iiinova — where your digital self keeps evolving

Reposted by Non Uberis

Still a couple more weeks till I do get a full paycheck from my new FT job. I hate asking for help, but I could use a couple extra bucks after paying rent. xux I'm already overloaded with work, and dun wanna open more comms till next week. ko-fi.com/lunarlillium

static.klipy.com

Mutadon Triceratops

ALT: Mutadon Triceratops

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 17h

I've gradually culled the number of discord servers where I advertise my streams over the years because it became abundantly apparent that people were never coming from them I'm getting to a tipping point where it feels like there isn't any reason to do that anywhere other than my own server

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Are you interested in: Rallying cry? Intense gaming? Garden lifts? And abrasive bedding? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

Aster swings her hammer, and another goblin falls, half its body bludgeoned into a red smear. Immediately, another one of the snarling imps moves forward to fill the fight, and she scarcely has the opportunity to pull her weapon back, goring her new opponent with the bill on the hammer’s other side. A third approaches, bleating crude curses at her, and for this one she has to swing out with her chest to knock it back before she’s able to land a proper blow.

There are dozens of the creatures crawling across the cavern floor and they don’t stop coming. They are scrawny things, yet still just barely taller than her, and that extra reach poses a problem. She feels nicks upon her snowy skin, cuts from daggers and curved swords and even claws, hits that found their mark despite her best efforts. The rabbit knows that she can’t possibly hope to overcome this tide, but she also thinks that if she turns for an instant to run then the goblins will fall upon her, doubting her ability to hobble away faster than they can scurry.

“If I am to die,” she declares boisterously, “then let it be in the heat of battle!” She makes another wild swing with her hammer that connects with one goblin, smashes it into another, and then sends the combined scaly mass toppling over another. Two more proceed to make a leap for her, blades outstretched. Maybe they won’t succeed in toppling her, but they will wound her enough that she won’t be able to fight back.

Then something swings over her head, connecting with the goblins and sending them hurtling away over the crowd. The earth shakes as a figure moves into the periphery of her field of vision, a huge, bulbous shape, a light peach wall. “Let us do battle, then!” declares a booming voice from beside and above that rings out like the call of trumpets.

A noxious haze seeps out of the apartment as Alice walks into it, prompting her nostrils to rankle. “Margaret?” she calls out as she walks inside, loath though she is to open her mouth and let the grody air into her lungs. It’s almost like a physical presence, wading through oil, overpowering the fresh aroma of the food inside the stack of cardboard boxes she’s carrying. “I brought your order. Is everything alright?”

A sound emanates from further inside the dimly lit suite. A voice that replies in languid, slurring syllables that sound almost akin to “Yeah, everything’s great” interrupted by a cacophonous expulsion in the middle.

Unfortunately, and unsurprisingly, the smell gets worse as Alice walks deeper in, danker and more colorful. The Garchomp can discern the pungent smells of copious snacks, cheeses and spices and sugars, but the bouquet doesn’t come together as delectably as one might expect. It is an overpowering aroma, enough to make one smell the calories.

She comes into the studio, as Margaret calls it, which is where the smell is at its strongest. She has to hold her arm over her muzzle as she approaches the desk where the sprawling Skarmory sits. Not that the desk is visible at this point, what with the mountainous wall of sweat-stained silver buttocks that stands in the way, only a faint glow extending from the other side. “One delivery, fresh from the oven,” she announces, muffled, refraining from commenting that she thinks the food might sour instantly upon exposure to the dank atmosphere.

Margaret makes an inarticulate moan, taking several attempts to form the necessary words. “Bring ‘em over here,” she says, “just…set ‘em down.”

A smile stretches across Celestia’s muzzle and creases into her soft cheeks as she remarks, “Thank you, Blueblood, how good of you to help with redecorating this garden.”

Blueblood’s visage falters for an instant, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his eyes, his own smile flattening before he recovers and replies, “Yes, of course. I would do anything for you, Aunty Celestia.” He bows his head, even though the sardonic emphasis on “Aunty” doesn’t suggest much respect.

“These decorations have been here for an awfully long time,” she continues as she looks around the garden, her mane and tail billowing around her and twisting like plumes of smoke as she turns. “That bench,” she says, nodding to the crumpled wooden frame, and chuckles, “that was a gift from a Germaneigh dignitary over a century ago. Who needs to see that anymore?”

A few of the stallions laugh along nervously.

“Yes, exactly what I was thinking,” Blueblood says without missing a beat, “out with the old and in with the new, that’s what we need around here.” Their eyes meet again and she sees the pride and arrogance which seethes within him.

“And this statue—” Celestia walks over to a statue which sits in the center of the garden. It’s a life-size depiction of herself, smiling plainly and holding a bird in her outstretched palm. It’s made of solid marble and mounted upon a huge stone plinth. “It’s quite good, yes,” she says, “but it was made seven hundred years ago. It’s a little outdated, don’t you think?” She stands next to the statue and mimics its pose, but the effect isn’t quite the same on a figure that’s several hundred pounds heavier. Her arm can scarcely reach beyond the girth of her chest, or her gut, or especially her hips and thighs.

“It’s okay, Alice,” Margaret says chipperly as she approaches, and she reaches out to pat her on the shoulder. This interaction is one that poses little physical difficulty for them, since Alice’s greatest bulk is in her front while Margaret’s is in the rear. “You can stay here while we wait for the rain to stop!”

“Yeah, I know,” she says and sighs.

“Ooh, it’s been so long since we had a sleepover together!” the Skarmory exclaims while leaning into her side, swaying with her pelvis so that they both swing side to side. “We’re gonna have so much fun! We can watch movies and play games and talk about stuff and kiss—”

“Margaret,” Alice interrupts firmly, glancing back her way with a stern gaze, “I’ve been running around all over the city today, and now I can’t even go home. I’d really rather just have some peace and quiet, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Margaret replies, beak still set in a smile as she pats her shoulder. “You know what, in that case, you should have my bed!”

Alice’s eyebrows rise up. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, it’s the right thing to do!” Margaret beams at her before she steps away. “I’ll just sleep on the couch tonight, I was probably gonna watch TV anyway. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the volume down low for you!”

The Garchomp watches her, surprised, and her expression breaks into a smile. “Thanks, Margaret, I appreciate it.”

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 29/09/2026

Control Resonant doing the No More Heroes talking through the controller thing yes please

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Reposted by Non Uberis

Hatter III 🔞 @hatterthethird.bsky.social · 28/09/2026

Commissions Are Open! Inquire via the below form, communication done through discord!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 27/09/2026

Lost a Narin part from Void Armageddon due to host migration, now I'm never going to get one again

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Are you interested in: Deep voices? Couch occupation? Ominous leaves? And hambs of the sea? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

Promethea looks out across the ocean and blurts out, “What?”

“What is it, kitty cat?” Hera asks while she works on laying out their supplies beneath an umbrella that looks more like a circus tent, big enough to be cover several extended families at once and exactly one giant Mewtwo.

Promethea glances back at her with wariness wavering in her eyes. “Did you not hear that?” she asks incredulously, brows furrowed.

The Mew floats out from beneath the umbrella and looks this way and that, her ears swiveling. The beach is secluded and quiet, a stretch of shore about as long as a city block which has been made private for their use. No one is present aside from themselves, and there’s no noise other than the steady crashing of the surf. “I don’t hear anything, Promethea,” she finally says.

“I don’t mean like that,” she replies with a curt edge in her tone as she gestures with one bulbous finger tip to her ear, and then taps on her head, “I mean like this.”

Hera frowns, ears folding down, but after a few more seconds of quiet concentration with her eyes closed she shakes her head. “Sorry, still nothing. Your telepathy is much stronger than mine, you know, you’re probably picking up something beyond my range.”

Promethea glares back at her and then at the water again, fierce determination etched across her visage.

Luna starts to turn around so she can park herself on the couch, but at the last moment she catches sight of something upon the cushions, nestled right in the center. A small, compact shape, pitch dark like shadow save for the glowing golden rings which lend it some sense of anatomy, highlighting head, ears, limbs, and tail. It stares up at her with wide red eyes. “Oh,” the alicorn remarks, and she calls out, “Euphoria, I did not know that you had a…cat?” The creature seems approximately feline, even though the long, pointed ears and tail seem more evocative of a fox.

“Oh, you mean lil’ Nyamby?” Euphoria replies from the kitchen, or whatever is in the next room over, “Yeah, he’s always been here!”

“Always?” she mutters skeptically to herself, brows furrowed, before she says, “Well, he is in my seat.”

“Aw, he’s just a little sweetie, don’t worry about him,” the unicorn says with a laugh, “just ask him to move and he’ll do it.”

“Okay…” Luna says, sighing and shaking her head before she turns her focus upon the cat again. She stares straight into his crimson eyes and commands with firm authority, “Alright, little one, it is time to get up.” She waves her hands in an emphatic shooing gesture.

Nyamby doesn’t get up. In fact, he distinctly appears to huddle into a tighter ball, digging his claws into the cushion, all while staring unflinchingly.

As you slurp the last dregs of your tea, Madame Mimzy abruptly declares, “Let me read your tea leaves, darling.” She smiles from beneath the oversized, starchy novelty turban she wears, yet she speaks with a severity that suggests it’s a command rather than an offer.

You hesitate for a moment, but you came here to have your fortune told, so you might as well indulge her after letting her trace her clammy fingers over your palm for ten minutes. You hand the cup and saucer across the table, into the cloud of dank perfume which surrounds Madame Mimzy. The speckled china rattles slightly as she holds it in her shaking hands. “Ah, now let’s see what the leaves have to say,” she says in her usual mystical air, giving the cup a few swirls before she peers into it with her pale, rheumy eyes.

You expect this to be another few minutes of hemming and hawing over infinitesimal details. Imagine your surprise when, after only a couple seconds, she makes a loud gasp and exclaims, “The hand!”

Startled, flinching in your seat, you blurt back, “Excuse me?”

“The hand of fate!” she says, and it is difficult to discern whether she is excited or fearful. She holds up one hand and her fingers crack and pop as they curl into grasping claws. “It is an omen of great power and change! It is the shaper of destinies!”

Your brow furrows skeptically even as you lean over the table to come closer to her. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”

Alice laughs again and watches as Non steps away from her, allowing himself to be fully visible beyond the horizon of breast meat which extends before her. He twirls in place momentarily, just to show off his curvaceous bimbo frame, the absurd girth of breasts and hips and groin fully apparent even through the concealing clothing he wears, to say nothing of his lips, and the elegant features of his Milotic anatomy, his long antennae and fins and tail. Then he holds out his arms and clenches his fingers and arcane energy manifests around his hands, a violet aura which spreads across his body, seeping into his skin. He takes several increasingly deep breaths, with each one distending slightly further outward, before one final long, sharp intake of air.

He starts to grow first, stretching outward in all directions, reaching steadily toward the ceiling (which recedes to make room, much like his clothing stretching to still fit him). The texture of his exposed skin changes, the pearly scales smoothing down yet finer until they turn into sleek rubbery flesh. The shape of his head morphs with a series of cracks and pops, the horn curling backward into a crest, flexible fins and antennae receding and replaced with pointed mask-like fins around the eyes. His snout bulges into a thick beak, though the purple mounds around the edges of his mouth obscure the shape all the same. The definition of his body grows gradually thicker, his torso broader, his tail stiffening somewhat as the fin shrinks, replaced with spikes that sprout from the tip, and his legs expand into broad pillars with bulbous toes to support his bulk. But he holds out his arms as they unfurl more and more and more, flaring into broad appendages like wings, with huge, flat palms and blocky fingers.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 25/09/2026

Some old Decaverse Rarity art but bigger. There isn't really a "maximum" on shmallow size. Comes in lipless and gockless alts. Original art by @pinkpalooka.hyper.wang #nonuberart #furry #nsfw #clop #hyper #fatfur

An anthro female intersex version of the pony Rarity as a big fat blob with huge breasts and belly and butt and also cock and balls smothered beneath her bulk and big lips covering most of her face, standing in a vague approximation of the Carousel Boutique.

An anthro female version of the pony Rarity as a big fat blob with huge breasts and belly and butt, standing in a vague approximation of the Carousel Boutique.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 24/09/2026

Some old Decaverse Rarity art. Minimum shmallow size. Original art by @pinkpalooka.hyper.wang #nonuberart #furry #nsfw #clop #hyper

An anthro female intersex version of the pony Rarity who has a juicy figure with large breasts and thick thighs and a large cock and balls, wearing a tube top and ill-fitting underwear.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

Discord is restricted on my phone now so I guess no more checking while I'm at work until that gets worked out, which it doesn't seem to want me to since the option in the settings to confirm age isn't even there

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 23/09/2026

Some old art to show the gorgon pony concept from Compulsion. Maybe Appy can go on to be a standalone character. Original art by @spicycharley.bsky.social #nonuberart #furry #nsfw

A female anthro gorgon pony (gorgony) named Apotropaea, she wears rags around her waist and nothing for her torso but she conveniently has barbie doll anatomy, she holds one of her hairsnakes away from the others because he's naughty.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 22/09/2026

When you use magic spheres sometimes you need to ponder them. Perhaps it is possible, however, to ponder too much. Original art by @energyunit.tacobell.social #nonuberart #furry #nsfw #fatfur #hyper #inflation

A female anthro Milotic/Lucario hybrid named Nephthys who has a big fat bottom-heavy figure and wears Egyptian-styled long robes and veils sitting in a meditative pose and also her head is inflating with puffy cheeks and a big lower lip.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Nepththys has the most powerful magic of all. Butt. I mean spheres. Original art by @viddibus.bsky.social #nonuberart #furry #nsfw #fatfur #hyper

A female anthro Milotic/Lucario hybrid named Nephthys who has a big fat bottom-heavy figure and wears Egyptian-styled long robes and veils and stands holding up her arms with a bright ball of blue light floating over each hand.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Are you interested in: Custodial intervention? Cognizance meltdown? Unexpected roommate? And blob ownership? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

Alice takes a step forward and then stops immediately. She takes a long sniff of the spicy cinnamon air around her as she looks about. The opulent lobby is conspicuously vacant, with no one visible sitting in the waiting chairs or behind the very tall reception desk. “BeauTech,” she says, reading off the giant golden letters which are mounted on the far wall, and her brow furrows. The name sounds bizarrely unfamiliar, one that she doesn’t recall being attributed to any of the tall office buildings in Goldenrod.

That’s not as odd as the fact that she doesn’t remember coming inside to begin with, a blank in her memory where she should have passed through a doorway. She turns around, looking to where she’d expect the front entrance to be, but there’s no such thing. Where there should be doors, there are only flat panels lacking in definition, their texture blurry and faded. “Okay, fine,” she grunts to herself with a snort, “I’ll just have to smash my way out.”

The Garchomp takes a step toward the fake doors and the ground suddenly tilts beneath her, going from flat to a ten degree incline. This alone is enough for her breasts to drag on the tiled floor before she stumbles to her knees, falling into the cushy wall of bosom which projects from her. The ground continues to lurch, the wall suddenly appearing so much farther away from her. There’s a loud scraping noise behind her, and she turns back to see the reception desk sliding backward. It should be headed toward the far wall where the company name had been written, but that wall is gone now, and in its place is a gaping aperture, opening up on a fiery orange abyss. The desk tumbles into the void and vanishes, accompanied by a distance crunching sound, the gnashing of giant teeth, as a whooshing wind rises up to buffet at her.

She holds them all in her grasp. They are minuscule. She could hold all of them in one palm if she chose to, but then they would all melt together into an unidentifiable lump, and it’s too soon for that. There is still so much fun to be had with them. It’s a good thing, then, that she has many appendages as she needs.

The purple cat is already like putty to her. She rolls him into a thin tube and then ties him into an intricate knot. He twitches futilely.

The electric mice affix to each other. She squeezes them together and they merge, colors running, moaning as they clutch at themselves to keep them from sliding apart.

The fluffy dog is so uneven. She fills her breasts. Then her butt. Then her head. Then her tail. Oh, but she lost the plot somewhere and started filling them up more and more. Just going to have to up the ante further.

The nameless balloon squeaks wordlessly. She squeezes their swollen body until every other part of their body inflates and pops off and forms new extremities which inflate and separate and disperse and inflate and separate and disperse.

The dual giraffe moans, his brain churning. She grips his rump tightly and his outer mouth distends and his inner self spills out in a gooey morass, leaving a limp skin that she hangs to dry while smearing him across the walls.

And the rabbit. Her precious rabbit. He was too slow again and now he’s all hers. He remains stalwart as she handles him, unzips him, places fizzling fire and gummy flesh into him. He cries and bubbles pour from his mouth.

There’s something on the ceiling: a huge, flat shape which adheres to the plaster, white on white nearly blending together.

An incoherent splutter rises from her throat, stifled by her clenched jaw. She fumbles, trying to throw herself away, but with her limbs locking up she only succeeds in spilling onto the floor. She keeps herself pushed down as much as she can, rump on the ground, dorsal fin bent behind her, while she crawls away and keeps her eyes on the thing on the ceiling. It’s like an oval, oblong and slightly convex, appearing to be longer than the Gabite is tall, with two prongs that project from it on one end and two long antennae sprouting from the other side which curl around it.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” she mutters to herself in a squealing whine, nearly hyperventilating, while her trembling hands grope at her phone. She opens the Pokédex app which is preloaded on all smart devices nowadays and fights to keep herself steady as she points the lens at the white shape. It produces a blaring beep and a negative result. “What do you mean, no matches?!” she exclaims in an angry hiss, “Matching things is supposed to be the thing you’re good for!” And in an impotent display of rage, she flings the plastic rectangle into the air. It sails upward and knocks against the ceiling shape.

Before it can fall to the floor, an appendage snaps out from the figure’s hidden underside and grabs the phone before pulling it out of sight. It scuttles across the ceiling with frightening speed, shuffling and rustling, until it’s above Claire, who makes a terrified squeal. Then its shape bulges and distends, buckling from within, like a cocoon flexing as its occupants awakens, and with a sucking and popping it pulls free from the surface, tilting backward and then falling to land with a tremendous crash upon the floor.

“Hmm…” Joan inhales a deep breath of the salty ocean air as she looks from the top of the dune, down across the shore which extends before her. “Do you remember the last time we came here together, hon?” she asks Victor.

Amid wheezing huffs and grunts, the Nidoqueen responds with a hoarse and nonverbal groan as he comes to settle beside her, jiggling like a mold of gelatin for several seconds after he stops moving. The dune shifts beneath him, having pushed a cascade of sand down the slope in the process of his climb, and he spills over either side of the hill. He is a mountain of blue and tan scales beside her, the definition of his anatomy buried beneath vast swathes of flesh, with a faint sheen of sunscreen applied to his skin. There are no clothes to cover him, none that were big enough to be found on short notice, but at least his gut obscures his groin more than adequately.

“No, I don’t either,” the Garchomp replies with a chuckle, “well, let’s make sure to make a good impression, hmm?”

Victor groans again as Joan takes his hand and leads him forward. It isn’t much of an appendage, swaddled in folds of flab that keep it sticking straight out to the side. She brushes up against the side of his leg, a titanic trunk that barely has a discernible foot, as she comes close enough to reach for his doughy mitt. At least it’s easier for him to go downhill than up, making one awkward shuffling step after another in the most awkward and cumbersome gait imaginable. He oozes steadily across the sand, down the hill and over the beach, an amorphous blue blob. His face is scarcely even visible, obscured by the caldera of folds around his head, cheeks and neck and shoulders and chest.

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Reposted by Non Uberis

Rae @41dn.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

ko-fi.com/E1E3E6EX Well, I had a little RTL redesign going, then I killed her off for the bit. Well, that's how it goes sometimes, I'll probably draw her again at some point. I think we're safely at the immobility threshold; do you think we'll reach the goal by the end of the month?

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 21/09/2026

Wrapping the first draft on a big project and trying not to focus on the fact that this took me six months to complete

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 20/09/2026

The Visitor is upon us. Are you prepared for...the ULTIMATE SMOOCH? Art by @energyunit.tacobell.social #nonubercomms #furry #nsfw #hyper

The Visitor from Look Outside except it's a giant pair of screen-filling lips with a small Cat!Sam near the center of the screen.

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Reposted by Non Uberis

the dragon! @rykela.bsky.social · 20/09/2026

I've got some new adoptables to sell. These ones are drgns! They're $65 each, please go check 'em out. www.furaffinity.net/view/66422663/ www.furaffinity.net/view/66422694/

Two dragon adoptables. One is orange and vaguely gecko-like, wearing a shirt with his favorite anime character on it. The other is a fluffy, lanky yellow gal with no outstanding details that hint at personality but honestly I think she's cute and jiggly enough to make up for it.

A dark grey and blue dragoness who is probably an office manager with a stern outlook. She is far too big for her skirt but the ball bra helps. The other is a kindly brick-red teacher or dad sort with a big butt and muscles. Honestly I think the singlet + sweatervest combo goes hard. He's got lots of scars that hint at a rough and tumble past...

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

I really, really want to know what the story behind Cat Sam in Look Outside was going to be

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Reposted by Non Uberis

Rei Luclaw @reimoon.bsky.social · 19/09/2026

Taking Another Round of Commissions for September! 5 Slots Available Not First Come, First Serve! You can fill out an Application here in this Form: forms.gle/CeLyCPvnJAwR... It's my B-day Month so Please consider helping a wuff out! #MoonwuffArtwork

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 17/09/2026

Are you interested in: Dinner transformation? Mascot booty? Mousequerade? And himbo pinning? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

Wanda absently prods at her food while the dinner conversation flows back and forth over her head.

“The wedding is next month and we haven’t even picked out the decorations yet!”

“The water in the bay has gotten so much cleaner, we actually saw dolphins swimming there the other day.”

“I’m getting really worried about the spread of that id stuff, there are whole states contaminated with it now.”

“The season is off to a real lousy start, we’re already so far behind.”

“That new deli is shutting down, I think they deserve it after that moldy turkey they sold to us.”

She listens and lets the words pass through her, only absorbing whatever seems like it might be relevant. When someone speaks, she looks in their direction, and intermittently she glances around the table at the rest of the small assembly. It doesn’t seem as if anyone ever stops to look in her direction—maybe her grandmother, but she can’t see much of anything anyway. No one stops to ask her if she has any opinion on anything.

She breathes a hollow sigh.

(I might as well not be here.)

(You don’t have to be.)

Her fork falls to her plate with a clatter.

(No not here this isn’t going to help!)

(Why not enjoy yourself as much as possible?)

The park is quiet and still. No one is playing. There aren’t even any sounds from inside the clubhouse or treehouse. There are no deliveries being made. There are no songs to sing.

There is a bright flash of light and a large orange unicorn appears, and he announces in an enthusiastic dopey voice, “Hi there, kids, it’s Buddy!”

He stands completely still for several seconds, beady eyes staring blankly at the open space, arms raised over his head, before he looks around himself. “Huh, that’s funny,” he remarks, scratching his chin, making pointedly exaggerated motions so that his blonde mane rustles and his hips swing from side to side. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone here! I wonder where they could be!” He makes a comically loud gasp with his stiffly opening jaw-flap and claps a fist into his palm. “That’s it! They must be playing hide and seek! Well, in that case, I’d better go and find them!”

Whimsical woodwinds play while Buddy giggles and frolics about the yard, waddling this way and that from one place of interest to another.

“Are you behind heeere?” he calls out as he circles around the tree trunk, bending over so that his horned head pokes past one side and his rear sticks out behind him.

“Are you in heeere?” he says with a shake of his limp tail as he looks in the mailbox, which makes gagged cries of protest at him.
“Or maybe you’re in heeere!” He gets down on his hands and knees so he can peer into the doghouse that has never been occupied, with his wide orange rump stuck up in the air.

Then, gradually, the unicorn goes still and the music stops. He twists around and looks back, his beady eyes staring vacantly. “Oh, I get it,” he says with much less enthusiasm in his tone, “that’s what this is really about, huh?”

“We can use this room,” says the mouse wearing the lion mask as he opens the door. He flicks a switch that turns on a soft rosy light, illuminating a luxurious bedroom with a large bed covered with silky red sheets in the center.

“Golly, now this is somethin’ else!” exclaims the mouse wearing the tiger mask as she peers in through the opening. “Are you sure we can just take this all for ourselves?” She starts to duck into the doorway, but it’s a tight fit for her stature and breadth.

“Here, my dear, let me help you with that,” the lion-mouse says with a chuckle before he places himself against the tiger-mouse’s rump. Through the layers of billowing fabric which make up her skirt, he can feel the bulbous bulk concealed beneath, the same mass which bumped into him in the ballroom just a few minutes ago. A task like this should be beneath him, but he doesn’t mind too much when it means being in proximity to such a delightful derriere, and it all but fell into his lap. That part is coming next, with any luck. “I am an acquaintance of the host, as it happens,” he explains in between grunts as the two of them struggle to squeeze through, “he uses this room to entertain certain…special guests.”

“Ooh, I see!” the tiger-mouse replies, giggling back, right before she pops through the doorway and stumbles into the room. “I hope he doesn’t mind us testing the bed springs here tonight!” she remarks, and he thinks he sees a twinkle through the eye hole of her striped mask. The statement elicits a pang in his loins.

“H-hey,” Jody calls from the office doorway, grunting gruffly in discomfort, “little help here?”

Dorothy looks up and sees a large blue-clad bulk stuffed into the opening. “Well, well, what mess did rabbit get self into this time?” she mutters as she hauls herself up from the couch and trudges over to him. “Did not report incident like supposed to.”

“I don’t know, some kind of leak in a lab, couldn’t keep from getting exposed before I went in to fix it,” he says with a low groan, “I didn’t think it was a big deal, I was still able to work just fine.”

“Rabbit still must follow protocol whenever…” She stops abruptly as she comes to the doorway, to see the shape which Jody has been reconfigured into. She’s accustomed to looking downward to face the Lopunny who’s so much shorter than her, but this viewing angle points her eyes directly toward a swollen mass filling his coveralls, a huge, rotund gut with a bulbous chest resting on top. She has to look higher now to see his face, which is nearly as high as the door’s lintel, cast faintly in shadow. His broad belly and shoulders catch in the doorway, too thick to pass through.

“Dorothy?”

She flinches and blinks. “What?”

Jody stares skeptically at her. “Are you okay?”

The Kangaskhan feels her hands trembling and clenches her fingers tightly. “Yes, I am…fine,” she says quietly, forcing out the words mechanically. “Let’s get you…out of there…can you get hand free?”

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

stg Vivzie if you're setting up Vassago as a wedge between Blitz and Stolas

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

what does The Juimce taste like

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

my greatest wish is to create writing that causes people to go "ough" with the most visceral intensity

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 16/09/2026

twitch has gotten to be basically unusable while having a vpn active

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 15/09/2026

Personal headcanon: Buddy is the culmination of attempts to scientifically harness the Dreamscape that went horribly awry

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

so after nearly two years of toot fart they finally put out a new trailer for that Cat in the Hat movie that makes it look almost not garbage strong suspicion that this movie had some development hell behind the scenes

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Doggydog Boy Dog @kapricore.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

come hither all ye freaks heads up; starting on the 23rd I will be staying with a friend for three weeks. I'm taking this as an opportunity to see how working away from home feels. work will most certainly slow down, so keep that in mind when putting a form in! forms.gle/6fKf5ZemzYazCXiJ9

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Rae @41dn.bsky.social · 14/09/2026

ko-fi.com/E1E3E6EX Okay we're getting somewhere. I'm not used to trying to correctly depict weight in LBs yet, it's fun Weight doubled! Cutoff Saturday!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

Are you interested in: Boob care? Dream abyss? Oasis relaxation? And apple juicing? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

The rush and pitter-patter of running water can’t entirely drown the muttering curses of the creature inside the shower stall.
“Gallus?”

The gryphon squawks shrilly. He instinctively tries to cover himself, stretching his arms as far as they can reach, at little to no avail. “G-g-go away!” he cries, pressing his face into his chest to hide as if he were an ostrich.

But Silverstream continues to stand in the doorway. The steamed-up glass walls of the stall partially obscure the body inside, but there’s still a lot of gryphon visible. A lot of sandy plumage. A lot of boob. The stacks of heavy globes mash against the glass and rise nearly high enough to peek over the top of the stall. The gryphon attached to them is hardly an afterthought.

“Are you okay?” she asks cautiously, endeavoring to keep herself reined in for the moment. She doesn’t think that excitement is what Gallus needs. “You’ve been in here for a while.”

“Well sorry, it takes a while to wash eight titanic tits,” he growls back, “if you wanna use the bathroom you’re just gonna have to wait another hour!”

The hippogriff takes a few deep breaths before she asks, “Would you like some help?”

“Wh-what?” he stammers back and he turns to face her. Through the foggy glass, his water-matted face looks like a smear of blue. “That’s…I don’t think that’s what Principal Starlight would want.” He grimaces and growls. “It’s supposed to be my punishment, remember?”

“I wonder what the first idea was,” Euphoria thinks aloud.

They ponder this to themselves for several seconds before they turn to look expectantly at Pneuma, who sneers back. “YOU EXPECT US TO KNOW EVERYTHING?”

“I thought you were everything, everywhere, all at once, or whatever,” they say and then chuckle to themselves.

Pneuma scoffs. “WE ARE PRESENT IN ALL THAT THINKS, BUT THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT WE ARE CONSCIOUS OF IT ALL SIMULTANEOUSLY. YOU SPEAK OF PRIMORDIAL INKLINGS WHICH HAVE BEEN BURIED IN THE DREAMSCAPE FOR BILLIONS OF YEARS, HIDDEN BENEATH COUNTLESS STRATA.”

“Oh,” Euphoria replies plainly, “okay.”

They continue to stare at each other for a while longer.

Groaning and rolling their eyes, Pneuma stands and then dives—into the internal depths of their awareness, and through the cottage floor. Through the foundation. Through the earth, Through the layers of the Dreamscape. It is figurative as much as literal, the actions of a creature of pure thought performed simply as a physical representation of internal motions.

Zarafa slides into the pool balls-first, dragging along the bank and into the cool water, and she sighs contentedly at the soothing liquid caress. The buoying embrace is enough to lift her genitalia so that they are not so heavily weighted down, bobbing faintly in the clear water, with her cock rising to the top, a red log floating on the surface. She comes to rest with the water level settling above her waist, lapping at the underside of her bosom. This is a comfortable position for one to be in, though on account of her height the pool has to be quite deep, the oasis more of a small lake. It would be more difficult for a smaller creature to contend with.

“This is the life,” Euphoria murmurs dreamily, their eyes closed as they lie down upon their enormous phallus. The towering shaft and testicles, just as large as Zarafa’s, act as a pool noodle the size of a boat. “I don’t find places to relax outside like this nearly as much as I ought to.”

“And do you always lounge upon your girth while you are ‘relaxing’ in this manner?” Zarafa asks with a smirk.

“Sometimes,” the unicorn replies. A golden aura surrounds them and turns them about so they can better face the giant zebraffe, much like the magic which they used to levitate themselves into the pool. “I’m sure I’ve been this size at some point before. Don’t remember what the circumstances might have been.”

“I suppose you must have just been so excited to be huge,” she remarks while she wades closer, bringing their cocks parallel to each other. “And just what do you intend to do with your body when you have transformed like that?”

“Alright, just turn a liiiil’ bit to the left!” Apple Bloom calls out.

Big McIntosh makes a guttural grunt as he shuffles in place, legs shimmying awkwardly. He can’t see where he’s going, let alone the smaller pony who’s trying to direct him.

Then Applejack nudges the small of his back, the taut, curved surface. “C’mon, Mac, let’s get hustlin’!” she commands impatiently. “Any more n’ we’re gonna have to roll you!”

He grumbles, the sound gurgling in his throat. He would fix a withering glare at her, but he wouldn’t be able to see her much more easily either. A caldera of amber-tinged flesh surrounds his face, not only blocking his field of view but preventing him from moving his neck. He just has to keep up with his precarious waddling, swaying dramatically and loudly sloshing from side to side with each hoofstep, blindly advancing and hoping that his trajectory isn’t going off-course.

The stallion knows he should be thankful that he can even walk at all right now. Most juice-afflicted ponies aren’t so lucky when they at their stage of optimal ripeness. Despite his burly arms being sunken into his central mass, rendered largely useless, the lower, less-inflated regions of his body allow his legs to just barely peek out as stiff nubs. It would be nice, however, if his tender testicles weren’t grinding across the barn floor.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 13/09/2026

I have memories of being fond of Foghorn Leghorn as a kid for reasons I don't really remember other than some vague feeling of kinship due to having family from Kentucky After Coyote vs Acme I don't think I'll ever be able to view him as anything other than a corrupt executive

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Dotty the Big Beef Man (18+ONLY) @dotintheparadox.bsky.social · 12/09/2026

You know those old stories of where nightmares come from a weird demonic freak sitting on your chest, feeding off your fear, or a terrifying black horse with a spectral burning mane delivers it? Well, I designed a beefy bottom-heavy lass who can do both of those! She's 105usd, DM if interested!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

New story uploaded. Wagga needs to unload her poison buildup periodically. Sometimes she requires assistance for this task. www.furaffinity.net/view/66334637/ #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw #hyper #bimbo #inflation #gas

furaffinity.net

Emptying the Tanks by NonUberis -- Fur Affinity [dot] net

Fur Affinity | For all things fluff, scaled, and feathered!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

Meetings with Wagga can be somewhat demanding. But the bug boob proximity is worth it, right? Art by @energyunit.tacobell.social #nonubercomms #furry #nsfw #hyper #bimbo

An anthro female Scolipede named Wagga, she has an atypical purple and green color with an additional antenna that resembles a ponytail, she's showing off her four huge boobs which are lactating conspicuous purple fluid, posed with two arms on the uppermost pair of breasts and the other arms behind her head, with dialogue saying "They're full. You gonna drain 'em?" but you can imagine that she's speaking in a more muffled manner to reflect her giant bimbo lips.

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the dragon! @rykela.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

If I were to make another set of adoptables, what should I theme them around? - Hellaverse again? - Pokémon? - Birds? - Dragons? What do you guys think? Please, I'm actually looking for responses here. >w<

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 11/09/2026

ah yes I needed feelings of inadequacy about my creative output and market viability today

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 10/09/2026

Going through my uploads from the past year or so, it's still staggering how little traction this one got Is mushroom really that much of a turn-off?

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Dotty the Big Beef Man (18+ONLY) @dotintheparadox.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

Designed a punky tropical frog with a passion for self-experimentation, I wonder how far she can push that chest of hers. . . She's 115usd, DM if interested!

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

it would be neat to get involved with collaborative writing/art projects again unfortunately I'm wary because many of the things I see end up featuring people I wouldn't want to be associated with

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

Gossamer Gleam isn't so gloomy that she never goes out in the summer sun. The world needs to see those thighs. Original art by @evildufel.bsky.social #nonuberart #furry #nsfw #clop #fatfur #hyper

An anthro unicorn pony OC named Gossamer Gleam, who in this picture is a big fat with a particularly bottom-heavy figure, wearing a sun hat and shirt and sarong and holding a basket, standing on a beach with the surf near her hooves.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 09/09/2026

Are you interested in: Buxom payback? Bimbo filter? Moo filter? And diet recipes? These topics and more explored in drabbles available through my Patreon. www.patreon.com/user?u=273837 #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

“I see you’re still wearing the same stuffy old clothes,” Laura says, and she not-so-subtly wipes her hand on her shorts, as if merely touching Wanda’s sweater could have infected her with something—the dreaded unfashionableitis. She shakes her head, clicking her tongue, while her eyes remain squarely focused on the other woman’s chest. “You know, honestly, I was really hoping, for your sake, that you were just a late bloomer. What’ve you got under there? Did you make it up to B-cup?”

Wanda says nothing. She still remembers the time when Laura stole her bra from her in the locker room. She never saw her do it—she probably put someone else up to it—and thus was unable to get action taken against her, but she knew it was her.

Laura chuckles in a knowing way, smirking. “It’s okay. Who knows, maybe there’s still time for another growth spurt? Well, don’t worry about the drink, I know you always couldn’t help being a klutz.” Then she starts to turn away, twiddling her fingers as she waves, “Nice catching up with you, Wanda, maybe we can hang out again for old time’s sake.”

Wanda watches her leave, her strutting, swaying gait. She fights to keep herself from tearing up, sniffling, crying, instead gritting her teeth.

“Not this time,” she mutters, “you want a growth spurt?”

She takes in a deep breath.

FWOOMP

Unsurprisingly, Trixie expects that all attention will immediately divert to her upon entering a room. When she walks into Starlight’s study, she expects the mare to leap to her hooves and cry ecstatically as she runs over to embrace her and tell her how amazing she is. Unrealistic, perhaps, but she prefers to set her standards high. Surely, at least, Starlight will be enthused to see her. So the magician steps through the doorway with a flourish of her cape and an enthusiastic declaration of “Have no fear, the great and powerful Trixie is here!”

And Starlight turns to her and gasps and exclaims, “Trix, like, oh-em-cee!”

Trixie falters.

The pony who comes trotting across the room certainly resembles Starlight Glimmer but also very distinctly…isn’t. She has the same pink coat and curling purple mane, certainly, but that’s about where the similarities end. This Starlight is wearing a gaudy and skimpy ensemble of clothing that Trixie would never imagine being associated with her, a flimsy top wrapped around her chest and a meager pair of shorts, the thin straps of a thong visible around her hips. And this flimsy garb all the more emphasizes the absurd curvaceousness of her figure, breasts and buttocks bigger than pumpkins, their combined breadth nearly approaching her height. The crotch of her shorts is drawn tight over the exaggeratedly bulbous mound between her legs, the shape of labia and clitoris bulging through the denim. There is a startling stillness in her eyes despite the way they twinkle merrily, as much as they can be seen past the swollen lips which cover the end of her muzzle, glossy mounds eclipsing half of her face.

For just a moment, Trixie considers that there is something direly awry here and that she ought to endeavor to set it right.

$He stops when he sees the two ponies who have entered the study. They do resemble Starlight Glimmer and Trixie…very loosely, being pink and blue mares. Their frames are overtaken by huge, swollen curves, pert breasts which eclipse their torsos and broad hips and thighs jutting to either side, and fat, glossy lips that obscure their faces. They both seem to be focused upon a phone held in Starlight’s hands, with Trixie squeezing against her in order to lean in and look. “What…what is going on?” the stallion asks, stupefied. “Yeah, that looks perfect,” Trixie remarks with a chuckle. “Oh-em-cee, you are so right,” Starlight agrees, and they both giggle to each other as if not even noticing him, even though it seems like they’re training the phone directly upon him. “H-hey!” Even though the two of them are fully grown adults, if they’re going to act like children then Sunburst is going to have to treat them accordingly. With a flash of magic, he casts a levitation aura around the phone and tugs on it. “Hey!” Starlight cries back, fumbling with the device. Her finger presses on the shutter and the camera clicks with a bright flash that dazzles Sunburst. In the fraction of a second that his eyes blink, a rush of sensation overcomes him. Lurching in his stomach. His hooves falling out beneath him, causing him to stagger. An intense pressure welling up within him, straining his skin. A dull calm settling over his brain, quieting the thoughts and concerns which he had felt moments ago. Then he’s standing somewhere else.$

“Okay…”

Victor stands at the counter, huffing loudly to catch his breath. It took a while to set out all the ingredients he’s going to need for this video. It shouldn’t have been such a strenuous task, yet he feels winded all the same. There is the urge to take a few minutes just to sit down, but he doesn’t want to leave the ingredients sitting around for too long. It would be better if he could put off filming this video for the time being, but alas, he needs to have material prepared in advance. The best he can hope for is that this will be timely and helpful for someone watching his channel.

The remote that he can use to turn on the camera is helpful, making it so he doesn’t have to walk around or reach across the counter. He takes a few more calming breaths before he smiles into the glowing red dot on the device. “Hey there everyone, Victor here,” he says with a wave of his hand, “hope you’re all having a good day. I know I’m a little, ah, underdressed at the moment.” He chuckles nervously, anxiously, as he gestures to the bed sheet that he has wrapped around himself, toga-style. “Extenuating circumstances and all.”

The Nidoqueen steps up to the counter and gasps quietly when he bumps into it sooner than expected, causing everything upon it to rattle. He holds his breath, hoping that the camera wasn’t upset too drastically. He’s accustomed to holding his hands upon the counter while he’s speaking, but it might not be so easy to do so at present, so instead he just rests his arms around the sides of his gut. The struggle that Alice regularly faces whenever she helps him with cooking comes to mind, the way she can barely reach anything in front of her. But he’s not…that big.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

New drabble selection uploaded. Featuring Fruity Dragon, Plastic Diet, Friendship Fusion, Inflation Combo, Stuck Shadow, Prehistoric Pool, and Boob Duel. www.furaffinity.net/view/66288243/ #nonuberstories #furry #nsfw

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Rae @41dn.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

ko-fi.com/E1E3E6EX Alright! Rules: likes/RTs apply primarily to Bsky and Tumblr. Count for each part stops Saturday 12:00 PM. After certain thresholds, Lb gained will increase. Looks like Spice found the untested item What effects will this have on Epic's infrastructure?

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"Marrow" 🔞 🔜 BLFC, Furpoc? MFF @marrowhyena.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

If something makes you happy, but you don't tell the person that did it, then they will never know how you felt about it. It's something that I have to remind myself about, too often. Like the response isn't automatic, and I might even have to fight to get it out.

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Non Uberis @nonuberis.bsky.social · 07/09/2026

I really want to know if the petulant back-and-forth "Be careful" "No YOU be careful" between Eragon and Saphira was going to be a running gag if the Eragon movie continued into a series

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