#fat spy

[artoatsblog]

Sometimes you must have something ugly (light weapons guy) to have something beautiful (fat spy)

[itsaspen]

fat spy 🤤

i love fat spy so much people need to draw him

[sugarandspyce]

I love your art and the way you draw fat characters! If it's not too much of a hardship can you draw some more fat Spy? He's my favorite freak but nobody does anything with him.

Hi there! I'm so glad you enjoy my art of the mercs with a few extra pounds, I just find bigger bodies to be positively beautiful!

Here's your fat spy, and actually I'm so glad you requested this because I needed to draw him again anyway! Last time I drew him, he looked sickly - now though he's just out of breath because he's fat, old and a smoker. Nobody said sneaking around would be easy!

Also it's quite the coincidence because I actually got a hate anon recently say that they didn't like my fat spy, so seeing this message was a big uplifting wahah!

[hunterspy]

day 33

[artoatsblog]

I forgot fat spy, he got more handsome

okay everyone! lets play a game, if your f/o has early concept art / a beta design, reblog this showing them before and after! it'd be fun to see how everyone's loves changed over time! ill go first!

[influx-of-brainrot]

never meant to be a father

[horzagobuchul]

Could you do another Yor, but one where she doesn't get too big, maybe 75ish lbs slowly?

Of course!

Let me know if you enjoy this slow weight gain. Turns out part-timing at the donut store has its consequences...

[artoatsblog]

Fat spy's canon proportions are lovey

[artoatsblog]

Fat spy please?

I am bored so reblog this and I'll assign your F/O a Lady Gaga song that fits their vibe (based on looks and vibes I get from them.) 🙏🙏

I'll give some examples from my own F/Os

Albert Wes/ker - Disease

James Sun/derland - 911

Fox Mu/lder - Sine From Above

[sugarandspyce]

Fat spy... I love him so so much.. maybe I should make an OC.. I got the idea from @itsaspen so please go check them out. (Talking to my 3 followers LMAOO)

[kahzthesick]

HEAVY PEN DRAWINGS + IG REQUESTS‼️

[artoatsblog]

Soldier is a paterodic war criminal who loves yelling and has the IQ of a rock

Fat spy (I call him rain) is a arrogant yet somehow insecure man who is rather annoying at times and has a incredible sense of style

F/O REBLOG GAME YAY

hi hi im autistic about orchestral music so… reblog with an f/o (1 - 2 max please!) and i’ll assign them an orchestral song and a recording i like! please tell me a little bit about them too.. if you’d like it helps

for example

For Shiraishi, I give him Folk Dances — Dmitri Shostakovich.

please dni if you f/o any of my non sharing or selective sharing f/o’s!

[h0estar]

martha, dearie, you are so strong. i love you so so so much ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ

[nartagetic]

[snufkins-boot]

Dc x dp idea: Danny truly is Talia’s son.

The Wayne’s have only had Danny with them for a few months, getting him away from Illinois and the GIW. Naturally being themselves they immediately notice Danny has a stalker.

Use who you want I’m saying Wes because it’s in character.

No one takes kindly to this ginger weirdo stalking their new little brother, least of all Damian who’s only just got his twin back. He’s livid.

Then Danny just stalks the guy back?? Like several photos on his phone, alt accounts to check his socials, always knows his location kinda stalking? And when asked Sam and Tucker are so chill about it?

“Hm? Oh yeah, that’s Wes, I’m pretty sure the stalking is flirting.”

And that sets of immediate bells in everyone’s head as they realise that Danny just flirts like his mother. They’re still gonna shovel talk Wes though.

[horzagobuchul]

The next step in the Yor story~

A few more months had passed, and Yor's visits to the little cake shop had become a daily ritual that the entire town noticed. Her once athletic and muscular physique was now a distant memory. With each indulgent slice, she had grown larger, reaching a point where movement was a significant effort. It was obvious to everyone that she was now morbidly obese, her BMI soaring to levels that made even the plus-size clothing stores struggle to accommodate her.

As she waddled down the street toward the cake shop, her pace was slow and labored. Each step required effort; her muscles strained under the weight they were not accustomed to bearing. Her breathing was heavy, and her heart pounded with the exertion. The fabric of her dress, the largest size available, clung tightly to her body and persistently rode up, forcing her to pause frequently to adjust it and prevent unwanted exposure. Her bulky belly rested heavily against her thighs, and when she sat, it settled lazily onto her lap, a constant reminder of how much she'd changed.

The townspeople had started to whisper, referring to her as "the lady who eats cake by herself in the park." Children giggled as she passed by, and adults exchanged knowing glances. The gossip didn't escape her notice, adding a layer of embarrassment to her already complex emotions. Yet, despite the social stigma and the challenges her size presented, there was a part of her that felt a sense of accomplishment. She had, in a way, achieved a goal—even if it was one she hadn't set consciously.

Entering the cake shop, the bell above the door chimed softly. The shopkeeper looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he composed himself with a polite smile. "Good afternoon, Yor," he greeted her.

"Good afternoon," she replied, her voice tinged with both shyness and anticipation. "I'd like to purchase that large birthday cake, please."

He hesitated for a moment. "Is it a special occasion?"

She shook her head lightly, causing a subtle ripple through her body. "No, just… felt like treating myself."

"Of course," he said, carefully boxing up the cake. As he handed it over, she noticed the slight strain in his arms from the weight of the sizable confection.

Leaving the shop, Yor made her way to the familiar bench in the park. The short journey left her winded; her breathing was labored, and a sheen of perspiration dotted her forehead. Sitting down with a relieved sigh, she felt the bench accommodate her weight, the wooden slats creaking softly beneath her. Her body visibly relaxed, the strain of standing alleviated.

Opening the cake box, she gazed at the intricate decorations—the swirls of frosting, the delicate icing flowers. A rush of endorphins flooded her system as she took the first bite. The rich, sweet flavors ignited her senses, providing a momentary escape from the complexities of her reality. Each mouthful brought both comfort and a fleeting sense of joy, the physical act of eating intertwining with a deeper emotional satisfaction.

Despite consuming the entire cake, she didn't feel uncomfortably full—a consequence of months spent overeating. Her appetite had expanded along with her body, and satiety was a feeling she rarely experienced fully. As she finished the last slice, a mixture of contentment and guilt settled over her. She was acutely aware of how far she'd let herself go, yet there was a peculiar solace in having surrendered to her desires.

Is this truly what I wanted? she pondered, gazing at the empty box. The thought of needing assistance for daily tasks loomed on the horizon. Her mobility was already severely limited; simple actions required significant effort, and she knew that if this continued, she might soon be unable to care for herself independently.

As Yor attempted to stand from the bench, she felt an overwhelming heaviness anchoring her in place. It took considerable effort to lift herself, her muscles straining and her breath growing shallow. Finally on her feet, she paused to steady herself, aware that even this simple act had become a significant challenge. Her body, once a finely tuned instrument of agility and strength, was now burdened beyond its limits.

Walking slowly toward Anya's school, each step was a deliberate effort. Her thighs rubbed together continuously, and her now-prominent belly swayed with every movement. The whispers and stares from passersby were impossible to ignore. Children pointed, and adults exchanged glances, the town gossip echoing in her mind: "There goes the lady who eats cake by herself in the park."

A profound realization settled over Yor. I've crossed a line I can't uncross, she thought. I'll never be thin again. The acknowledgment was a mixture of resignation and a strange sense of relief. She had been wrestling with her desires for so long, the constant push and pull between restraint and indulgence. Now, the struggle seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a quiet acceptance of her new reality.

She knew that her life would be different now. Everyday tasks had become arduous; even the plus-size stores were struggling to accommodate her needs. The prospect of needing assistance for simple activities loomed on the horizon. Yet, amid the embarrassment and the social stigma, there was a certain solace in letting go. She had surrendered to her desires, and in doing so, found a twisted sense of accomplishment.

Reaching the school gates, Yor saw Anya running toward her with open arms. "Mama!" Anya exclaimed, hugging her as tightly as she could. Yor felt the softness of her own body enveloping her daughter, a tangible sign of how much she'd changed.

"You're so cozy," Anya giggled, her eyes full of innocent joy.

Yor managed a genuine smile. "I'm glad you think so, Anya."

As they walked home at a leisurely pace, Anya chattered about her day, unaware of her mother's inner turmoil. Yor listened, but her thoughts drifted. She understood that she had become a slave to her desires, her life now dictated by the very impulses she once tried to control. The realization was both humbling and daunting.

That evening, settling into her chair required careful maneuvering. The furniture creaked under her weight, and once seated, she felt an immense relief. Looking across the table, she met Loid's gaze. His eyes revealed little—no judgment, no pity, just a neutral acknowledgment. Whether his silence was out of respect or indifference, she couldn't tell. But she knew now that seeking his approval was secondary to facing herself.

As dinner progressed, Yor felt a mixture of emotions: regret for the path she'd taken, but also a resigned acceptance of where she was. She had crossed a boundary from which there was no easy return. The possibility of reclaiming her former self seemed distant, if not impossible. And perhaps that was okay.