- left?”

“Only a little bit. Why don’t you finish it off?”

Derek took the pitcher from Stiles, breathing heavily, clearly pushing himself to finish the little remaining.

“Getting too big for this,” Stiles told him, pinching his fleshly lower belly with one hand as he took his time jerking Derek off with his other. “Going to need both hands just to hold up all this blubber. Can you even get yourself off anymore? Or is your belly in the way?”

Derek came with a breathless moan, cut short by him cursing and stifling another belch. Stiles wished he could see Derek’s face in its entirety, but from his angle on the ground, the mountainous sphere blocked his view.

Grinning, Stiles got to his feet. “Knew you could finish it.”

He gave Derek a few minutes for his breathing to slow, then gestured at his swollen midsection. “Want help with that? I give amazing belly rubs, dude.”

“Don’t – urp- call me dude.”

“Is that a no?”

“Yes. Go home. I’ll send you the other half of your payment.”

Stiles nodded unhappily. “Fine. Text me if you’d like to schedule another session. Goodnight, Derek.”

He left, leaving Derek slumped uncomfortably in his chair, jean unbuttoned, come splattered on his lower belly.

*******

“Derek, sorry, hi! I’m here. Only…thirty minutes late. Shit, I’m sorry. The jeep was having problems starting and then it started raining….”

“I started eating without you.” Derek shrugged. “What was wrong with the jeep now?”

“Same thing. It’s an old car. It was pay for textbooks or pay for a new engine.” Derek looked guilty, like he was responsible for Stiles’ financial hardships, even though he was the main contributor to Stiles’ bank account, so Stiles added, “I’ll have it fixed next semester, probably.”

“If – if you ever need a ride or anything, you can borrow the Camaro.”

Stiles gaped at him. Derek was very protective of the car sitting in his driveway. Stiles had never seen a spot on it. He wasn’t even allowed to park the jeep anywhere near it because Derek was so afraid of it being damaged.

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I’ll have to get a, ah, roomier one, eventually.”

“Too much of a spare tire?” Stiles laughed, pressing himself against said belly so he could, just barely, reach behind Derek to grab handfuls of his ass. “Too much junk in the trunk?”

“Both. And if you’re done with the bad metaphors…. you’re soaking wet. Take off your clothes before you catch something,” Derek said gruffly. “You can borrow some of mine.”

Derek had a clear wet splotch on his shirt from where Stiles had leaned into him. Now that he was inside and less frantic about being late, Stiles realized he was shivering and dripping on Derek’s floor.

“Or we could both get out of these clothes and go upstairs.”

“That – yeah. Or that.”

It wasn’t what they usually did. Derek had rarely seen Stiles undressed, and normally Derek was too full to do much of anything in the bedroom. Stiles was happy to do all of the work, relishing the feeling of Derek’s belly resting against his back or riding Derek, watching his breasts and belly wobble. He frequently had to remind himself that Derek was a client, who requested teasing, not admiration and compliments, no matter how badly Stiles wanted to give them.

The contrast between them was even more apparent when they were together in the bedroom. Stiles threw his wet clothes by the doorway and eagerly got Derek out of his own. Pressed up against Derek, he had the chance to really appreciate how massive the other man was. Stiles’ leaned against him to press their lips together and Derek’s waistline spread out to either side of him.

“It’s official. Can’t wrap my arms around you anymore.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Nope. You’re that fat.”

Derek pushed him down on the bed. “Not to fat to fuck you.”

“Yet,” breathed Stiles, grabbing Derek’s side rolls as he was pinned to the bed by Derek’s lard. Derek had himself propped up with both arms. His doughy belly still hung low enough to press against Stiles, but it kept his weight from being completely crushing. “Keep gorging yourself and you will be.”

“Think so?”

“It’d be a good look for you. Stuffed, too fat to get out of bed, laying there like a beached whale and letting me do all the work.”

“Mhmn. You’d be up to that?”

“I’d be my favorite job,” Stiles told him honestly. “How long do you think, Der? Ten years? Five? I’ve seen all the ice cream in your fridge and the fast food wrappers the trash. Immobility isn’t that far away.”

“’S your fault.” He moved one hand to smack his gut, watching it quiver. “Getting harder to jerk off with all this in the way.”

“Awww, no wonder you need me. Your belly weighs more than me. Gonna be too much effort to try and find your dick buried in all that flab.”

“Fuck,” Derek moaned, rutting against Stiles. Beads of sweat were forming on Derek’s forehead from the exertion of holding himself up. Stiles swatted at his arm and tried to wiggle out from under him. The heavier man got the hint and collapsed on the bed next to Stiles, trying to catch his breath.

“Still up to pounding me into the mattress?”

“Give me…a minute.”

“Take all the time you need. Want me to bring the rest of your dinner up first?”

“…yes.”

******* Derek was dressed in a suit when he answered the door for Stiles. It was clearly an expensive piece, tailored to a man a few pounds smaller. The pants were stretched thin over Derek’s thighs and the jacket button was equally as stretched.

“Hey, Derek! That suit is a good look.”

“Work ran late,” Derek told him gruffly. “I didn’t have time to order the food. I’ll pay you for the extra time.”

Stiles waved a hand. “No worries. Rough day at work?”

“Yes.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Derek looked unsure. Stiles took a step forward and unbuttoned his jacket, helping Derek shrug if off, then started on his shirt buttons. After a few seconds, Derek burst out, “I hate being the asshole boss! I know – I know what they say about me behind my back. But they don’t understand! A missed deadline means we all look bad and with talks of layoffs and restructuring, we can’t afford any mistakes.”

“They’ll warm up to you. You’re secretly as soft as you look.”

“You don’t know me, Stiles,” Derek said tiredly.

“I know enough. You’re a good guy. Why don’t you relax? Take a bath, change, and I’ll order food. Sounds like you need chocolate. If you like chocolate.”

“What?”

“Chocolate. For bad days? Like chocolate cake? Or ice cream?"

“It’s been awhile since I had either. I was going to order the usual.”

Stiles shook his head. “Trust me, if you’re upset, you’re going to feel awful if you stuff yourself. I had something else in mind, if it’s okay.”

Derek looked hesitant.

“I was thinking, you eat your weight in desserts while I eat you out?”

“Let’s- yeah. We can do that.”

“Then get that fat ass in the shower,” Stiles laughed, “and I’ll bring the food upstairs when it arrives.”

******* Stiles had been hesitant since he walked in the door. Derek had been less talkative than usual, admitting only he stopped for fast food on his way home from work, before he had started on their nightly feast.

“Eating without me?”

“Ran into my ex,” Derek admitted through a mouthful of food. “Said a few…choice words about my weight.”

“So you went into McDonalds to spite her?”

“She’s a bitch.”

Stiles laughed uncomfortably. Derek was acting nonchalant, but still seemed upset. “Guess so. Look on her face must have been priceless.”

“Can’t have anyone thinking I got to be this size on accident.”

“The way you eat? I doubt anyone thinks that. How much did you order at McDonalds?”

“Twenty-piece nugget, double cheeseburger, milkshakes, two large fries.”

“Jeeze. Still think you can finish all this?” He saw Derek struggling more than usual to take bite after bite. Derek took a bite and then gagged; hand clamped over his mouth like he was going to be sick. “Are you okay?”

Derek took a few seconds, hand still clamped over his mouth, before swallowing and nodding weakly. “I’m fine. Must’ve swallowed too fast.”

“Maybe you should take a break for a little?”

“No,” Derek told him firmly, stabbing his fork back into the chicken, “I’m fine.”

Stiles could tell he wasn’t. His stomach was stretched out further than Stiles has ever seen, stretch marks an angry red. Derek had to be in pain. His arm was wavering, breath coming in shallow pants, each burp looking like it would result in a total upheaval of his entire meal. Stiles wasn’t sure he could sit and watch Derek force himself bite by bite to finish the sizeable amount of food left.

“Scott,” Stiles gasped out, “Derek, Scott.”

Derek immediately froze. “Fuck, are you – is it a panic attack? What…urp- can I do?”

“No. No. I’m fine. It’s – I can’t watch you do this.”

“You haven’t had a problem with it before.”

“Usually you’re enjoying.”

“I can – urp – keep going.”

“You almost threw up. Tell me you didn’t, Derek.”

“Jus’ need a few minutes….”

“No.” Stiles slid the food a few inches away. Derek reached forward, belly grumbling audibly as he groaned in pain, and fell back into his chair, glaring at Stiles.

“Then you can go. I’ll pay you for the full session.”

“Dude, no way I’m leaving you like this.”

“Mmpppfh. S’fine.”

“No, it isn’t. Think you can make it upstairs?”

Derek made it, but it was a laborious task. Stiles helped him slowly to his feet and kept a steading hand on the small of Derek’s back as he waddled up the stairs, taking one step by a time in agonizingly slow steps, trying not to jostle his overstuffed middle weighing him down. He finally made it and sunk with a groan of relief on the bed.

Stiles bent down and pulled off Derek’s shoes and socks. “Stand up, Big Guy. You’ll be more comfortable with less clothes.”

“Ngggh.”

“Come on,” Stiles laughed, pinching his inner thigh, “only a few seconds and you can lay back down.”

Derek reluctantly got to his feet so Stiles could pull his jeans down around his ankles while Derek tugged off his shirt. As soon as it was done, he fell back on the bed.

“’M too full to do anything.”

“No sex tonight,” Stiles promised. “This might be better.”

He rubbed circles over the top of Derek’s gut, which was so taut with food it had lost its usual softness. Occasionally, he would stop to trace over the multitude of stretchmarks, or press a little bit harder, massaging away the soreness. Eventually, Derek’s heavy, labored breathing, belches and groans fell away to snoring and snuffling.

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

dumbass quotes

hi! this is a list of dumb shit issawhat (huge inspo for frat jj) has said on twitch stream, not taking credit at all, one of the viewers created a google doc and i picked 100 of my faves and thought it could be fun to use these as prompts for a blurb thing

so, choose what jj you want (pike, sigma chi, college) and send me some numbers

(i have stuff i need to do today so i’ll start working on these later this afternoon and tonight)

1. I’m emotionally unavailable

2. My body/bloodstream is a pharmacy

3. I hate it here

4. My dick only touched my hands today

5. My dick is very clean

6. Please don’t talk to me

7. Teenagers are fucking pussies bro

8. I can barely read so I like looking at pictures

9. We’re having the opposite of a good time right now

10. I’m not even playing with my team right now, I’m gonna be independent and just run and shoot people in the forehead

11. You piece of dog shit. You utter piece of dog shit

12. IUD. Is that the implant

13. Fuck them kids. No don’t actually fuck kids

14. Are we talking about planets? I love outer space

15. Mars just probably tastes like cheese pizza

16. No offense. Actually, offense

17. You don’t wanna live in my mind it’s loud up there

18. Can we not talk about demons? That kinda stresses me out

19. There’s a video of a guy with a ton of tattoos who looks like he’ll fuck your step mom

20. I swear at one point I had bigger boobs than my ex

21. I just wanna be a shredded skinny boy

22. It’s not like I want to die, I’m just okay with dying

23. I don’t even touch my dick when I pee most of the time

24. Time to fuck some dumb ass bitches up

25. The amount I just got railed was way too much

26. I’m pretty sure nut has more calories than celery

27. I don’t pull out

28. I can’t hear you I’m dropping

29. I’m a fucking laser

30. My dick is 8 inches if I fold it in half

31. Actually my dick has never been on camera. I wear swim shorts in the shower

32. Where the pussy boys at

33. Imagine being married. Imagine having emotions

34. Sometimes I read then sometimes I think what if I didn’t have eyeballs

35. I’m gonna kick you in the fucking forehead

36. My lips are chapped as dick

37. It’s pretty early for arson talk boys but if you want to we can

38. You guys say a lot of sexual things and it stresses me out

39. It’s such a power play ghosting your parents

40. Blinking is for sore losers

41. Refreash

42. I’m gonna see how much of this beer I can delete

43. Don’t shoot me in the back that would not be cash money

44. Sand hanitizer

45. Condoms don’t even work

46. *talking about a funeral* open bar?

47. Adulting is for fucking losers

48. Alcohol? You mean spicy water

49. I hate how they make kids so stupid in movies. They’re dumb but not that dumb

50. It smells like soup in my house bro

51. And it went like

52. I’m not that versatile in my pegging lingo

53. What’s MI? Is that Michigan

54. I’m actually 4 food 5 and legally a short person. And I lost my juul. Oh no I just put it on the charger like an idiot

55. Pew pew pew right in your forehead

56. Guess who’s a dead bitch? You are hahahaha

57. Not in the mood to be trifled

58. Get bodied

59. I know how to talk to women. I’ve been doing it my whole life

60. Did I wash my hands? Sure…

61. You wanna see me in a skirt? No you don’t because I’ll look better than you do and you’ll get mad

62. Mom’s not home, we can’t kill the patriarchy

63. Go kick rocks

64. I’m not a wall puncher anymore

65. I don’t know I just work here

66. Fluffy duffy croissant boy

67. My brain sounds like a rock tumbler

68. Commit sudoku

69. Hit her with an actually

70. A lot of natural light but I wish we could get a bud light

71. I can’t hear you I’m yawning

72. I’m not an object I just want to be treated like one

73. I feel like when I eat I do better in life

74. I am pro elder abuse I agree

75. Nickle sized nipples that sounds like a bar

76. The cologne is in the air and I can taste it on my lips

77. The smell of this cologne reminds me of sex because whenever I use it I have sex

78. God damnit charge faster juul

79. Are you an innie or an outie

80. You can have my belly button pics for free baby girl

81. Does anyone want to meet god because I can help you out looking at you

82. Only if it’s pictures with sound

83. My second life I was a banana slug, learned a lot

84. I’m a virgin, I can’t hear you

85. I’m getting the nicest virgin (meaning version)

86. That’s what people say about my penis. Definitely doable but hard

87. A cat appointment? We call that a normal Tuesday

88. That fucking visor doesn’t slap

89. I should buy you a pair of catch these hands

90. I was watching ant videos last night they’re fucking crazy

91. LOOK UP TOP FIVE ANT MOMENTS

92. Who the fuck is spam risk and why are they calling me

93. What is a jetpack? Is that when you’re the big spoon but you’re small so you look like a jetpack

94. I’m gonna call you backpack though like dora because you don’t shut the fuck up

95. If you threw some long division at me I’d say go fish

96. I can’t even hear myself think. Not that I want to think

97. I don’t think I’ve ever had a fuck honestly. Does someone want to give me my first fuck

98. I don’t need to learn how to do anything, I’m 21. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks

99. That could lead into premarital breathing the same air

100. I didn’t even wear a hat yesterday so I don’t want to play thanks

#frat!jj #college jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #sigma chi!jj #pike!jj #jj maybank blurb

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nightmarexking · 3 years

Text

Need to know.

Basic Information

Full Name: Dominic Joseph King.

Nicknames: Dom, DJ, Nic, D.

Age: 28

Date of Birth: January 12, 1993.

Hometown: Beverly Hills, California.

Current Location: Queens, New York City.

Gender: Alpha Male.

Pronouns: He/Him.

Sexual Orientation: Straight.

Occupation: Owner of Vandal Gentlemen’s Club.

Living Arrangements: An apartment in a private building in Queens.

Languages Spoken: English

Accent: No accent unless you count that West Coast fused with New Yorker slang.

Physical Appearance

Hair Color: Dark brown.

Eye Color: Piercing green eyes.

Height: 6′1″

Build: Broad and muscular, works hard to maintain his physique.

Tattoos: Just one or two.

Piercings: His ears and his nose.

Clothing Style: He enjoys to dress well. Ranging from suits to more relaxed, athleisure attire.

Favorite Accessories: Accessories of choice are a necklace and a watch.

Distinguishing Characteristics: Dominic’s intense gaze and strong jaw structure are what he’s known for.

Health

Physical Conditions: Blessed enough to have had no serious health problems. Only the injuries he suffers from boxing, resulting in cut up hands and various cuts and bruises throughout his body.

Mental Health Conditions: Suffers from a serious case of needing to have his way at all times.

Allergies: Bullshit.

Sleeping Habits: Sleeps like a BABY after the long ass days he has, being mentally and physically exhausting.

Eating Habits: Dominic has a huge appetite from burning so many calories a day. He needs to have 4 meals a day to maintain his energy and muscle mass.

Exercise Habits: Any kind of physical activity, Dominic is all in. His main focus is boxing but he can be found in the gym almost every day.

Addictions: Dominic’s guilty pleasure is gambling. He’s damn good at it which only fueled his addiction to keep entering private poker games and taking fighting bets.

Drug Use: Smokes ganja, drinks alcohol and has dipped in blow before.

Alcohol Use: Give him all the Tequila and Whiskey baby.

Personality

Label: One could easily say Dominic can range from The Impulsive to The Alpha Wolf.

Positive Traits: Loyal, Charismatic

Negative Traits: Stubborn, Hot-headed

Goals/Desires: Dominic’s goal in the more recent years was to own a business but up until then, just to survive had always been his main priority. Everything he has now, he didn’t even dream was possible.

Fears: To become like his family.

Hobbies: Boxing, riding dirt bikes and quads, and anything in the outdoors. Like cliff diving when he’s on vacation or hiking.

Habits: Thinking he’s always right.

Favorites

Season/Weather: Fall, when it’s breezy and he can still be outside and not sweat to death.

Color: Red.

Music Genre: Hip-hop and rap mainly but his music taste is very broad. He can listen to a little bit of everything.

Movie: Van Helsing or Good Will Hunting.

Sport: Boxing, Football, Basketball, Hockey. It’s hard to pick just one out of those.

Beverage: Preferably good Tequila on the rocks but non-alcoholic? Pineapple Aloe. PIFF.

Food: Pasta. The answer is always pasta.

Animal: Domestic? Dog. Non? Panther.

Family

Father: Nathaniel King, although we don’t utter that piece of shit’s name.

Mother: Elizabeth King.

Siblings: 2 brothers and 2 sisters, that he hasn’t seen in years.

Children: None and unsure if he wants to bring children into this world for fear of his past.

Pets: None at the moment.

Other Important People: Dominic would consider Orianna Lopez to be on this list. He doesn’t get close to very many people and much less let his walls down. Yet, from the minute he met her, their connection was magnetic. They’re both very similar so it’s easy for her to relate to him, which isn’t a familiar feeling to Dominic.

Extra

Zodiac Sign: Capricorn reppin’ baby.

MBTI: Dynamo

Hogwarts House: Slytherin. Dominic has always been ambitious to get ahead in life all on his own, so his self-preservation and resourcefulness is all he’s ever known.

Primary Vice: Pride. His pride will always be his greatest strength and biggest downfall.

Primary Virtue: Diligence.

Element: The Fire Person.

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sarahbutsmaller · 4 years

Text

Things I thought/wish I knew about weight loss surgery

I’m stil in my early days to be fair, 10 weeks post op. So ask me in 12 months and my list might be entirely different and much more positive. My surgery happened quickly and unexpectedly due to Covid-19 so I don’t really think I had the time to prepare mentally. I still have days where I think “I’ve completely changed my life and my body forever and I wonder if it will ever feel normal” and I’m sure eventually I will, but for the moment it’s honestly still a struggle. But anyway, here it is - the stuff I wish someone had told me before I had Bariatric surgery.

1. How long my recovery would take

I definitely expected to be okay in a couple of days after surgery. It took me a good 4 weeks to fully recover and get back to doing normal things.

2. How much pain I would experience

Again, I thought I’d be fine and experience no pain or discomfort after a few days. I couldn’t bend over for the first 4 weeks. I couldn’t curl up in a ball. I couldn’t lay flat on my back for 2 weeks.

3. How much I would miss eating a full meal

You know when you make a bomb ass meal and you just wanna sit and devour the whole plate? Yeah I can’t do that any more and it is a total mind fuck! It takes a lot of time to get your brain to accept that you cannot eat as much as you want to.

4. That I wouldn’t be able to eat or enjoy certain foods again.

Plain Cadbury dairy milk chocolate, Nutella, Pepsi max. Used to be my favourites, now I can’t stomach them. Potato? Not my friend.

5. How hard it would be to retrain my brain to eat slower

It is so bloody hard to break a habit you’ve built over 28 years. I can no longer inhale my food. I actually have to chew now, crazy right?

6. How soon after surgery I would start feeling better about myself

I started to feel a lot better about myself once the weight started falling off. That first couple of weeks where you lose all your water weight is a huge confidence boost.

7. How good you feel when you physically cannot overindulge In sugary/greasy food

Don’t get me wrong, your body definitely tells you when it doesn’t like something. But I’m grateful that I don’t really have the option of sitting and suffering after over eating. I can’t eat to the point of food comas any more.

8. How important it is to be kind to yourself and let yourself rest when you need it

One of the most important things to remember. I was definitely way too hard on myself and expected myself to be able to do everything right away, but it’s so important to remember that your stomach has literally been rearranged and there are parts missing. Major surgery requires rest and recovery.

9. How good basic foods taste after being on a liquid and purée diet for 4 weeks

Oh yeah. I struggled on purées because there aren’t many things I like the idea of eating In purée form so getting to “soft foods” and being able to eat steamed Veges was heavenly.

10. How scared I would when my stomach would start to Allow me to eat more

Yep. You get used to your tiny new stomach and then all of a sudden you can eat more than you could before and it’s scary. Am I going to be able to over indulge again? Am I going to able to go back to my old ways? No, Probably not. My stomach will never be the size it was before BUT...

11. It is possible to still eat some junk food and sometimes, it’s actually easier.

Having a smaller stomach means you’re limited as to how much you can eat, obviously. And once you start eating so little, it becomes hard to justify spending money on larger amounts of food than what you need. So what does that mean? Well basically, it’s easier and cheaper to just grab a small chocolate than pay for a big salad or something and then take it home and probably waste it because you won’t finish it later like you said you would. Sometimes if I’m at home and I don’t have anything small and single serve to cook, I’ll just eat a doughnut or some sort of junk because I know it will fill me and I know there is no wastage. So yeah, it’s definitely still possible to eat a lot of calories. Especially if you’re like me and like to drink calories. I’d rather drink coffee all day and not eat and it all starts to add up.

12. The sleeve/bypass is a tool, not a solution.

It is incredibly helpful to not be able to eat much, but it requires A LOT of mental strength and energy and it is definitely not the easy way out.

And to finish on a positive note, my most recent comparison pictures. I’ve come a long way in just 10 weeks both physically and mentally and I am super proud of myself for it!

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pixieungerstories · 5 years

Text

Housemates - 11

Vinny was horny. There wasn’t another way to put that. And yes, Catholic girls weren’t supposed to think like that or even feel like that, but it was true. She wasn’t brave or rebellious. This wasn’t some kink she was trying to work through. She was flat out horny and Derick was the guy she was spending the most time with these days.

She didn’t have a boyfriend. She hadn’t in years. They made too many demands for her time and she wasn’t going to throw away her scholarship just to get laid. Ma had been very clear about the Catholic stance on premarital sex. Aunt Toni, however, had been equally clear on what behaviour you could reasonably expect from an adult woman. Which was why Vinny had BOB - that is a battery operated boyfriend - but that only worked for the immediate need. There wasn’t any conversation, foreplay or snuggling after.

She liked the guys. All of them, even if Kevin was a bit of an ass and Thea was clearly terrified of her. She hadn’t understood that at first, but once Derick pointed it out to her, she was amazed that she had missed it. Where things got really complicated was that she still had to live and work here and she was effectively considering taking advantage of Derick. Using him for sex. She wanted friendly sex. She just wasn’t sure how she would handle breakfast the next morning. She was aware she was pretty enough, but she also knew that when it came right do to it, guys weren’t as picky as they pretended to be. Objectively, Derick was safer than picking up a guy in a bar. How would that even work? She wouldn’t be bringing him back here. She was out of Ma’s house, but she was still effectively living with chaperones.

Right now, she was on the couch, cuddled up against Derick with Tristan rubbing her feet. Both of those things were working for her.

Looking around the room, she cuddled a little closer to Derick. She had given up on trying to make Bazur wear pants. He had some sort of fig leaf effect that worked well enough. Thea was watching from the ceiling. Kevin was currently the coffee table. It had been weird putting her drink on him. Kogan had a huge arm chair. Bazur had the other huge armchair. There was no sign of Dren.

Vinny worried about him missing out. She knew that after supper, he mostly went to read in his bathtub before melting as he drifted off to sleep. It just felt odd that he was left out of family movie night. Mind you, she wasn’t watching the latest instalment in the Action Hero (tm) franchise. The first one had been good, an interesting premise at least. Since then they had become bad parodies of the original. Trying to force another story out of the same formula had made them formulaic.

As she snuggled tighter against Derick, she noticed his arm hair getting a little fuller. “Is this ok?”

He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back.

She looked up, met his gaze, then kissed him full on the lips. He kissed her back. Kevin ruined the moment by snickering. As she pulled away, Derick leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Anytime you want to continue this, just let me know.”

She froze as she thought about that. Then she took his hand, stood up and pulled him in the direction of his room. No one said anything, but Vinny was pretty sure the guys all watched them leave.

She ended up in Derick’s room, him sitting on the futon, his hands resting lightly on her hips, her hands holding his face while she kissed him. After a moment she needed to stop, needed to breathe and ground herself. The crook of his neck was the perfect place for her to rest her forehead.

Derick stroked her back, “You smell lonely.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Vinny snorted. Then what he said really sank in. “I guess all those stories about werewolves are true then.”

Derick stiffened under her, despite the tension in his shoulders his voice was light. “Probably not,” he teased. “But, if you tell me what you’ve heard, I can confirm or deny.”

Vinny leaned back and looked at him. “OK. Biting?”

“Not my kink. Can’t speak for everyone, but it does nothing for me. Either as the biter or the, um, bitee.”

“Do you change while you, um-” holy shit, Vinny just say the word, “fuck?”

“I can. Most women don’t want me to.”

“Doggy style?”

Now he groaned and pushed her back a step. “I’m not some novelty fuck, Vinny. No. I am not a fan specifically because it’s the thing women want when they don’t care about me they just want to check a kink off their bucket list.”

Vinny froze. “This isn’t a bucket list thing. But, yeah… I just want a fuck buddy.”

Derick nodded, “I like being on my back so I can watch.”

Vinny decided to go for an easy one, “So the one about the knot is complete bullshit, right?” He blushed. “Or not?”

“That one is true. It’s another good reason for me to be on the bottom until we get used to each other. Consent gets tricky. If we end up tied together, there isn’t a way for you to change your mind and have everything stop without causing a lot of discomfort for us both. A tie doesn’t last very long. Five or ten minutes. But that is a long time if you really don’t want to be there.”

Vinny considered this.

“How do you feel about simulaneous hand jobs and cuddles after?”

“Sure,” Derick laughed. “Or, you smell delicious and I have a surprisingly long tongue.”

Vinny swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She nodded before stepping forward to kiss him. “Can I touch you?” she asked, tugging at his shirt.

Derick grinned and pulled it off. “Yes. Can I touch you?”

Vinny nodded and kissed him again as she ran her hands over his skin.

She knew it was a side effect from calories burned shifting, but Derick was lean and muscular in a way that made her want to lick his abs. She had been expecting him to be hairy or waxed. He was neither. He had a little bit of chest hair and a thin line running from his belly button to the top of his pants. It was like a perfect arrow drawing her eyes to his crotch.

His jeans hung low on his hip and she found her fingers going for his button.

“Easy there cowgirl, you are still very much more dressed than I am.”

Now she felt a little awkward. She wasn’t nearly as chiseled as Derick was. “Don’t laugh.”

Derick frowned, “Why would I laugh?”

“I wasn’t planning this when I came down from my room.”

“Neither was I, but I’m happy to be here.”

Vinny didn’t make eye contact as she pulled off her hoodie. She had enough squish that her sports bra was pressing into her torso a little. No enough to notice when she was wearing a top, but once she wasn’t it made a slight roll at the bottom. The easiest thing was to pull that quickly off too. Maybe he wouldn’t notice that her bra didn’t match her panties.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He said it reverentially almost like a prayer. Vinny blushed but felt a bit better about how this was going. “Come here?” He asked it like a question rather than stating it like an expectation.

When she did, he watched her face as he carefully cupped her breasts and ran his thumbs over her nipples. That was nice. She relaxed into his touch.

He leaned in and nuzzled her left side with his nose. When he opened his mouth, she was expecting to suck. In her experience, most men did like they were making up for missed breastfeeding opportunities. Derick licked, then swirled his tongue before gently dragging his teeth over in in a way that was not biting. It was still very nice. He kissed his way up her neck until he found her mouth again, before hooking his thumbs into her waistband.

Then he suddenly leaned back. “You are going to get cold.” He darted across the room and turned on the gas fireplace. Before laying out the futon and turning back to her. “It will warm up in a moment.”

She nodded and went to sit on the now bed. “Blankets?”

Derick nodded, slowly. “I would like to see you,” he suggested as he pulled open a wardrobe.

Vinny wasn’t entirely sure about that, so she deflected by taking the blanket and spreading it over the bed. When she turned around he was holding a second one.

Nodding to her sweats he smirked, “Let’s get you out of those wet things.”

Vinny gaped at him then snorted as she pulled down her pants and panties. He was right, she was soaked. When she looked up, he was watching her. She blushed a little and came over to where he was laying on the bed.

She tugged at his jeans, “Your turn.”

He caught her hands and brought them to his shoulders before ghosting his down her sides and sliding one between her legs. He used a finger to part her lips and gather some moisture. He brought his fingers to his lips and gave it suck. “You are delicious Vinny. How about I lean back and you can ride my face for a while?”

Vinny blinked. “I haven’t done that before.”

“I’ll help.” Derick lay back on the bed so that his feet were still on the floor and there was room for Vinny around his head. “Come sit on my chest.”

Vinny hesitated, “I’m not exactly light.”

Derick grinned, “I’m looking forward to that. I’m not exactly breakable.” He tugged on her hand and she climbed awkwardly into place. “You don’t have to do this, but it’s like having someone go down on you, except that you are in control of where they work.”

Vinny climbed awkwardly over him on her hands and knees. She put one foot near his shoulder and tried to sort of lower herself onto his face.

“Can I help?” he asked.

Vinny nodded.

Derrick put one hand on her ass and repositioned her leg so that her knee was near his ear, then switched sides and did the same with her other leg. Then his hands went to the tops of her thighs and he pulled her firmly against his mouth. This time it was a long lick that parted her lips. Vinny gasped and pulled away.

He let her. “Need me to stop?”

Vinny shook her head. Now it was on her to put herself back. She put her hands in front of her knees and leaned back into place. He licked her lips with a loud slurp before finding her clit and sucking hard. If he hadn’t been holding her thighs she would have pulled back again. He was right,in theory, it wasn’t any different than having someone go down on her. She suspected her previous partners hadn’t been as good at it as Derick was.

She trembled as he unerringly found the right spot and stayed there. Vinny realized she was rocking without having been aware she was doing it. He eased her forward a little and slipped his tongue inside. Hie tongue was longer than she was expecting, but that wasn’t where she wanted him. She rocked forward again. Derick took her hand and moved it to his head. Vinny accidentally gave his hair a tug, then did it again when he moaned his approval. Her thighs started shaking as the sensations threatened to over take her. Derick took a tighter hold on her thighs and just kept going as her body bucked and Vinny pressed her lips tight to avoid the gasps that wanted out.

The second wave of pleasure was only moments behind the first and this time he slowed as she came. He eased her back to his chest.

“That was nice,” he almost purred.

Vinny nodded, silently. The relief was so good she felt like crying. Derick must have noticed something, because he pulled her down his body and rolled them on to their sides. “Are you ok?”

Vinny gasped and nodded, then as she blinked the tears fell.

Derick looked worried, “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No! That was perfect and you are perfect and I’m just a little emotional right now.”

Derick hugged her tight and rubbed her back. “You really needed that, huh.”

Vinny nodded.

“You don’t have to try to be quiet for me, just so you know.”

Vinny snorted, “Too many years of living in Ma’s house. I’m not really sure I want the guys in the TV room next door hearing either.”

“That’s fair. The TV room is pretty sound proof if it helps.”

Vinny nodded and wiped her cheeks. She was appalled to find her mascara had run.

“I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” Derick said right before he jumped up and bounded out of the room.

Vinny rolled over, cocooning herself in his blanket.

Read more (and see the pictures) here.

#werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #exophilia #terato

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dhominis · 5 years

Text

Complaining about me having Food Issues. This is vaguely whiny and has way too many details and wow I’m gonna regret posting it!

Also, caveat: this is a vent post, but pretty much everything in my life is amazingly good right now and I am so lucky. Not representative of my broader brainstate.

Advice welcomed. “This part sounds stupid and distorted-thinking-y” especially welcomed.

CW: If there’s anything health or food/weight-related you want to avoid you should probably not open the readmore; the post consists mostly of detailed discussion of Things That Look Like An Eating Disorder.

The last half of 2018 was bad for me; it culminated in me dropping out of college and finally moving away from my parents (like, half a continent away), and things are weirdly better now. I am happy and healthy-adjacent and resolving Personal Problems that have been insoluble for most of my life.

(The home environment was not conducive to proper emotional development.)

Almost every part of it has been strangely easy. Getting an apartment, getting a job, managing money, catching up on the Normal Young Adult social skills. It feels like I’ve just got more cognitive resources to devote to life, now.

...The only thing that hasn’t become easy is food.

I don’t get hungry often enough, and when I do experience hunger, it doesn’t motivate me to eat (I’ve been describing this as essentially pain asymbolia but for hunger). I also just don’t enjoy eating -- intellectually I can recognize when food tastes good, but it’s still unpleasant to eat it. (Not an anhedonia thing! Other pleasant stimuli are far more enjoyable than they were a few months ago and life is amazing.)

There also are a lot of gastrointestinal symptoms -- nausea and pain, et cetera. They have been present at a low level for a while but worsen when I don’t maintain a relatively stable caloric intake. (I can’t eat because I am in pain! I am justified in not eating! Never mind that eating causes significant pain specifically because I haven’t eaten in a few days.)

Inflammatory and celiac markers are normal, IBS could explain part of it but not really the upper GI tract symptoms. It is maybe plausible that this is an autonomic thing? I already have a lot of autonomic dysfunction things and sometimes people with my connective tissue problems have weird gut motility. (Incomplete listing of symptoms I get that are plausibly gut-dysmotility-related: passive regurgitation and GERD and cramping and diarrhea and upper GI pain and vomiting and postprandial nausea/fullness and occasional difficulty swallowing and other things I am forgetting about right now.)

It also is plausible that at least some of this is psychosomatic -- stress sometimes seems to make it worse -- but the broader cluster hasn’t always coincided with periods of emotional stress. The first time the symptoms interfered with my ability to eat was during one of the happiest and most low-stress parts of my life, and it definitely preceded the Food Doesn’t Feel Good problem. (And autonomic dysfunction worsens with stress too.) Although it maybe helped condition me not to want to eat, since eating causes a grab-bag of annoying symptoms.

(the most accurate diagnosis probably is “neurotic-intellectual with-ill-defined-GI-problems syndrome”)

Having food in my stomach feels bad and wrong in a way that is not about the physical pain. (Meal replacement shakes and protein powders mostly fix this but are not financially feasible, are often incredibly low-calorie, and also if I’m mostly doing liquid calories I get worse physical symptoms when I do solid food.)

The maladaptive food behaviors have been present on and off for most of my life, and the GI symptoms have been a thing since like... early 2018?, but last semester was the first time I’d consistently gone for months with an energy deficit; I’ve had a lifelong tendency to not do well with eating but never to this extent. But this was -- there were some weeks when I ate maybe four meals, some two- or three-day periods when I didn’t eat.

Predictably I lost weight. (Weight loss is not good! I like having energy stores and muscle mass and also being able to sit on the floor without my ass hurting.) I lost enough weight that my doctor got really worried; I was not overweight and am edging down towards the lower end of the reasonable range. She was definitely worried in the context of physical symptoms, but I suspect that if I had presented the cause of the weight loss slightly differently, she would have been worried about the psych component. It’s stupid too. I do not want to lose weight! I want to have enough energy to do shit without dipping into fat stores!

Also last semester: vomiting. The postprandial nausea occasionally has been bad enough that it makes me vomit. (I have a supply of ondansetron and this is no longer an issue.) More frequently the postprandial nausea is bad enough that I can’t tolerate it, it’s a constant reminder that there is food where it should not be, and I induce vomiting. I haven’t done this since I moved out, but I have really really wanted to. Ondansetron helps here too but not completely. Or I don’t have nausea, but there is food in my stomach and this feels really unpleasant and, well, there’s one thing that’ll fix it right away (plus give me a nice adrenaline rush).

Solutions: ondansetron; don’t go to the bathroom for a while after I eat; if eating at home, try to do meals when my roommates are home so I can’t vomit because they’d hear it; distract myself until I don’t feel horribly full.

(Which takes a while, sometimes. Maybe too long. I have vomited basically undigested food a few hours after a meal. Not sure whether that’s abnormal, and if it is it’s really plausible that I did this to myself by not eating enough. Gastric emptying is not my strong suit?)

...Going days without eating because I just don’t want to. Weight loss. Defective hunger response. Being exhausted and not having the energy to eat. Hiding this from people, too; I had told people about the physical symptoms but not the fundamental aversion to eating, not the going days without eating. Conscious displays: mixing coconut cream into tea, here, I am eating, this is eating, I am making an effort, it is not my fault. And a refusal to reduce physical activity. I generally ate only dinner, if that, but still spent my breaks between classes pacing around campus. Even though I knew I shouldn’t. (Sometimes I justified this as an attempt to maintain muscle mass. That is patently stupid and honestly I could have just done some squats if that was my real goal. I didn’t have a real goal. The closest thing I had to a goal was -- keep moving.)

This guide from a SSC reader convinced me to treat my eating problems like a thing that is actually bad, not like “oh my stomach hurts if I eat so I’ll just not do that.” (Also took it more seriously after I started having difficulty resisting the urge to vomit.) But, uh. It’s scarily familiar. I am trying really hard to eat enough.

I’d hoped that getting out of the supremely stressful situation would help with the eating problems. To some extent it has -- I’ve been able to force myself to eat every day, there’ve been only one or two days per week where I’ve skipped one meal, I haven’t vomited since I left. As of three weeks ago I hadn’t had substantial further weight loss. Eating still is difficult to an extent that I can’t really understand, and it’s difficult when nothing else is. Finding an apartment was easy. Getting a job was easy. Work has been fun and easy and amazing. But pretty much every meal has been a struggle, I’ve been having to force-feed myself, I’ve felt more distress about putting food in my body than about anything else since I left home.

If it doesn’t settle down soon it’ll be pretty tiring. I am concerned that this level of effort is not sustainable.

And... I need to buy a scale. (Spending money is not a skill I have. I don’t like it and I don’t want to do it. Even on food and transportation. So I pretty regularly walk several miles instead of taking the damn bus, and if I forget to bring lunch I just won’t eat at work.) I suspect that I’ve started losing weight again, in large part because my physical activity is way up and I am really busy. Also I underestimate how many calories I need. I am young and physically active and hormonally male and it’s not reasonable to expect e.g. three 500-kcal meals and a snack to let me maintain weight, let alone gain it. It feels like I am eating so much and this probably isn’t true.

(Tracking caloric intake has historically been a bad idea, because my brain doesn’t do effortful things well, and there’s an observer effect: if I have to expend the necessary effort to write down what I ate, I will probably just not eat the thing so I don’t have to expend the effort. This was true even back when I liked eating.)

I don’t know. It might get better -- I’m putting a lot of effort into it but it’s reasonable that the eating problems aren’t resolving in the month and a half since I left home. Everything else has gotten substantially better and the food issues are only lagging by comparison. I am young and impatient. Also, I’ve gone from [regularly going days without eating, vomiting after I eat, losing a lot of weight really fast] to not doing any of that; this is a huge success and I am complaining about it not being completely solved within a month and a half!

In another month and a half I’ll have health insurance. If it hasn’t improved more by then, I’ll try to find a therapist. (Three months of having Significant Food Issues when not in a horribly stressful environment absolutely is enough to justify spending money on the copay.)

...I am worried it’ll get worse and I won’t notice or I’ll try to hide it. I am worried that it won’t get better and I’ll consider getting therapy and then not be able to stomach (pun intended!) the $20 copay, because even though I am financially secure enough for that not to be an issue, it’s twenty dollars and I don’t spend money on things. I am worried that it won’t get worse but it also won’t get better and I’ll have to spend the next several decades hating food and intensely wanting to vomit for like an hour after every meal.

(There are safeguards and I probably will not hide symptoms getting worse. I am pretty confident I can make myself find a therapist. I’ve had this problem for only six or seven months and most of that was under circumstances that extremely will not continue and I’ve gotten way better at handling it and it is way too early to be worried about this lasting indefinitely.)

Eh, I don’t know. I am handling it, I am taking steps to handle it. It sucks but I’m not concerned about my ability to handle and/or fix things that suck. Life’s awesome. Worst-case scenario is I just have to spend stupid amounts of money on meal-replacement drinks and get all my calories that way.

The best-case scenario, according to my brain: a doctor prescribes meal-replacement drinks and I get adequate nutrition and don’t have to eat solid food and also don’t have to pay for it. This would be really nice! I recognize that it’s not exactly great that I see this as the best-case scenario. A more reasonable best-case scenario: I figure out how to enjoy or at least not actively hate eating, and then I just do that like a normal person.

it’ll be fine even if it kind of sucks short-term

#cw eating disorder #cw disordered eating #cw vomiting #cw health problems #cw weight #cw me being neurotic #just heed the CWs; it's a vent post #personal #news from meatspace #original post #long post

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sassbringer · 5 years

Note

2, 3, 11, 17, and 18 for Ryn

Ryn Taloth, disaster extraordinaire, is a treasure of a warlock. Literally always a disaster in some way, they’re a villain waiting to happen, and an endearing dumpster fire at all times. I love them so much.

2. “What are your OC’s food preferences (flavors/textures/spiciness/calories/when and how they eat) and how did they get that way?”

Ryn tends towards savory meals, and they don’t particularly like sweet except for every now and then. The closest they’ll go to sweet on a normal basis is either fruit or sweeter wines. Spiciness is a neutral taste for them, neither disliking it or loving it really. They prefer herbs, garlic, butter, stuff like that. Rich and creamy. They tend to eat breakfast and dinner, but rarely lunch. Lunch is usually a casual drink or a tea/coffee, with a light snack. Texture wise, as long as it’s not chewy it’s fine. They can be… very pretentious with tastes, and their eating habits and tastes really just reflect years of working as a household servant while also coming from a wealthy family. Ryn never has a huge appetite, overall, eating should be enjoyed when it’s necessary to eat, but if Ryn could eat less often they would.

3. “What’s something pointless/petty/unimportant that IRRATIONALLY ANNOYS THE HELL out of your OC?”

That would be quite the list really. Ryn is way too overly annoyed when people don’t find aesthetics important, hates the sound of food being chewed (a lot, hates it so much and prefers eating in noisy environments because of that, so other sounds drown the chewing out), and probably the silliest is if the sleeves of their top are just a little too long or a little too short. They have to be the perfect length or it’ll drive them mad.

11. “What song is 100% guaranteed to get your OC beyond turnt and will be sung loudly and embarrassingly, either in public or in the shower?”

Almost anything by Rihanna if I’m honest. “BBHMM” and “Disturbia” being the easiest examples.

17. “How does your OC sabotage themselves?”

They sabotage themselves most often with apathy or trying to appear apathetic. Ryn hates seeming weak, so they try not to care about some things very often, and that bites them in the ass.

Another thing is they’ll sabotage themselves for the betterment/protection/love of their twin. As my DnD group is aware, Ryn will quite literally throw themselves off a city wall to get to Rin faster if they think Rin is hurt.

18. What’s the trashiest item in your OC’s wardrobe, when was the last time they wore it, and why do they still have it?

Ryn? Trashy? Never. The closest they get is one of those outfits a widow wears to the funeral of the husband that died under mysterious circumstances, and that shit is Couture, if a bit overly decadent. The last time they wore it would be the store, they’re saving it for the right occasion. Totally not the funeral of their rich, now dead husband or anything. Definitely not.

#Ryn #Ryn Taloth #dnd #ask things #pally rambles #long post

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fluidityandgiggles · 6 years

Text

The Plastics: Phase 2

(Phase 1 - part 1, part 2)

—————

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart!” Roman was looming over the sink, trying his best not to stare at his boyfriend.

His very much shirtless boyfriend.

Roman knew how much Virgil loved his 7-Eleven slurpees. (Part of him liked the fact that his boyfriend was a less-homicidal version of JD.) But sadly, so did Remy. So when Remy told Roman to throw Virgil’s slurpee at him... he couldn’t argue against that.

It was Remy, after all.

But he isn’t going to complain about his boyfriend being shirtless.

“It’s perfectly fine, it was just a slurpee.” Virgil gave Roman a smile that he would never be caught, dead or alive, giving to anyone. “Just... do you have a spare shirt?”

“Do you mind that it’s Wednesday?”

—

Having lunch with the Plastics was like leaving the real world and entering “Popular World”. And Popular World had a lot of rules.

“You can’t wear a tank top two days in a row,” Roman told me. “And we only wear track pants on Fridays.”

Well... let’s consider the issue with the statement. That day, both Remy and Roman were wearing jeans. Remy’s blue, and Roman’s white. Their shirts were pink, though.

And Emile... yeah. He was in a skirt.

“I mean, not just you. Like, any of us. Okay, like, if I was wearing track pants today, I would be sitting over there with the drama kids.” Emile started giggling. “You think this is a joke? Drama club is not a joke.”

“We know, Roman.”

“Oh, and we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us, because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group.” Understandable. “Well, I mean, you wouldn’t buy clothes without asking your friends first if they look good on you.”

“I wouldn’t?”

“Right. Oh, and it’s the same with guys.” I think this was when Roman’s leg started jumping. “Like, you may think you like someone, but you could be wrong.”

And then Roman looked at Virgil. Who was playing with a pair of aviators. Well... if I had to guess...

“A hundred and twenty calories, and forty-eight calories from fat...” So Remy could read labels. Nice. “What percent is that?”

“Forty-eight into one-twenty...?”

“I’m only eating foods with less than 30% calories from fat.”

“It’s 40%.” The confused looks I got from Remy and Roman were... weird. Let’s call them weird. “Well, 48 over 120 equals X over 100, and then you cross-multiply and get the value of X.”

“...whatever. I’m getting cheese fries.”

Sure, Remy. Sure.

As soon as Remy got away, though... Roman started talking. “So, have you seen any guys that you think are cute yet?”

“We’re all gay here,” Emile said. I think to himself. I hope to himself.

“Well...” Better be honest. “There’s this guy in my calculus class-”

“Who is it?”

“It’s a senior?” Yes, Roman. It’s a senior.

“His name’s Patton Graham.”

If I had to compare this moment to anything... it would probably be a bomb drop. Roman started a chorus of “no”s, with Emile joining in every now and again.

“Oh no, you can’t like Patton Graham!”

The literal angel descended from heaven to grace this world with his beauty and overall being? Sure. Why? Can you explain why, Roman? Huh? You wanna try an explanation, bitch?

“That’s Remy’s ex-boyfriend.”

Oh.

“They went out for a year.” Thankfully, this was said by Emile. Roman’s voice was starting to annoy me.

“Yeah.” And... we’re back. “And he was devastated when Patton broke up with him last summer.”

“I thought he dumped him for Ollie Hendricks.”

“Okay, irregardless. Ex-boyfriends are just off-limits to friends. I mean, that’s just, like... the rules of feminism. Or something.”

I swear I heard Virgil snort.

“Don’t worry. I’ll never tell Remy what you said. It’ll be our little secret.”

I seriously doubted it.

—

“We define the sum of the infinite geometric series...”

Even though I wasn’t allowed to like Patton, I was still allowed to look at him. And think about him. And talk to him.

“Hey, Pat-”

“Hey, you’re the Africa guy, right?” A guy (who, to be fair, looks like a top hat would just fit him perfectly, he’s just that kind of creepy) asked me. As I was going to talk to Patton.

Rude much?

“Yeah.”

“I’m Dorian Pechmann, captain of the North Shore Mathletes. We participate in math challenges against other high schools around the state, and we’re missing a member. You should think about joining.”

“Oh, you’d be perfect for it!” Our teacher - Ms. Torres - jumped in.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“Great, great. Let me give you my card!”

This guy has a card...?

‘Dorian Pechmann - Math Enthusiast/Bad-ass M.C.’

It even includes his phone number. Lovely.

“Okay, so... think it over. Cause we’d like to actually compete this year.”

Okay...

—

Patton actually almost talked to me later that day, if only Remy didn’t pull up near the football field and screamed “get in, loser, we’re going shopping!”

Remy is like the Barbie doll I never had. I’d never seen anybody so glamorous.

“So how do you like North Shore?” Emile asked me in the mall.

“It’s good. I think I’m joining the mathletes.”

And again with the booming chorus of no.

“You cannot do that,” Remy said. Incredibly harsh for a valley girl. “This is social suicide. Damn, you are so lucky you have us to guide you!”

And then Roman spaced out. And I could see why. Over in the shop we were passing...

There was Virgil.

I was starting to suspect more and more.

Being at Old Orchard Mall kind of reminded me of being home in Africa. By the watering hole. When the animals are in heat.

“Oh my god there’s Jason!”

“Where? ...oh, there he is.”

“And he’s with Taylor Wedell!”

Remember Jason? From the cafeteria? Yeah. The poor person he was now picking up...

Was a girl.

“I heard they’re going out.”

“Wait...” Remy’s smirk grew into a vicious smile. If we can call it that. “Jason’s not going out with Taylor. No. He cannot blow you off like that. He’s such a little skeez. Give me your phone.”

“You’re not gonna call him... right?”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“No.”

It took Remy exactly three seconds to dial up a number - how exactly? - and ask for “Wedell on South Boulevard.”

“Caller ID-”

“Not when you connect from Information.” And then, “Hello, may I please speak to Taylor Wedell?”

I swear his voice became more feminine when he said that.

“Oh, this is Susan from Planned Parenthood. I have her test results. If you could have her give me a call as soon as she can. It’s urgent. Thank you!”

And then, “she’s not going out with anyone.”

“Okay,” Roman said, finally smiling. “That was so fetch!”

It took just a couple seconds after that for Taylor Wedell to run away screaming.

—

Remy’s house was bigger than I have ever known a house to be. His step-mom was incredibly plastic-y, like a tv trophy wife or something, and his sister - oh god, his sister! His poor, sweet, innocent preteen sister - was watching MTV.

I honestly don’t think the content was entirely age appropriate.

His step-mom also offered us drinks that could have passed for alcoholic, which was even more worrying for a second.

But his room...

“It was my parents’ room,” Remy told me. “But I made them trade me.”

Bitch...

Even worse, bitch who flaunts around his ex-boyfriends. Like all the pictures of Patton he has hanging on his door.

“Logan, do you even know who sings this?” Remy asked me about the music that was playing on the radio.

“Umm... One Direction?”

“Oh my god, I love him! He’s like a Martian!”

Is that a... compliment...?

“God, my hips are huge!” Emile was checking himself out in the mirror... why?

Is that what friends do...? Gay people as a whole...? What?

“Oh please, I hate my calves.” Something about Roman’s tone sounded incredibly fake.

“At least you guys don’t have huge shoulders.”

I used to think there was just fat and skinny. Apparently, there’s a lot of things that can be wrong about your body.

And so, after listing about eleven hundred things that are wrong about their bodies, they turned to me. Expected me to talk.

Well... “I have really bad breath in the morning.”

“...ew.”

And then, “Oh my god, I remember this!” Emile was holding a pink album.

‘The Burn Book.’

“I haven’t looked at that in forever! Come check it out, Logan!”

“It’s our Burn Book,” Roman told me. “See, we cut out pictures of people from the yearbook, mostly girls, sometimes also guys, and then we wrote comments.”

“Trang Pak is a grotsky little bitch.” “Still true!”

“Dawn Schweitzer is a fat virgin.” “Still half true!”

“Amber d’Alessio masturbated with a hot dog.”

“Virgil Thompson,” Emile read out. “Stoner.”

Wait, what?

“Who is that?”

“I think it’s that kid Thomas,” Roman said. His voice still sounded... well, off.

“Yeah. He’s almost too gay to function.”

“Ha, that’s funny! Put that in there.”

Oh no. What have I done. Maybe that was only okay when Virgil said it.

—

“And they have this book, this Burn Book, where they write mean things about a lot of people in our grade.”

Virgil looked incredibly enthusiastic. Maybe a bit too much for the situation.

“What does it say about me?”

That you’re a stoner. “You’re not in it.”

“Those assholes.” He seemed to enjoy it far too much.

“Will this minimize my pores?” Thomas was holding a tube of... whatever cream that was.

“No. Logan, you gotta steal that book.”

“No way!”

“Oh, come on! We could publish it and then everybody would see what a dick he really is!”

“I don’t steal.”

“That is for your feet!” Virgil literally snatched the new cream from Thomas’ hands the second he brought it up. “Logan, there are two kinds of evil people. People who do evil stuff, and people who see evil stuff being done and don’t try to stop it.”

“Does that mean I’m morally obligated to burn that lady’s outfit?”

Thomas really shouldn’t have said that, probably.

“Oh my god, that’s Ms. Torres.”

“I love seeing teachers outside of school! It’s like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs!”

“Oh, hey, guys,” Ms. Torres called as she came to the counter. “What’s up? I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yeah, moderately priced soaps are my calling.”

“You shopping?”

“No, no. I’m just here with my boyfriend.” Yeah... literally the only other customer in the shop. “Joking. Sometimes older people make jokes.”

“My nana takes her wig off when she’s drunk.”

“Your nana and I have that in common,” she deadpanned. “No, actually I’m just here because I bartend a couple nights a week down at P.J. Calamity’s. Logan, I hope you do join Mathletes, you know. Because we start in a couple weeks.”

“I think I’m gonna do it.”

“Great!”

“You can’t join Mathletes, it’s social suicide!” Thomas rushed to say.

“Thanks, Thomas.” And then, “well... this has been sufficiently awkward. And I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Oh man, that is bleak,” Virgil sighed when Ms. Torres left. “So, when are you gonna see Remy again?”

“I can’t spy on him anymore. It’s weird.”

“Come on, he’s never gonna find out! It’s just... it’ll be like our little secret!”

Okay then...

—————

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