July 2024 Sketches: Wilford and Crash Bandicoot

For this month, our two runner-ups are Wilford Wolf with a fuller figure, and Crash getting one massive power-up. Enjoy!

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Wilford had been "suffering" under his werewolf curse for a long time, now— the full moon took what was a lanky, geeky, awkward wolf, and turned him into an absolute stud— a towering, beefy exemplar of romance and masculinity, much to Minerva Mink's, and many others, delight. But then, tonight wasn't just another full moon, it was a full Blue Moon. Wilford wasn't certain what to expect, but it wasn't… this.

The formerly hunky wolf had ballooned into an enormous, parade balloon-sized parody of himself, with reams of fat that were the consistency of dough, thick, pliable reams of fat that rolled all over his frame. His gigantic avalanche of a belly was one burger away from dragging on the floor, and billowed out in all directions. It was supported by blubbery, trunk-sized legs, matched by a rear so immense and bulbous, he was forced into a shuffling waddle or be forced off balance just by the rolling momentum of his own butt cheeks.

And yet, Wilford wore all that immense weight shockingly well. His thick, heavy proportions were rubenesque, full, plump, and hearty. His confidence was slowly returning to him as the shock faded, and he could still feel all that hefty muscle, buried somewhere under the heavy layers of blubber he had suddenly acquired. When he appeared on Minerva's door step, he had to lean against a tree, as he daren't try and squeeze through her door, still flashing her a winning smile that dimpled his round cheeks, one hand rubbing the crest of his enormous, sloshing belly.

"Hey, Minerva… hope you don't mind a change in plans, but how do you feel about a buffet and cuddling after? If you give it a chance, I think you'll find I'm a lot more plush and comfortable to snuggle up against tonight."

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Forward planning was not one of Crash's strong suits. Really, anything that involved thinking was not one of Crash's strong suits. But becoming bigger and stronger than Crunch? That was fantastic. When the bandicoot stole Vortex's latest creation— some kind of super wumpa fruit— that was a good thing. Vortex was evil, he made evil things, taking those evil things was good. Wumpa fruit was also good— it was Crash's favorite thing. When had wumpa fruit ever led him wrong? So, Crash ate the mutated wumpa fruit and woke up much bigger.

First of all, bandicoots seemed to be predisposed towards being top-heavy; his short legs were now wider than they were long, packed with dense muscle and holding up a monumental torso, while his denim shorts creaked and groaned straddling trunk-sized thighs. It began with a row of huge, chiseled abs, bolstered and framed by lats that flared out as wide as a mountainside, his heaving flanks stretching wider as they propped up his gigantic arms, each one nearly as big as the rest of his torso- anvil-sized triceps pumped to inflate hill-like biceps, a mountain range of shoulder muscles filling out his once lean and serpentine neck into a pillar of muscle, wedged into a bulging cliff face of a chest that jutted out far past his muzzle.

When he saw his new form and bulging muscle, Crash decided very quickly this was a good thing as he hefted his enormous arms and curled, his swollen forearms mashing against his pumped biceps as he flashed a winning smile towards Aku-Aku, who had been in the middle of a long winded tirade about how stupid the bandicoot had been. His smile widened as he suddenly remembered some of that super fruit was still just sitting there in his kitchen, uneaten… maybe he'd have one more, as a treat.