The First Time I Brought Him A Meal, It Was An Accident. I Didnt Know What He Was, I Didnt Know What

pest control

The call comes in just past noon. A woman, frantic, says she’s spotted a colony of tinies scurrying around her attic. Probably have been living up there for months, stealing crumbs, making little tunnels in the insulation. She wants them gone—immediately.

“Fast, effective removal,” you assure her over the phone, slipping on your jacket.

“No mess, no chemicals or poison.”

It’s a warm day, and you feel good, stomach still light from the morning. Your last job had been a modest infestation—three tinies in a crawlspace. They’d gone down easy, barely noticeable in your stomach. You could go for something bigger.

it was lunch time after all

The house is tidy, suburban, white shutters, flower beds neatly trimmed. The woman meets you at the door,

“I heard them moving all last night,” she says, ushering you in. “It’s disgusting.”

You nod, but you don’t share her disgust. Tinies aren’t much of a problem—not for you, anyway. You dont think they're gross.

In fact, you find them delicious.

You climb up to the attic, flashlight sweeping over boxes and dust-covered trunks.

you hear—the light, skittering sounds of tiny feet, racing around, trying to stay hidden. You don’t bother setting traps or luring them out. You’ve done this enough to know how to catch a tiny with your own hands.

“I know you’re in here,” you murmur. “Let’s not make this difficult.”

A rustle. One of them bolts—you see it, definitely a tiny- not a rat or anything else, maybe six inches tall. Its darting for a gap in the wood.

You lunge, faster, and scoop them up. They squirm in your palm. You don’t waste time. A quick toss, a parting scream, and then the tight, familiar sensation of something sliding down your throat.

You swallow, and feel the tiny land heavily in your stomach.

More movement in the attic.

there’s no escape.

Another darts for a box, and you catch them just as easily. One by one, they disappear down your gullet, bulging your throat for a moment before joining the others.

You pat your stomach as it begins to stretch, filled with wriggling, panicked tinies.

By the time you finish, you’re full—pleasantly so.

The attic is silent again, no more scurrying. Just you now, satisfied, stuffed, as you climb down.

The woman looks at your middle. She swallows. “You—uh. You got them all?”

You smile, wiping the corner of your mouth. “All taken care of.” you pat your full belly.

She pays you in cash. You head back to your truck, rubbing your belly as it gurgles over its new contents. Another job well done.

You pull out of the driveway, and head back towards the city, one hand on the wheel, one resting on your stuffed stomach.

You'd give yourself a break, you needed time to dispose of the pests properly. You never wanted to show up to a job already full.

You had another client scheduled in the evening. For now, you pulled into a roadside cafe

It's a favourite of yours, whenever you're in this area. A perfect place to hang around and digest.

You take a seat in the corner, shifting slightly to accommodate the fullness in your stomach. The tinies are settling now, movement staggering as digestion takes its course. You rest a hand over your gut, feeling the occasional twitch beneath your palm.

A waitress comes by, chewing gum, pen poised over her notepad. "What can I get ya?"

"Just coffee," you say. You don't need food.

In a few minutes, your drink arrives.

You sip your coffee, eyes half-lidded, and let yourself sink into the feeling. You do kinda like your job.

How do I gently express my concern to a fetish content creator that they might have a life threatening illness

Pred pressing you into their belly because you keep complaining about being cold to give them a hint to eat you, and as you're blushing they don't even tease you, and you realize they aren't even trying to be sexy, they're genuinely trying to help you get warm. You tell them you're still cold and they grab some of the biggest, comfiest blankets they can find, and set you down on the couch asking if you want a cup of hot chocolate. You're a little disappointed they aren't taking the hint but it isn't the worst thing that could've happened. You don't feel like getting eaten anymore, so you just remind yourself to try a more obvious hint next time, since clearly they're not good at taking them.

finallyyyy finished my longest piece of writing to date. as suggested by anon: sunny going all out for mariannes birthday

[hunger, all-day stuffing, hand-feeding, not nearly enough belly rubs, just a dollop of bondage]

Sunny woke up with a groan, holding his rumbling belly. He almost regretted not eating dinner last night. In fact, any other day he'd have regretted it badly. Today, though, he had plans, and he slid out of bed to get dressed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he pulled on his jeans and was surprised by how sunken and hollow his tummy looked--perfect. He winced as it growled angrily at him, but it would simply have to wait. After a moment of thought, he pulled on a snug little T-shirt that was just a hair too short, gathered up his bags, and made his way out.

Marianne had been working on her birthday yesterday, but she was off today, and she was waiting happily when Sunny arrived at her door. She smothered him in a big, warm embrace, lifting him off the ground, and greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy birthday," he said, smiling sweetly up at her. As if on cue, his belly let out a long, whining growl, clenching up right against Marianne. She looked down, an expression of faux surprise on her face.

"Oh, Sunny honey," she exclaimed, taking him by the waist. "I hope you didn't go starving yourself on my account! Oh, look at that poor empty tummy…" She traced a finger along the edge of his ribcage, and he squirmed at the tickling sensation.

"I brought pancake stuff," he said, holding up the bags--not pancake mix, but ingredients to make them from scratch.

"Oh, you are such a little sweetheart!" She pinched his cheek and pulled him inside.

Sunny made Marianne's serving first, and she held him from behind while he cooked, gently kneading at his empty, aching tummy, chin resting on his soft, dark curls. The smell of the pancakes was torture for his hungry belly, and it groaned impatiently against her hands. Finally, her breakfast was ready, and he plated the perfect golden pancakes with a handful of berries and a generous pat of butter.

"Aren't you eating, pumpkin?" She looked concerned as he sat her down with the single plate.

"I'm gonna make mine now," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Griddle's too small for the both of us."

That had all been part of the plan, of course; the sound of his rumbling belly tantalized her ears as she ate, almost delightfully torturous, and when he finally joined her at the table, she took him by the wrist as he tried to pick up his fork. He looked up, wide-eyed.

"Let me feed you," she purred, taking the fork in her own hand. Obediently, he turned toward her, and she cut off a bite from the pancakes. She moved slowly, taking care to sop up a little extra syrup, and paused for a moment to let a few drips fall before slowly lifting it toward Sunny's mouth. He leaned in for the bite, but just as it was almost touching his lips, she pulled it back. He let out a tiny whine, looking puppy-eyed at her.

"Hold on a moment," she said, holding the fork just out of reach. With her other hand, she carefully brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "There, that was driving me nuts. You know how it is when something's just driving you nuts?" Sunny gave a small, absent nod, his big dark eyes fixed on the fork. Smiling, she brought it to him once again, and this time she let him eat. After not eating since lunchtime the day before, he was beyond ravenous, and he barely chewed the bite of pancakes before swallowing it with a thick gulp. His stomach let out a gurgle upon receiving it, and his mouth watered for more.

"Don't eat so fast," Marianne scolded gently. "You'll make yourself sick!"

"I can't help it," he pouted, looking up at her. "I'm hungry." As if to emphasize his point, his tummy rumbled pitifully.

"Aww, pumpkin. Don't you worry, we'll fix that." She picked up another forkful of pancakes, and this time, she didn't tease. She fed him slowly, though, slowly and steadily, leaving just enough time between each bite for him to get a little restless. Still, he didn't complain. He waited patiently for each piece, gazing sweetly up at her, and the waiting gradually became easier as his stomach slowly filled up. The gnawing ache of hunger faded out, replaced with the comforting weight of fluffy bread in his belly.

There was a good dent in the pancakes now, and Sunny's tummy didn't look nearly as hollow as it had when he'd arrived, but it was still too flat for Marianne's liking. She upped the pace just a tiny bit--the teasing wasn't as fun now that he wasn't starving anymore--not too fast, of course; she didn't want to upset his belly before he was as full as he could be. She kept a steady pace, and even as he began to feel full, he obediently opened up for each bite. The hem of his shirt, just a smidge too short, came to rest just barely above the waist of his jeans, and she was enticed by that almost-invisible sliver of skin. It wouldn't take much to broaden it enough to fit a kiss.

"Feeling full yet, cutie pie?" Sunny shook his head, chewing on a mouthful of pancake. "Good, because you've got a lot more to get through," she said, one hand on his side, thumb gently rubbing at his belly. Had he been a dog, his tail would have been wagging up a storm. He was, contrary to his own fib, feeling full, but not full enough to quit on her, not yet. The pressure in his belly was slowly rising, though, and he found himself falling behind enough that she had the fork upon his lips before he was ready for more. She smiled, noticing that small change.

"You're not slowing down on me, are you, sweetheart? I know you're not full yet, your tummy's still rumbling." She knew perfectly well that the soft rumbles coming from Sunny's belly were sounds of digestion, as well as the gurgles of his stomach shifting its contents around as it tried to make space for each new bite. Hunger was a distant memory now, fogged over by pleasant fullness, his belly growing snug around the big breakfast and finally beginning to peek out at its feeder from under his shirt. She placed a hand on it, enjoying the way each breath swelled that gentle curve out against her palm, and fed him another forkful.

Only a small fraction of his breakfast remained on the plate, and getting it down was growing more difficult. Each big bite upped the pressure in his tightening belly. The almost-nonexistent sliver of exposed skin had grown a good inch or two as his too-small shirt slowly rode up, and the waist of his jeans hugged his expanding tummy tightly. If he hadn't started out absolutely ravenous, he probably wouldn't have been able to finish, but, at long last, the final bite came, and it just barely fit into his tightly-stuffed stomach. He fell back against his seat with a sigh, belly bulging slightly out in front of him. Had it not been for his ill-fitting little outfit, the bloating might not have even been noticeable, but the tiny shirt displayed his full tummy beautifully, and Marianne leaned in to plant a kiss on the hairy skin.

"I was worried you weren't gonna be able to finish all that," she said, hands gently caressing his sides. "You're such a good boy, Sunny honey." His heart fluttered, and he leaned forward to hug her, belt creaking as it strained to hold his swollen tummy. She kissed him on the forehead, then on the cheek, and then his lips, still sweet and slightly sticky with syrup.

Marianne tried to clean up, but Sunny insisted on doing it himself--you're the birthday girl, he reminded her--and she relented, simply to enjoy the view of him tidying up with that cute little tummy slowing him down. She could tell he was stuffed by the careful way he moved, and especially by the clear discomfort on his face when he leaned down to pick up a dropped towel. She especially enjoyed the way his belly pressed against the counter as he washed the dishes.

Finally, the cleaning was done, and Sunny was glad to flop down onto the living room couch with Marianne. He wasn't uncomfortable--that would likely come later, if things went according to plan--but he felt stuffed to the gills, his stomach taut and heavy and straining slightly to hold the big breakfast. Marianne pushed his shirt up further, fully exposing the curve of his middle, and kissed it again, and again, and again, until the whole surface of his sensitive tummy tickled with the feeling of kisses.

Sunny was still feeling full when noon came creeping up on the clock, and while the bloating had eased up a little with digestion, his tummy was still puffed out when the question of lunch arose. He hadn't planned anything--he wasn't sure whether Marianne would want a break before their dinner plans--but her interest was still on him, and she had leftover pasta in the fridge that she'd made the night before.

"It was good last night, but I think it'll be even better now that it's sat a little," she said. While Sunny wasn't particularly hungry, pasta was a definite weakness of his, and he couldn't say no, especially to her. Fortunately, she scooped him out a more conservative portion, knowing his tummy wouldn't be able to take much and that he'd need to take it easy if they were going to go out for dinner. Still, when they sat down at the round kitchen table with their lunch, that small portion seemed like an awful lot.

She was right about the quality--the light sauce had thickened up overnight, and it clung deliciously to the hearty noodles. Sunny let out a little hum of approval at the first bite. His stomach was less approving, still working on moving the big breakfast along, but the pasta was easy to eat, not too rich or oily, and he was surprised at how eager he felt to scoop up another mouthful.

"This is great," he said through a mouthful of pasta.

"You know how I feel about good food," she beamed, ruffling his fluffy hair.

It wasn't long before Sunny started feeling the weight of the pasta, and he paused, setting his fork down and leaning back with a soft sigh. He'd only eaten about half of his lunch, but his tummy was poking out snug now, protruding adorably over the waist of his pants. He rested both hands on it--it felt drum-tight, softly grumbling away as it worked hard on all the bulky carbs that had been packed into it--and took a moment to breathe, hoping his stomach might settle a little so he could finish.

"You're lookin' awfully full," Marianne teased, reaching out to give his belly a pat. It made a solid thumping sound, and she was pleased at how firm it felt, like patting a fuzzy melon. She had already finished her own portion, her appetite and capacity being much larger than his.

"I don't think I can fit much more," he confessed, looking sheepishly up at her. "Do you want some?"

"Mm, I think I wanna see how far you can get first," she purred. "I bet that cute little tummy can hold a few more bites, hm?" That was all the encouragement he needed. He picked up his fork, feeling just reenergized enough to scoop up another big forkful and keep going.

He made it through a few more bites with enthusiasm before the stretched feeling in his stomach slowed him down again. His belly was bulging hard now, and he could feel the enormous mass of carbs like a boulder jammed just under his ribs. Marianne rested a hand on it, rubbing the taut skin gently, taking in the way it strained just a little bit tighter with each breath. Sunny swallowed one more bite, then set his fork down once again.

"I'm too full," he sighed, falling limp in his seat.

"I think full is an understatement," said Marianne. Truthfully, he could probably have forced down a little more, but he didn't want to completely spoil their dinner plans. The way his belly felt right now, he wasn't too sure he hadn't already. He didn't feel queasy, but the pressure pushing out inside him was almost painful. A burp slipped out, followed by a little groan of discomfort.

"Poor Sunny honey, you look like you're about ready to pop." Marianne gently did his belt, and then the button of his jeans. She didn't have to unzip his fly; his tummy pushed it wide open without help. He let out a soft sigh of relief. He hadn't realized just how much his pants had been digging into his belly until now, and even through his thick belly hair, a sore red mark was visible around his waist.

Marianne swept him off to bed for an early afternoon nap, and they lay together in each other's arms, soothed by the gentle gurgling and grumbling of Sunny's overstuffed belly as it worked. With his pants now off and his shirt pushed up under his chest, his distended tummy was on full display, bulging absurdly from his skinny little frame, and Marianne couldn't keep away from it, rubbing and kissing and patting even as Sunny drifted in and out of consciousness. He was a limp, sleepy puddle in her arms, utterly blissed out despite the ache in his belly.

The two spent a good few hours together, snuggling and fooling around, Sunny taking care to treat Marianne with as much love as he could give. He was worried he might be too stuffed to make the most of dinner, but he managed to work off a good bit of that overstuffed feeling, and by the time he was on his way out so the two could take a break and freshen up before dinner, he determined that the evening would work out perfectly. He was still bloated enough that she could feel his belly pressing out against her as they hugged goodbye, and there was no hope of his shirt covering it all the way, but he didn't feel like he was about to burst anymore. They exchanged one final kiss, and, promising to pick her up in a couple hours, Sunny was on his way back home.

The first thing Sunny did upon returning was flop down onto the couch with a groan. While the pressure in his belly had eased up in the past few hours, he still felt bloated and weighed down, and he lay sprawled out on the couch for a few minutes just catching his breath and settling. He knew if he stayed there long enough he'd fall asleep and miss his date, though, so, reluctantly, he pushed himself up once again and dragged himself off to the bathroom for a long shower. The hot water helped to soothe his tummy, and when the heat and the steam finally overwhelmed him and he was ready for cool air once more, he emerged feeling unexpectedly rejuvenated. Still, he knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't take it easy, and once he was dried off, he relaxed until he was ready to get dressed and head out once more.

When Marianne answered the door later that evening, she almost didn't recognize the handsome little thing standing before her. He was dressed nicely in a snappy floral button down and corduroy pants complete with a heart-shaped belt buckle, and his hair was combed back out of his face. She noted with amusement that his clothes were a little looser-fitting than his usual style--she supposed he'd need that extra wiggle room--but his swollen belly was still visible. He greeted her with a small bouquet and a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh my goodness, look at you," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight. He couldn't hold back a groan of discomfort at the compression of his still-bloated tummy, but he gladly returned the hug, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Hope you're hungry," he said as they walked to the car. He'd talked Laurie into letting him borrow her decrepit minivan, fittingly named the Shit Brickhouse, but Marianne didn't care that their ride was considerably less spiffy than her date.

"You never told me where we're going," she said, half-questioning.

"Wouldn't be a surprise if I did, would it?" He leaned up to give her a peck on the cheek and opened her door.

Marianne only knew that Sunny was taking her somewhere nice, and she'd made sure to dress the part, wearing a cute pink dress and bright yellow kiss-shaped earrings. When he pulled up to the Maplewood, she was pleasantly surprised.

"Oh, I haven't been here in years," she said, excited. Not only did she recall the food being excellent, one of the interesting things she remembered about the restaurant was that they'd start the table off with both a warm loaf of bread and a dish of garlic bread, as well as a big salad. Glancing down at Sunny's belly, which was still poking out sweetly against his shirt, she suspected he'd be feeling stuffed before his entree even hit the table.

The two were seated at a little table near the back, out of sight of most of the restaurant, and it wasn't long before they were greeted with fresh bread and salad. Smiling slyly, Marianne cut Sunny a nice big piece before getting herself one.

"You couldn't have picked a better place," she said, passing him a slice of garlic bread as well. "You're a doll, Sunny honey." He gave her a fond smile and dished out a plate of salad for each of them.

Marianne's prediction had been generous--not only was Sunny full before they got their dinners, he was full by the time they were finished looking over the menu. Still, he ordered a saucy seafood pasta dish, as did she. He tried to lay off the bread until they had their entrees, trying to conserve some tiny scrap of space, but it was hard not to pick at it, especially with the salad dressing to dip it in, and when the waiter returned with a steaming plate for each of them, Sunny wasn't hungry in the slightest. He was determined to put forth his best effort for Marianne, though, and geared himself up for the first bite.

The pasta was delicious, and the sauce was mercifully light. Despite his full stomach, it wasn't difficult to eat a good amount, although he certainly felt the space it took up as it expanded his already carb-packed belly even further. With breakfast and lunch still hanging around in his system, his guts felt stretched taut, and he was very aware of the sensation of his belly growing fuller and fuller with each bite.

Marianne, who was having no trouble at all with her appetite, watched Sunny's tummy as she ate. His shirt wasn't as tight as the ones he usually wore, but it was certainly straining around his middle. His belly looked absolutely packed to the brim, bulging over the waist of his pants, tensing with each shallow breath, too distended to properly expand. She could see the full weight of everything he'd eaten today pushing out the walls of his belly, and the thought of the pressure building in his stomach as he ate nearly set her ablaze.

Sunny ate slowly, trying to pace himself. He knew there was no way he'd be able to finish the full plate of pasta without exploding, but he was determined to get down as much as he could for Marianne. Fortunately, miraculously, he still didn't feel ill, just bloated to the point of aching, and he hoped to keep it that way. If any nausea set in, his after-dinner plans would be shot.

"Y'know, Sunny honey, you really are the best," Marianne said fondly, smiling at him with her chin in her hand. "I hope you won't go making yourself sick on my account. Your poor tummy looks like it's about to pop."

"I'm alright," he said, and she gave him a skeptical look. "Honest!" His stomach would have told a different story--stop feeding me, I'm about to burst!--but for the most part, he meant it. He would squeeze in a few more bites, but he intended to quit while he was ahead; the real finale would come later.

The final few bites came and went, each more difficult to swallow down than the last, and he finally couldn't take any more. His stomach felt stretched to its absolute limit. Despite having worn his belt a hole looser than usual, the heart-shaped buckle was pressing hard into his belly, and the buttons on his shirt were in as much danger of bursting as he was. He wanted to lean back and free his aching tummy from its constraints, but it would have to wait until they were home, or at least in the car. The adoring look on Marianne's face made the discomfort worth every moment.

Sunny was a little embarrassed to walk back through the restaurant with his belly bulging so noticeably, but once they were back in the car he undid his belt and his fly with a heavy sigh of relief. His stomach let out a low grumble as it settled, and he carefully buckled up and began the drive home. Marianne kept a comforting hand on his belly throughout the ride, taking in the unbelievable tautness and the way it tensed up and rumbled each time a much-needed burp slipped out.

"Oh, Sunny honey, you're gonna need one hell of a belly rub tonight," she said sympathetically. She was eager to be the one to tend to his overtaxed tummy. Out of all the dates they'd enjoyed together, she couldn't recall ever having seen him as stuffed as he was right now. No longer held in place by his pants, his shirt had begun to ride up over the impressive curve of his belly, and she would have sworn his belly button was almost popping out.

"I made something for you, if it's alright," he said as they came to his door.

"Aww, sweetheart. You really know how to spoil a girl," she said, holding him gently around the waist. He opened it up and followed her inside, then led her to the kitchen. Waiting on the counter inside a nice glass dish was a big beautiful chocolate cake, topped with strawberries and Sunny's best attempt at nice handwriting in bright pink frosting: "Happy Birthday Marianne!" Sitting beside the dish was a roll of red satin ribbon as bright and shining as the berries.

"Oh, Sunny, it's wonderful," she exclaimed, and she turned to plant a big kiss on his forehead. "Dare I ask what the ribbon's for?"

"Whatever you want it to be for," he said, smiling innocently up at her.

Marianne had a way with ribbon, and when she was finished tying Sunny to the kitchen chair, he looked like a beautiful present, decorated with perfect bows fit for a shop window display. His big dark eyes followed her as she worked, gazing sweetly up at her, and finally she pulled another chair up before him.

"You're not really still hungry, are you, pumpkin?"

"There's always room for dessert," he quipped, and she laughed.

"Well, if you insist, I guess it would be heartless to leave you hanging." She cut a slice from the cake and sat down, close enough for her knees to interlace with his. She plucked the strawberry from the top and let him take a bite of it, then finished the rest of the berry off herself before scooping up a forkful of cake. It was a small forkful; as much as she'd have liked to stuff the whole thing right into him, she knew his belly must have been teetering at its limit, and though she'd gladly take care of him, she didn't want to push him into a full-blown bellyache.

"Now, you just let me know when you're full, cutie pie," she said, "otherwise, we'll stop when this bow comes undone." She tapped on his drum-tight belly, which she'd wrapped the ribbon tightly around and finished off with a big beautiful bow. He nodded obediently, and when she brought the fork to his lips, he opened up.

She fed him slowly, pausing here and there to give him sips of ginger ale between bites. His stomach let out tiny gurgles with each swallow, straining to fit anything more, and, incredibly, he could feel the ribbon around his middle growing tighter. He didn't think his belly could possibly have expanded any further after dinner, but the ribbon pulling into his bulging sides as his stomach pushed the bow out further was undeniable proof of it. Still, he didn't think it could stretch far enough to undo the bow; he'd burst before his belly could get that big.

Bite by bite, the plate slowly emptied and Sunny's stomach, impossibly, grew fuller. For a moment he thought he might actually finish the piece she'd cut, but it would be close. She rubbed at his side with one hand as she fed him, plate sitting on her lap. She was astonished that he hadn't tapped out yet. There was only a small chunk of cake left on the plate. Gradually, that chunk diminished, each strained gulp punctuated with a soft moan of discomfort, and finally, there was only one bite left.

"Oohh… I don't think I can do it," he groaned, head tipping back. "I'm too f--" He was cut off by a hiccup, and, to both their astonishment, the jolt knocked the knot of slippery ribbon loose and the bow fell undone. They stared down at his belly in shock. It was remarkably distended, jutting out alarmingly beneath his ribs and bulging at the sides, pushing out so far in front of him that he wouldn't have been able to see his feet if he were standing. They looked up, eyes meeting, and laughed.

"Sunny honey, you're incredible," she grinned.

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.

arctic merman and lost arctic explorer

[i will turn this into a comic eventually i promise]

"g-good g-g-god it's freezing out here"

"yknow my mouth is always open if you wanna hop in~ i mean it's warm...and uh...warm"

"i i w-will not feed myself to you, you perverted s-s-siren"

"aw cmon...it's so sad seeing you all cold like this when my organs are right here. i mean they're super warm. doesn't being wrapped up in a sack of flesh inside my tummy sound comfy?"

"i won't yield myself to an agent of the devil! also that does not sound nice at-t-t-t all

[gurgle] "it gets a lot colder at night..."

"..."

"but my tummy stays nice and warm. i mean look at this blubber, it's not just for show~"

"f-fine! you can eat me!"

minors dni

I need to do another weigh-in bc I pulled my seat back in my car too fast and the whole car shook 😵‍💫

poor little guy is hungry.. surely you'll let him take a sip?

ouugh I love tiny vampire guy.. I have 2 more parts (4 panels) planned but perhaps if there are lovely kofi tippers I'll add some more :>

part 1 (you are here) || part 2 || part 3

In honor of tumblr banning feedism let's take a moment to remember Sherlock Holmes being like "hello Watson every time I see you your waistcoat's a little bit tighter, and I'm noticing that a normal amount" in like 1890. Lighting a candle. Pouring one out for the noticing it a normal amount community

"mmmm whesh dosh dat come frommmm"