Undertaker33
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Orihime's Diet Journal: 1st Entry
🕑 Added 2021-10-29 06:18:28 +0000 UTCHi! (✿^^)/
Ugh… that feels so silly. But I really don’t know how to start this! I’ve been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes with my tummy pressed up to the desk, and it’s honestly making me a little irritated. (＞。<) I know I’m not supposed to delete anything either, but that’s such a weak opening!
Let me try again…
Good evening.
… Uggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
You’re not sending a letter!! You’re supposed to be using this as a personal journal, why does it feel like there’s so much pressure?!
Well, that’s a dumb question. You already know why. Cause your big fat butt is squishing out over the bottom of your old desk chair, and you’ve got a pair of armrests wedged into your love handles… Ugh. Love handles.
I have love handles. o(>_<)o
Seeing it typed out is so much worse, gosh. It’s almost like looking into the mirror, but worse, because I keep seeing that phrase and it makes me wanna ｡･ﾟﾟ*(oдo)*ﾟﾟ･｡
It’d be so much easier if I could just… start, you know? Actually, that’s kind of a good idea. Maybe I should just start at the start!
My name is Orihime Inoue. I am twenty years old.
It’s… weird, honestly. Being twenty. You spend so much time as a teenager that you sort of start to feel like it’ll never end. You’ll always just be that girl next door, living life one day to the next.
Then again, it’s weird being overweight. (づ￣ ³￣)づ
Hmm… I don’t think that’s quite accurate. Not anymore at least. This morning, I was overweight. Now?
Gah. It’s so weird to type!! I want to get up and stretch and just walk around, but I’m afraid that if I don’t talk about it, then I’m just going to… I don’t know. Bottle it up? I’ve certainly got enough space in my big jelly belly.
I can feel myself on my thighs. My thighs!! Which have become a natural disaster all their own at this point…
Sorry. I keep skipping ahead when I really should just… wait, why am I saying sorry? I’m the only person who’s ever supposed to read this… right?
Ichigo, I swear, if you’re reading this, I’ll… sit on you! Or something!
Oh my God, that really is the worst threat that I can imagine now (┳Д┳)
How much worse can it get?
…
My stomach just growled. Why did I even ask that?!?!
I’m not getting up! My booty is practically wedged in this chair, and I’m finishing typing all of this out! No snacks! You’ve clearly already had enough, your belly is pushing over onto your thighs, Orihime!!
I just wish my robe fit. I’m so self-conscious right now, since it’s barely able to reach over my boobs and cover my…
This laptop has a webcam.
It’s not on, but I’ve heard of… dammit, okay, hang on.
I’m back. I got a piece of scotch tape and put it over the camera, just in case.
I also grabbed a packet of potato chips out of the pantry, and two bottles of ramune. I would have only grabbed one, had my darned tummy not been grumbling while I plodded through the kitchen.
Ichigo’s resting, but I’m sure he’s awake. I could practically feel him watching me as I came back to the room. I probably could have heard him move were it not for my weight stomping as I waddled to and from the kitchen, snacks in hand. This is just so unfair…
Okay. So, tape’s on, chip bag is open, and I just pushed in the top off of my ramune bottle. Time to start writing for my new diet journal.
******************************************************************************
Today is Saturday, in the fourth week of October. It’s only a few more days until Halloween, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wake up excited.
Our bed isn’t exactly impressive. We share a… Hold on, I’ve to back up a little bit more.
Okay. So. Our.
Ichigo Kurosaki and I moved in with each other just over six months ago, back in April right around Easter. We have our own little apartment that’s just down the street from our university, which we were able to get because his dad knows the building’s owner.
A part of me wishes I still had the same accommodations as my old house, because it was a much longer walk to-and-from university, and I might not be in this mess if I’d just done some more walking. Cardio is supposed to be good for the soul.
But I’ve found that bacon is a wonderful substitute.
When I woke up, the pleasant chill of the autumn air was still lazily drifting into our bedroom window. I remember stirring, reaching a hand out over to his side of the bed, and was disappointed when I didn’t feel him there.
Only a little bit though, because then I remembered it was Saturday, and that meant he was probably already working on breakfast.
I got out of bed and went to our dresser and the mirror to look myself over.
I looked like such a sleepy dork. My hair comes down to my thighs now that I’ve spent the last few years growing it out. I’d made a promise to my brother years and years ago, and I think having such long hair has been a pretty good showing of how peaceful things have been in Karakura Town.
Which… I should also probably explain now that I think about it…
Okay, so, you know when you’re a teenager, you sort of feel like every day might be the most important day of your life? Any action you take, it’s like it could have this giant snowball effect, and suddenly everything’s the best it has ever been or the worst it could ever be?
Well, a lot of ours actually were the most important days of our lives.
Ichigo and I… I guess the easiest explanation really is that magic is sort of real? Spirits, ghosts, the worlds-after-death. I know for a fact that Hell is real, which means Heaven must be real as well, and that I should probably spend more time bothering Ichigo about us going to church.
I haven’t seen heaven, and I don’t really think Ichigo has either, but he always calls me his beautiful angel and… I don’t know. It feels like that has a lot more meaning now that we know it’s all sort of true.
When we were teenagers (I think around maybe fifteen?), Ichigo became a Shinigami. A Soul Reaper, which is the spiritual manifestation of a powerful soul whose job it was to help people cross over. He got this big, huge sword that the Shinigami use to fight off the bad souls, called hollows, and which they use to send them to Hell while exorcising the good souls and sending them along on their way. A lot of the souls end up in a place called the Soul Society, but there’s just too much there to talk about right now.
Well, after Ichigo started performing duties, it turns out that the bad souls really didn’t like that. They were almost responding to him manifesting, and worse and worse souls started coming here from all over Japan. Another friend of ours, Ishda Uryū, thinks that the hollows were trying to catch him as a potent soul, not thinking that a Shinigami would ever actually livein the World of the Living.
Which, I mean, they were also kind of right? Technically, Ichigo was only a substitute… really, there’s just too much to talk about here! And I really don’t think a diet journal is really the place.
Maybe I should write all of this down in another journal, though. Something to pass on to our daughters when we’re able to settle down and start our family.
Goodness, listen to me. I already sound like I’m his wife. Easy, girl. He’s gotta propose before I can start thinking about our three daughters and two boys living in our soft suburban home.
… Okay, so I’ve thought about it a little already (✿─‿─)
Oh, God… I hope that I look a little better than this. Or at least own a robe that fits…
No way! I’m gonna power through this diet, lose this weight, and then I’ll be slim and trim and… ugh… my tummy gurgled and I felt myself staring at my chips.
This is so not off to a great start.
Okay. I’ve had a few nibbles, and can chew as I type. It’s kinda shocking how much flavor these chips have though, almost like being fat made them tastier somehow? I really like the flavoring, and wouldn’t mind keeping that around. Just gotta lose this belly.
Anyways, so Ichigo became a Substitute Soul Reaper, and I became a… uhhh… advanced… human? Like, I could see spirits and stuff, and I learned how to do magic.
… That sounds so stupid when I say it like that ٭(•﹏•)٭ but it’s true!
Our friends, Chad and Uryū, also developed some powers of their own, and together we formed an unstoppable team of hollow buttkickers that would protect our town!
I even had to fight on my own a few times! It was really scary, but people were relying on me, and I won a lot more than I lost!!
But, when I did lose, I always had Ichigo there to catch me. He’s always taken care of me, even before all of this started… I love him. A lot.
Ichigo means the world to me. He’s been by my side through everything. My brother passed away when I was in fourth grade, and while I had a few people helping me, my teenage years practically were intertwined with Ichigo’s. It only made sense that this would happen. That I’d fall in love with the most wonderful guy.
I’m just lucky enough that, in the end, he felt the same.
Gosh, I really am just gushing.
Ichigo’s only a bit older than myself, but he’s way, way taller. I’m only five-two, but he’s nearly six feet tall!
… Oh, God. I just thought about how much heavier I must be than him. ( >︹<) Somebody, please, shoot me.
Gaaaaaaaaah! Stop getting off track!!! You used to be thin, you got yourself fat! We got it, gosh!!!
But it’s important stuff! I used to be able to fight real monsters! Big, huge, meanie spirits and there were other Soul Reapers and then there were Arrancar and… okay, I kinda see what I mean. It’s just too much!
Besides, I haven’t fought anything in the last three years.
I think a particularly determined chipmunk would get the better of me now…
It’s been a long time since anyone’s tried to kill me, or my Ichigo. Not counting our calculus teacher, of course.
There are no more death cults. No spiritual interruptions, no more sword fighting. We still see spirits, and Ichigo’s found a couple of hollows, but it all seems so… quaint, compared to how things once were.
This all adds up to mean that, when I woke up this morning, I was already… soft. Chubby, bouncy.
Fat.
I don’t remember the last time I had to jog anywhere, much less sprint. I read in a magazine once that cardio is for children, and I guess that must have really stuck with me because I haven’t run anywhere since I became an adult.
When I was training, I was pretty skinny… well, most of me was. I’ve only ever seen one picture of my parents, but I guess I’ve got my mother’s genetics… I was the first girl in school to learn the meaning of the word ‘busty.’ But, because of all the time we spent running around, by the time I was seventeen, I was almost muscular!
I had a trim waist, I had thin hips, and I had… well, you get the idea.
And yes, those got a lot bigger too… (>_<) God, just feeling myself, it’s so crazy to think about…
This morning, I had actually admired my reflection!! I remember gushing over the length of my hair, putting my hands on my hips and wiggling back and forth. My jammies, a yellow-orange button up top and a matching pair of pants, highlighted the long strands of my fire-red hair. I felt that I looked… well, hot! Like a smoldering ember in the October morning, a still burning flame in a cozy fire pit.
Sure, the top was tight, but every outfit feels tight on me! I’ve had big boobs since I was fourteen, I got used to the feeling! I just… I never really noticed that they’d become tight on my hips… (;ω;)
Where was I…? Oh, right.
Things were peaceful. That’s why I was able to grow out my hair. I hadn’t even really thought about it till it had reached my lower back, and I realized I didn’t need to worry about anyone grabbing or tugging on it.
Well, anyone besides Ichigo. But it’s usually a… uh… different context… when he does it. There’re not very many things to grab ahold of when we’re… (-///-;)♥
Ohhhh Goooooooooooooooooooooooooood. I just had the worst thought. He could grab my love handles now! (´Ａ´) Agggghhhhhh kill meeeeeee!!!!
Point being!!! Looking myself over, I’d yet to realize that my waistline had grown nearly as much as my hair over the last three years, with the last six months likely being the biggest factor in my weighty plight.
I winked at myself in the mirror and felt myself wiggle with delight before scampering off for the bathroom to take my morning shower.
The sensations of the morning were just so… so pleasant, you know?
The feeling of warm water on my body after the chilly night. Exiting the bathroom, all wrapped up in a nice cotton robe, and catching that first sniff of coffee and breakfast being made. The feeling of a kiss on your neck after entering the kitchen to find your lover tending the stove.
You tend to miss the other sensations when you’re in such a good mood. How it takes just a little more time to reach everywhere in the shower. The tingle of your nose lifting and falling before you’ve even finished toweling off, already having caught the scent of frying bacon, and how your tummy purrs in a soft want. You focus on his lips rather than his touch, and don’t realize that his hand is now cuppingyour stomach rather than laying over it.
Then there was breakfast. I just… I love breakfast. I used to dislike it, but that’s when I was cooking for myself. When someone cooks for you, it’s like the food’s just so much more tasty. And… alright, well, I’ll admit it.
I always ate like I was the size I am now.
Breakfast had become something I love. I had never expected it to be! When we’d first moved in, I thought it’d be more of the same. But when Ichigo makes breakfast, he makes it delicious… Filling, tasty. Meaty.
It was hardy, but hardy had quickly become my new normal.
Steamed rice with egg, which is the usual, right? Some tsukemono as an accompanying dish, sure. Even a bit of kobachi! A few slices of bread that I’d take home from work, that’s okay. But… bacon? I’d never had bacon for breakfast until I moved in with Ichigo.
Now I’m eating it every other day…
And that’s the worst part! I’m sitting here, WEDGED in my CHAIR, and I’m already thinking about breakfast tomorrow! He’s going to make hash browns and eggs, with even more bacon! I know it, I saw the stuff in the fridge, and I can already practically taste it!! I’m about to start drooling, and I’m literally stuffing my face with chips!
Stars above… I love bacon so much. The salty, savory, fatty flavor clings to my tastebuds just like this softness now clings to my hips. I love the taste, love the little perk that’s come to my mornings with the cheerful chewiness of the lightly cooked meat and its lovely flavor.
Life has been good. Heck, it’s been lavish, our young adulthood has been packed with such wonderful splendor that I didn’t even realize I’d become chubby and soft until I tried to button my skirt.
I couldn’tbutton my skirt. My stockings were tight, which would have been fine on their own, but amongst everything else? Getting dressed suddenly made all of it seem so much more obvious.
I’d been in such a good mood, but could feel the high crashing around my pudge-covered hips as I stared at my reflection, and knew I’d got fat.
I checked my scale shortly after. Still undressed, wearing only my stockings and ill-fitting skirt, I’d snuck out to the bathroom, pulled it out from under the sink, and hurried back to our room. Then, I weighed myself.
Then I took off all my clothes, and did it again.
Seventy-five-point-three kilos.
One-hundred-and-sixty-six pounds.
I weighed myself a further three times just to be sure, growing more and more aware of how my tummy looked rounder and rounder each time I stepped on and looked down to the screen.
Despite my hopes, it wasn’t broken. Even if a part of me began to hope I’d somehow break it... but thinking that now sounds like it’d have made me much, much worse.
I’d gained nearly thirty kilos in less than three years, and like I said, this year had clearly been my worst offender. Moving in with Ichigo, getting our own little place, going to college… I don’t know if it was stress, because how could it be? I feel so… so alive. So cared for, so loved. My biggest worries right now are trying to wrap my head around equations, directly opposing years of my life wondering if I’d survive past high school.
My grades were good, my life was good, and my ass was fat.
And now, it’s a whole lot fatter.
Hold on a moment. I’m going to get some more frickin’ chips. Darned fat girl mouth…
******************************************************************************
Life is just… good. I know I already said that, but it deserves restating.
It was simple! It was pleasant! I’m in a new relationship, in a new circumstance, and hey, I’m getting older! Gaining a few pounds was bound to happen, it’s just the way that I am, so I don’t know why it felt so alarming!
I have spent the last three years taking life at a leisurely pace, snacking on teacakes and hanging on his elbow while we relax after work. It’s a routine, it’s normal, and it was… okay, well it was more than a few pounds, but I could trace exactly how they’d got there! （￣ε￣✿）
I go to school, I go to work. I come home, I read. I watch TV. I cuddle with the man I’m going to marry. Sometimes I write. Often, I just… enjoy it, you know? All of it. How quiet it is, how soft life had become for us both.
I don’t think I can really overstate this. I haven’t used my Shun Shun Rikka in years. I haven’t used Kido in years. There’re a hundred practical applications for magic, and I haven’t touched any of it, because life’s just… normal!
I haven’t even thought about the Gotei Thirteen in literal months! Rukia came by three months ago, had dinner, had some wine, and left, and that’s it! There wasn’t a hollow attack, there wasn’t some sort of major battle or epic plot. Life is boringand I’ve been enjoying that!
And then I found out I weighed nearly one-hundred-and-seventy pounds ･ﾟﾟ*(oдo)*ﾟﾟ･
I stepped off the scale and looked over my reflection, saw the pudge in my tummy hang over the band of my white panties. I turned to the side and it was much worse, a clear potbelly of creamy white skin, with two frikin melons that were firm yet heavy hanging over its top.
I scowled at myself, a prodding finger sinking into my waist before trying to pinch an inch of chub and instead coming up with a handful.
It sounds little now, coming from the girl complaining about her belly laying over her thighs and who can feel the tops of her breasts against her chubby fat chin, but it was a big moment for me!
I’d thought I was curvy! I wasn’t ready to be upgraded to chubby!
But chubby I was, beginning to resemble a piggie like the pork I’ve come to enjoy so very much.
I wouldn’t be so darn chubby if he just let me cook every once in a while. He gets sick one time and, suddenly, I’m banned from making tori sashi anymore. It’s not my fault he got salmonella…
Grumbling like this, I worked myself back into my school uniform, tugging on my stockings and pulling my skirt up as far as she’d reach. Then I slipped on my white dress shirt, noticing how the buttons on that were resisting my fingers, but managed to get most of them… besides the bottom two. My gray blazer covered them though, three big round buttons keeping it closed, but it was still pretty obvious that I wasn’t wearing a bra.
I’d known about that problem for the better part of two weeks, but hadn’t felt the need to go out and get anything new. My clothes were usually tight enough to offer support of their own… guess I know why, now. I feel so very foolish. （￣ε￣）
As for the skirt, I’d had an idea that I’d once used before. Back when I’d first become… busty. It hadn’t worked quite like how I imagined back then… actually, it drew attention right to the spot rather than hiding the problem, but the button of a skirt is much harder to see than the first button a girl busts with her breasts.
I went to the desk, the one I sit at right now, and had to move either chair to the side. It’s a single person desk, but we’d made room for both of our chairs and our respective schoolbooks…
I’m trying to picture him sitting next to me now. I really, really hope there’s still room. (⇀‸↼‵‵)
I pulled my chair out and went into my drawers, taking only a moment to find what I needed. I then replaced the chair and went back to the mirror, using the reflection to help navigate since my eyes had problem seeing past the heft in my body.
Despite myself, I still remember enjoying the reflection. The uniform was tight, sure, but it was the kind of tightness that seemed to enhance certain areas. A sort of… dishonest curvaceousness to it, with my tops tucking in my tummy like some form of corset. This, along with my hair, again made me think of my brother.
I wondered what he’d say of his little sister if he could see her. Twenty years old, plump and spoiled. Long, long hair. Full, full waistline.
He’d probably be proud.
I chuckled a bit, seeing the motion shaking my pudge as I did, and remember the smiling filling out my face. “You can do this,” I murmured, and I held up the tool I’d secured from my desk.
A small, brown, rubber band.
“This isn’t like last time,” I promised the chubby girl in the mirror. “Nobody is going to notice.”
If only I’d know how very wrong that would be.
Comments
Undertaker
Thanks so much! :D Yeah it was a real treat! I've wanted to play with a first person recounting for a while, and was hugely inspired by working with BWS on his comic's script!
Berry's Bakery
A fun read! And I bet you had fun writing it as well!
