#not height wise but still

[theaxolotlkween]

I made these for this one trend on ig, but it was kind of cool to look back on how I was then and how I am now. I’ve always defined a lot of who I am on what I like because of how important my hyperfixations and special interests are to me. It’s interesting to see how my interests have changed without really changing. I still love the same kinds of things, and I still love all the things on the 2020 picture, but I’ve also expanded past trying to fit a stereotype. 2020 me would not have been caught dead liking My Hero Academia or Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or She-Ra and the Princesses of Power. And Spider-Man would’ve been a guilty pleasure, like how Steven Universe was. But I love the things that I love. Because it’s important to me and has helped me discover myself. I definitely needed the things that I was obsessed with then, but I need different things now. I’ve been able to explore things that I liked before in a new way and explore new things that I didn’t think I would like before. Getting to really open up to myself the parts of me I repressed for so long trying to be a cishet woman, before the very transitional period of 2020 and the less transitional year of now. Not to say I’ve fully figured myself out, because I don’t think anyone can really do that, but I’ve learned a lot of things about myself. I learned that I like silly things, I’ve learned that I’m a nerdy little guy, and I’ve learned that that’s fine. And all of this introspection from a fucking Instagram trend.

[amygdalae]

despite only being like halfway thru the game on my first playthrough character I also made a new guy because I wanted to make a mourn watch warrior character. surly orphaned elf boy raised by necromancers in a big necropolis. i like how often your starting faction comes up in dialogue regardless of which you pick

[smalltimidbean]

There is a new person in one of my servers with 'small' and 'bean' as their name (albeit small is spelt 'smol', but principle of the matter)........

I have to kill them

(This is a joke)

[sweetdonutsart]

halloween 2022 🎃 👻

halloween pieces last year with my ocs! i kinda rushed these during halloween day but they all look so cute with their designs and moodboards 🥰

[finn95o]

BABY LIAM WIH HIS SHY BABY BLUSH AND HIS KIWI FLAG ON HIS WAIST AND HE IS SOSOSOOSOS BABY

BABY LEEM😭

HES SO SMALL I WANT TO PUT HIM IN MY POCKET

[marblecore]

Pspsps hey how tall would you say Zhan is? Asking for a friend…

theyre like 2 yis tall, but hes still kinda short compared to everyone else. he barely reach up to jiequan's abdomen 😭

[thirsty-4-ghouls]

I gave my favorite Dragonborn oc a Breton great grandma while the rest of her family were nords for a few reasons but also because I wanted her to suffer being the one person to inherit being short and small from a great grandma when everyone else in her family inherited the tall genes, just like me >:3 woe, short great grandmother genes be upon you

[rainyraisin]

WHY DOES MY 6 YEAR OLD COUSIN HAVE A PHONE???

I didn't get one till I was 10 and even I know that was probably too young

Time for the smol to be corrupted ig it was nice knowing her

[dexaroth]

honestly i guess my sona could just straight up be a lantern mouse.. but i do like slugcats. current idea is that they shapeshift during hibernation according to cycles/food. so if they know they need to stay in an area but theyve eaten all the fruits or if they know a threat is gonna return they turn into a lantern mouse or something like that

it feels kinda wrong to be a lantern mouse walking on two legs and throwing spears lol. i guess thats why i cant envision my sona being one.. theres two workshop cosmetic mods that aren't exactly true to their form but it did confirm this fear to me kind of

[fistfuloflightning]

Seeing @fixaidea’s hilarious body type post instantly triggered my tol & smol radar and now I want Mo Ran/Wei Wuxian content so bad 😩

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Generally love buying new drawing supplies in order to be able to draw OC's, aka YGO and club penguin ones mainly as they on the brain a-lot in terms of art, but my brain has yet to get motivation to actually do the drawing part. And by love I mean hate because come the fuck on brain-

[rivilu-2-electric-boogaloo]

The scrunkly (3D version)

And a wip for good measure↴

[debbiechanclub]

There is a two-size clothing difference between what fits my child's weight versus her height

[metalomagnetic]

Canon Marauders meet Fanon Marauders

“I will kill him, James. I simply have to kill him. It’s a duty at this point,” Sirius whispers, at breakfast. 

James is morally opposed to murder, to say the least, but now when he opens his mouth to automatically tell Sirius he can’t kill people, the Abomination walks into the Great Hall, and James closes his mouth, with a sigh. 

He condones it. 

“Can you kill me, too, please?” Remus asks, as he watches his counterpart walk behind the Abomination. 

“Oh, come on! The Other You isn’t so bad.” 

“They’re all bad,” Peter mutters. “Just unbearable to watch.” 

They’ve only arrived in this cursed universe the day before, but it’s already too much to suffer. 

When Sirius met this universe’ version of himself, he had to be restrained from committing unspeakable violence. 

“What’s with the pranks?” James wonders. “Look, they’ve only just entered the Hall and they’ve already pulled a few pranks.” 

“You call those pranks?” Sirius sneers. “Those lame jokes?” 

“They probably take the ‘prankster’ label too seriously,” Peter bemoans. “And I’m missing again. It’s like I don’t even exist here, like those guys forget I’m their best friend.” 

After the Other Sirius, Other Peter was done the dirtiest. He’s much uglier than the real one, far shorter, and so stupid Sirius thinks he shouldn’t even be allowed to attend school. 

Not that Other Sirius is smart- oh, no. Other Sirius is a moron, apparently allergic to books. 

Remus got an upgrade- he’s now a wise genius to rival Dumbledore, and he spends his days giving people chocolate frogs.

It’s a wonder the Abomination is so thin, with how much chocolate he’s getting from Other Remus. 

So thin and short. 

“Why am I short?” Sirius growls. “I don’t know mate, it’s like the creator of this universe misremembered our heights and switched them around,” Remus offers, watching his other self, a very tall bastard. He’s even taller than Real Sirius. 

Outrageous. 

“I could suffer you short,” James says. “But look at him, he’s - why is he so…is that ...nail polish? Gods, what have they done to my Sirius!” 

“I asked him if he still has the bike,” Peter whispers. “He said he does, but I mean- he’s so fragile and dainty, how does he even manage that monster bike?” 

Sirius shakes his head in horror. “I have to kill him, there’s no way around it.” 

The Other Sirius whines in the distance. “MOOOOONY,” he pouts, and that's it, Sirius stands-

“Not here,” James pulls him by his sleeve. “You can’t have witnesses.” 

(-)

It takes them a few days to figure out what’s wrong with Other James. At a first glance, he looked normal, compared to the others. Almost unchanged from his real version, if only stupider. But not as stupid as Other Sirius and Other Peter, of course. 

A chicken wouldn’t be dumber than those guys. 

When they do figure it out, James throws up. 

“There, there,” Sirius pats his back. “Breathe, mate. Breathe.” 

“I’m fucking your brother! Your brother, Sirius!” 

“Oh, no, that is not my brother. That is Other Brother.” 

This version of Regulus is apparently not a bigot at all, it’s all just a big misunderstanding. He’s an Animagus, too, somehow. 

Sirius actually thinks Other Regulus is an alright lad- nothing like his brother, mind you, but alright, in general. 

James throws up again. “Me! With Regulus Black! I’m not even gay! I love Lily, and she loves me-” 

“Well, apparently she’s gay, too, in this world.” Remus says, which only makes James cry.

That isn’t so bad, really. Many things are wrong with this universe, but Lily and Dorcas look hot together. Sirius had a wank thinking of them the other night. It’s fine, he tells himself. He’s not betraying James. This Lily is nothing like their Lily back home. This one is like a goddess of beauty here, hair far more vibrant than the Real one, flawless skin and overall perfect in everything she does. Extremely selfless, saint-like, to the point she apparently offered to carry Regulus’ and James’ baby after Hogwarts.

Real Lily would hate her. 

She’s still not worse than Other Sirius. Nothing is worse than that. Real Sirius has taken to bullying Other Sirius, daily. Hourly. The Abomination whines about it to Other Remus all the time. 

“I want a word,” Other Remus hulks over, ridiculously muscular and, for some reason, with scars on his face. 

What the fuck happened to this bloke? Who even is he?

Real Remus slinks back. He was never one for confrontations, their Remus, but apparently this upgraded version is all up for it. 

“Listen,” Sirius tells him, because he doesn’t hate the man- sure, he’s not Remus, but he seems like a nice lad. “Why do you put up with that insufferable drama queen? He deserves to hang, and you deserve better.” 

“That’s my baby! That’s my Pads,” Other Remus says, suddenly all violent, his eyes turn yellow- what the actual fuck? 

But Sirius is already nauseous, stomach turning as soon as he heard ‘baby’ and ‘Pads”  coming out of his mouth. 

Real Remus cheers from the sidelines as Sirius wipes the floor with Other Remus. The Abomination cries somewhere in the distance, all helpless, until Real James hits him over the head with a candlestick. Other James is too busy sucking Other Regulus’ face to notice anything. 

(-)

Other Snape has a split personality, as if someone out there can’t decide if he’s evil reincarnate or a mewling, innocent boy. 

It’s jarring to see the shifts, day to day, and Sirius doesn’t know which version he hates more. 

He never thought he’d miss Snape, but he does. He misses their Snape, gods damn it, the Real one. 

(-)

He finds out his parents- or at least his parents in this world- torture Other Sirius on a daily basis. With the Cruciatus, even. 

Other Regulus tells him this, all traumatised. 

“Well,” Sirius says, shocked to the core. He almost laughs at the absurdity of it. “To be fair, if I had a son like the Abomination, I’d torture, him, too.” 

(-)

Dumbledore is Evil. But stupidly so. Even a random eleven year old saw through his evil plans and humiliated Dumbledore at breakfast. Some smart arse kid, who’s apparently Lord Potter Black Gaunt Slytherin, and talks like an eighty year old politician. Apparently Dumbledore stole his money or something. 

“I wonder how Other Voldemort is like,” James says, anxious to consider it. 

“I don’t even care,” Peter says. “We should join him. It’s either him, or siding with these lunatics.” 

They all nod in agreement. Voldemort can’t be worse- nothing can be worse than Other Sirius and Evil Stupid Dumbledore.  

(-)

There’s two Voldemorts. 

One is practically a ‘cartoon character’ Remus says. Sirius has no idea what that means.

This Voldemort is Ridiculously Evil. 

Insane Bellatrix is his most loyal. For some reason Insane Bellatrix cackles all the time, and mutters about blood and the Cruciatus under her breath. She’s also dressed like a slut. 

Real Bella, like the aristocrat she is, would never be caught looking like that in public. 

Sirius takes her aside to have a few words with her, and then he finds out apparently she, too, was tortured daily by her parents, like Other Sirius. 

“And raped,” she remembers, with a shrug.  

Wow, and Sirius thought the Real versions of the Blacks were bad, but these people take the fucking cake. 

If the Real Blacks would find out what these Other Blacks are doing to their children, there’ll be hell to pay. 

His mum is a right basket case back in his world, insufferable and cruel with her words, unreasonably strict, but if she’d ever find out another version of herself is torturing her children- why, she’d cut that bitch in pieces. 

(-)

The second Other Voldemort is some misunderstood good guy with a sob story. He whines about his tragic childhood as much as Other Sirius. 

At least this Other Voldemort is still tall, unlike Other Sirius. 

“It’s all Dumbledore’s fault,” he ends a monologue. “He made me do all I did. Or-” he checks a list. “Apparently sometimes he simply framed me and I didn’t do anything at all. Also, you can call me Tom, in private,” he invites them. 

It’s a tragic state of affairs. 

They decide to join Ridiculously Evil Voldemort, simply because he’s the only one that wouldn't protest to murdering everyone. He talks about murder every single day, and Sirius promises him he’ll do anything If he’s allowed to kill Other Sirius. 

“Oh, by the way, you should deal with Good Guy Voldemort.” 

“With who?” 

“You know, the hotter you, the one that’s innocent of all wrongs and calls himself Tom.” 

Evil Voldemort has a heart attacks and dies. 

(-)

They’re on the run from everyone in that crazy world, when a hooded figure enters their tent.  

“Is it you? Is it really you?” the man asks. “Potter? Black? Lupin? Pettigrew?’ 

“Yes, it’s us.” 

The person lowers his hood. It’s Snape. Real Snape. With greasy hair and a large nose, but with intelligent, sharp eyes.

There’s no ‘Victim’ stamped on his forehead, nor is he an evil arrogant bastard, like the Other Snape.

“Fuck, Snivellus! A sane person! I could hug you!” 

“I’d rather not,” Snape spits at James. “Alas, I am...relieved to have found you. We need to work together. I came here after you-” 

“Of course you did, you berk! You were stalking us, as usually, weren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Snape says, unashamed. “I killed the Other me.” 

“Good job. I killed the Other me, too,” Sirius boasts. “I took my time with him.” 

“I killed Other Lily,” Snape says. “She had to go. She was all ...wrong.” 

James sniffles. “She was.” 

And then they all sit down, and plan how to kill Good Guy Voldemort and Evil Stupid Dumbledore. 

[froggiewrites]

Into the Dragon's Den

Pairing: Dragon!Ace x Reader

NSFW

Summary: This job is going to change your life. With the treasure from the dragon’s hoard, you’ll never have to work again, you’re sure of it. But when he catches you in the act, you find you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Everything in this room is his, and he insists that includes you. But really, would it be so bad to play your part? Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Size Kink, Objectification (Reader treated as a treasure), Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Praise Kink, Biting/Marking, Tail Sex, Overstimulation, Possessiveness, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 3k Halloween Special 2024

It’s impossibly warm within the dragon’s lair. Your clothes are soaked through with sweat, sticking to you with every step, but still you press on. Your current discomfort is nothing compared to the bliss that’s going to follow, once you get this gold.

You had no idea how large his hoard was, when you first came here. You knew that even a small hoard would pay for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life, but the amount of gold, jewels, and priceless artifacts in this cave could feed an entire kingdom for a century, at least. You can’t pocket it all, of course, but if you choose wisely you’ll be able to live like royalty once you find the right buyer for it all. You’ll never have to work a day again in your life, safe and protected and cozy in a little piece of land just for yourself. You can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face from the thought.

The dragon is nowhere to be seen, hopefully out hunting or something else that will take it a while. You’re no dragon slayer, and you don’t care to be. You don’t want to kill such a magnificent creature, simply relieve it of some loose change and trinkets. Nothing it will miss. You didn’t even bring anything to defend yourself other than a tiny dagger, one that couldn’t pierce a dragon’s hide even wielded by the greatest warrior. You’re a would-be thief, nothing else.

Your eyes drag over the room you stand in, clearly burrowed out by massive claws and set with a fire that would leave nothing but ash were it set upon you. The floor is a beautiful volcanic glass, which you would love to chip away and take with you, but while your dagger would certainly be able to take off a piece or two, it would also shatter immediately on impact. You instead settle for a large pile of gold jewelry. You can see dozens of precious gems peeking out, sapphires and rubies and diamonds catching the dim light so beautifully you’re drawn closer like a moth to a flame. You spot a particularly beautiful necklace, with an orange gemstone that looks like fire itself inlaid in the center, and you can’t help but reach out for it. It’s only once your fingers have wrapped around it that you hear the rumbling voice behind you.

“Are you sure you should be touching that?” The voice is deep, rumbling, but there’s a hint of joviality to it, laughing like there’s a joke here, and you’re the punchline. You whip around to see it, or him, towering above you. You expected some horrible beast, a lizard spanning the length of the room, but standing before you is almost a man. He’s frighteningly tall, at least double your height, and his biceps and pectorals are larger than your head. His hands, which are reaching toward you, are tipped in black claws that could easily rip you to shreds. He’s hardly clothed, just a simple pair of shorts that leave nothing to the imagination, and most of his exposed skin is covered in beautiful, glistening red scales. His cheeks are dotted with both freckles and smaller scales, and his eyes are piercing, his pupils slits that you can see grow wider as he looks at you. His grin is filled with razor sharp teeth that you can imagine ripping into your throat. On either side of his head are curling horns reaching for the sky. You’d call him beautiful, were you not so terrified. There is a large tail behind him, whipping back and forth with an audible swish. You feel like a mouse caught beneath the claws of a cat, waiting to be toyed with before being ripped to shreds.

One hand wraps around your waist, while the other plucks the necklace easily from your grasp. He holds it up to the light as he pulls you closer, allowing the gem to sparkle and shine. He hums, which is more of a rumble, before holding it up to your neck. His eyes seem to strip you bare as they rake over you. His grin grows wider. “It suits you. Would you like to wear it, little one?”

You stare, mouth agape, and he laughs again, showing off every one of his teeth. You force yourself to answer. “I–I couldn’t possibly.”

His eyes narrow slightly, and you feel as though you’ve failed some kind of test. “You could. I wouldn’t have offered if you couldn’t. It’s a lovely piece.” With the way he’s staring, you can’t help but feel he isn’t talking about the necklace.

You don’t know what role you’re playing here, but you know he’s massive and gorgeous and terrifying, so you try to fulfill it anyway. “Then I suppose I would.”

He grins, pulling you close until you’re pressed against him and releasing you, delicately clasping the necklace around your neck. It’s thick and heavy, feeling almost like a collar. His claw traces gently along where it falls on your neck, leaning down to admire the shine of gold against your skin. “Lovely,” he murmurs, and you can feel his hot breath against your face, smelling of smoke and burning oak. He leans closer, his tongue, which is far longer than a regular man’s, tracing along the path his fingers took. You shiver, and you can feel him grin against your skin before nipping right at your sweet spot. 

You yelp. “Wh–what are you doing?”

His voice is low when he whispers in your ear. “I’m enjoying what’s mine.”

“What?”

“Everything in this room is one of my treasures.” His nips at you again, before his lips brush gently against the spot to soothe the marks he surely left. “And such a lovely one just snuck in to make their place here. How lucky am I?” Another nip, another kiss, then a gentle suckle against your skin. You whine at the sensation, heat flooding you, and he laughs again.

“I’m–I’m not–ah!” His hand inserts itself between your thighs, making you instinctively clench them around it as he presses into you through your pants. He slowly drags up, watching as you whimper and whine under his heated attention.

“Not what? Mine? Or a treasure?” He chuckles, and you feel the sound echo through his chest as it presses against yours. “You’re both, sweet thing. Unless you care to explain why else you’d be here?” His tone is still hot and seductive, but the words carry a challenge. His teeth are still against your throat, and for the first and only time his bite is enough to draw blood. He quickly licks it away, soothing it with his long, forked tongue, but the message is clear.

You whimper, the sound coming from deep within you, though whether it comes from fear or arousal you don’t quite know. You open your mouth to confess, to submit yourself to him, to say anything at all, but you’re met with that same tongue entering your throat. The kiss is horribly sloppy, wet and wild and wanting, as his hands slowly start to move. One keeps pressing against your clit through your pants, tortuously slow, while the other reaches for your chest. You expect to feel him paw at you, but instead you feel a slight sharpness from his claw down the front of your shirt, cutting it and your bra in two. They don’t fall off immediately, stuck to you with sweat, and he makes a discontented grunt before peeling them off of you. You involuntarily squeak at the sensation, and start to pull back, but something scaled and rough wraps around your waist keeping you still. 

His tail holds you firmly, tight enough to keep you from squirming but not tightly enough to bruise. The sensation of his scales scraping against the bottom of your breasts is interesting, and you can’t tell if it’s discomfort or pleasure that makes you shiver. He seems to enjoy it either way. The tip of it starts to make its way down, slipping below the waistband of your pants and pressing lightly against your clit. You gasp against him, and he grins against your lips.

You finally get a moment to breathe as he pulls back to admire your upper half, the way your skin looks pressed against his snails, your exposed chest and the way it heaves as you try to catch your breath. His pupils start to overtake his irises the more he looks at you. “A wonderful addition to my collection,” he murmurs hotly, leaning in to nip at your tits. “The crowning jewel, really. I’ll have to find the perfect place for you. Somewhere you’ll catch the light just right.”

He leaves marks all over your torso, hickies and bites that you’re sure will stay for days. He turns his claws to your pants, finally removing his hand from between your thighs to drag a claw on the outsides of either pant leg and quickly ripping them off. His tail still lightly rubs against you as he peels off your panties and finally exposes you fully to the heated air around you. He finally leaves your chest alone, kissing down your stomach to meet his tail blocking his path further down. His tip leaves your clit, and you let out a pathetic noise that he absolutely delights in.

“Don’t worry, treasure. I’d never leave you wanting.” He looks up at you, scales catching the light, and gives you a smile you could almost be convinced was filled with genuine affection. But the hunger, the wanting, the possession still reflects in his eyes, betraying him for the animal he is. His tail leaves your midriff, and his hands find your thighs, spreading them easily. “You’re dripping, sweet thing. You really are perfect. Could you really blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself?”

You struggle to speak in your lust-infused haze, but you manage. “I–I’m not perfect.”

“Oh, but you are, treasure, even if you don’t know it. You’re going to love being mine, I promise. I take very good care of my things.”

You find yourself coming unraveled underneath his gaze, bare and vulnerable. The truth comes out of you almost like a compulsion. “I was trying to steal from you.”

He chuckles. “I know. You seem a bit greedy.” He easily lifts you, placing your thighs on his shoulders, his nose pressing into your core. “It’s alright. So am I.”

With that, he dives in, eating you out like a man starved. His tongue is much longer than a human’s, finding places within you that you didn’t even know were there to be found. He makes loud slurping sounds, ones that make you blush despite yourself. You’re suspended in the air, coming unraveled on his tongue, unable to muffle your cries as he buries himself into you. You clench your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. Your hands tangle in his hair tightly, pulling at every movement of his tongue, and he growls against you with every tug. 

He murmurs against you, “So sweet, darling thing.” HIs nose brushes against your clit, and you begin to fall, only to be caught by his tail, held midair, only supported by him. Every sensation you can feel is him, from his tongue to his tail to the warmth of the air in his lair, he is the only world you are allowed to know. His claws dig into the plush of your thighs as he continues his feast, showing his strength, his lethality, but never threatening to truly puncture. You wonder how many people have been ripped to shred by the hands holding you, how many have been consumed by the mouth that presses against you.

He continues to lap away at you as you cry out, muscles tensing as you build towards your climax. He’s unrelenting as he greedily tastes you, lost in your flavor, the feeling of your thighs clenching around his head, the softness of your skin underneath his tail. You manage to open your eyes just long enough to glance down at him and see there is not a single millimeter between him and you. As he feels you grow closer and closer, one of his hands reaches for your clit, gently rubbing against it, and you finally come unraveled around him. He doesn’t slow for a moment as you cry out and clench around him. Your orgasm ravages you just as he does, pleasure bursting through you. You expect him to pull away, to begin to prepare to enter you, but he doesn’t slow for a moment, letting out soft moans against your mound as he continues.

“W–What are you–”

He growls against you as you try to pull him back. “Mine.”

“Please, it–it’s too much!” You cry as he hits a particularly sensitive spot again.

When he hears your noises shift from pleasure to discomfort, he seems to find himself for a moment, finally pulling you off of him slightly. His chin is dripping with your juices, his cheeks shining from the wetness covering them. His eyes are completely blown out, and he looks almost lost as he pulls back. He only focuses again once he looks up at your face, and he seems to remember where he is. You maintain eye contact for a moment, as one of his hands comes up to lightly brush against the necklace you’re wearing. “A treasure, a feast, a beauty. You really are perfect.” His voice is filled with a quiet awe, enough that you allow yourself to ignore the heat of possession burning beneath the words. “And you’re all mine.”

Some part of you wants to deny it, but more of you is lost in the haze of it all, and you find yourself muttering, “Yes, yes, yours!”

“Yes, treasure, yes.” He kisses your thigh before he begins lowering you, holding you with his arms instead. Something scaly and hard begins to slither up your thigh, and you whine as you feel his tail dip against your entrance. “Just a bit more, sweet thing. To make sure you’re ready.”

“Please,” you mutter, for mercy, for more, for whatever he’ll give you.

“Of course.” His tail slowly enters you, stretching you easily after all of his attention earlier. He pushes and pushes, making you feel wonderfully full. His tail grows wider as it continues, threatening to tear you in two, but you manage to accommodate him anyway. “So good for me, treasure. Doing such a wonderful job. You were made for this. For me.”

You feel the alien sensation of his scales against your walls as he slowly pulls it out and pushes it back in, testing how far you can stretch, how much of his you can take. He murmurs soft praises with every inch you’re able to fit, about how perfect you are, about what a wonderful addition to his collection you’ll be, about what a prize you are. “You’ll stay with me forever, treasure. I have the perfect space for you in my bed, and the firelight will illuminate your beauty just right. You’ll wear all of the jewels you could ever desire. And you’ll feel pleasure like this every night.”

You cry when he pulls out of you, but you’re quickly silenced by the sensation of something far larger poking against your entrance. “Don’t tense up now, treasure. You’re doing so well. It’ll be alright.”

A strangled moan leaves you when he inserts himself, stretching you wider than any point of his tail did. Tears prick at your eyes, and your thighs tense, but you force yourself to take a breath and relax.

“Just like that. You can do it.” He slides and slides for what feels like forever, and you look down to see where he meets you. His cock is monstrous, and you clench around him when you see the bulge in your belly from your body trying to accommodate it. He moans. “Ah, just like that. Perfect. So perfect.”

He pulls you impossibly closer, kissing you with something resembling tenderness. Then, all at once, he pulls out and slams into you quickly, a single hand on your hips moving you up and down at a breakneck pace. You cry out, and he quickly silences you with another deep kiss, bouncing you on his cock like you were made for nothing more than this. His hips pound against you as his other hand reaches for your clit. His claw briefly presses against your skin, but mercifully you find his fingertip rubbing against you instead. You can hear nothing over the blood rushing in your ears and his heavy breaths as he continues to rut against you. His lips leave yours and you whine. He’s saying something, but you can’t make out the words. His tone is enough, wanting and desperate, for you to know he’s singing your praises again.

The heat of it all is quickly becoming too much, and you can see he’s losing himself as well, as his thrusts become even faster and his hand tightens around your hips. The fire moves through you without mercy, pleasure blinding you and taking your breath away as you come cum on his cock. He follows soon after, and you can feel warm spurts of cum fill you as he moans loudly against your ear. When he does, he falls backwards into the pile of treasure behind him, taking you with him. He doesn’t pull out for a moment as he pulls you close, tucking you into him and pressing your head into his chest. His heart is pounding, his skin is on fire, and his breaths are unsteady. He’s come fully and truly undone. 

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that you lay there before he pulls out. You feel horribly empty when he does, cum dripping out of you onto his thighs. He laughs when you whine.

“I hope you’re prepared, treasure. We have a wonderful time ahead of us.” His grin is all teeth, his pupils retracting back into slits, and you’re forced to remember once again there is nothing human about the thing sitting beneath you. “You’re going to love being mine.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece

[greatbigbellies]

THE GREAT BIG GRAVID PREGNANCY KINK ASK GAME

There are some very fun preg or belly kink ask games out there, but the one's I've seen are typically focused on one flavor of said kink, or aren't strictly pregnancy-focused or are heavily gendered.

So I thought I'd to cook up 50 fun, kinky but not outright explicit, questions for an ask game. All pretty broad in application, and gender neutral! Please enjoy! _______________________________________________________

What's your favorite aspect of pregnancy? What makes it hot for you in a kink sense?

Would you rather be with someone who IS pregnant, or be pregnant YOURSELF? (or both?)

Do you prefer pregnant bellies that sit high, or carry low?

Do you prefer a pregnant belly that leans more "torpedo belly" or "beachball belly", or something else?

Favorite pregnancy blemish (stretchmarks, veins, linea nigra, ect), if any?

If you could only pick one, would you keep hyperpreg, rapid preg, or perma preg? Why?

Favorite NON-physical attribute of pregnancy? (Ex: cravings, pregnancy brain, nesting)

Most niche part of pregnancy that fits into your kink?

How pregnant is TOO pregnant where it stops being hot?

Thoughts on ill-fitting/outgrowing clothes with pregnancy?

Do you prefer bare, partially covered, or tightly clothed pregnant bellies?

Do you have a favorite occupation to see a pregnant person performing?

In preg kink writings, when a pregnancy is abnormal in any way, do you prefer when it's supernatural (fantasy), technological (sci-fi), explained some other way, or not explained at all?

Who are some of your favorite preg kink artists/blogs?

Do you prefer when a pregnancy is super encumbering, or doesn't limit the pregnant person in an extreme way?

How do you feel about pregnancy and stuckage?

How do you feel about pregnancy and stuffing, or vore, or wg, or inflation, or any other kink that increases belly size?

How do you feel about pregnancy paired with another, non-belly related kink? (asker may specify)

Thoughts on pregnant belly worship?

Thoughts on pregnant belly manipulation? (like pushing on or shaking a pregnant belly)

What's something kinky you would love to do to a pregnant belly, outside of the realm of normal pampering or worship?

What's an outfit you'd love to see a pregnant person wear?

For kink purposes, what's your favorite stage of pregnancy?

Favorite view for a belly? (straight on, side profile, POV looking down as though it's yours, ect)

Do you prefer a pregnant person dressed to the nines, or basically in their pajamas?

Describe one of your most self indulgent preg kink fantasies in full.

Do you prefer super active pregnant bellies, or bellies with calmer babies?

Do you prefer smooth and blemishless pregnant bellies, or ones with lots of marks and veins and strain?

Favorite non-belly physical attribute of a pregnant person?

Favorite state for a belly button on a pregnant belly? (innie, outie, flat, ect)

Thoughts on pregnant bellies with a soft layer of chub around them?

Favorite word to describe a pregnant belly?

Do you prefer when a pregnant person is "maxed out" and at the height of their possible growth, or big but still growing, lending to some anticipation for what's to come?

What's your ideal rapid preg growth speed? How long should it ideally take to go from a flat tummy to full term?

Do you prefer a large/overdue singleton, or a batch of multiples?

What what point does "high order multiples" become "hyper preg" to you?

Thoughts on monsterpreg? If you enjoy it, what's your favorite monster to be/see someone pregnant with?

If you enjoy pregnancy encumbering mobility, do you prefer if its due to size, or weight? or both?

Do you think of a pregnancy kink as a more "vanilla" kink, or as one of the weirder ones?

What are some aspects of pregnancy that you enjoy in a kink way that AREN'T the pregnancy itself? (Ex: breeding, labor, birth, lactation, ect)

Have you told anyone you know IRL about your pregnancy kink? If so, who (within reason privacy wise), and how did they take it?

Favorite piece of pregnancy-centric media? (could be for kink purposes or otherwise)

Favorite part of a pregnant belly?

Thoughts on belly piercings on pregnant bellies?

In a kink context, what's an activity you would you like to be doing/see someone doing while pregnant?

At what point does a pregnant belly go from "big" to "huge"?

Do you have any preg kink "guilty pleasures"? What is one, if you have any and are willing to share?

Do you have another kink that you enjoy mixing with pregnancy? If so, what is it?

Do you have any irl stories or anecdotes that relate to your pregnancy kink in way way? Care to share?

In as much detail as possible, what's your IDEAL pregnant belly?