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what did I say

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here’s the second part of todays stuffing (so far)

just something a little light to pack in on top of everything else when my tummy had settled a bit. just McDonald’s fries and a coke, nothing too big.

the only things big in this video are me, and those burps.

i dont know what was going on inside that tummy, but all i know is it started aching so incredibly bad. everything was so sensitive, i swear i became heavier, and nothing was going to keep all of those belches in. i got so wide and round in this video, its pathetic.

all i could do to try and bring myself any relief was play with my flab until i got enough are out in order to move around a bit, then have to get more out, and repeat the cycle. ive never had such a bad case of the burps in my life, what is happening to me??

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How did the decepticons react to term 2 starscream (getting chunky)

Starscream (and seekers) are generally already considered attractive by cybetronian standards, so while carrying, he turned even more heads than usual. Even so, most of the decepticons know to avoid staring before:

A. Starscream takes it as a threat

B. His trinemates take it as a threat

Or C. Megatron takes it as a threat

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being ace + really horny + a feedist is silly af. yeah my sex drive is crazy im a freak in the sheets but you cant join me. and also i need to eat 2k calories of pasta first

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POV: You're using my belly as a pillow at a sleepover and it's almost breakfast time and my big fat belly is getting antsy, growling and vibrating against your head ❤️💦

(I literally just laid my phone on my belly this morning after I woke up and hit record, and this is the result... completely non-stop grumbles!🥵)

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please do more big starscream

I have some more polished stuff planned when I finish some college stuff but in the meantime have a messy lil sketch!! thank you for the encouragement I needed it 😭 sometimes drawing very self indulgent stuff like this makes me want to explode

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Chubformers drabble #236!

Characters: Skyfire & Starscream (G1)

Word count: 1.3k

Things were finally looking up for Starscream, which was saying a lot for a mech who had spent a long, long time considering nothing would ever be capable of improving. To his surprise (and his relief), however, the future was, in fact, a hell of a lot brighter than his past had ever been.

Things were calm for them now. The war was over, he was back to exploring the stars and charting the life amongst other planets, and he got to do so with the most important mech to ever stand at his side—Skyfire. Big, soft, beautiful Skyfire, a beast of a bot and a marshmallow of a mech. Harmless and happy, and oh so devoted to his beloved Star… it was perfect. Life was perfect. Things were finally looking up, and Starscream had hope for what the future might hold.

That was exactly what he wanted to imagine, and for a time, it had been exactly what he believed. But now, as the rapid shift from backbreaking responsibilities and the requirement to live on the edge of danger with his life held in the balance day in and day out turned to something a lot more soft, stable, and secure, Starscream was struggling to adjust. He was struggling to adapt, more specifically, and despite all of the satisfaction that came from having everything he had once had returned to him, things just couldn’t be perfect.

Maybe he wasn’t capable of having perfect. Maybe he was just a little too stuck up for his own good, just like his trine use to tell him. It didn’t matter to Starscream, none of it did. What mattered to him was that he had gotten everything back to being right in the world again, and now, as he finally began to decompress and heal from the terrors of old, his frame was betraying him.

It was one thing to stand and stare from the doorway of their massive shared habsuite and watch as Skyfire, soft and curvy in all the right places with all the weight in all the right spaces, lounged so comfortably atop their massive berth. He had grown rather large after his defection, and Starscream was grateful for it. The shuttle build he bore finally looked like and shuttle and acted like a shuttle, which meant Skyfire was even happier than he had been before during the war. Starscream, on the other hand…

Well. He had gained, too, and he had gained a hell of a lot of weight in comparison. Not as much as Skyfire, per se, but a lot. Too much, really.

He hated it. He hated the way it held him down, and he hated the way it felt to transform around his pudgy middle and fatty thighs. He hated the jiggle of his belly and the soft mesh building around his shoulders, and he hated his weight gain just as much as he loved Skyfire’s. It was ridiculous, he knew, but still… he hated it.

Starscream crossed his arms and kicked the floor with a pede in hopes that by sheer force of will Skyfire might be drawn from his focus on the datapad in hand to the chubby, grumpy flier standing in the doorway. His thoughts had already begun drifting back to the sour comparisons of frames built for weight and the frames built for speed. His mind was still poisoned time to time by the thoughts of war-time demands and functionalist beliefs no matter how thorough Skyfire was in his reminders of how much he adored Starscream’s new look (and similarly, his own), but he tried to stop it. That, of course, included going straight to the source of his reassurances when the little voices in his helm grew to be too much to bear.

From the berth, Skyfire stopped his reading for a brief, lazy stretch—that was when he caught sight of his lover standing in the doorway, and his attention was immediately shifted.

“Star!” he said, optics bright and face beaming. “I didn’t know you were there! Come here, come join me. I’ve just begun reading this new passage about…”

The excitable account of solar system research and new space discoveries was nothing more than a mumbled drone in Starscream’s audials. He lowered his gaze to the floor and attempted to fight against the internal monster holding him in place, but he simply couldn’t force himself to move from his spot in the doorway. It was like his pedes were fused to the floor, and his mind was elsewhere.

He was lucky, then, to have his return to the present be rewarded with the sight of a big, soft belly staring back at him and Skyfire’s similarly soft and concerned face staring down at him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice dropping to that low cadence he spoke in whenever he knew Starscream was lost in his own head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Starscream managed to mumble even as he was drawn into a frame-crushing hug and smothered by the soft, pudgy belly. “Mmmph…”

“It’s never nothing with you,” Skyfire said. “What is it? Thinking again? Someone said something? Talk to me, Star.”

It was hard to keep his composure with his face buried in his partner’s belly, and at this point, Starscream hardly bothered trying. He wanted the reassurance just as much as he needed it, but he just didn’t want to ask for it. It was where Skyfire met him halfway every time, and Starscream was secretly and silently grateful for it.

“This isn’t about that pretty little belly of yours, is it?” he said, one massive servo gently pinching at Starscream’s sides while the other stayed wrapped around Starscream’s frame. “Or is it the love handles you’re starting to grow out? You know how much I love those love handles on you—“

“Don’t even start,” Starscream growled into Skyfire’s belly. He was melting already. “You know they don’t suit me.”

“Oh, but they do,” Skyfire cooed, “as does the belly, and the thighs, and the plating you’re starting to grow out of again. It suits you nicely.”

Soft and sweet, just like he liked it—and just like he needed it. Starscream pulled away slightly, his sour expression only held together by sheer force of will. He had already started to crack. The cushy words and gentle doting always did the trick.

“But I’m not meant to carry so much weight—that’s the thing,” he said with a pout. “You’re a shuttle. I’m a seeker.”

Skyfire cocked his helm the side. “The war is over, Star. The only seeker I like is the perfectly healthy, happy, and chubby seeker standing right in front of me. Besides…”

He tugged Starscream even closer yet, his servo cupping him around his waist, and squeezed at the pudgy rolls accumulated there.

“…if I didn’t like you looking like this, why on earth would I have planned for our day off together to involve lazing around until you’re ready to go for the reservations I’ve booked at that tiny little eatery you enjoy so much?”

Starscream pulled back once again. “No. You didn’t.”

“Oh yes,” Skyfire chuckled, “I did. Still wanna sit out here and sulk, or would you like to come join me for a bit of lazing around in the berth?”

“Psh,” Starscream scoffed, “how could I refuse?”

He couldn’t. Not when it was Skyfire dragging him to the berth and arranging the sheets just right, cuddling him from behind and squeezing him so tight. It worked like a charm every time, and now, instead of the insecurities he had mulled over all morning, all Starscream could think about was trying not to snooze while Skyfire held the datapad out in front of them and scrolled through endless new documents and data about the most recent astro research being performed.

Lucky him… things were finally beginning to look up again.

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Chubformers drabble #219!

Characters: Soundwave & Shockwave (G1)

Word count: 1.4k

Even personal endeavors and side projects counted as important scientific research, no matter how odd or extravagant. Shockwave didn’t exactly consider testing his own limits over the course of several cycles to be all that out of the ordinary, but judging by his assistant’s increasingly flustered feedback, there had to be something he was missing.

If something was missing, that meant further research was to be performed. Thus, the cycle repeated… and continued… and never quite died out. It was a good thing, really. The more he did it, the more intrigued by his findings he became. The longer they stuck to it, the more difficult it became for Soundwave to bear the same (or similar) stony expression and eager encouragement. It was amusing, really. It was sweet, dare he say.

It was… well, encouraging, as was the support. And the feedback. And the encouragement. He was encouraging in his encouragement, and Shockwave was starting to view said eager support as more of a vice than anything, if not an interest, or a fixation. Nonetheless, work was being performed, data was being stored, and Soundwave was more than happy to be there to oversee and support every last bit of information they gathered from this odd experiment.

Rapid weight gain wasn’t the goal of his studies, but it was certainly a prominent side effect. This, of course, didn’t go undocumented, but it definitely didn’t stand out as a striking result of his efforts. He was striving to study the capacities and limits of his own systems, which meant pushing his tanks to their peak and keeping careful track of the results. Each day he got a little farther, and each night he found it a little harder to squeeze himself out of his office chair and accompany Soundwave back to their quarters.

It was important work to him, and to Soundwave. Alas, the weight gain—which was always a known factor and a prominent side effect—was beginning to take its toll. Shockwave, for one, could hardly squeeze out of his seat any longer, and Soundwave, for another, seemed far too preoccupied with hiding his face from view and keeping his secondary programming from overriding his core systems to be of much assistance anymore.

It was a sticky situation, and Shockwave knew about sticky. Hell, he was practically always sticky anymore. Don’t even get him started on the unconventional ways of refueling he had been forced to use and adapt to in his attempts at making mildly groundbreaking discoveries in his downtime.

Despite the frequent troubles in their endeavors, Shockwave (and, subsequently, Soundwave) was having quite a bit of success in his experiment thus far. That day would mark the fifth week in a row since beginning the process, and to celebrate their success, he was putting his tanks to the test with the most fuel he’d ever ingested in one sitting. It would push his limits come future attempts, but for now, it was going to be a groundbreaking moment for them both.

Shockwave was eager to begin, as was Soundwave. His companion’s servos shook as he hooked up the tubing and prepared the machine, and as Shockwave led him through the steps for their latest attempt, the silent mech never met his gaze. He was as excited as he was nervous, then, but the anxious energy rolling off of him was infectious—he was eager to begin, just like Shockwave.

All would be just fine. He had planned everything out to the last drop in the machine, and if all went according to plan, Soundwave needn’t do nothing more than turn off the machine and jot down the information Shockwave gathered.

“Prepare yourself,” Shockwave said as he attempted to shift in his seat, the fat on his frame squished between the armrests and practically spilling out over the top. “Datapad at the ready, and flip the switch in three, two…”

Soundwave’s gaze never left Shockwave’s frame. More specifically, it never left his belly. He could almost hear the mech silently warring with his internals over the sounds of his plating’s creaks as the fuel dispenser powered up, and within seconds, his tanks were filling fast.

It was a swift process, and one that they had done at least a dozen times or more by now. Some nights were for taking measurements, others were for comparing data… but this was the night to remember. This was a landmark moment. This would be the night he pushed his limits and determined just how far he could go.

It had been a silly accident at first, getting stuffed silly by a tipsy third in command who couldn’t keep his servos to himself. Ever the endeavorer in the academic field, Shockwave just couldn’t let the night last… and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to keep the flushed and eager assistance from his companion close for a little while longer.

Tension was building, and Soundwave was as rigid as the plating left around Shockwave’s abdomen. He kept his intakes slow and steady, and he kept his gaze rooted on the fuel dispenser. Staring at Soundwave would mean he’d lose his focus, and staring at his belly would mean he’d stare at Soundwave, which… well. You get the idea.

He couldn’t afford to lose any progress, especially not now. This was important. This was groundbreaking. This was—

“Turn off the machine,” he gasped, his servo peeling away from the armrest and curling around his belly. It was tight as a drum and hard as anything. He could practically feel it expanding. “Turn off the machine, Soundwave. Turn it off now.”

A second more and he would have gone overboard. A second less and he wouldn’t have received the results he was hoping for. The hum of the dispenser was cut, and the air was silent, save for his labored breaths and Soundwave’s own poorly regulated ventilations. Slowly, once Shockwave was sure he could move without danger, he checked his fuel capacity, and—

It was at 123.87% capacity. He had reached his limits and then some, just as he had hoped.

“We’ve done it,” he said, breathless and pleased as Soundwave moved in for the important step—the belly rub and the struggle to pull him out of his chair. “We’ve done it, Soundwave! My fuel capacity has been expanded by a whole three-point-eighty-seven percent!”

Soundwave allowed himself a purr in return, his servos busily working away to quell the building bellyache under the surface. Satisfied with his findings, Shockwave relaxed into the touch.

He had done it. He had met his goal. Now, to celebrate, recuperate, and plan. There was plenty more room to improve, after all.

He was most certainly pinned to his chair by now. He was probably stuck fast, judging by the way the backs and arms dug into his soft, doughy build. Soundwave, still occupied with gushing over his fatty frame to bother with prying him from the chair just yet (assuming it was even possible; they might have to call in extra support this time), didn’t even begin to attempt freeing his scientist just yet.

Usually, Shockwave would have urged him to get on with the next step so they could continue working. This time, he allowed it. He even gave in, just for the fun of it. They both deserved a satisfying end to their accomplishments, after all… or maybe that was just Soundwave’s infatuation rubbing off on him.

Oh well. Too late.

“We’ve done well,” he managed to say, his intakes still shuddering and his tanks still aching. “This will be wonderful progress for the next attempt.”

Soundwave nodded, then paused in his belly rubbing and tilted his helm.

“Query,” he said, his face softening. “Return to quarters?”

No… not yet. Definitely not yet.

“Soon,” Shockwave said instead, his contentment bleeding into his voice. It was a rare show of satisfaction for him, but this was something to be celebrated. “Let us revel in this victory for a time longer. Then, we can determine how best to free me from this ridiculous seat.”

Soundwave’s amusement only lasted for a moment before he went back to rubbing, soothing, and cooing over Shockwave’s belly, and Shockwave was no better. The intoxicating satisfaction of success was great, but the aftermath was even greater.

He had the numbers, and he had his evidence. He could wait just a while longer… just for a spell.

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Guards! Impregnate that man!

Sir, yes sir!

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I apologize for the brief hiatus!

Chubformers drabble #12!

Character: Shockwave (G1)

Word count: 497

The room was quiet, save for the sound of fingers tapping at a datapad and the soft, hissing pulse of a fuel pump. It was almost too quiet, but for a mech like Shockwave, there could never be such a thing.

For someone who prided himself on the constant and successful separation of logic and emotions, Shockwave was struggling. It had been easier in the beginning. When he’d first made the decision to move from occasional rations injected into his fuel lines to hooking up the pump and fueling himself straight from the source, he’d prioritized his work ethic and results above all else. Now, however… he was trapped.

In his shortsightedness, Shockwave had made a grave mistake. He was intelligent—very much so. He’d known that the benefits of constantly filling his frame with rich, nutritious energon would far outweigh any negative impact on his systems. At least, he’d thought he’d known. Every calculation, every rundown, it had all pointed to one thing: efficiency. He was intelligent, and he was devoted, and… he was mistaken.

Primus above!—if Primus even bothered listening to mechs such as him. He was so far gone, after all. Shockwave had done what he’d thought was right, and it had backfired. He’d made a calculated, scientific decision, and it was wrong.

His movements were sluggish, his frame now heavy from the weight he was forced to carry. In his eagerness to improve, Shockwave had made the mistake of indulgence, and it was a costly one. Now, with the pump flowing freely, hooked to an outside source Shockwave could no longer reach (he was practically bedridden at this point, stuck to his chair with no room to move), Shockwave was trapped. Destined to accidental gluttony, his biggest mistake had been assuming a constant source of fuel would solve his problems.

Rather than promote an increase in energy, Shockwave merely felt weak and sluggish. His systems ached from the effort it took to ventilate, weighed down by the tons and tons of mass that had accumulated on his frame. Shockwave was stuck, now, as well as fat. Even for a tank such as himself, the influx of such rich fuel had done more than a little damage to his frame.

He was still a scientist, after all, and a devoted one. The Decepticon cause was an important mission to him, and though his newfound situation posed many challenges, Shockwave did everything in his power to continue serving Megatron. However, he was starting to slow.

With each passing day, the pump seemed to grow louder as more and more thick, fattening fuel pumped into Shockwave’s frame. He’d fought it at first, determined not to fall into the trap of becoming a blob of a mech, but as the days passed and the pounds increased, Shockwave’s resolve began to waver. It was almost nice, he thought, allowing himself to indulge, to grow fat and idle. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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i like cliffjumber hes my number wife to fatten up

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A stuffed bot who's armor is struggling to contain all that new weight, for you audio lovers out there

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Bruh I'm gonna be so fr I think I'm ace. Met up w a friend/kind of maybe feeder today and got dinner, they teased me a bit and I liked that but when they offered to fuck it felt like.scary. uncomfortable y'know. I didn't feel unsafe I trust this friend a lot n we ended up not doing anything but like huh. Maybe I am just a really horny ace dude

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first post, im going 2 hell

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Chocolates before bed

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had in my head the concept of robots with lava lamp bellies, got around to drawing them

the idea is they make for space heaters and lava lamps, among other things. they come in different aesthetic models and lava colors

i might have contracted a brain-rot in the process

extra variant under the cut

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i think i censored the only part that would get me in trouble. hopefully.