Whether you partake in the holiday or not, your goal today should be to EAT AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, DON'T HOLD BACK JUST EAT JUST CONSUME JUST GORGE TO SNACK JUST BINGE JUST STUFF JUST GLUT JUST KEEP EATING...
Whether you partake in the holiday or not, your goal today should be to EAT AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, DON'T HOLD BACK JUST EAT JUST CONSUME JUST GORGE TO SNACK JUST BINGE JUST STUFF JUST GLUT JUST KEEP EATING...
Nervous wolf fattening up his coyote BF so his meatier limbs, wider hips, thicker torso, and bloated muzzle make him look more like a wolf himself in preparation to meet the family, only to realize they're totally and completely accepting.
Oops, guess his BF is a chubbo now...
The nice thing about a Type A BF is that they're really organized and on top of things.
The bad thing is if they're a feeder they'll stop at nothing until you're a 750 lb wobbling ball of cellulite-riddled, useless blubber...
...actually no, that's still a good thing...
Reality altering your abs into a potbelly
Reality altering your pecs into flabby moobs
Reality altering your glutes into triple wide hips
Reality altering your quads into thunder thighs
Reality altering your jawline into 3x-chinned doughiness
You're meant to be fat
You're meant to be bulbous
You're meant to be heavy
You're meant to be sweaty
You're meant to be gargantuan
You're meant to be jiggly
You're meant to be pillowy mound of cellulite-riddled blubber, so keep eating until you achieve self-actualization...
Feeling the weighty sway of your triple-wide hips, the heavy slap of your apron-gut on your thighs, the bounce of your pillowy moobs against your belly, the wobble of your love handles, & the jostle of your thick, chipmunk cheeks as you waddle to the kitchen for another snack...
Not reading the clause in your contract at the bakery stating that you are REQUIRED to pack on 200 lbs to have exude the "jolly" aesthetic they require.
And if you don't, they'll take on that "job training" themselves, forcing you to eat cake batter until you're "in compliance".
The desire to be fattened up like livestock by your BF:
-Your "job" is to feed from a trough
-As your limbs bloat and become engorged, your BF taking your measurements like a prized hog prepping for the county fair
-Collar with a bell growing tight around your thickening neck
Feeling the bulk of your 600 lb frame literally weighing you down, that bulbous mass making your movements cumbersome & slow, the soft layers of adipose jostling & wobbling with discordant momentums that throw off your balance and coordination.
Man, you've gotten out of shape...
Your goal should be to make your favorite XXL baggy lounge shirt into a crop top that barely fits over your pillow-sized moobs and bean-bag chair of a gut...
With each pound you gain, your personal assistant AI, now with AccuracyBoost(TM) systematically going back through all your photos, social media posts, and bank statements to retroactively "correct the record" so you've always been a greedy, gluttonous wideload...
Pseudo-Rogue Ship AI systematically isolating each crew member, stuffing a feeding tube down their throat, and forcibly fattening them up until they tear through their "one size fits all" jumpsuits to prove a point that one size does not fit ALL THAT BLUBBER...
Implanting that "GREED" chip into your lithe coyote BF's skull and watching as they glut and gorge their way up to 500 lbs with a bloated muzzle, thickened limbs and wide, bottom heavy waist that makes them look more like an overfed wolf compared to their former unaltered self...
Knowing you shouldn't go back for 4ths at the buffet, that you already had downed 5000 cals, that you were perspiring from meat sweats, that your belt was already straining around your swollen middle, but one more round of ribs and mac and cheese would, *hic, hit the spot...
Reality altering 5 lbs onto your BF everyday, watching his twink frame fills out with rounded hips, abs puffing out into a paunch & skinny pecs swelling into a set of moobs.
You enjoy seeing the "changes" the rest of the world just accepts he's always been 150...250...350 lbs...
EAT MORE
GAIN MORE
GET BIGGER
GET FATTER
GET FLABBIER
MASS IS MORAL
GIRTH IS GODLY
GIVE INTO THE GAINER PROPAGANDA UNTIL YOU ARE HEAVY, SWEATY, AND IMMOBILE
Pledging to expand your horizons in the new year a little to close to your AI assistant, who takes the phrase literally, and begins a rigorous, meticulous, and calculated plan to make sure you fatten up 250 lbs by the time snow falls next winter...
Fox knowing that after he visits his bear BF's family for the holidays he's gonna come back 25-50 lbs heavier from all the honey laced goods, constant food pushing, and LARGE expectations for portions paired with a family rule of "clean your plate"...
>Saying nothing when you notice your BF baking on weight.
>Acting oblivious when their new paunch pokes out from their shirts.
>Being naive when they get winded walking up stairs.
>Playing dumb when can't see the scale anymore.
Gaslighting them into eating and gaining more.
Bakery with body weight-exclusive goods: the TRULY decadent, gut busting morsels.
Unless you're 550 lbs, stretching an XXL shirt & wheezing just from going up to the counter, you don't get to buy the 5-layer brownie tarts, the sugar-saturated cookie melts, or choco-dog rolls...
"Accidentally" leaving the remote to the feeding tube out of reach.
"Accidentally" putting trace amounts of melatonin in the lard slurry to put you into a food coma while you continue to be stuffed with lard.
"Accidentally" waking up 3 days later and 400 lbs heavier...
Deciding NOT to fix the glitch in your AI assistant at work as they constantly push more and more snacks and luxurious food on you, forcing you to indulge and plump out into the corporate fat cat physique that a business titan like you should have had a long time ago...
Sick of being put on patrol duty, Nick Wilde intentionally gorges on break room donuts and whole-milk laced coffee at the station until his 550 lbs and too fat to run anymore, relegating him to desk duty and even closer to his fattening temptations...
When all of your friends decide you would look better as a 600 lb flabby behemoth rather than your lithe 120 lb self, so they set about systematically addicting you to fast food, sneaking gainer powder into your meals & directly stuffing your maw until you're too fat to move...
Wheezing as you slowly waddle down the hall, sweat dripping from your brow and legs barely moving more than a shuffle to lug your 850 lb frame from bedroom to the kitchen where you're BF has been preparing yet another gut busting 15k cal breakfast to keep you growing ever bigger.
Encourage your BF to eat more. Encourage him to overindulge. Encourage him to keep eating even when he is full. Encourage him to let you stuff food into his maw if he won't do it himself. Encourage him to let you install a feeder hose into his maw so he'll ALWAYS be consuming.
Slowing your cheetah friends' down by pushing fast food on them.
Stop your bunny buds' from hopping by addicting them to cakes and sweets.
Obliterating your lithe antelope companions' physiques by putting feeding hoses in their maws when they sleep.
Let your BF turn you into a fat slob. Let them stuff you with burgers and cake until your lithe frame is consumed by sweaty fat folds and bulbous, encumbering blubber. Let them train you to habitual belch and sweat. Let them enable you to be a lazy couch potato.
New manager at the restaurant that encourages employees to eat on the job, encourages employees to take food home with them, encourages employees to over-serve customers with extra patties and "free" nuggets.
New manager that wants to see EVERYONE balloon up to 500 lbs...