You Think Fat Trans Men Are Hot. Reblog

no, seriously, you would not believe how many fish this guy can eat!

Scenario: Pred eats their intended target, but in a domino effect of eliminating witnesses, ends up terribly full~

Absolutely Not | Not My Thing Personally | Not Very Much | Neutral | Somewhat | Quite A Bit | Absolutely Adore

the ditzy pred slowly realizing that what they thought was the perfect ambush spot, no escape for the prey, also means there’s no easy escape for them, and people just keep coming in a gasping dramatically when they see the belly…

this is such a fun spot between willing and unwilling pred. yes, they fully intended on eating the first one, but good lord do they wish these idiots would stop coming~

the pred tries out a new lie/excuse with each witness, hoping against hope it’ll work, but the lie is spoiled by a uncontainable belch or a muffled shout for help, and the pred can only groan in consternation before stuffing yet another meal into their aching, crowded tummy

petplay / g/t / vore

keeping your half sized pred as a pet. Making a luscious bed for them, a plush nest of ornate silks, thick furs, and pillows stuffed with downing feathers

Each night, completing a ritual of Feeding. Preparing tinies on a gold guilded dish, only thr most luxurious for your rare pet. Tiny after tiny, hand delivered to their waiting mouth until their stomach grows visibly round and plump.

Giving your pet a belly rub, pressing your comparatively massive hand onto their belly, feeling the restless little meals under your pets skin. Pressing down enough to make the pred jolt, their cheeks turning red as a small belch escapes them

saying "good pet," as the pred curls up around their full belly, their small palms kneading into the heavy, taut mass in their stomach.

Watching over them as they fall into a deep, digestive sleep. Their tummy continuing to squirm long after they fall into slumber. Watching as your pets belly eventually ceases all movement, and begins to grow smooth and round, softer, as their dinner of tinies gurgle away.

Your pet lounging much later, their paunch noticeably plumper after their most recent feeding. Pressing your hand into that squishy pouch, which annoys the pred slightly.

having an attack dog pred. A pred where you can point at someone and be like 🫵 eat them

where my stoner preds who ate their buddies and tapped out only to wake up to someone beating the shit out of their insides the next morning at

The first time I brought him a meal, it was an accident. I didnt know what he was, I didnt know what would happen.

He had no name that I could speak, no true shape that he would show me, but he had hunger.

I brought him more. People who wouldn't be missed. People who might have deserved it. People I barely thought about once they were gone.

I watched him take them, jaws parting to accommodate them whole. The silence after was always the most satisfying part. Quiet. The confirmation that the world had swallowed them up, and no one would ever know where they'd gone.

Except me

Then, after, I took care of him. I brought cool water. I pressed my hands to the swell of his stomach when he was too full to move. He shifted and groaned, his voice like claws scraping against old stone. This was my ritual.

I should have died in that explosion—in the bloom of heat when the car burst into flames. But I walked out of it, my skin untouched, my clothes barely singed. The air smelled of ash and burned meat-- none of it was mine.

I told myself I was lucky. That it was chance. And the confusing nature of the event, it must have been survivors guilt.

But then the shadows started following me. And I knew things I shouldn't.

I told him about it the next time I brought an offering.

He was sated, draped in the darkness, in the basement, same as when Id first found him.

The grisly echoes of his last meal settling in the deep of his belly. I pressed my hand against it, felt the heat of his digestion like a furnace beneath his skin.

and said, "Something's wrong with me."

I told him everything that had happened. He listened, uninterrupting until I had told him everything.

He made a sound that might have been a chuckle. "Ah."

"Ah? That's all you have to say?" I demanded. "I walked out of a burning car. I see things. I hear things. And I know it's connected to you."

"it is."

There was an apology in his voice. He adjusted himself, his stomach gurgling over its latest burden.

"You've been offering me sacrifices for months. You're bound to me now. These are... side effects."

I stared at him. "Side effects."

He stretched, his form shifting, a rippling shadow in the dark. "Devotion has power. And you've been quite devoted, haven't you?"

That horrified me. I didnt want to be his devotee. "I just like watching you eat."

"That," he said, "is close enough."

Had he tricked me?

"So, what, I'm your priest now?"

"If you want to be." He tilted his head, regarding me not in the way a human or animal would. "Or you can just keep bringing me meals. Either way, the benefits remain."

I let my hands press into him, kneading the firm swell of his gut, feeling the way his stomach gurgled beneath the pressure.

A god’s belly, full with an offering I had given.

"You're very proud of your work," he said, amused.

Again, I smoothed a hand over his belly flesh. Like being allowed to run your fingers through a lion’s mane

A strong rolling gurgle answered my touch, a sound deep, growling, proof of the work being done inside.

His belly was stretched tight, but not quite like mortal flesh. It shifted strangely under my hands, half-solid, half-shadow, as though his body couldn't quite decide if it needed to follow the rules of the world it inhabited.

The weight of him was immense, his form languid with satisfaction. I pressed deeper, kneading slow circles against his full belly, feeling the dense pressure of his meal, the warmth of it rolling back at me. He groaned, long and low, and his stomach clenched beneath my hand.

“Hhhroourrp—” The belch tore from his throat, vibrating through his chest and against my palms.

I petted his stomach, gentle, praising. No part of me wanted to stop doing this.

the best way to get your monster boy to stop biting is to stuff him <3

Boys deserve as many milkshakes as they want every day forever

I’m not sure if you’ve played the latest Honkai update but if you have and you like it, would you ever consider drawing Mydei eating a bit too much? 😄

i havent played but i plan to get mydei regardless of whether i finished the story or not 👍👍

content underneath is extreme 😭😭 umm if you like more mild content maybe this is not for you im sorry

Just a random thought I assume you might enjoy--or you'd prefer a modified version of it. Unsure. Do with it as you see fit.

A lithe fellow who has a slime/goo boyfriend, and periodically carries said slime/goo boyfriend around in his tummy. Maybe not all of him. Maybe said slime/goo boyfriend just pumps his solid boyfriend full of his goo... maybe to make more little goolings.

It would be a very good way to hide said boyfriend from those who aren't so accepting of such beings.

hi anon. i loved this idea <3 i decided to just reuse alex and @knifegoats ' casey for it because i've made jokes about casey's dnd sona literally being a slime!!