I haven’t seen a lot of media students on tumblr which saddens me a little bit but if there are some of you out there looking for a studyblr that includes media, here I am! These are some mind maps I used to help me study for my final GCSE exam, feel free to have a look!
And even more ICAD 2013 - “recycle or repurpose”, “paisley”, “city or map”, “calligraphy” (two cards), “sun”.
Wrote an excerpt from Atmosphere’s song “Always Coming Back Home to You” across the “city or map” card:
Mosey down the road, thinkin’ ‘bout the old I used to roam this zone through two feet of snow Right here - this used to be a record shop I’ve gotten love, I’ve gotten drunk, I’ve gotten beat up in this parking lot I’ve had my Lake Street pride for three decades These alleyways and these street lights have seen my best days
The second I agreed to get fatter with Justin, he created a gainer profile for me on all social media and mapped out a history of my weight gain. I knew I had gained around 35 pounds when I was living with Austin, but after I moved out my fat ass hadn’t once stepped on a scale. We discovered that between the time I moved out of Austin’s and when Justin and I became official, I had gained a little over 20 pounds. This was the first moment in my life when I took a step back and realized, “wow, I’ve gained over 50 pounds. I’m fat.” I could grab two meaty handfuls of belly fat. Even my butt was soft and dimpled now.
It wasn’t long before I had before and after photos of my gain posted, alongside videos of Justin shaking and slapping my gut online. I was shocked by how many followers I accrued in a short amount of time. I never had people admire my body to such a high degree, and I must admit- it was addicting.
Within three months of Justin introducing me to Grommr, I had gained 30 pounds. Realizing you’re fat is one thing, but with all that new weight on me I felt positively massive. My love handles bounced with every step, and threatened to make an appearance every time I moved my body. Stretch marks ran up and down my thighs which rubbed holes in all my underwear. Large shirts now clung to the fat rolls filling my lap. My stomach was getting in the way of just about everything. Lifting crates at work had become harder, bus seats were a struggle, and restaurant booths were starting to become my enemy. I documented all of this online, and my followers were salivating at their keyboards.
At first, my newfound flab was doing wonders for mine and Justin’s sex life. We would stuff each other silly before fucking, sometimes even incorporating food in the bedroom. Justin had gained some weight too, but I was the one that was really blowing up. We were both getting so fat that lovemaking became a logistical puzzle, often requiring me to lift my stomach to allow easy access to my cock.
Unfortunately, once I got plump enough for Justin’s taste, he turned his attention to a new muscled stud who was packing on the pounds. We had an open relationship, but Justin’s infatuation with this other man eventually drove us apart. Of course, I was upset about the break up. Although I did take it as an opportunity to comfort eat to my belly’s desire. Furthermore, I still had an internet presence. I had made friendships with many guys online, and frankly there was no shortage of chubby chasing men who wanted a taste of me in Seattle.
Working at the brewery became increasingly awkward after the break up, and eventually I found a new job at a grocery store. It paid well, but I was on my feet a lot. This was killer now that I was hefting almost 100 pounds of extra blubber around. However, the benefit of discount groceries was certainly good for my waistline.
I felt confident in my chubby body even after breaking up with Justin, and I didn’t want to give up on my newfound curves or fame. As I grew, so did my online following, and for a while this provided enough encouragement for me to forge ahead with getting fatter. I continued to hit the gym as well, and was becoming positively massive. I’d waddle from machine to machine with a crescent of underbelly wobbling out of the bottom of my shirt. I reveled in the stares I received from the fit and lean gym goers. I even had a couple of the employees suggest I try cardio once in awhile. I would always politely inform them: “I love food so much there’s no hope I’ll ever lose this belly.”
Eventually my weight did plateau. I had finally reached the point that I was almost always the “fat guy” in the room. I still wanted more, though. For two months my weight never fluctuated more than a few pounds. One day, I discovered a documentary about gaining on TV. I quickly opened my laptop to do some research and found something truly fantastic. Two gainers in Italy, Grasello and Nicoli, were opening their countryside estate to the public in an effort to start a literal “Fat Farm.” Admission was dependent upon an application which required a written weight gain history, future goals, and links to your social media presence. The Fat Farm guaranteed you would meet or exceed your goal weight or your money back. Plus, you got to lounge in a beautiful Italian mansion and eat gourmet food prepared by a chef whenever you wanted. It seemed like a gainer’s fantasy come to life, and it wasn’t that expensive. I immediately began filling out an application.