fat man dancing

Watch on chubstr.tumblr.com

This right here is how you celebrate!

Workouts - Abs

So I said I was going to rest for a couple of days but decided to do my abs and have my own little dance party.


- 60 reps, no hold
- 75 reps, 15s hold every 15 reps
- 3 sets of 100 reps, no hold

Leg Raises
- 40 reps

- 54s

Bicycle Crunches
- 1 set of 25 reps

Side Crunches
- 1 set of 25 reps each side


- 20min Dance Party

Poetry for when you feel too big to feel beautiful

Fat Poem - Victory

10 Honest Thoughts About Being Loved By A Skinny boy - Rachel Wiley

The Body Is Not An Apology - Sonya Renee

Fat Bottomed Girls - Kim Selling

Fat Girl Blues - Maya Osborne

Big Girl Poem - Vuyelwa Maluleke

Pro Ana - Sierra DeMulder

Anorexia - Janani

Fat Guy - David Silverberg

Fat Man Dancing - Jared Singer

To This Day - Shane Koyczan

Fat - FabulouslyFeminist

Fat Nerd Manifesto - Daniel Mark Patterson


Bullies tried to crush his spirit, but Dancing Man will not be stopped.

It all started when Free Thought Project writer Cassandra Fairbanks encountered a post from notorious Internet troll-hole 4chan, in which an anonymous user reported he had body-shamed a heavyset man into ceasing his dance moves by laughing at him.

The post was originally uploaded to photo-sharing website Imgur by a user named FrozenBadget, who commented “I find this behavior f*cking despicable. If you’re out there big man, f*ck those kids. Keep dancing.” One top-rated commenter added that “The second picture breaks my heart. He looks so f*cking defeated. Piece of shit kids.”

Fairbanks decided to find the man in the photos so that a “huge group of ladies” could do something special for him. The #DancingMan hashtag was born, and Fairbanks’ followers helped take up the hunt.

Well, he’s been found and Fairbanks (plus 1,727 other women and some celebrities) have an awesome plan in place.


Haters gonna hate.


Jared Singer- Fat Man Dancing

Friday January 25th 2013 

Watch on mazenat.tumblr.com

Now that’s the spirit

The message inside reads “For You Only Everything”. At the request of @lynnialljohnson for your birthday my darling! I hope you have a wonderful day! Sorry for the delay. Work got busy and I didn’t have time to finish it until now.

The party was actually going well, I thought. Everyone was socializing well and I was pleased with the result. I made sure I made it around to everyone, offering my polite greetings and accepting praise for such a splendid party. Louise was thrilled to have another gathering to attend.

I had no idea where Jamie was. Probably speaking with the men, trying to stop the Jacobite rebellion in its infancy. It was putting a strain on us both, but we knew how much was on the line.

“Madam Fraser!” came a deep, rich voice.

I turned and reapplied my most welcoming smile until I saw who had spoken to me. He was a rather portly man and had been flirting with me all night. Louise found it hysterical, of course.

“Hello,” I said. “I hope you’re enjoying the evening?”

“Oh, yes, yes of course. Might I steal you for a dance?”

I wanted nothing more than to tell him to piss off, to go upstairs to my room and take off these shoes, but that was not what a good hostess did.

“I’m sorry,” I said sweetly. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Surely your duties will allow for one dance!”

Before I could protest, he took me by the hand and dragged me out onto the dance floor. I caught a brief glance at Jamie as I stumbled along. He gave me a strange look, one of shock at first. When he saw who it was that was dancing with me, I saw his blue eyes flash with dislike.

The portly man stepped on my feet nearly every step he took. And his hands wandered. More than once I forced his hands away from my backside. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about him staring down the front of my gown. Perhaps Jamie had been right about having a bigger fan… 

 Finally, the song came to an end and I made an excuse to get away from the man. One thing I disliked about hosting these French parties was the fact that I couldn’t slip away and go home early. This *was* my home. I also hated being kept so far from Jamie for so long. Ever since I’d ransomed his soul and helped him find himself again after Wentworth, we were nearly inseparable. But we both had jobs to do, and that required a certain amount of time apart. 

Some time after midnight, people started filtering to their own homes. I bid everyone farewell and thanked them for coming. Louise insisted that I come to her house the following day for a late lunch so that we could discuss the gossip we’d heard.

Jamie wasn’t anywhere to be seen by the time the last person left. That was odd, I thought. He almost always waited to escort me upstairs to our room.


“Yes, madame?”

“Where is my husband?”

“Oh, he is already upstairs, my lady.”

“Has he? Alright. Thank you. Will you make sure everything is locked up for the night?”

“Of course, my lady. Good night.”

“Good night.”

I lumbered up the stairs, cursing my choice in footwear, and found Jamie pacing. Angrily.


“I told ye that was a poor choice of dress to wear, Sassenach.”

“By the time the party started,” I said, sitting with a hefty sigh. “It was too late to change into anything else.”

“Wi’ that wee buggar staring down to your navel!” he bellowed, clearly not realizing I’d spoken back to him.

“I noticed that you didn’t cut in or have him escorted out!" 

He turned on me then, his shirt untied enough for me to see the copper hairs on his chest. 

"So ye say it’s my fault he was staring at ye?" 

"It’s no ones fault! I didn’t want to dance with him but he didn’t give me much of a choice." 

I refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I’d wanted a larger fan. 

 "I didna like him dancing wi’ you. Touching you that way." 

"So I can see." 

He yanked angrily at his belts and untied his cuffs. If I knew him half as well as I thought I did, he was most mightily aroused by now. 

"You are mine, Claire. Ye belong to me and me alone." 

"I think we’ve established that." 

"No man, no matter his position in society, can handle ye that way. No one. Save me." 

I watched him, his eyes dark with lust and anger, as he came closer to me. I wanted to be helped out of my gown, but if I let him at it right now he was like to use his teeth. This dress had been too expensive to destroy so quickly.

"Will you help me out of this first? Before you remind me to whom I belong?" 

"I’ve a mind to take ye where ye stand, Sassenach.”

“You will not,” I said firmly. “Help me out of this first. Then you can do what you like." 

After making a Scottish sound of impatience and derision, he began to untie the back of my gown. The looser it got, the better I felt. Blood was rushing back into my feet as well, making me almost lightheaded. Jamie was working quickly, but carefully, to extract me from the dress and it’s various pieces. When I was finally free of all of it, he spun me to face him and kissed me.

We’d kissed more times than I could count. No two were exactly the same, of course, but I’d gotten used to the way his mouth worked. This one stole my breath from my lungs, making me pull myself closer to him in an attempt to steal it back. His fingers were gripping my hair and tugging on it, making my scalp tingle. My arms were around his neck, delighted as always to have him back and whole. 

He picked me up and carried me to our bed like I weighed nothing. I’d never been a small woman, and I knew I was a little heavier with the growing child inside me, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. It was clear that all he wanted was to claim me over and over.

“Mine,” he growled as he pushed my legs apart. “You. Are. Mine.”

Before I’d caught my breath enough to reply to him, his mouth sealed down again and I felt him teasing me. Oh God, it was going to be one of those nights.

I moaned against his mouth, pleading for him to get started already, but he refused me. Instead, his hands slid slowly up my sides to my chest, where he pinched and rolled my sensitive nipples until I was shaking.

“Could he rouse ye this way,” Jamie breathed, staring down at me.


“The fat man dancing wi’ ye. Could he have done this?”

“Certainly not!” I said, appalled. “Like I’d have given him the chance!”

“That’s good, my Sassenach. I wouldna ha’ liked to kill a man today.”

I glared up at him, letting my fingernails trail over the scars on his back. I felt the gooseflesh rise at my attentions and he shuddered.

“You might not like to have killed a man, but you certainly like to torment your wife, don’t you?”

“Oh, aye. Ye ken ye make the best noises when I get ye frustrated.”

“Why must you always work to elicit the worst noises from me?”

He smiled and let the full weight of his massive frame lay against me.

“Because, mo nighean donn,” he whispered, licking the bottom of my ear. “It means I’ve served ye well.”

“Or that you’ve tortured me half to death.”

“Perhaps then I can bring ye back to life,” he grumbled, pushing slowly into me.

For the brief moment when we both sighed in pleasure at our connection, he almost looked conflicted. But I knew him. He might struggle with the prospect of hard or soft, but he’d been jealous and mad with lust not fifteen minutes before. He needed it hard and rough.

“Have you forgotten how this works?” I asked sweetly as he stared down at me.

“What? Och, no. A’course not.”

“Then what’s the delay?”

“I canna decide which way to proceed, is all.”

I smiled. 

“You mean to tell me you can’t decide what to do? After a whole night watching another man flirt with me, oggle at me, and stare down my dress? You really can’t decide?”

That did it. His eyes flashed again and I knew I’d be a little sore in the morning.

“Right,” he said, picking up a steady rhythm. “I thank ye for reminding me how cross I was wi’ ye.”

“My… oooh God… My pleasure.”

He laughed heartily, which turned quickly into a growl as he thrust harder against me. Both of his hands were flat on the mattress on either side of my head. It gave me a delightful view of him and of us, together in the most intimate of ways, becoming one flesh.

Mine,” he growled in Gaelic, biting my ear and making me gasp. 

“Yes!” I wheezed, raking his back from his neck down to his buttocks.

His Gaelic was becoming harder to understand as he lost himself in our lovemaking. I was quite lost in it myself, enjoying the riot of sensation he always filled me with. Most of all, I loved his jealousy. There were times I thought it a little ridiculous that he was quite so jealous, but ultimately it showed me just how much he loved me. For surely you could not be jealous over someone you did not care about.

“Holy God,” he howled as his body began to shake. “Oh sweet Jesus.”

I smiled. Whenever he spoke like that, I knew he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself. It meant that I had served him well.

“Are ye alright, Sassenach?” he asked a few minutes later as he held me to his chest.

“Oh, I’m quite alright. Though I’m afraid my gown will be wrinkled.”

“That bloody thing can go rot.”

“Don’t say that! You liked it!”

“A’course I did! I’m your husband!”

I giggled and pulled his arm tighter around me. His free hand went to settle over my abdomen, as it always did before we slept.

“Oh! I almost forgot. I have something for ye, Sassenach.”


“A wee gift.”

Before I could as for more details, he got out of the bed and began rifling through the pile of clothes on the floor. Then he dug through his sporran until he came out with a small parcel wrapped in parchment.

“Jamie! What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

He sat down on the bed, watching me with the expectant look of a child who’s just given his mother a weed as a flower, waiting for her approval.

I unwrapped the parchment and a beautiful ring fell into my hands. It wasn’t overly large, but very elegant. Two small rubies sat on either side of a larger piece that I couldn’t quite describe.

“Oh Jamie! We can’t afford this! Wherever did you buy this?”

“I didna buy it. I won it in a chess game wi’ Durvernay.”

“In a chess game?! Who bets on a chess game?!”

“A man determined to win. But I’m better at it than he is. Open the middle bit.”

I wedged a fingernail in the groove around the center oval shape and it popped open. Another, smaller, ruby was in the center of this too, but it was the inscription on the lid that brought tears to my eyes. 

“For you only everything,” I read aloud, touching it gently. “Jamie…”

“Do ye like it?”

“I love it. It’s beautiful.”

I slipped it onto the middle finger of my right hand where it sat beside the silver ring he’d given me after we’d married. Two symbols of his love for me, as beautiful as they were strong.

His proud smile grew even brighter and he launched himself at me, pinning me to the bed as he gave me frantic kisses.

“I wasna sure you’d like it. Ye dinna do much wi’ jewels and such.”

“I love it,” I said honestly. “I really do.”

“Good. Just remember that next time some wee fool is making a grab for your arse,” he said, doing just that.

I smiled and settled in to sleep, unable to take my eyes from the golden ring on my right hand.