a gift for @deceptichubs A little racer drooling over his big truck con/jux

I adore the idea of Prime Mega/tron as a huge mech and a huge glutton. I've read some fics with that premise; his personality makes him excellent for making massive.

At some point I want to do more with that--his frame would look great with some extra weight layered on top.

And he's a mech of big appetites...

Thinking about this again: breakthroughs in chemistry make synthetic fuels widely-available to even the poorest citizens, and mining becomes almost obsolete. So the planet's economy shifts...

It's only appreciated later that the synthetic fuels are fattening. After a few decades of steady exposure, a slim bot's a rare sight indeed.

(The revolution, when it comes, is led by an immensely-stout Mega/tronus...)

Thinking about an alternate prewar universe in which cheap, highly-enriched fuel is easily available to the masses and, at least in the industrialized cities, excess weight is the norm rather than the exception. Most bots don't use their own wheels to drive.

Thinking about a bot moving to Ia/con from the hinterlands (or even a colony world) and being struck by how fat everyone is. Even the smaller bots (slim next to their peers) are noticeably rounded; sure, they don't have bulky struts and cables, but they've got plenty of fat on them. Big hanging bellies are more the norm than the exception. Older infrastructure looks cramped, crammed with so many widened frames.

Newcomers, whether straight out of the Well or here from the boonies, grow to fit in quickly...

If Rat/chet is practically spherical after the war, I'd like to imagine that Bulk/head is *fully* spherical. As wide as he is tall, his fans whirring and pistons groaning furiously, his voice box laden with fat making his voice even *deeper*. He basically never stops jiggling now, and he might even need some kind of personal carrier platform to get around because he's just that huge.

Damn, I like that: Bulk/head growing into a barely-mobile globe of a mech, verging on wider than he is tall; thick rolls bulging outward in all directions, squashed under their own weight. A smaller bot could stick an arm all the way into his creases. He's easily doubled in size since the war...

Like the idea of him needing a carrier platform, too (and perhaps grousing about it). Imagining his broad aft spilling over the seat on both sides and his belly sagging down to touch the platform. Rarely has to stand these days...so all that fuel goes directly to his fat deposits.

Is there perhaps any AUs you'd like to share with the class, DC? (velvetafterdark)

No plans to turn this into a full fic at the moment, but I've been spitballing a mer/mech AU.

KO's a standard-issue mech, the scientific officer on an expedition to a cold and largely deserted region of the planet. He's isolated; he's bored; he's chafing under the work and the monotony and the ship's strict hierarchy.

BD is an extremely fat and extremely cocky sealmech.

They have no common language. BD discovers quickly that he likes calorie-dense processed fuels.

A parallel thought to the one just posted--

Thinking about Rat/chet and Bulk/head both rapidly fattening up postwar: Rat/chet's no longer running on half-empty, and Bulk/head's no longer burning off calories on the battlefield. The postwar prosperity ends up, in large measure, around their waistlines (and thunder thighs and ballooning afts).

Rat/chet grouses that he can still chide Bulk/head about his weight. It's irrelevant that he's practically spherical and that his double chin jiggles with every scolding word.

Thinking of Ratchet being fussy about eating more, but Knock Out loving to feed him. He gets fatter, and Ratchet is an old mech.. Ratchet feels GOOD being doted over... And being old and fat does wonders to his libido~

Rat/chet's not particularly fond of KO himself or of their unspoken arrangement. But he likes being an object of desire (and resents himself for enjoying it).

He's been around the block a few times. He recognizes the hungry look in the arrogant young* surgeon's optics.

*not that young

I've always really liked frantic stuckage, where somebody's girth plugs up the only escape from a perilous situation.

Like Bulk/head, having gorged himself before the mission, leads the escape from a Decep/ticon mine; managing to plug himself in the only way out - a tight, spherical hole in the cave wall.

The rest of the Auto/bots have to frantically shove and heave against his immense heft as Vehi/con soldiers come barrelling down the passage. All the while, Bulk/head just hangs there helplessly, regretting the extra meal he'd had that morning.

Damn. I hadn't thought about that one, but I love it--the peril, the humiliation, the physicality of it.

Thinking about postwar KO and Rat/chet working more closely together than they'd like.

KO has plenty of opportunity to needle Rat/chet about his hefty frame...

...and plenty of opportunity to encourage him to eat.

Might've just blown the lid off an academic dishonesty scandal at work. Tired as hell. Trying to distract myself tonight.

Might do some quick shitposts.

(Edit: passed the exam with 99/100. Gearing up for my dissertation proposal.)

How do you feel about fat mechs burping and farting when they're stuffed? Having ate so much but they just gotta let one rip to relieve themselves?

Generally into belching/eructophilia. I like focus on bloating and discomfort, and on outwardly-obvious (and humiliating) signs of having overdone it. Particularly like the idea that a rich meal isn't sitting well. I've written a few scenes with some incidental burping (Fuel Shortage has some, as do some of the oneshots), although I don't think it's ever been the main focus.

Generally not into farting/eproctophilia. Definitely not into any kind of focus on smell, hygiene, or waste. Could theoretically be into focus on bloating, discomfort, and outward signs of indigestion, but it'd really depend on how it was written.

Thinking about a postwar politician KO irritably scrutinizing official portraits and press photos.

The shots from his latest press conference make him look practically spherical, and the new headshot on his official comms really emphasizes his jowls and double (soon-to-be triple) chin.

His arm fat wobbles as he scrolls through the datapad, and his chins quiver with indignation. He's gone through several tall glasses of chilled Pra/xian syrup while reviewing this batch.

His staff have a private betting pool on how long it'll take him to crack and admit he's ballooned.

Thinking about weight gain as masculinization: a broad frame squared out by fat; a gut like a wrecking ball. Thinking about burly construction-frames with thick limbs and colossal, firm paunches. About breastplates reshaped around sagging, flabby chests.

kno/ck o/ut finding out that break/down typically skips meals to train and being like "unacceptable, get your aft over here" and dragging him to their quarters and getting him lots of sweets and food. break/down's initially a teeeny bit skeptical, but then his tanks growl really loudly and the idea of kno/ck o/ut feeding him being really hot to him

they spend the next few nights in their habsuite, kno/ck o/ut telling everyone else break/down is on a mandatory medical leave as he fattens his hubby up, playing with his big, growing belly and knockers when his chestplate can't close anymore. break/down of course loves it, happily snuggling his smaller lover and letting him pamper him

-chunky rat/chet anon

This is my favourite type of ko/bd mwah

Also chunked up break/down is everything to me and I know knock/out would be having the time of his life

Yes mechaboobies let’s go

Thinking about a postwar Rat/chet slowly settling back into a world where fuel is once again easily available. The demands on him are more intellectual than physical, and most days he barely moves from his workstation...

Doesn't take long for him to grow a big, hanging paunch and a thick double chin. His bustling waddle shakes his whole body.

He's prickly about his weight--he's never quite adjusted to the notion that the war's over, that he can relax--but he's in no hurry to shift it.

This is an 18+ blog. Everything here is porn.

Blocking teenagers en masse again.

Thinking about an alternate prewar universe in which cheap, highly-enriched fuel is easily available to the masses and, at least in the industrialized cities, excess weight is the norm rather than the exception. Most bots don't use their own wheels to drive.

Thinking about a bot moving to Ia/con from the hinterlands (or even a colony world) and being struck by how fat everyone is. Even the smaller bots (slim next to their peers) are noticeably rounded; sure, they don't have bulky struts and cables, but they've got plenty of fat on them. Big hanging bellies are more the norm than the exception. Older infrastructure looks cramped, crammed with so many widened frames.

Newcomers, whether straight out of the Well or here from the boonies, grow to fit in quickly...