Beetleboy's Writing Corner!

25, He/Him, UK Lover of the finer (bigger) boys in life Minors BEGONE!

[naughtynoodle056]

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

I added image descriptions too since it's a little wordy ;)

[naughtynoodle056]

Devante doesn't realize he's had a bit of an effect on his new pal Jay, but Marino sure does and he's very excited to prove to Dee just how chunky a certain music loving nerd has gotten

[father-no-collar]

Church potluck where the priest is too polite to say no, many proud moms offer him a plate of their prized dishes and he crumples like a bible page each time under their sweet smiles and insistent words

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

By the end he's too breathless to help the brothers with cleanup; he excuses himself to his office for a food coma and privacy to unbutton his cassock.

[would-you-like-some-soup]

*gets into new media* what if this character was fat

[jaypilled]

are those my only options

[lindleland]

disco elysium dialogue tree

[npdclaraoswald]

A doll youtuber I watch has made a video about the history of Polly Pocket, and she's describing the plots of the dvd specials, one of which features an elderly woman named Ms. Throckmorton, and my reaction was

[shencomix]

[bigguys365]

[chonkart]

[genius-of-women]

Everything just tastes good with weightgain. Petplay x wg, bondage x wg, sci fi x wg, slice of life x wg, cnc x wg, intox x wg...

[the-2nd-one]

Imagine a cute nerd in college that stresses so much about his grades and making sure he knows everything and studies that he stress eats so much.

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.

Yeah. Cute fat nerds, I love you so much.

[the-2nd-one]

Part two, but it’s mostly just extras/meta

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.

If anyone also wants to add on, feel free.

[the-2nd-one]

Imagine a prince who has ascended the throne. As king, he’s a terrific ruler. Strong, steel-willed, but also generous to his subjects.

He dismisses any questions about a possible queen, though. And heirs. He doesn’t talk about heirs. Waves off any talk of it, any pestering. He’s king now, so there’ll be no arranged marriages unless he has a say in them.

Until one day, the king stops making public appearances. It lasts for two weeks or so, and one of his loyal advisors has to stammer to the crowd when they demand to know what’s happened to him, “Erm… the king is, um, busy courting a… his… new… queen.”

Confusion spreads through the kingdom. Then, at the end of those two weeks, the king returns, and he does announce a new queen to the public.

It’s a whole ceremonious affair. A throne is beside his own, much wider but shorter to compromise.

Then the queen is brought out. Escorted by a few servants, helped into the new throne, is what is immediately identified as a fat man in a dress.

The ‘queen’ is mostly all belly, small chest but ample enough for a man, the low, square neckline giving more than enough possibility for flabby pecs to spill out. It’s hard to see under the dress, but it’s easy to assume the ‘queen’s legs are cumbersome rolls and chafing flesh, given the slow gait and need of assistance.

There’s hair on the exposed chest. Stubble on his chins. Short hair capped with a queen’s crown to match the queen’s garments. The king is smiling brightly, taking his supposed queen’s tubby hand from between the thrones. The queen seems less thrilled, red-cheeked and rasping.

The queen’s stomach rumbles. He groans with it, and with that the king announces an early start to the royal banquet.

In the privacy of their own quarters, the queen takes up the majority of the massive bed, nursing his belly as the king undresses him.

“See?” says the king. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“It was embarrassing,” the queen huffs. A fat pec slides from the top of his belly to its natural position a little further to the side, now that the dress is off. The queen’s lap is smothered with his expensive tastes: a massive belly that folds in the middle, sticky with sweat from the summer’s day.

The queen’s upper arms are dimpled with succulent rolls that the king figures would be great for kissing later, now that they’re a little bigger since their honeymoon ten days prior. Great for holding a babe, too. Teasing the public again by even remotely suggesting his queen gave birth to this orphaned infant.

A plan for a later date, he supposes.

“You’re my queen now,” says the king. “Aren’t you happy?”

The queen huffs. “I’m hot.”

“Poor thing. Have some water. My queen deserves only comfort.”

The king raises a bottle of cool water to his queen’s lips. He drinks it like there’s a drought.

“My greedy queen. All for me.”

The queen makes a noncommittal noise before the water is pulled away, a rivulet running down his chins. “Quit it with that,” he says, wiping it away.

“Calling you my queen?”

“Yeah. No one’s here to hear you.”

“But I enjoy it. You’re my queen, my lover, my goddess. Is that not what you like to hear?”

The queen’s breathing still rasps away, but he’s flushed now, which only makes it worsen. “Then– Then feed your queen something. Damnit. Damn you and your handsome good looks.”

The king kisses the queen’s temple. “They are why such a divine beauty lowered themselves to marry me.”

The queen scoffs. “Plead insanity, won’t you?”

The king pretends not to hear, ringing the servant’s bell on the wall to get his queen fed again. “I am afraid my queen is still a bottomless pit. Get her something, would you? Something large and filling, or else neither of us will sleep well. Thank you.”

The queen’s stomach makes a protesting noise before the king places a sympathetic hand on it. Rubbing small circles, the king says, “If the queen looks hungry, then so does the kingdom. I can’t have opposing monarchies thinking that our kingdom is suffering from food poverty, now do I?”

His queen scoffs. “Like this isn’t just a thing for you.”

The king beams before bringing his own lips to his queen’s. They kiss immediately, sudden and hungry.

Once he pulls away for air, the king places his forehead on his queen’s. His fat queen, who is so spoiled and well-fed even his forehead is chubby. “I’m so glad I found you. You’re the perfect queen.”

The queen, significantly more self-aware, snorts. “I’m a man, you dolt.”

“And what a fine man, too,” the king purrs, hands groping the underside of the queen’s belly. The underneath was still soft, as a roll of dough normally is, but the top half was always harder than one would expect. “Soon, as all fine men do, you won’t be able to move. You’re already so close as is.”

“Your fault,” the queen grouses.

“As if whatever got you to the size you were when I met you could ever be my fault.”

The queen continues to grumble.

The king grins. “My queen: always so moody when he’s flushed and hungry.”

“You try being this uncomfortable then. It’s no easy chore.”

“No,” the king replies softly, turning his attention to his queen’s swollen ankles. He starts to massage them. “Of course it isn’t.”

[naughtynoodle056]

Can't even listen to underground 90s hip hop anymore without getting messed with xD

[would-you-like-some-soup]

garbage disposal ass boyfriend who you can always give your food to when you can't finish it and he's so polite he doesn't turn down even a full plate of stuff so he ends up with quite the round and taut belly but he knows it was worth it for the rubs at home

[undercitytwerkteam]

when people are making fun of weird fetishes but it’s your weird fetish

[funnier-as-a-feedist]

[bramblesqrl]

SuperChubXLBoy is going to be murdered by the Canadian government.

Calling this premeditated murder on the part of the state is not exaggeration at all. They know that people in this level of bariatric care need physical assistance to turn in bed to prevent bedsores. By choosing to withdrawal physical assistance they are intentionally creating a scenario guaranteed to cause a bedsore. That bedsore will be left untreated because it cannot be accessed without turning the patient. And it will quickly become an abscess and lead to sepsis and organ failure within a week or less possibly.

THIS IS MURDER

This is also a moment for our community to stand up and do something. Aside from the obvious legal intervention needed here there are a few other things that can be done.

1. Raising funds to cover legal costs

2. Creating a petition to save Luke’s life

3. Making phone calls to province and even federal (or Canadian equivalent) officials asking them to intervene to save Luke’s life

4. Writing emails to these same officials asking them to intercede.

5. Contacting the media to raise awareness of his planned murder by the state

6. Creating a social media campaign urging people with any level or humanity or care for others to donate, call, or write an email

Whether it is moving him to another facility, getting his care home the proper equipment, or simply legally requiring the people in charge of his care to not murder him via intentional medical neglect. There are ways forward that allow everyone involved to retain their humanity and dignity

I don’t know him closely enough to start most of these. I don’t know the name of the care facility for starters. his full legal name, or how to get him access to funds for legal help. But at minimum I can spread the word about this. So that’s what I’m doing.

I’m not going to stand by and do nothing while he is murdered for being fat. Please share this information as widely as possible.