mr-miss-anonymous

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Silly joke I've had for months

#I’m in love

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Thoughts on (ftm) Ratchet?

We live laugh love old fat transmen <3

Also I do wish to clarify that me calling him a "mom" doesn't mean I see him as a woman. If you do, hell yeah!! That's so swag!! I personally don't, I don't particularly have a reason I call him a mother, I just started and idk why but it's fun to me so imma keep doing it

But hell yeahhhhhhh we love FTM Ratchet

#thisssssss #mom ratchet but he’s still ftm #very valid #and good #tf ratchet #ratchet

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Blades from tfrb

This was just a random sketch that i decided to color lol

He looks like such a goober 🥺

#tf blades

[mr-miss-anonymous]

refined lines finished. Someone is such a tease….. ;)

#drooling #panting #foaming #chubformers #blast off

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Chubformers drabble #18!

Character: Sunstreaker (G1)

Word count: 456

Sideswipe was totally jealous… and Sunstreaker knew it.

The yellow speedster made a dramatic show of licking his fingers clean, a contented hum escaping him as he leaned back in his chair and slapped his servos against the swell of his belly. From across the room, Sunstreaker spotted Sideswipe’s gaze watching him intently.

He didn’t necessarily mean any harm to his twin. Energon was mostly fair game, after all, and he certainly couldn’t help the sudden increase in attention from their fellow teammates—especially when most of said attention had fallen onto Sunstreaker, and Sunstreaker alone. If Sideswipe was looking to pack on a few extra pounds, so be it! Sunstreaker wouldn’t stand in his way. At the same time, Sunstreaker wasn’t about to quit indulging in the influx of adoration from the newly exposed chubby chasers, either.

The lounge area was crowded that afternoon, which meant the perfect opportunity for Sunstreaker to revel in the dozens of secretly adoring fans who sat back and watched him refuel. He made no effort to hide the dramatics, instead taking care that his lunch break was as entertaining as he could possibly make it. Sideswipe being present was just a coincidence, of course. Never ever would Sunstreaker consider teasing his brother with his own successful weight gain. Not at all.

“Ohhh boy,” Sunstreaker loudly groaned. “That fuel really hits the spot, eh, guys?”

With one servo tracing large, lazy circles into his belly, Sunstreaker leaned forward and reached for his next ration. He’d already downed at least a week’s worth of fuel, but without the strain of his tanks to warn him to stop, he knew he was nowhere near finished. He could feel the stares of multiple bots as he slumped back in his chair and downed the cube in one go, thick gulps visibly expanding in his throat as he swallowed.

There was a familiar ache forming behind closed panels now, and as much as Sunstreaker was tempted to take his binge session to his private quarters, he couldn’t help but stop and search for Sideswipe’s face in the crowds. He wanted to see his brother’s reaction, feel the smug satisfaction of one-upping his own twin. Once Sunstreaker had caught Sideswipe’s optic again, his smirk widened. Sideswipe was obviously here to enjoy the show as well, and a show was exactly what Sunstreaker would offer.

Sunstreaker struggled to sit upright at first, his frame almost too heavy for his own good. He managed a slouched position though, and the angle put just enough pressure on his gurgling belly that he was able to give his chest a few thumps and—

BRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

“Ahhh…” he sighed, happily slouching back and slapping the top of his belly. “Much better.”

#chubformers #tf sunstreaker

[mr-miss-anonymous]

The person I reblogged this from is awesome as fuck.

#👏👏👏

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Chubformers drabble #17!

Character: Helex (IDW)

Word count: 407

A veteran of sadistic practices and questionable morals, there was very little that made Helex uncomfortable. Happily considered the backup his team needed for more challenging pests, Helex’s main goal was always providing unfortunate souls the agonizing death they would’ve never imagined possible. It was a terrible way to go, and one Helex prided himself on. However, the act itself didn’t come without its own set of discomforts.

The massive mech had retired to his berthroom for the night, having felt far too uneasy to remain in his fellow DJD members’ company. His most recent victim, a fiery seeker with an admirable will to survive, had been wreaking havoc on his innards since earlier that morning. Smaller meals such as this didn’t often upset Helex’s systems, but Primus did the bot put up a good fight.

A sharp and painful belch was muffled behind one of Helex’s many servos as he lay slumped over on his berth. With two arms working to soothe the roiling mess his belly had become, he was free to make as many attempts at stifling any embarrassing noises as he could with the other set of servos. It was already embarrassing to be seen in such a state—he didn’t need his shameful chorus of burps and moans to be heard on top of it.

It didn’t happen often, but once every few rounds, Helex found his systems tended to revolt. The problem was usually solved after he’d drained the remains of a smelted mech from his gut, but in the meantime, Helex was left a bloated, achy mess. His middle was swelled to twice its size now, nearly shaped in a perfect dome as it worked furiously to defeat the meal beneath its surface.

“Urgh…” Helex groaned, his servo settling on a rather tender spot in the middle of his swollen gut. Pressing against soft, bloated mesh only aided in pushing up another thick, sour belch, leaving him groaning louder still. “Why won’t you just settle already? It’d do us both a great service, y’know.”

As though responding just as bitterly, Helex’s belly burbled and cramped, leaving the poor bot to clutch at it in agony. The seeker was likely long gone by then, but as it stood, his remains still left a world of discomforts for Helex to power through.

It was going to be a long night, he supposed. He couldn’t wait until morning came—and with it, relief.

#chubformers #helex #idw helex

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Human Rhythm and Swindle bC I love them

+ a stupid doodle I thought of

#oh my god I love them #that side eye though #ahh… swindle…

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Chubformers drabble #16!

Character: Rodimus (IDW)

Word count: 557

As captain of the Lost Light, Rodimus had quite the heavy weight resting on his shoulders. He was responsible for the safety and wellbeing of all the members of his crew, after all, and it certainly wasn’t a light burden. Thousands of answers from Primes before him were at his disposal, but in true form, Rodimus eventually came to the conclusion that there was no better way to deal with the pressure of being a Prime than simply letting loose.

Though young and inexperienced, Rodimus had made a respectable captain. Life aboard the ship was always fairly pleasant, and he’d known no better days than the ones spent on the Lost Light. There was a secret to achieving the level of comforts and pleasures he made possible, of course, and Rodimus based his success on this goal alone.

Since discovering his love for indulging in some of the more exciting aspects of life after war, both Rodimus’ size and reputation had grown tenfold. The Prime still did his very best to play an active role on the ship, but things became increasingly more difficult as time passed.

Bound to his bed by size alone, Rodimus had become quite the sight. Little more than fat and mesh splayed out across the slab on the floor, Rodimus had embraced his new way of living with open arms… and a full stomach. His massive build hadn’t been immediate, of course, but a rapid spike in weight gain was to be expected after he’d become too fat to move. After breaking the last three berths built for him—as well as half of the furniture aboard the ship—Rodimus had somewhat reluctantly concluded that a more permanent solution was needed.

At first, being trapped by his own weight had almost felt like a death sentence. Despite the pleasure he gained from throwing all cares to the wind, Rodimus was almost surprised at how limiting his new size could be. This posed little problem, however, as the more Rodimus gained, the more doting his teammates became. By the time he’d realized he was far too fat to move any longer, accommodations from all of the ship’s members had eagerly been made.

Rodimus leaned back against the wall with a sigh, a long, dramatic stretch causing the massive rolls on his front to jiggle and slosh. He had woken up only a few minutes before, but he was starving. A fuel pump stored in the far corner of his quarters caught his attention, holding the promise of another day spent chugging precious fuel.

Outside of movie nights in his quarters and the occasional breaks for proper work, Rodimus almost exclusively spent his time refueling anymore. Still, it was something he’d grown to wholeheartedly enjoy. As expected, the rest of the ship quickly followed suit.

Like clockwork, there was a knock at the door. The fat mech couldn’t help but grin as the morning’s chosen feeder slipped inside, an eager expression emphasized by the slick condensation dripping down their thighs from their exposed array. Rodimus certainly enjoyed his new size, but the rest of his team seemed to enjoy it more.

“Morning, Roddy,” the bot said, happily rolling the machine closer to Rodimus’ side. They snuck in a pinch at one of Rodimus’ more prominent rolls before beginning to untangle the machine’s cords and hook up the tube to Rodimus’ intake. “Hope you’re hungry today…We’ve got a lot of rations to pack away.”

#chubformers #idw rodimus

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Heehee

Let’s start a tag game!

Picrew: Link

Tags :D

@ramblingsofacotlfangirl @bunnybitsy @gameslotel @fluffysweetnectarine @itti-bitti-yibbi @anti-c1ffee

#I don’t know who to tag 🥺 #but if you’d like to join… #PLEASE DO I LOVE ALL THE PRETTY PICS

[mr-miss-anonymous]

I cant stop laughing at this page. The fact that they dropped him in truck mode. And he fell the entire way in truck mode. Just to squash swindle. You can practically hear the anvil dropping sound effect. 10/10 no notes

#bbhssgghhh #what a way to go #let’s hope he’s into that sort of thing

[mr-miss-anonymous]

CHUCKS HIM AT YOU

#AHHHHH #tried to catch #failed miserably #starscream

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Chubformers drabble #15!

Character: Devastator (six in one! Heehee)

Word count: 560

The transformation of Devastator was an impressive achievement, and one the Constructicons managed to do seamlessly every single time. At least, it had been that way up to a point.

Theories were still up in the air about who was responsible for the most recent gain in Devastator’s mass, but one thing was for certain: the shift from war-ready Constructicons to soft, fattened gluttons hadn’t happened overnight. As it stood, each member was more than content to blame the other for their slow and steady downfall.

Their struggle (or Devastator’s struggle, more specifically) had begun that morning. After Megatron—face bright and frame shaking with poorly concealed anger—came bursting into their private habsuite to tell off the six lounging mechs for overindulging in the energon rations yet again, the combiner team had been let off with a warning: form Devastator by nightfall, or they were benched for the foreseeable future.

This posed quite a few issues, of course, with the main problem being that Devastator hadn’t been formed in… well, weeks. Maybe even months, if they recalled properly. Still, orders were orders, and the group of Constructicons grumpily pushed themselves up from where they were curled up together on the couch.

For a group of bots who frequently combined into a larger being, the process was pretty simple. They’d done it for eons, of course. By then, their frames were practically made to connect. However, what they soon realize was that an increase in weight (and size) among each member of Devastator would, in fact, cause quite a few issues in performing a seamless transformation. How they hadn’t come to this conclusion before, given the fact that most of the group had become far too fat for their altmodes, was a mystery.

“No, no, no!” Mixmaster spat. “You’re doing it wrong. Devastator’s arms shouldn’t be that long!”

“It won’t fit any other way,” Hook said from somewhere below him. “I… umph-! Stop moving!”

“Both of you shut up!” Came Bonecrusher’s roaring voice followed by the sound of a pained squeak from Long Haul. “Everyone stop talking for a second. Let me focus.”

It was challenging to move when his fat frame had been squeezed into place, but Mixmaster managed to free himself just enough to whip around and glare in Bonecrusher’s general direction. As if he wasn’t already struggling to keep them from falling apart, his subordinate just had to prove himself to be another source of distraction. Mixmaster grumbled under his breath, a soft and low sound that almost went unnoticed.

Well, nobody but Long Haul noticed, and he just had to say something.

“We’re screwed, aren’t we, Mixmaster?” The Constructicon said.

“We are not! Just… just give me a second! I’ll figure something out.”

Mixmaster gave a grunt of effort, desperately struggling to squeeze himself into place—along with the rest of Devastator. If they could just reach that sweet spot, then…

The sound of creaking metal suddenly split the air, followed by the pained cries of more than one bot. It was then Mixmaster realized the whole ordeal was never going to work, having looked down long enough to see the five other Constructicons lacked in just as tightly, guts spilling free and mesh straining against tight plating, threatening to pop free at any given moment.

Frag it all, they were totally screwed.

#chubformers #devastator

[mr-miss-anonymous]

what Did I Do?

Little quick Drabble for my buddy! B.lastoff / on.slaught. Angst, binge eating…. Belching….

No sooner did the shared habsuit door close did he let out a quivering sigh. Just what had possessed him to do what he had done? Did he lose his mind? Heaving deep breaths, Bla/st O/ff peeled himself from leaning against the door and smacked his servo on his helm.

“Stupid…. Stupid…. Stupid!” Each word was followed by hitting himself on the helm as he paced around his room. His frame still tingled with the dread of realizing the severity of what he had done.

And just what did he do?

He performed a cardinal sin amongst the Decep/ticons: he honestly spilled his feelings in a silly little love note to his crush. And he gave it to said crush.

So, when he was called into his boss’s office, one of two things would happen: On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and return the feelings… or On/slaught would finally acknowledge him and humiliate him for being so foolish.

It turns out neither of those options happened. As Bla/st O/ff sat in the chair, he noticed his stupid, school-girl love note had fallen to the ground. His spark froze in his chest: his crush didn’t read it! Biting his lip, he wondered if he could snatch the incriminating evidence and save his face.

Sadly, On/slaught discovered the note, stopped rambling about battle plans (for once), and bent down to pick it up.

And much to the subordinate’s horror, he unfolded the note and read it—yup, right in front of him.

Talk about sweating bullets! His stomach churned as his frame warmed. His fingers idly fidgeted as he squirmed in his seat. Naturally, the Lead Combat/icon’s expression was unreadable, so he had no clue how his love/boss felt.

Until the note was lowered. And On/slaught stared into Bla/st O/ff’s optics blankly.

And this moment of silence was deafening. It was quieter than being in deep space. It felt like hours had passed, and he could not pull his fearful stare from the blue mech.

But being the coward he was, Bla/st O/ff stuttered, apologizing profusely as he bolted out the meeting room door. Yes, On/slaught called after him, but he couldn’t muster the courage or strength to obey. Instead, he ran back to his small habsuit, tears sliding down his reddening face.

This leads him to where he is currently: pacing his room and biting at his fingertips. Just what did he get himself into? And how could he get himself out of this?

He couldn’t remain still. He needed to do something before the repetitive self-destructive thoughts took over. Sadly, he suffered bouts of this and gave in to old habits. He snagged a bunch of snacks from the shared kitchen—more than his fair share—and retreated to his personal sleeping quarters.

He sat upon his berth, replaying the humiliating scene repeatedly in his processor as he mindlessly opened boxes of sweets and freed them from the plastic wrappers. As soon as that sweetness filled his mouth, he felt a smidge better. The moist, cream-filled cake lit his taste receptors, causing them to dance with joy.

Primus, junk food always hits the spot when feeling down!

As soon as one little calcium cake was finished, fingertips were sucked clean, and another was pulled from the box. Bla/st O/ff cooed with each bite, optics slitting to half-moons as each treat was greedily devoured. Each swallow brought happiness to replace the fear. Each new cake unwrapped promised the excitement of such a pleasurable experience. Each time his maws sunk in, squishing pink cream around his lips, the ‘Co/n felt like he was in some kind of utopia.

This abruptly ended with his servo reaching into an empty box. The family-sized treats, which had previously been unopened, didn’t last very long. Licking his lips, Bla/st O/ff sighed and discarded the empty box. Thankfully, there was plenty more to choose from.

Box after box, the Cyber/tonian treats were devoured. While the pace slowed down, the shuttle continued to engorge himself on this unhealthy feast. His belly soon swelled, grumbling with being stuffed so full. Upon a painful spasm, Bla/st O/ff grimaced and rubbed a servo over the massive ball that sat upon his lap.

“Primus,” The Co/n stared at the aftermath of his binge. “I really overdid it this time…” Glancing around, he saw the evidence of his raid. Empty boxes and wrappers littered his berth and floor. His gestalt mates would surely be mad!

His belly gave a clench, and its owner whimpered. Pressure was building up just below his chest despite the rubbing. His abdomen felt extremely bloated as tightness kicked in. Suddenly, a loud gurgling noise trembled through his tummy. Bla/st O/ff clenched his optics shut as fingers desperately worked to soothe this angry beast!

“Ah….” Bla/st O/ff whined, feeling as if there was something stuck in his pipes. It slowly bubbled upwards, and no amount of swallowing could halt its progress. Unable to contain this anymore, a loud, echoing belch erupted.

“Bwwwoooorrrrrruuuuuggggghhhhhhhpppp!”

Prim/us, how undignified! However, his stomach felt better as it rumbled on his lap. He sighed, leaning back to relax before he had to clean up his room.

“Excuse you.” A voice called out, snapping the shuttle from his blissful state.

Bla/st O/ff, whipping his helm around, discovered On/slaught standing in his doorframe, staring at him.

Oh dear Prim/us, could this day get any worse? He tucked over himself, attempting to hide his gut from the other’s view. “O…On/slaught…. I…..” Dang, tears welled up in his optics as he felt his cheeks grow hot. “What…I… I’m so-“

The leader of the gestalt held up his hand, beckoning silence. His other hand raised, revealing a clear plastic container holding a geode-cheese cake. “I…thought you might like something sweet…”

Was that a hint of a smile appearing on On/slaught’s faceplates

#ahhh I forgot about this one #chubformers #blast off

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Here is the finished piece. Tried a new way of coloring- has its ups and downs. If Ai/d’s swooning now, just wait til Rat/Chet drops the data pad and has to pick it up….

#heehee #chubformers

[mr-miss-anonymous]

here is an animated run through of the mukbang art. I did have to shrink it to fit, so my apologies for lesser image quality.

#god I never get tired of staring at this #it’s sooo goooooood #chubformers #mukbang #drift

[mr-miss-anonymous]

Chubformers (SFW) drabble #14!

Character: Bombshell (G1)

Word count: 397

As expected of an Insecticon such as himself, Bombshell’s appetite was massive and hardly satisfied. His colony prided themselves on their voracious desire to feed, and feed he did—both on the minds of his victims and the latest sourced energon veins. What Bombshell hadn’t ever expected, however, was to find himself on the other end of a feeding gone wrong.

He was a high-class mech, of course, and reputation was everything. As such, being seen struggling to so much as lift himself up off of the ground was quite the embarrassment. Bombshell’s wings fluttered frantically behind his back, the poor Insecticon trapped by his own mass in his frame’s alt-mode. The feeding had been a good one, and as much as Bombshell had enjoyed indulging himself, he was beginning to realize that he may have taken it too far.

In the small, dimly lit cave, the sounds of his fellow Insecticons transforming back into their root modes filled the air. With each passing second Bombshell’s panic grew stronger, and before he could stop it, his frame had begun to give off the sour smell of distress. It was an unfortunate situation all around, and one he wished he could be free of.

Slowly at first, bots gathered to stop and stare at their fellow Con, confusion and concern audible in the low clicking of mandibles. The longer Bombshell struggled and strained, however, worry turned to amusement, and he was quickly seen as the night’s main source of entertainment.

“Don’t you laugh!” He hissed, his words drowned out by the buzz of his wings as he tried—and failed—to take flight. “Don’t you dare laugh!”

Demanding they ignore his predicament seemed to do little for him, however, and Bombshell’s frame burned with shame as a chorus of giggles echoed against the cave’s walls. Feeling defeated, he let himself slump to the floor, his bloated frame spilling out from between the seams of too-tight armor. The surrender only seemed to egg on his comrades, who in turn fell into an absolute uproar of laughter.

Primus, Bombshell thought, feeling both irritated and embarrassed by the whole ordeal. It hadn’t even felt like he’d overfueled at the time, and yet here he was. Grounded, filled to the brim, and trapped in his alt-mode by his own gluttony.

He just hoped no word of his unfortunate predicament reached Megatron’s ears.

#chubformers #g1 bombshell