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#...not that I WANT to keep growing

inkskinned · 1 year

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the rise of AI art isn't surprising to us. for our entire lives, the attitude towards our skills has always been - that's not a real thing. it has been consistently, repeatedly devalued.

people treat art - all forms of it - as if it could exist by accident, by rote. they don't understand how much art is in the world. someone designed your home. someone designed the sign inside of your local grocery store. when you quote a character or line from something in media, that's a line a real person wrote.

"i could do that." sure, but you didn't. there's this joke where a plumber comes over to a house and twists a single knob. charges the guy 10k. the guy, furious, asks how the hell the bill is so high. the plumber says - "turning the knob was a dollar. the knowledge is the rest of the money."

the trouble is that nobody believes artists have knowledge. that we actively study. that we work hard, beyond doing our scales and occasionally writing a poem. the trouble is that unless you are already framed in a museum or have a book on a shelf or some kind of product, you aren't really an artist. hell, because of where i post my work, i'll never be considered a poet.

the thing that makes you an artist is choice. the thing that makes all art is choice. AI art is the fetid belief that art is instead an equation. that it must answer a specific question. Even with machine learning, AI cannot make a choice the way we can - because the choices we make have always been personal, complicated. our skills cannot be confined to "prompt and execution." what we are "solving" isn't just a system of numbers - it is how we process our entire existence. it isn't just "2 and 2 is 4", it's staring hard at the numbers and making the four into an alligator. it's rearranging the letters to say ow and it is the ugly drawing we make in the margin.

at some point, you will be able to write something by feeding my work into a machine. it will be perfectly legible and even might sound like me. but a machine doesn't understand why i do these things. it can be taught preferences, habits, statistical probability. it doesn't know why certain vowels sound good to me. it doesn't know the private rules i keep. it doesn't know how to keep evolving.

"but i want something to exist that doesn't exist yet." great. i'm glad you feel creative. go ahead and pay a fucking artist for it.

this is all saying something we all already knew. the sad fucking truth: we have to die to remind you. only when we're gone do we suddenly finally fucking mean something to you. artists are not replicable. we each genuinely have a skill, talent, and process that makes us unique. and there's actual quiet power in everything we do.

#also pay plumbers more. and electricians. and other devalued occupations #idk that this makes sense #but im like #people being so fucking pleased with themselves about the fact they can ''fake'' art #n im like #sure #but what if we stop making things for you huh #what if we stop giving u this stuff anymore #what happens to ur ai art? does it keep growing? does it keep making choices?#why do u need to see us as machines?#''i want X to exist but i don't have the skill to do it''#okay spend literally years of your life studying #''i don't want to do that''#okay pay someone who DID do that #''no i don't think it's a real skill''#okay so. YOU can't do it. and a LOT of people can't do it. but you think WE should be able to?#FOR FREE?#either it has value or it dont baby make up ur OWN mind #btw studying here is not used academically. i think if ur like. constantly knitting.#thats studying #do u spend hours reading and find urself taking notes and learning about writing #ur studying #do you follow other artists and spend a lot of your time trying new things (even unsuccessfully)#that's also studying #etc #was weird to write this thing about choices and then be like. wait why DO i like that

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ihatemakingusernames · 3 months

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I think it's cute how people have these goal weights. Like "oh I'll get to 450 and then I'll stop." No you won't. Honestly, you've spent so much time utterly destroying any healthy habit you've ever had and you think once the scale hits a specific number you can just stop? That's not how this works. Sure, sure you can try and eat healthy, you can try and exercise but, do you realize how much willpower it takes to actually lose weight? Or in your case, to maintain? You've spent all this time increasing your capacity, literally stretching your stomach out to grow this big and you think your greedy ass can just stop? I don't think so. You can try... Go ahead, but you'll likely fail time and time again. If it was that easy to lose weight we'd all be thin at one point or another.

#i want to make you grow #grow for me #feedee encouragement #weight gain kink #fatty getting fatter #gaining weight on purpose #ffa #female fat admirer #female feeder #keep eating #keep growing #fat #fatass #lardass #pig #piggy #eat up fatty #feeder feedee

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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I'm in A Mood™ (stressed) so im going back to my roots of melting two character together into one person. So bruce wayne!danny fenton. Danny Fenton who, for eight years, grew up in a beautiful gothic manor with his mom and dad under the name "Bruce Wayne". Playing piano with his mother, running around the manor with his father.

Then when he's eight it's ripped away from him. There's blood on his hands and pearls pooling at his feet, and both his parents are dead in front of him.

And he gets shipped off to distant relatives "the Fentons" shortly after, Alfred close on his heels because someone needs to take care of him, someone that knows him. Bruce goes to the Fentons for the safety of anonymity. Gotham's press wants to sink its teeth into him.

Danny misses his city even if it took everything from him. There are shadows in his eyes and he's pale as a sheet even beside his distant cousins, and they change his name to "Danny Fenton' because nobody should know that their newest child was illustrious orphan Bruce Wayne.

They call him Bruce behind closed doors. Danny prefers it that way, he clings onto the name -- the one his parents gave him -- like a lifeline. He makes friends with Sam and Tucker. Tucker takes one look at the willowy, morbid little boy standing in the corner like a shade, ghosts in his eyes, and drags him out into the sunlight, and takes him over to Sam.

When Danny is twelve, he's still not over it -- and he's a little obsessed with the Fentons' research, with the morbid. He has books upon books on death, murder, detective work. Anything he can get his hands on. And stars. He loves stars.

Alfred owns the apartment next to them and comes over regularly. Danny clings to him.

When Danny is twelve, he's still quiet, meek, a shy little thing prone to being bullied. Freaky little Fenton with the night in his eyes and too-cold skin even before he put one foot in the grave. in a sleepover in his room with Sam and Tucker, he tells them the truth. They're his friends, he trusts them.

"My name is Bruce." he murmurs, voice quiet as the breeze, always quiet. he's staring at his star-covered sheets.

"Like Bruce Wayne?" Tucker asks, a joking tone in his voice.

Danny smiles a little, lamb-like with insecurity. "I am Bruce Wayne." And he takes them down to the lab, disrupting Maddie and Jack, to prove it. Sam tells them of her own wealth then shortly after. They start calling Danny "Bruce" in private too -- its trust. Thats what it is. It's trust.

Sam goes to media functions and comes back with aching feet and complaints on her tongue -- and Danny soaks it up all like a sponge, splayed across a beanbag chair with Tucker in her room. He's not envious of her, he used to go to events with his parents and they kept him safe from the ugly of Gotham's Elite. For the most part. He's had comments made at him, he doesn't miss them.

Alfred returns to the manor semi-regularly, Danny goes with him. he wanders the hallways and helps Alfred clean, the last thing either of them want is for their home to fall into disrepair. He brings Jazz with him next time, then Tucker, then Sam. They all help him clean, and he shows them his room. The one across from his parents', it feels strange.

When Danny dies when he's fourteen, the first adult he tells is Alfred. He and Jazz go over to his house more often than they stay in the Fentonworks building. At least at Alfred's, the food doesn't come to life. Alfred sits at the kitchen table and weeps when Danny tells him, Jazz is upstairs, and its just the two of them.

Danny's ghost form wears pearls around his wrist and the gloves look stained with some kind of black substance. He looks like a child who died in a lab accident, but he also looks like a child who has shadows dripping off his shoulders, curling at his feet, hanging from his eyes.

because amorphous blob batman has my heart always and danny/bruce will not escape it even in death even if that IS the only reason im giving him Mild BatBlob Vibes...so far

when they go to the manor, alfred helps danny make a pile of stones between Martha and Thomas' graves, nobody but the two of them (and sam and tucker) will know what it means. (not even bruce's children later down the line, not for a long, long time)

danny dives into ghost fighting on shaky feet and not half as witty as he once was in one world. he's skittish, skittering between blasts from shadow to shadow and clumsily making his way through each battle. but helping people lights a fire in him. he still has shadows dripping off his feet but there's a purpose in his eyes.

and god help him, he's going to help people.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc prompt #this is just me torturing danny for a little bit because im stressed and i cried for an hour while i was driving so im taking it out on B #thanks for being my little stress ball danny #aha my old middle school habit of frankensteining two characters together is resurfacing again :) yall should've seen my wattpad drafts #in middle school. i had 50 of them and most of them were me combining two characters together to make one person and putting them in one au #my most memorable being skydoesminecraft and harry potter. THAT was a fun worldbuilding experience #do i think that growing up with the fentons would fix bruce/danny completely?? hurm. no. dont kid yallselves jazz is not a licensed #therapist not even at like. nine when she meets danny. she's not helping him through his trauma in the slightest. she's nagging.#she's his sister or sister-like figure before she's his therapist. would he be #*entirely* like canon bruce tho?? no. dannybruce is a mix of the both of them. but this is still the first post of the au and is more so #just me doing the equivalent of popping a stress ball so nothing is smoothed over. mostly im just trying to keep bruce's trauma prominent i #danny's character because he IS Bruce. i dont want him to just be 'danny with bruce's backstory but without any of the ugly bits'.#danny and bruce is used interchangeably because they're the same person but sorry if his personality feels imbalanced i came up with this o #the spot. was going to type more but the stress has left me. for now. watch ur back danny 👀

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kallietell · 5 months

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A Little Extra Room

Justin clearly wants Trixie fatter, and her willpower is far too weak to resist. He takes advantage of it, forcing her to eat more and more while she grows larger and larger.

“Just two more bites,” Justin murmured, excitement leaching into the borders of his words. “You can do it baby, you're doing so good. Just open up your mouth again…good girl.”

Trixie groaned as she slowly chewed, head thrown back and eyes wrenched tightly shut as both hands rubbed her taut, overfilled gut. She forced a swallow then groaned louder, her bulging stomach rising and falling dramatically as she breathed heavily. Her moans had reached a fever pitch and she whimpered and whined, too full to even speak. “One more,” said Justin in a near whisper, eyes locked onto the groaning, bloated woman. She opened her mouth to protest but burped loudly instead. Giving her gut a couple of weak pats she burped again, only to have Justin gently grab a side roll and give it a few wobbling bounces, forcing a cacophony of burps and moans out of her food smeared lips.

“Look at you baby, god. Just one more bite,” he repeated breathlessly. “No.” Trixie whined, still making circles on her overfed gut. “No, I can't. I can't, I'm too full.”

“It’s ok baby,” promised Justin, reassuringly, picking up the fork with the remaining bite of cake. Crumbs were the only remnant of the grocery store sheet cake, and one glance at the scene would make it obvious where it had gone. “No,” protested Trixie weakly as he brought the fork up to her mouth. He grabbed her by the side roll again, shaking and jiggling her aggressively as she groaned again, feeling herself wobble. Justin gave her belly a hard slap and she let out a raucous burp, nearly embarrassed by how loud it was. “Good girl,” he praised gently, rubbing the spot he’d just slapped. “Now you have more room.” He brought the fork to her lips again and she opened her mouth obligingly, moaning slightly as she chewed the last of the sugary sweet confection.

“Good girl,” said Justin, making no effort to conceal how his words dripped with lust. “That’s my big girl. You’re getting so huge, aren’t you?” Trixie groaned in response, her chubby hands planted firmly on her gut as she whined. “Aren’t you,” Justin repeated, smacking her gut again at its right, rounded top. She burped again then resumed her groaning, too full to even sit up.

“God, look at you. You look like a beached whale, your blubber is spilling out everywhere.” He gave her fatty belly a pinch and she burped again, unexpectedly this time. “You sound like such a pig,” he teased, both hands finding their way to her overstretched gut. “You look like one too. God you’re so fat.” He gets closer, applying more pressure as he wobbles her gut harder and harder. She moans in protest, burping louder and louder as Justin shook her gut more and more roughly.

“Look at all this,” he marveled. “Look at how much I can grab. You’ve really let yourself go haven’t you? You’ve lost control.” Trixie moans in response but Justin shakes his head, pushing her further backwards into her couch as he squeezes her plush fat.

“I said,” he began, kneading her fat as she cried out from the pressure, “you’ve lost control. Haven’t you?” He gives her gut another firm slap. “Haven’t you?” Justin laughs as Trixie nods through her burp. “Come on, use your words piggy,” he instructs. “Have you lost control?” “Yes,” breathed Trixie desperately, both hands again rubbing her globular gut.

“Yea,” Justin affirmed in a low voice husky with desire. “Little out of control piggy. Stuffed so fat that you can’t even move. Seriously Trixie, look at all this.” He’d begun to wobble her gut slowly again and her entire fattened body shook from the movement, her plump tits bouncing up and down as they nearly escaped the tiny crop top she wore. Her thick arms and plush chubby thighs also jiggled along, the newly swelled fat all over her body shaking as one.

“You fucking whale,” Justin mummered, barely audibly as he gazed down at her hungrily. “You big fat pig, you bloated fucking pig.” Trixie’s eyes were closed now and she’d resumed her groaning, too full to do much else. “Stay right there, just like that.” He reached for his belt buckle with one hand, the other still glued to Trixie’s swollen gut. “Just like that. I’m gonna take care of you baby.”

The next day, Trixie awoke to the smell of bacon. She sighed. She wasn’t sure exactly how long Justin had been up, but smelling bacon was never a good sign when it came to him, especially after a night like last night. She stretched, rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, then yawned. No matter how much sleep she got after one of Justin’s ‘dinner parties’, she was always still exhausted the next day, swollen and tender from how much food she’d packed in (among other things). Justin was always energetic afterwards, in a great mood, but she would be lethargic for the next week.

She surprised herself by letting out a burp, then she flushed. Her hand dropped to her stomach and she started, taken aback by how far her hand sunk into her own plushness. Her gut bulged out further than it ever had when she was stuffed, but instead of firm and taut her rounded belly bounced and wobbled at just a touch. Oh god, she thought, sinking her fingers into her fat as she investigated her newly plumped body. How much damage did he do last night, she wondered absentmindedly as she played with her wobbling rolls. How many calories was that cake?

She swung her feet over the side of the bed and stood up with effort, cringing as she noted how long it took her fleshy body to stop jiggling at the movement. She was completely naked, the previous evening's clothes tossed somewhere around the living room, and each step she took emphasized her weight. The swell of her belly shook and bounced as she plodded to the bathroom, and her ass wobbled cumbersomely behind her, nearly uncontrollable. She looked at herself in the mirror, pausing a beat before her hands fell to her gut for a second time. Things were really getting out of hand. She stared back at the fattened version of herself in the mirror, gripping her fat in disbelief.

Her face had swollen to a moon shape and her chubby cheeks had exploded with fat, squeezing her eyes into a smaller shape that peered out from a face framed by double chins. Her neck had nearly disappeared in a ring of fat and wobbled when she shook her head or chewed. She was unrecognizable, a fact that had been confirmed when she ran into an old friend from college who’d struggled to believe that the bloated tub in front of her was the once thin Trixie. Her body had fared no better, and she sported thick swollen arms hanging with fat, pudgy, inflated tits that sagged and bulged out of her bras, and most prominently, a porky, tubby beer gut that refused to succumb to gravity. The more she put on the more it bulged forward, and she was beginning to have a hard time buckling her seatbelt when Justin drove her to get more fast food.

He’d grown rock hard the first time he saw her struggle with that, speeding home to shove burgers down her throat until she was ready to pop while he moaned about how sexy she was. She couldn’t contain her gut in any of her clothes anymore, instead allowing it to hang out of the bottom in a way that drove Justin wild, enticing him to slap the exposed flesh and make it jiggle.

She sighs again, lifting her gut with two hands before releasing it with a plop. She felt it bounce, her entire middle shaking rhythmically. She was getting huge. Everything Justin was saying was right. Just the other day she’d burst out of her shorts while he fed her, the only time he’d ever ended a feeding prematurely to fuck her right then and there. She’d still been required to finish her food afterwards though, and Justin had been so gentle as he shoved in bite after bite, feeding her well into the morning. Her capacity was increasing, and even though she wanted to try and conceal it from him for her own sake, Justin knew. He’d been pushing her to her limits more and more later, and it was beginning to show. She was exploding. Every time Justin fed her she woke up feeling, and looking, much larger. It had to be her imagination, she couldn’t put on that much weight in one night, but the bloat never disappeared, swelling more and more with each greasy session.

She turned around, inspecting her widened, wobbling ass. This was the only reason she’d agreed to try this in the first place, she’d always wanted to be thick, and her wish had been more than granted. Her enormous, shelf ass wobbled dramatically whenever she walked, her thick thighs rubbing as she forced them past one another. Justin was obsessed, constantly smacking it sharply just to watch it ripple. Trixie took a step back. She could barely take herself in the mirror anymore, she was getting too wide. She pinched her belly, then sighed once more. Breakfast time.

She waddled to her closet to grab a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, wondering what Justin had prepared today as she turned sideways to slide her way into the narrow closet door. It had always been a tight squeeze, even when she was a size 4, but now she could barely work her way inside. She sucked in, pushing in her belly with her hands for extra room, then forced her way through the doors narrow frame sideways. The first time Justin had seen that little maneuver he’d taken her right there in the closet, not even bothering to grab a few boxes of Oreos to stuff her with first.

She grabbed a pair of XXL shorts that had grown one ‘X’ too small and stepped into them, her bulging round gut acting as an obstacle as always. She got the pants over her thighs after some resistance, then sucked in with all her might and yanked the waistband over her lower belly. The fabric creaked but stayed, and Trixie gently let out her belly in relief, trying not to dwell on how large its natural shape expanded as it swelled forward. Pants on, she turned to the problem of a shirt. Her belly refused to hang, instead protruding further and further outwards, which meant no shirt could be yanked down to cover its swell. She settled for T-shirt’s that wore more like crop tops nowadays, and let her plump, tubby gut round out unencumbered. She pulls down the shirt anyways, watching as it sprang back up immediately, then waddled out of the closet. Despite herself, she was hungry.

When she reached the kitchen Justin greeted her cheerily without turning, still focused on the mountain of pancakes he’d been constructing while she slept. “How’d you sleep?” he asked as she shuffled towards the kitchen chair. “Fine,” she replies lightly, dropping into the armless chair heavily as it creaked to make its protests known.

“You were so fucking sexy last night,” Justin reminisced wistfully. “So fucking sexy, he begins, turning to her. I…” he pauses as he catches sight of her, his breath hitching in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Trixie asks with sincerity, alarmed by the expression in his face.

“You…look huge,” marveled Justin in awe.

“Justin…” Trixie started, attempting to assuage him, but Justin couldn’t be deterred. “God, you look like you put on 20 pounds just last night, I’ve never seen you look so…fat.” He dropped the spatula and took a few steps towards her, the pancake browning on the stove forgotten.

“Stand up.” He instructed, and Trixie did as she was told, knowing it would be easier than letting him convince her. He poked her belly gently, pressing his finger deep into the swells of fat on her side rolls, then grabbed the lowest one firmly and gave her belly a series of hard wobbles. “What have you done to yourself?” he whispered, clearly growing more and more excited as he fondled her gut. “You're bursting out of those clothes,” he gloated with a grin, smacking the overtaxed shorts that her belly and ass were stretching paper thin. “I always am,” Trixie replied with an eye roll.

“Not like this,” murmured Justin in a near whisper. “You’re getting so fat.”

He grabbed her belly with both hands and pulled her near, Trixie feeling against her upper stomach just how excited he was by the way her shirt was fitting. “You’re getting so fucking fat,” he repeated, shaking her more aggressively now. “You’re so fucking fat. God, just look at yourself.” He smacks her gut, admiring the syncopation of its jiggles. “Look at all this. Look at yourself.”

By the time he’d started talking like this, it was already too late. He was going to feed her again, another little dinner party, except this one was at 10 in the morning. Justin usually only started his lustful, excessive sessions at night, but he had been overfeeding her during the day more and more often recently.

“Sit down,” he says with a point, and Trixie obliges soundlessly, knowing resistance was futile. Justin brings over a platter laden with bacon, two plates stacked high with pancakes, a plate of hash browns, a plate of sausage, and a gallon of orange juice.

“Justin,” she warned, her hands already resting on her stomach as if feeling its upcoming pangs of fullness. “Justin, I’m really not hungry.”

“Even better,” he replies casually, pouring half a bottle of syrup on the first stack of fluffy, golden brown discs. “Eat up.”

He hands her a fork and Trixie surveys the scene miserably, feeling her empty gut press into the table despite how far back she’s scooted her chair.

“You know you want it, fatty,” came Justin's voice floating into her ear. “You need it, don’t you?” He asked coyly, watching the expression on her face shift near imperceptibly as he pushed the plate closer to her. “Go ahead big girl. I know you can barely stop yourself.”

The mouth watering aroma became too much and Trixie relented, first shoving two pieces of bacon into her mouth greedily before also cramming in a massive bite of pancakes, the syrup dripping from her lips.

“Fuck Trixie,” Justin breathed. She hunkered down and began to eat with abandon, shirking her fork in favor of fingers quickly becoming sticky with syrup. She crammed bacon into her mouth by the threes, folding her pancakes so she could get the whole circle in her mouth at once. She paused, burped loudly, then dove back in, temporarily foregoing her bacon to scarf down the entire plates of hash browns and sausages in just a few moments.

“Keep going baby,” Justin cooed, beginning to trace gentle circles across her rapidly bloating gut. “Don’t stop.”

Trixie couldn’t stop if she’d wanted to, and despite her earlier complaints in the mirror she ate like a woman possessed, greasy and sticky hands easing burps out of her overstuffed gut while her breathing got heavier and heavier. She completed the first stack of pancakes and was now working on the second, the reminder of the syrup bottle upended over them. Her face was becoming a mess and her fatty chins were slick with syrup and bacon grease. She grabbed two more syrupy pancakes, folded them, and attempted to shove both in her mouth, her cheeks bulging and rippling as she tried to chew while forcing even more into her greedy face.

Another few handfuls of bacon and the once towering platter was beginning to run low, the remainder of the greasy meat sticky with the syrup her hands were coated in. She doubled down, alternating between massive bites of pancake and savory swallows of bacon, her gut swelling impossibly round and forcing her chair even further back from the table. Justin was watching in awe, face contorting into an lust drunk expression that bordered on the painful as his jeans grew tighter and tighter like Trixie’s gut. His hands were back on her body now, and she felt her belly being jiggled, wobbled, and shaken as she packed in bite after bite, feeling the swell and breathing deeper as her fat gut stretched tighter and tighter.

Just as she reached for the last pancake, slowing down a bit as the calories began to catch up to her, Justin muttered “Fuck,” and jumped out of his seat, heading towards the oven. She groaned then burped at the effort of turning her head, barely able to see what the urgency was.

Justin had taken the final, scorched pancake off of the stove and was now opening the oven to a decadent, sickeningly sweet smell to which Trixie was well accustomed. His famous cinnamon rolls, famous not only for their incredible taste, but also for the unbelievable amount Trixie can put away. She whimpers at the smell of the rolls then shoves the last pancake into her mouth anyway, syrup dripping down her chin. Justin sets them to cool then crosses the kitchen back to her, hands already extended to grip her impossibly fattened gut.

“You’re such a good girl,” he encouraged, beginning to rub slow circles on her distended gut. “You were hungry, weren’t you?” Trixie ignores him, continuing to moan, and he slaps her gut forcefully for the infraction. Trixies groaned then let loose an enormous burp, face flushing.

“I asked you if you were hungry Trixie,”said Justin once more, a wild look dancing behind his eyes. “Yes,” Trixie panted in between heavy breaths, attempting to lean back in the too small chair to relieve some pressure from her growing gut.

“You’re still hungry, aren’t you?” Justin informed her, no hint of a question behind his intonation.

“Justin no, no,” Trixie begged, squirming as she attempted to shift herself forward again. “No, I can't.”

Justin rubbed her gut lovingly, playfully kneading its rounded top. “Yes you can. You want to.”

“No!” she whined in a near yell.

Justin smacked her gut for her outburst, forcing a series of deep burps out of her mouth. She groaned as he rubbed her expansive belly, muttering comforting words before smacking her gut again, leaving her wobbling and burping while he went to grab the icing glazed rolls.

“Now,” He says on his return, setting the pan down on the table. “Are you hungry?”

Trixie was the picture of gluttony, absolutely beached in the chair by her massive, spherical gut that dwarfed the rest of her tubby body. She leaned her head forward with effort, rubbing her stretched gut fruitlessly.

“Trixie,” says Justin, taking a firmer grip on the bottom of her porky belly. “I asked you a question. Are you hungry?”

Trixie nodded listlessly and Justin began to shove the still warm rolls into her mouth with abandon, smearing cinnamon sugar and icing all over her face. Her plump lips opened again and again for more, moaning nonstop now as her belly slipped out of shorts and bulged free, her stretch mark covered love handles oozing over the back waistband. Her T-shirt was like a bra, and she noted with horror that even the sleeves were starting to cut into her chubby arms.

Her belly surged further and further forward, and Justin couldn’t keep his left hand off her while his right hand forced the rolls into her face faster and faster. “You’re so fucking fat,” he was saying, kneading the still pliable rolls as he filled her.”You're getting so fat.” The pan was nearing its end now, and Justin fed her even faster, cramming her cheeks until they were about to pop. She swallowed the massive bites with effort, her mind completely empty as Justin forced her further and further over her limit.

Trixie swallowed the last bite then burped loudly, gripping her gut with both hands.

“Look at you,” Justin choked out after a moment, his voice betraying his desire. “You’re such a fucking pig. Look at what you’ve done to yourself.”

Trixie was so full she’d begun to hiccup, and the alternating hiccups and burps made her jiggle slightly as she lay back in the chair, trying to catch her breath. “I *hic* didn't,” she responded laboriously. “You did this to me.”

Justin didn’t say a word, instead standing silently and reaching both hands toward her.

“Justin, I can’t get up right now, I can't,” she whined, drawing out the word. “Yes you can,” said Justin calmly. “I’m gonna take you to the bedroom, come back and get the whipped cream, and then you’re gonna show me exactly how you got to be such a fat, greedy piggy.”

She groaned again and Justin smacked her gut, eliciting her loudest, deepest burp of the day.

“There,” he said, watching her continue to wobble. “Now you have a little extra room.”

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nico-di-genova · 11 days

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THIS Charles doing the kart maintenance for

THIS Arthur 🥹

Baby engineer! Charles taking apart Arthur’s whole kart just to see how it all works. Arthur being so excited to get to hang out with Charles while he works on it. I have to lay on the floor.

#Charles finding his love for the technical side of motorsports through helping his brother #yeah…everytime I think of it it makes me want to cry a little #meanwhile max growing up watching Charles work and being like 😡😡😡#because he’s pissed Charles is still in his circle of existence #but also he hates that Charles looks kind of cute when he’s got grease smeared across his cheek #keep to the line #engineer!charles #kttl lore

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quietwingsinthesky · 3 months

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once again. i am thinking about an alternate end of time ending where the master joins up with the doctor on the tardis, but now specifically, an au where the doctor still ends up regenerating and crashlanding in amy's backyard. au where the doctor doesn't show up 12 years late because two timelords piloting a tardis is (marginally) better than one, and now amelia pond is going on adventures in time and space in the care of the two least qualified being in the history of the universe to take care of a seven year old.

#an amy pond who grows up on the tardis would be a terrifying thing indeed.#i dont know if its funnier if the master doesnt regenerate too and now every time they show up in the modern day dozens of tabloids get #pictures of him and the doctor going 'FORMER DISGRACED PRIME MINISTER SPOTTED? GAY??? SECRET SCOTTISH DAUGHTER???'#the picture is eleven leading the way while a very disgruntled master gives amy a piggyback ride (if he doesn't she'll start biting again)#on the other hand. if the master regenerates into missy that's just as funny. evil mary poppins to raise amy.#doctor who #local bastard who keeps trying to destroy the world reluctantly fond of feral ginger child they picked up. still wants to destroy the world #but not before amelia gets to go out for ice cream first.

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minty364 · 7 months

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DPXDC Prompt #58

Gotham is a city with a lot of ambient ectoplasm, enough that the Fentons move here instead of Amity Park. Danny being a pretty smart kid being the son of 2 scientists gets a scholarship to Gotham academy where he makes friends with Tim and Damian. Well the 2 were only doing it at first because they wanted to keep an eye on them scientists rarely didn’t become rouges in Batman’s gallery so can you really blame them for being cautious?

Danny is telling them about the portal that they were trying to build and how it wasn’t working and how Danny felt guilty about it. The 3 venture down there when the parents are gone and Danny wearing his hazmat goes into the portal while the other 2 watch on. Danny trips and no one’s having a good time.

They decided to take Danny to Wayne manor until they can figure out what exactly happened to him, unfortunately Danny’s new powers act up and he winds up phasing through the floor into the basement… or more accurately the Bat cave.

#dp x dc prompt #dp x dc #dc x dp #danny fenton #danny phantom #Danny and Jazz grow up in Gotham #Danny gets his powers in front of Damian and Tim #now they’re all traumatized #Does it count as character death if it’s Danny?#I’ve always thought if you describe it at all then yes #I’ve never told anyone in my life how much I love Danny Phantom so absolutely no one knows it’s my favorite show #Like even my mom and I tell her almost everything #All my prompts are free for everyone to use #My goal in life is to spread creativity #I also want more DPXDC fanfics so that’s why I started this #My asks are still open btw #Bruce definitely approved Danny’s scholarship just to keep an eye on him

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