Hi, you can call me Teeth. He/him or it/its for pronouns.
If you wanna know my main, DM me for it. I'm kinda shy and I don't want my main getting harassed for my NSFW stuff lol
Kink/fandom list under the cut
Main kinks
- safe vore
- inflation, mostly liquids
- pregnancy/impregnation
- tbh I just like belly stuff in general, it's cute
- furry
- mechanical stuff
- BDSM/bondage
Lesser kinks, AKA stuff I'm really picky about
- gore
- diagrams/graphs
- this really specific revenge fantasy of killing one's rapist/abuser
Squicks that are common in the above lists
- death/snuff, especially in regards to vore. Sometimes it's fine but I usually only like it when I make that type of content. I'm so picky about it that it didn't even make it to the "picky about it" list
- continuing that line of thought, I dislike fatal vore. Digestion with reformation is cool and good but I don't like fatal. Makes me sad :(
- rape
- necrophilia
- wasteplay
- not popular amongst the kinks I've listed (to my knowledge), but I do still want to note that I'm not into incest or pedophilia
Fandoms I'm most likely to post about
- transformers
- furry stuff
- urghhh I'll update this list as stuff occurs to me đ
Taglist
Valveplug: general tag for cybertronians fucking and sucking, be it sticky, plug n play, spark, whatever
Chubformers: transformers specific belly/fat kink tag
Transvoremers: transformers specific vore tag
Visceraposting: anything to do with guts, gore, and blood- from medical diagrams to cannibalism art. Probably going to be used in tandem with more specific tags for my fellow picky ass bitches
Vore: vore
Penis prattle: tag for my own original posts made on this blog
Machinery: videos/photos of machines that I find sexy
Body horror: a good number of the things I find hot can have body horror elements to them. This is a plus for me, maybe not for everyone else. Largely categorizational for me to indulge my inner freakster
All other tags are usually just descriptors of the post content- #art for art, #video for video, #[character] for a character, etc.
Every time I wind up attracted to a human character, every time I find them sexy, I never actually want to have sex with them. The appeal is in the distance.
Digestion that leaves the bones, I just really do not like the visuals... And I'm not into fatal in general, so that's an extra point against it
13- favorite vore trope
CUM DIGESTION WITH REFORMATION, either with the prey literally being remade from cum or just spawning back in (so they can be filled with the them-cum <3) Honestly, I like nonfatal digestion in general, it's very hot imo
21- big, wiggly, noticable belly, or prey that disappears into the pred's body?
It really depends! Big bellies are so cute and hot, but stealth prey... Mmm.... That makes for good plots... I'd say I prefer big bellies in visual mediums and small bellies in written mediums then, ig.
1. Whatâs your favourite type of vore?
2. Willing or unwilling?
3. Whatâs a non-vore kink that you think pairs nicely with vore?
4. 1 pred and 1 prey stand before you. Wyd?
5. One big prey item or multiple smaller prey items?
6. Do you like your vore to be âsfwâ or explicitly sexual (visible genitals, sex before/during/after, etc)?
7. Whatâs your ideal pred and prey size?
8. Whatâs your preferred vore media? Drawings, animation (2D or 3D), writing, audio, etc?
9. Are there any vore types that you didnât think you liked, but warmed up to over time?
10. How did you first discover vore? Did you know you were into it right away?
11. Would you rather pred and prey who love each other, are enemies, or total strangers?
12. Which vore tropes frustrate you the most?
13. Whatâs your favourite vore trope?
14. Gentle and loving or cruel and objectifying?
15. Would you rather watch others participate in a vore scene, or be watched while you participated in one yourself?
16. Do you have a preferred species of pred/prey?
17. Whatâs the most enticing part of vore and why?
18. Clean, empty stomach or a belly full of other food?
19. If you enjoy digestion, do you prefer complete digestion or indigestible evidence of prey such as bones and/or clothing?
20. Voring/getting vored secretly (hiding any belly bulge, disposing of evidence) or loud and proud?
21. Large wriggling belly or prey that disappears unnoticed into the preds body?
22. Whatâs a piece of vore media that you really enjoyed recently?
23. Do you have an all-time favourite piece of vore media?
24. Do you have a favourite vore artist/writer/animator/etc?
25. Describe your ultimate vore fantasy in as much detail as possible!
Doing a new Jazz pairing I donât think Iâve done yet⊠it felt perfect for this request!
Chubformers drabble #367!
Characters: Jazz & Blaster (G1)
Word count: 1.7k
Outside of the trouble those nagging âCons were always causing for everyone else, there wasnât anything about earth that Jazz hadnât grown to love. The diversity of life and nature all around them had drawn him in from the start, and the more he got to know about earth and its inhabitantsâboth big and small, speaking or notâthe more fond of everything he became. There was just something special about a planet like earth. There was something in the atmosphere that put him at ease, and whenever he could, Jazz was out and about and enjoying all there was to see, hear, and experience in their new environment.
Jazz ran pretty cool for the most part, and style was kind of his thing. He took pride in his role amongst the Autobots, and he was always pushing the love for both worlds whenever he could. Earth was no Cybertron, but it still had its own charm. With the right kind of company and the right introduction to the planetâs culture, anyone could make themselves feel a little more at home in their new home.
Just like he prided himself on his flexibility and that impressive skill of simply âletting the rough stuff roll of his back,â as Blaster always put it, Jazz took great care in owning his style and his identity on earth. He liked what the planet had to offer, and he loved being able to become apart of the community around them, but sometimesâŠ
âŠwell, sometimes it only took a pebble caught in the gears to throw even the most easygoing bot off-balance, and Jazz was no exception.
The brief conversation heâd had with a few fellow Autobots that morning had left his metaphorical feathers ruffled and his good mood a little dampened. It was the worst possible timing, too, because today was his off-day, and the whole afternoon ahead of him until late evening had all been booked off for some very exciting plans heâd put together with the help of his beloved companion Blaster.
Things were going to be fine, of course, and Jazz wasnât about to bail on any of the activities theyâd put togetherâespecially not when said activities involved good food, better music, and a great group of humans to meet up with later that day after everything was said and doneâbut Jazz⊠wasnât exactly feeling like his usual self anymore. In fact, the longer he sat on the edge of his berth and waited for Blaster to swing by and drag him off to their first stop of the day, the more his spark began to sink with the weight of some very unintentionally painful words tossed around just hours before.
Jazzâs frown was small and wobbly as he slouched forward, his attention fixed on the slight pudge that protruded outward from his middle in a row of soft, small rolls. He poked at each one before pinching the bulk of the fat between his fingers and giving it a jiggle, his frown deepening as he groaned out an unsatisfactory sound in the back of his throat.
He wasnât fat, per seâat least, not in the way he was starting to think of himself to be. The silly banter heâd had going between himself and a few others that morning was nothing to be stressing himself out over, but the longer he sat with their voices echoing in his head, the more he found himself wanting to dig his fingers into the bulk of his frame and squeeze, assessing for himself just how big he had allowed himself to become.
He was a hefty mech by nature, and his build was naturally made to be bulky and thick. It didnât mean that he was fat, though, and even if it had, who was he to care? He had always liked the excess mesh packed onto his sides, and he liked the way his belly spilled outward whenever he had found the perfect position to relax into. He was chunky, for sure, and maybe that did translate to being a fat mech, but really⊠who cared if he was?
Not him. He never did. He never had a reason to⊠until now.
Jazz nearly startled when he heard the sound of his door creaking open, the noisy barrage of excited knocking coming from the other side only leaving a split second for him to react before the new arrival was bursting through. Blaster stood in the doorway with a bright smile and even brighter optics, and he threw his servos up into the air with a gleeful shout of âJazz!â before dropping them back down and propped them on his hips.
âHey, mech!â he said, nodding his helm to his partner. âSorry to keep you waiting for so long. Just had to wrap up a few things before we left, but⊠ahhh, Iâd say weâre ready!â
With only a second to break out of his slump, Jazz tried hard to put on a quick smile and drop his servos to his sides. He put on a small smile and pushed himself up onto his pedes, the thrill and excitement of the day ahead already working to lift his spirits back up.
âIâm ready if you are,â he said as crossed his arms over his chest, feeling all too aware anymore of the way his chunky frame must have appeared. âWhatâs first on the agenda? Music? Grab snacks and go?â
Blaster was nearly halfway through his response as he moved further into the room, and Jazz had begun to relax when he realized his little slip up had gone undetected. However, knowing Jazz as well as he did, it was no surprise to him when Blaster stopped midway through rattling off all of the possibilities they could use to start their dayâs adventures to stop and stare at Jazz with an unreadable expression.
âAlright, hold on a second,â he said, his optics narrowing as he crossed his arms in a similar fashion. âYouâve got a weird look on your faceâone of those looks that says âIâm not fine but Iâm totally trying to play it off as though I were fine.ââ
As he stepped closer, Jazz stepped back. He found himself pressed against the edge of the berth again as Blaster moved in, stopping just short of their frames touching. His gaze roamed as he studied Jazzâs face and watched him shift, and his frown grew more and more the longer Jazz went without voluntarily admitting to the problem at hand.
âI know that look,â Blaster said softly. âWhat happened, Jazz? Did someone say something to you about you taking the day off again?â
âNo,â Jazz said with a shake of his helm. âItâs nothing, Blaster. Really, itâs nothing.â
It was something, though, and while he was a pro at the whole brushing stuff off thing, he knew Blaster knew him well enough to be able to tell when something was stuck fast.
âSomeone said something, didnât they?â Blaster said. âSlag, Jazz, Iâm sorry. Itâs no biggie, okay? Weâre fine! Weâve already got Optimusâ approval for this, and when we get out there, weâre going to have a greatââ
âDo I look fat to you?â Jazz suddenly blurted out, his servos finding their way back around the curves of his belly and the thick circumference of his waist. âI mean, I know always thought I looked pretty thick, but⊠am I actually fat?â
Blaster went silent, his mouth agape and his optics blinking. It took him a moment to process the question, and it took him even longer to stutter out a shocked answer, but the whole time, Jazz stood there in front of him, nervously chewing away at his lower lip.
âIâyou⊠fat?â he repeated as he raised his brows. âJazz⊠I mean, no. No, youâre⊠yeah, youâre on the thicker side, and you might pass yourself off as a little chubby on a good day, butâŠâ
Blaster moved closer still, and this time, Jazz didnât shy away. He didnât move as his partnerâs servos came to rest on either side of him, Blasterâs warm fingers curling into the soft grooves atop his hips and massaging the pudgy mesh that layered the areas between his plating.
âOkay,â he said, âletâs say you are fat. What exactly does that change, huh? You still look great, Jazz, and⊠damn, I mean, the look suits you. You look good fat.â
Jazz couldnât help but snort at that, and Blaster quickly started again, his words a jumbled mess as he hugged Jazz more tightly.
âYouâre thick, yeah. Youâre⊠youâre chunkyâletâs call it that, chunky. So⊠what? Youâre chunky, Jazz. You look great chunky. Itâs your frame, itâs your style, it⊠I mean, it just suits you, you know?â
âOkay, okay! I get the point,â Jazz said when his giggles finally died down and Blasterâs servos had stopped wandering. âSo⊠chunky. Thick, maybe. FatâŠ?â
âIf you want to call it that, sure,â Blaster said with a shrug. âThe point is, you look good like this. You look great, actually. Itâs you, Jazz, and⊠I like you.â
It was Jazzâs turn to flush under the affectionate admission, and he snorted again as Blaster leaned in to give him a good, long nuzzle.
âBlaster! I believe you!â he laughed as Blaster leaned in closer, their frames pressed together as Blaster clung to him. âYouâve made your point, and now youâre gonna make us late if you keep it up!â
âHey,â Blaster said, stopping briefly to let their helms touch, âIâm not going anywhere until I know youâre good again.â He paused, his servo gently patting Jazzâs side, then said, âyouâre perfect, Jazz⊠and if you need a reminder of that, all youâve gotta do is ask.â
Jazz knew that well and good now. He knew the truth for himself, too, despite the little comments that had dug under his skin. It was nice to hear, though, and it was even nicer to be reminded. With Blaster, he knew he would never have the doubts again, but slag⊠after this? All in jest, of course, but he was almost hoping he would.
Ratchet growled out in pain as he was tossed atop Megatronâs throne and forced to sit and endure the cruel laughter coming from above him. Megatron stood looming over his latest catch with a look of twisted glee as he watched Ratchet squirm, but his attention wasnât on the catch, nor was it on this particular prize.
âI can see why the Prime has become so possessive of his beloved pet anymore,â he said with a chuckle as he waited Ratchet to finally settle. âComfortable, dear doctor?â
Ratchet was far too aware of the way his belly wobbled and shook atop his lap as he stilled against the throneâs cold seat. It was the most prominent piece on his soft, pudgy frame anymore, and he could tell Megatron was staring right at it. With faint stretch marks covering the stretched mesh and his abdominal plating all but gone, Ratchet felt big, vulnerable, and a lot like the juiciest piece of prey on the battlefield for Megatron to snatch away.
His belly was bigâbigger than it had ever been before, and he knew it was obvious. He was built to carry extra weight, and he was made for a soft frame, but this? The several rolls he had gained that finally formed into one big round mound that took over his entire midsection?
It was nothing but fat that he carried, and he knew it. His belly had grown soft to the touch, his mesh adapted to the heavy load, and Ratchet couldnât help but grimace as Megatron bent low and reached out a claw to poke at its delicate curve.
âHow cute,â Megatron snarled, his smile dangerous as he watched Ratchetâs belly tremble beneath his touch. âYouâve grown since I last saw you, doctor. How long has it been now? Weeks? Months?â
Ratchetâs face was hot with shame as Megatron stroked his belly. He gasped as Megatron pressed his palm against the chunky sides, and he yelped when Megatron grabbed a fistful and gave it a gentle shake.
âOptimus must be pleased,â Megatron continued, lifting his helm just long enough to meet Ratchetâs fearful optics. âHis beloved medic, fattened up and well fed.â
Ratchet didnât respond. He didnât dare speak.
It had been months since his last run in with Megatron, and after that incident, Optimus had become far more worried and overprotective of him than usual. He hadnât minded at first. He would stay behind and watch the monitor screen most days anyway. However, when more and more of his own duties were taken on by others, and when he was no longer going out on missions or joining the rest of the team in battle, things started to get out of hand.
He was all but sitting around anymore and watching himself gain. Optimus never stopped encouraging him to refuel properly now that he was safe in the base and able to, and because it was Optimus, Ratchet never refused.
He probably should have, he realized as Megatronâs hungry gaze raked across his plump frame. He probably should have fought to go on more missions and help out more around the base. He probably should have refused the extra rations and stopped when the weight gain became too much. He should have done something, anything⊠but he hadnât.
He had known this would cause an issue later down the line, and now, the issue was here, with Megatron.
Just as Ratchet had known better than to let himself grow so weak, heâd known not to go on that high speed chase after the rest of his team called it quits. He shouldnât have tried to chase those Cons back here, and he should have left it be when he heard Megatronâs voice. He hadnât done that, either, and he was paying for it now.
As Megatron rose back up to his full height, his gaze never wavered. He was staring down at Ratchet with an almost animalistic smile, his fangs glinting in the light, his optics cruel.
âYouâve traveled far, Ratchet,â he said, his servos never leaving Ratchetâs belly. âYou must be famished after such exertions. Let me make it up to youâlet me help replenish your strength before you go running back to your beloved base and your beloved Prime.â
Ratchet wanted to refuse, but Megatron was pulling away, turning back to his storage. He returned with his arms full of cubes and the cubes full of fuel, and right then and there, Ratchet knew he wasnât getting out of this without a bit of discomfort.
Ratchet tried to resist. He tried to turn his helm away, and he tried to curse Megatronâs name as the first cube was lifted to his lips. Megatron was strong, though, and he was insistent. By the time Ratchet had given up and given in, he was already three cubes down⊠and he was left with plenty more to go.
Megatron practically worshiped Ratchetâs belly as he forced the medic to drink. His servo was all over the soft mesh while he lifted cube after cube to Ratchetâs servos, and his fingers were stroking soothing lines across the taut fat. He was pinching and groping, poking and stroking, and he was purring all the while with praise that tumbled into Ratchetâs audials as he struggled to down another container of energon.
âThatâs it,â Megatron would purr, his servo patting Ratchetâs belly as he held the rim of a cube to Ratchetâs lips. âDrink, Ratchet. Drink some more.â
When he finally finished, his belly was swollen, the mesh stretched tight across the dramatic curve, and his tanks were filled well beyond the brim. Megatron was still on him, kneading his belly with both servos and leaving trails of kisses against the mesh wherever he heard Ratchetâs tanks grumble in protest. He was practically enamored with it, and he was so pleased with his catch.
âIâll let you return,â he said between nibbles at the pudgy rolls on the sides of Ratchetâs hips, âbut only after Iâve ensured my favorite captive is tended to properly.â
Ratchet couldnât help but shudder at that. He hated to enjoy this⊠he hated to accept it⊠but he did. Gladly and begrudgingly, he did.
âAnd oh, Ratchet,â Megatron whispered as Ratchet leaned back, exposing his belly with a desperate sound, âwe have months and months of time to make up for.â
It should have been a threat, but right now, Ratchet could only hear a promise.
For his own sake, and the future of his little ones, Skyfire had decided to take a rest from all things work and lab. Carrying had come upon him slowly, and while he still did his research here and there via exploring through datapads from the comfort of his berth, all hard work was at a hard stop for the time beingâand, as far as he could tell, until long after his little ones had arrived safely and soundly.
Being confined to his berth for the duration of the carrying cycle wasnât so bad, really. He was quite comfortable in the big, large slab with all of the blankets and snacks and other worldly comforts the rest of his team brought to him, and with his room set to be as warm and cozy as he liked it at all times, Skyfire hardly ever even wanted to leave. He could spend his days scrolling through logs and gathering all of info he could on carrying, and he could do as much or as little research as he liked in the wake of his temporary absence, which he did, too⊠but mostly on carrying.
As much as he had enjoyed the process, Skyfire was far into it now, and blessedly so. He was nearing the end after many months spent growing bigger and bigger, and with only a few weeks to go before his sparklingsâ scheduled emergences, Skyfire couldnât be more ready.
He was bigger than ever now, and his belly weighed him down heavily when he wasnât confining himself to his berth. Research had helped ease his processor from the start, and with Ratchetâs reassurance so far that everything was going as planned, Skyfire was nothing more than simply ready to be done with it.
Berth rest was important from here on out, Ratchet had told him. Things were looking good, and his little ones were as healthy as could be, but until the day of their emergence came⊠well, Skyfire was expected to rest, rest, rest.
Resting was the easy part, Skyfire thought. Even the research wasnât all that bad from his berth. He was comfortable and had access to all of his reports, and he could have asked for nothing more.
Between Ratchetâs advice, his own findings, and the occasional support of his team, Skyfire almost considered this carrying to be one of the easiest ever in the world. There was only one issue, really, and that issue was what kept him from granting his carrying experience that title.
At this point in his pregnancy, a big, hefty belly wasnât the only issue Skyfire was facing. He was having a heck of a lot more difficulty with his energon reserves, actually, and as Ratchet put itâever so bluntly nut not too unkindlyâhis big, sagging, leaky tits were perfect for the bitlets to come. In the meantime, howeverâŠ
Skyfire almost couldnât lift himself up high enough atop the berth to reach around his belly and assess the chronic issue he was having. His belly protruded forward by a good bit, pinning him in place and blocking his efforts at moving anytime he wasnât sat with a datapad resting atop its curve. Sitting on top of it and coming in at nearly the same size when bunched together, his energon refineries were just as big, just as heavy, and weighed him down nearly twice as much, even when he was sitting.
It was normal, Ratchet had told him, especially for a mech of his size and frame type. Leaky refineries certainly werenât unheard of in any carrying situation. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that his happened to be so⊠productive.
The most important thing Skyfire had gotten out of that conversation was that it was normal, albeit a little uncomfortable. Unfortunately, according to his research, since the issue had started so early on, it was also going to last him until the end of his pregnancy.
The best solution for it? Bed rest, staying on top of his refuel, and whatever means he could find to contain the mess in the meantime.
Begrudgingly, Skyfire accepted this. It was a good thing to be in the know about it, just like it was a good thing to know that it was, unfortunately, perfectly normal for him. Knowing it was normal didnât make it any less of a nuisance, though, and as he progressedâgetting bigger and bigger and less able to maneuver on his ownâit became more of a problem for him to solve than anything.
After giving up on his research for the day when his sore nipples wouldnât stop protesting the ties wrapped around them, Skyfire sighed before tossing his datapad aside and pushing himself up until he was sat upright and leaning back against the wall. His refineries were working in overtime anymore, and no matter how hard he tried to keep the fuel contained, there was just no stopping it from leaking out.
As much as he hated it, he simply had to go back to the basics.
Skyfire groaned as he peeled off the sticky ties from his nipples one at a time, wincing at each one as the ache in his tits turned into a relieving burn that lessened as the excess energon built up inside starting leaking free again. The top of his belly was stained with fuel by the time heâd managed to free his other nipple from the makeshift ties, but Skyfire didnât even bother to begin cleaning the mess just yet. He was still so, so terribly sore, and it would only be a matter of time before he was mopping up another puddle of energon again if he did.
With careful fingers, he cupped the underside of his refineries and massaged them both in slow, kneading circles. Spurts of energon squeezed out and stained his belly with every little bit of pressure he placed on them, but the little bit of mess left to clean up was worth the reward and the relief that came from finally feeling the ache inside them lessen.
âOhhh, PrimusâŠâ Skyfire groaned under his breath, scooting himself further back until his belly was propped up and high in the air and his tits were resting just below it. âMm⊠this is tough.â
He was speaking to his little ones again, though he knew they probably couldnât hear them. Still, he kept groaning away as he worked the tension out of his chest before leaving his tits to sag on either side of him while he moved on to massaging the taut mesh of his belly, the armor and plating around it long gone.
âItâs hard work being a carrier,â he said with a soft chuckle as his servos tenderly stroked over the curve of his belly and rested atop its bump. âWorth it for you little ones, but boy⊠Iâm worn out!â
He could feel their sparks pulsing just beneath the surface, their life forces thrumming in time with his. His smile softened at the corners as he rubbed gentle circles over top of them, and he chanced a moment to close his optics and feel them, if only for a few seconds.
âRatchet says it should only be a few weeks now,â Skyfire murmured aloud as he rubbed his belly. âOnly a few more weeks before I get to see you guys⊠I still canât believe it.â
Sometimes he couldnât even believe it was real. It was when he felt their little sparks pulsing inside of him, his belly big and round under his touchâŠ
âŠand slag, his refineries leaking all down his sides and staining the fresh new blanket he had just laid down.
Skyfire pushed himself back up slowly, groaning all the while. A pile of fresh rags lay sitting beside him on the nightstand, courtesy of Ratchetâs checkup earlier that morning. He hated to use so much stuff to clean himself up with, but with his tits leaking as much as they were and his belly getting bigger by the dayâŠ
âYeah,â Skyfire said with a shrug as he reached over his belly and strained to grab them. âNngh⊠guess I donât really have a choice, do I?â
Not in the slightest. The late stages of carrying were going to be some of the hardest, and between being confided to his berth, taking in his big new size, and these hefty leaking tits of his, Skyfire wasnât sure how he managed it.
It was all worth it, he knew, every last minute. Despite all of the struggles that cameâlike holding rags to his nipples and tutting over the way his fuel refineries still leaked right throughâhe also knew he, too, loved every last second.
