#does this count?

[gloomshroomofdoom]

These kids can’t catch a break

[krispykremedetective]

You had discovered this seemingly untouched paradise a few months ago, while on a solo trip, making camp whenever the sun threatened to set. You have never seen anything like it, truly; a stunning, wide waterfall into a massive lake, surrounded by foliage and trees that quickly thickened mere yards from the lake itself. Enticing flowers, soft native grasses, preening ferns, all encased by tall, withstanding, trees with an abundant of leaves.

You hadn't expected what lurked in the pond, but you had seen the teasing of a cave opening behind the waterfall. It was hot, you had been walking, and you were sweaty, and most of all- alone, so you thought. Surely a quick dip would hurt, right?

You dropped your gear far enough away to not get wet, stripped your clothes and laid them out to dry, and swam into the lake, brushing past what felt like water plants.

It was but mere minutes of splashing about and enjoying yourself when, suddenly, what you thought was a plant quickly wrapped itself around your leg, another taking your other leg, and as what felt like suckers began to stick to your legs for a better grip, you realized that what you had brushed was not, in fact, plant-like at all.

Too little, too late- suddenly there were more tentacles- because these had to be tentacles, even if they belonged to no octopus or squid on the planet- began to brush against you, wind around your waist to better hold you in place despite all your efforts to struggle out.

And then, one of them, a much thicker-feeling one, brushed against your most sensitive spot, and your body reacted as all bodies do, and whatever it was that had you seemed to know it too.

You didn't even have time to gasp, before that tentacle was teasing your folds, finding your warming hole, and burrowing in.

Any sound you would have made was cut off by the sudden rush of being filled, and then the tentacle continued to push in even further, stretching you out, stuffing your pussy full, and then going even further- past your cervix, which oddly enough didn't even hurt.

You felt hot, all over but especially in your core and your clit and your hole. You felt yourself getting wet, despite being in the water. You had stopped struggling the moment the tentacle found its way inside you and had opened your legs wider, to allow more of it in.

The tentacle made its way into your warm, ready womb, and began to feel around, pushing and prodding at different areas, before oh-so-slowly retreating. You swore you were there for entire minutes as it pulled out of you.

Once it did, you heavily mourned its loss, but you had barely a moment to brace as you were pulled forward, into the waterfall and then behind it into the cave and then further, away from the sunlight and into the dark, where the tentacles glowed but not enough to reveal what had you.

You were laid on the stone floor where it sloped into the water, your bottom half submerged, and the tentacles wrapped around you again and spread your legs as far as they could go, except this time more held you down by the torso, entwining around your plump tits, and bound your arms above you.

You watched in odd anticipation as a tentacle that had to be even thicker than the last felt you down, teased your fold open much like the last one, and bulled into your hole without hesitation. You were filled up almost immediately, and then stretched further than you thought possible, and a single, short and utterly filthy moan escaped you.

The tentacle thrust into you as much as possible, but it didn't go past your cervix, and instead seemed to pull out of you almost as slowly as the last one- this creature was fucking you.

And you felt nothing but pleasure and heat and the need for more- you wanted it to fill you to the brim, to burrow into your womb like the last one and stay there.

It was teasing you by pulling out so slowly. You whined and moaned and wordlessly begged. When it was just the tip left, it paused, and the excitement you felt at getting split again waned when it did nothing, just stayed there. You began to get restless, and frustrated, and needy.

And when you least expected it, it thrust into you again as fast as before, trying to fit even more of itself into you, and all you could do was shout in ecstasy.

When it pulled out, it went faster, and didn't wait for anything before bulling into you again. With every retreat, it got faster, and faster, and faster, and next thing you knew you were laying there getting endlessly fucked by it, no space to breath, constant whimpers and cute moans and trembling limbs. The tentacles coiled around your breasts began to squeeze in time, and suckers latched onto your nipples to suck in time, and next thing you knew you were approaching the edge-

And then, with one last, massive, fast fuck, it billowed in you, and pushed past your cervix, where you felt the tip expanding, and everything... stopped?

You whined, high and loud and slutty, looking down at where your pussy was stretched around a glowing tentacle, only to see something inside stretching the limb around it, moving down, down, down... to your entrance, where it stopped.

The creature tensed the muscles behind the egg, thrust the tentacle deeper into you, where the bulbous shape pushed past your folds, pushing against the walls of your pussy even more than the tentacle had, and you keened, higher than you thought possible for you and echoing throughout the cave, as it slowly inched its way further in, slipping past your cervix and into your womb, where you felt a rush of something, and the round shape settle into you. It was laying its eggs in you.

You had never been so wet.

Eagerly, you opened your legs impossibly wider, and watching with whoreish anticipation as each egg made its way to you, where you matched its thrusts to get the eggs inside of you as fast as possible, to settle into your waiting womb.

The space between each egg got shorter and shorter, until they were each coming right behind the other, and no more thrusts were needed because your entrance was perpetually kept stretched open enough for each egg to slip on by. The creature still did, at random, to keep you edging. This was the best fuck you've ever had.

Slowly, you watched your stomach expand as you quickly lost count of eggs, first a slight bulge, then a prominent one, and quickly enough you couldn't even see the tentacle nor your pussy anymore, and even further beyond. 9 months pregnant, then past due, then twins, then triplets, and even further beyond that. The tentacles shifted and rolled you onto your side as you got bigger and bigger, shifted everything inside of you and you almost came then and there.

Whole feet, then yards. You were pregnant with a whole adult person, then two.

It stopped at three, before exiting your cervix, but the expanded tip didn't shrink, and there were still eggs in it. It laid them in your hole, then, three of them- they kept you perpetually stretched out, and you knew you were going to be edging for a long while. You were excited at the idea, and felt a gush of slick in anticipation.

The third one sat right at the entrance to your hole, keeping your folds open, and the tip stayed inflated as it held them in place, before-

More tentacles, thinner than the last but still thick enough, multiple of them- you couldn't see past your engorged belly to count how many- pushed and fought their way past the eggs into you, at different speeds and stopping at different lengths inside, bulling into your womb and stopping right at it and only going halfway through or just shy of the tip, each of them fucking you at their own pace, and your screamed in a rush and blissful heat and joy and pure dopamine flooded your system, finally cumming, and the tentacles fucked you all the way through it and then past it, endlessly thrusting in and out until you were edging on a second orgasm, at the very precipice, before they each seemed to inflate in girth and then gushed themselves, fertilizing the eggs inside you.

Nothing dripped out, thanks to the one still holding everything in place, and centimeter by centimeter, all the limbs left you. The eggs in your pussy were so big that you couldn't close your legs together even if you wanted to, and your stomach was so absolutely massive that you couldn't even move. The other limbs around your waist and arms and tits stayed, keeping you in place. You were beyond frustrated, squirming and grinding your legs together to try and get you past that edge of the climax, but the tentacles stuck to your nipples and wound around your tits squeezed and sucked hard in punishment, and while it was delightful, it did nothing.

You were stuck, irritated in the best way, stuffed beyond measure, bound and naked until you laid the eggs or they hatched in you, and you were more than happy, honestly.

[fatchubbylovelies]

wish there was a toy for this + imagine

You know how theres long distance toys where a partner can be on the other side of the world but still control it? like those lovense vibes? (inspired by @bredpun's egg toy posts)

I wish there was a toy that was that for eggs and/or cum  😩. Logistically yeah I know this would be a nightmare and  the person using the toy would have to load the eggs into the ovipositor and would be limited by the number you owned but just imagine if it was possible 

----

You’re sitting at your desk, working from home, trying to focus on a spreadsheet while your mind is miles away, tethered to your partner’s office across the city. They know you’ve been useless all morning—they know you can’t even think straight when you're empty, that your brain only starts to click into gear once you're properly filled up. The toy is a  familiar weight deep inside you. Suddenly, the first pulse hits, a deep thrum that makes your breath catch as you squirm in your chair.

Thump.

The first egg materializes, a slick, heavy displacement. It’s a sudden, needy pressure that makes you moan, your hips bucking against the seat. You can almost see them leaning back in their office chair, eyes dark as they hover their thumb over the "Generate" button, finally giving you the “fullness” you've been aching for.

Thump. Thump.

Two more forced in, and you’re already squirming from the pressure. You’ve been craving this all morning—this heavy, rounded fullness. You reach down, your hand trembling as you cup your lower belly. It’s already starting to firm up, a slight, hard curve pushing against your palm.

Thump-thump-thump.

Your partner slides the delivery to "Rapid." You gasp, your head falling back as the infinite supply floods you. The toy whirs, a high-pitched purr vibrating against your cervix, summoning eggs faster than you can adjust. You’re stretching. You’re growing. Every new arrival is a blunt, pleasurable intrusion, making your internal walls expand until you’re moaning from the sheer volume.

The fabric of your leggings goes sheer as your stomach distends into a heavy, taut lumpy dome. You watch in a daze as your midsection swells, your navel shallowing out until it’s just a memory. You’re huge, your stomach shelfing over your lap, packed so full that the eggs bump against each other internally—a sensation that sends jolts through your spine.

"More," you whisper, your voice thick. "Please, just fill me up. Make me bigger."

As if they heard you, the toy’s vibration kicks. It’s the "Settle and Pack" protocol, vibrating the massive weight to push the eggs together, clearing just enough room for the next wave. Your stomach jumps and ripples, a visible proof of their remote control. You are in ecstasy 

The spreadsheet is a blurred memory. You are visibly distended, a heavy, hard dome pressing against your shirt, packed so tight you can only take shallow breaths. You’re addicted to this overwhelming fullness.

Suddenly, your phone flashes. It’s a video call. You fumble to answer, fingers clumsy. Your partner’s face fills the screen, a playful smirk on their lips as they look down at where your shirt is straining against the crowded clutch. They know exactly how much better you feel now that you’re properly occupied. On the screen, you see their thumb hover, then slide the toggle from Generate to Infuse.

You gasp as the toy shifts to a high-pitched whir. A new sensation hits—a hot, heavy rush. It’s a thick, pressurized flood of fluid, filling every tiny space between the eggs. It feels like pouring concrete into a jar of marbles. The pressure doubles instantly. Your stomach doesn't just grow; it tightens until it feels like a drum skin, your belly letting out an angry, muffled gurgle from the sheer mass.

On the video call, your partner watches your expression fracture.

“Touch yourself for me,” they command, their voice rough. “Show me how big I made you.”

You cave, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure as you rub your huge, vibrating gut for the camera.

[pink-apocalypse]

Dude I love Carnotaurus. Apex predator btw, what’s wrong with him <3

How did nature produce this

[emmasmoke8]

Robert and his hookup (Robert doesn’t know his name—doesn’t care to know it, either) go into his apartment. They barely make it past the front door and end up making out against it. Hands start traveling, clothes start being pulled. They break away to catch their breathes and—

“What the fuck—?!”

Robert looks at his hookup who is looking past him. Glancing over his shoulder, Robert finds an audience—it’s a sold-out show, it seems.

With a sigh, Robert opens the door for the guy and waves him out, half-heartedly apologizing. Once the door’s shut, he puts his back to it and crosses his arms over his chest. “How many times have I told you to stop breaking into my apartment?”

“Uh—who the fuck was that?” is one of the many voices coming from the cacophony of sound that is the Z-Team.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.” “Yeah.” “Duh!”

“Just some random guy from the bar. It’s called a hookup. I know everyone in this room knows what that is.”

And they do, but it’s weird to think Robert was about to have one. No weirder them watching him make-out with someone—more or less because they were too shocked to speak.

“Is there a reason the whole team’s here, or was it only to prevent me from having a good time?”

It was an impromptu movie night, actually.

Robert sighs but shrugs. “Well, that’s one way to spend the night. But please, next time, text me if you’re coming so I know not to bring someone up.”

Murmurs of agreement without there being too much actually agreeing.

[manga-khans-anxiety]

On: things that fucked me up today!

One of Tim's main reasonings for becoming Robin in ALPoD is "we can't let villains think they can kill Robin", which is supported by Harvey, and later KGBeast assuming Tim is Jason. This means that it's likely most people in Gotham believe the robins are Dick, Tim, Steph, and Damian. Jason's deeds as Robin have been fully erased, retroactively added to Tim's tenure as Robin.

Except for one thing! Joker repeatedly says that he killed Robin. Calls it "It's the day I won", makes a big deal out of it. (yes, Joker is the only one that has ever made an effort to maintain Jason's legacy as Robin. no wonder he was mad)

So that's it right, the people do know Jason existed, right? Well no. Because of Batman 408. In it, we learn the post crisis reason for Dick retiring as Robin: Joker shot him, and Bruce decided to forcefully retire Robin. It's stated that the people think Robin is dead. And considering two issues later Jason calls himself the second Robin, that's unlikely to have been disproved.

So, when people hear Joker bragging about killing Robin, they're likely to assume he's talking about the first one. Even Jason's death gets added to someone else's legacy.

Tim stole Jason's life as Robin. Dick stole his death.

[loonstar4477]

I’m hung up on another thought again.

Imagine a fic of moments in Bruce’s childhood and youth where he suffered and then similar moments in which he either a) did better with his kids or b) helped his kids through moments he had to handle alone.

For example (and an already wildly popular idea I believe) drawing the parallel between Bruce and Dick after just having lost their parents.

Bruce holding onto his parents dead bodies. They have gone cold an hour ago, but he can’t leave them. He mustn’t. He will never get the picture out of his eyes. Watching and hanging on to his parents in a sort of haze. Not able to look away. Not able to call for help. Just clinging to them.

Ending up falling asleep on his father’s non breathing chest and waking up to reporters taking pictures of him. Immediately having to give a statement to the police about what happened.

The parallel with Dick holding onto the broken bodies of his parents. Chaos all around him but not paying him any attention. Everyone seemingly having forgotten the child who just watched his parents die. Their screams of horror forever scorched into his mind.

And Bruce - just for a moment - is back in that alley. He decides he can’t let this go on.

So while Bruce cried on top his parents for hours Dick was grounded and comforted by a stranger with knowing eyes within minutes.

Bruce thinks he was still too late. He should have protected the boy from seeing it. He should have held his hands over the kids ears to stop him from hearing their screams. He failed that, but he can protect him from the cameras when they inevitably come.

Putting his thick coat onto the sobbing child. Shielding him from the cameras with his body.

Not even a single photo was taken of Dick that night. And the police only got a statement hours later and only with a social worker present.

—…—…—…—…—…—…—

So a fic just made up from moments like this with all of his children.

Or of situations where he was just a better parent to his children in a situation than Alfred or Lesley to him when he was in a similar one.

Like Lesley not going to any of his piano recitals and Bruce showing up to every single one of Jason’s theater performances and even some practices.

Or Alfred scolding and punishing Bruce for not eating a particular type of food, for example beans, by not making any food without beans for a month straight vs Bruce having a giant excel spreadsheet for all of his children’s dietary preferences and updating it regularly

Maybe training his kids vs his training during his travels from his mentors.

Like him getting a beating for making a mistake during training vs him calmly explaining any of his kids their mistakes and offering insight in how not to make the same mistake again(or a similar one)

Just intentionally or unintentionally Bruce giving his children a better childhood/youth than he had.

And maybe ending on a chapter of the kids finding all of this out. Or maybe not ever finding out until Bruce is in the time stream and sorting through his old diaries and stuff.

[nappingrem]

two year old art jumpscare

in stars and time - insertdisc5