Beetleboy's Writing Corner!

Ashley punched in the code to Bree’s apartment, finding a handwritten note on the counter.

Thanks for looking in on Chunk! He’s very food-motivated, so don’t be afraid to use some treats if he’s not cooperating or offer him extra he’s being a good boy. Two containers in the fridge: one for dinner and one for dessert, make sure he finishes his dinner first and uses his bowl! Dessert usually goes in the wall feeder. He loves belly rubs, especially after he eats. -B

Ashley nodded, it seemed easy enough. From the fridge, she pulled out the large opaque Tupperware dinner with a sticky note that said "dinner" in delicate script. She hadn't heard any sounds of stirring, so she figured Chunk must be asleep. Ashley hoped he'd take his meal without too much trouble.

After a soft knock on the bedroom door, she opened it slowly.

"Chuuuunk," she said, her voice like a song. "I've got dinner for y—"

Ashley stopped at the sight of Chunk, who was sprawled supine out on a floor cushion the size of a queen mattress. He had always been big, but he'd grown downright enormous since she'd seen him last. Ashley figured he was nearly 500 pounds, if he wasn't there already. Stretch marks dappled his plump arms, his thighs were two hefty pillows of pudge that forced his legs apart, and even his face looked overinflated. Ashley couldn't tell if he was wearing much of anything, but he was easily kept decent by the bulging rolls of thigh and underbelly fat that were competing for space down there.

The only part of Chunk that didn't look doughy was his belly, which was a firm, round dome of flab that sat heavy against his middle, touching the ground on either side of his hips. The width and intense redness of the stretch marks gave his belly an extremely strained look, even now as it rose and fell with his slumbering breaths.

Ashley found the food bowl on the other side of the room, no more than ten feet from Chunk's bed. She popped the first latch off the Tupperware, immediately rousing Chunk from his sleep. Groaning, his eyes cracked open to see Ashley crouched at his bowl, starting to pour the fattening slurry of meat, cheese, and bread chunks that made up his meal.

"Heyyy Chunk," Ashley said, approaching him slowly. "You've gotten pretty big, huh? Too many treats, I guess."

but then I realised that same challenge would be infinitely more funny with folks who have atypical or horror OCs

give it a few more centuries. you're still mobile, your muscles have had plenty of time to adjust, but...things are getting more difficult. maybe you should stop now, maybe you should try and lose it, but things aren't that bad. you can still walk, after all, even if doorways are becoming an issue.

Starting off 2026 right with a comic I started like...3-4 months ago and just chipped away at slowly xDD

I needed more Feeder Leo/Feedee Marino in my life + cartoonishly big bellies so yeah please enjoy this self indulgence

"Oh come on Father, one more bite won't hurt. Try it! I worked so hard on this :("

At first, the weight isn’t much of issue. He’s always been chubby and one dress size up won’t deter him from the grades he wants. He doesn’t exercise by parking himself in a desk chair and barely moving for the day, poring over texts, so some weight is inevitable. Right?

He doesn’t cook for himself often, because it takes too much time from his studies. His mom sends things to his dorm like new underwear and socks and baked goods and if his weight changes drastically enough to render most of his closet moot he asks her for a size up.

When he revises, he snacks through nearly a whole day’s worth of calories, surely. When he has an upcoming exam or finds something in his notes he’s a bit muddy on, he panics and stuffs his face with takeout. A ton of burgers and fries, a large soda maybe, and some ice cream or something from the bakery down the road to wean him out of his feeding frenzy.

His later classes are always a pain because he ends up waddling there on a stuffed belly after gorging throughout the day as he’s studied.

There’s whispers from his classmates as his ass spreads in his seat, trapping his hips under the arms. Lately he’s had to make a habit of lifting an arm between two seats so he can sit on both, but occasionally he forgets, resulting in an end of lecture struggle.

During lectures he nervously grazes on a bag full of chips and candy bars to help him focus.

He decides to cut back, but when he’s studying the next day and uncovers a section he doesn’t know that well, he panics. He ends up in the closest fast food place shoveling food into his mouth until he can focus on the subject.

When he graduates, he’s over twice the size of what he was when he enrolled. And with a brain like his, he’s bound for a desk job - IT, maybe - where he can eat as much as he wants at his desk and blush when he can’t quite get out of his chair.

If anyone in the office wants him to put them on the top of his priority list, they know to take him food. Otherwise he’ll just insist he can’t work/think on an empty stomach and head straight to the cafeteria.

I won’t be treating it as such going forward, this is more of a meta element, but this could make great slob material. The nerd that keeps growing and has his whole workspace and car covered in evidence of him stuffing his face? Ooh.

The colleagues his age in the office space are kinder than his peers in school, but whether they’re doing so because they need something or are genuinely being nice is always a mixed bag. The older generation isn’t so much, mostly just tolerating him. After all, shouldn’t a boy his age be embarrassed to be that size?

He always goes home for the holidays. Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, his mother dotes on him and keeps his plate well stacked. It distracts him from the stresses of work, as that habit hasn’t died, and as his father doesn’t do much to withhold his disapproval of his state, he eats through that too.

His mother assures him he can just sit back and relax and eat as much as he wants, though she does think that some company could do him some good. A nice girl his own age, maybe.

On the drive home, he’s still stuffed. His belly is very heavy in his lap after being constantly full for a week or two thanks to his mother’s terrific, love-filled cooking. But the stresses of work and his mother’s desire for him to find company creep in, and he detours to a drive thru. His order is so large, that after he’s done he’s convinced there surely should be a law against driving like this. But it won’t be his last meal of the day – it’s only 2pm, after all.

He’s never really thought about what he’s into to even start looking. Even as a teenager, his romance has always been with food, given his ‘condition’. At best, when he’s touching himself as he eats after work, he’ll think of being fed or having his belly rubbed to make more room, but his primary focus will always be on the food. It’s a need.

If there’s someone at work that brings in stuff they’ve made and tries to make sure he has extra and enjoys, then it definitely goes over his head at first. The soft touches have a similar effect, though they stand out only a little. This person is always asking him if he needs something to eat, too… it’s definitely something that makes him blush.

He’s in the habit of splitting seams and busting zippers while at work. Popping a button or two as well. It’s a good thing his mother taught him to sew when he would hang off her constantly as a kid, but it’s still a big inconvenience.

Moody boy when his belly rumbles. He struggles to focus and can snap until he gets his fix. Maybe he tries rushing or even putting off tasks until he can plot himself down in the cafeteria and eat his fill before waddling back to his desk with a happy sigh.

The IT department (maybe it’s just him, maybe it’s him and another or two) has its own little section divided from the rest of the office. He can lock the door if needed although it’s heavily recommended by his supervisor he doesn’t. Anyway: perfect opportunity to unbutton and rub his full belly to make room for the cupcakes one of the newbies left on his desk. His mouth is watering just looking at them. How is he meant to focus when they’re right there?

I might add more to this. I might not. It’s mostly just a thought dump for now lol, basically me trying to break my writer’s block & general anhedonia.