Finally, after living in a chaotic household I managed to figure out a writing schedule! Expect more regular-ish uploads now, because I finally figured out how to write 300 words a day haha.

This is sorta an example of commissioned work I'd do if I ever really get committed into doing more commissions.  PsychicDragon is simply minding his own business one morning when, with unfathomable luck, somehow wins himself a lifetime supply of food from not one, but several restaurants, all at the same time! With no way to carry such an absurd amount of food, he figures there's only one way to ease the burdain.

Also little cameo with  Dragontzin because I can.

I hope you all enjoy!

---

Psychic placed a paw on his stomach as he felt it growl, feeling his fingers squish into the supple surface slightly. He had been looking forward to St. Patrick’s Day for quite some time now, however not in the way you might expect. Sure, he loved how the town pretty much transforms overnight, with big green banners hanging from the streetlights and drunken furs laughing and dancing in the street, but he didn’t come outside just to enjoy the scenery and join in with the town’s shenanigans. It’s not like any of them were really Irish anyways, they were just using the holiday as an excuse to party and drink way more than they should.

Which, to be fair, was pretty much exactly what the pudgy grey and white dragon was going to do, just in a different way.

“Everything smells so good.”

Psychic padded down the sidewalk, his sights solely set on the buildings despite the cavalcade of drunken furs dressed in green running around him. As much fun as it would be to join them, the large dragon was more focused on the bakeries lined up on the streets offering their once-a-year deals. The one Psychic was waddling towards, Patty’s Pastries, was doing a buy 6 get 6 free sale, which wasn’t something a glutton like himself could pass up. Rubbing his claws together gleefully, the large dragon slowly pushed through the door.

A handful of furs stood inside the well-lit bakery, all of which were wearing the same bright green clothing as the partying furs outside, and all of which were staring directly at him. Psychic froze in the doorway, his golden eyes wide at the sight before him. No one made any noise, save for the door-mounted bell still ringing against the tall dragon’s horns, and said dragon’s own increased heart-beat. He had expected the bakery to be much quieter than outside, that’s for sure, but he wasn’t prepared to be stared at like this, almost as if everyone had been expecting him. After nearly two full minutes of this torture, Psychic finally cracked under the pressure and spoke out. “U-uh, c-can I get t-two dozen ecla-”

The room suddenly exploded into cheers, causing the poor drake to jump (er, wobble) from shock. Just what the bloody hell did he get himself into? Was this all some elaborate ruse someone had set up earlier as a prank, or even worse, to body shame himself? Sure, he was a large dragon, unusually large in fact, standing in at a little under 10 feet and almost half as wide, but that was no fault of his… sort of. He was just about to buy two dozen eclairs after all.

From behind the counter a female husky chuckled, most likely in response to the horrified look on Psychic’s face. “Heehee, sorry about the shouting. We’re doing a special giveaway, and the person in front of you just barely didn’t win, so everyone was waiting until the winner finally walked through that door.”

“O-oh, is that so?” Psychic chuckled back, running a paw through his lavender hair in an attempt to look more calm and collected than he really felt. With shaky legs, the jiggling drake waddled up to the desk with the most genuine smile he could muster, trying to suppress the anxiety attack that was just waiting to happen. “S-so, I take it was the winner?”

“Definitely! With an order like two dozen eclairs, how could you not be?” The husky snickered, her tail wagging playfully behind her. “The contest was: whoever bought the 777th pastry here wins 1000 of our famous cupcakes!”

“I...I...Uh…” Psychic didn’t even bother trying to hide his shock, his forehead suddenly feeling quite clammy. He had been looking forward to walking out with a box or two of his favorite treats, and yet here he was, watching as every worker in the building (and even some of the customers who were simply having fun just being involved) disappeared behind the back door, only to return carrying enormous platters of various green cupcakes. The dragon’s mouth started to water as their combined scent wafted to his nose, his eyes fixated on the treats. They all smelled freshly baked too, and there was enough of them to cover the entirety of the counter and then some!

“Well, what are you waiting for, big guy? Help yourself!”

“I...Erh…” The bashful drake wanted to dive right in, but he shook himself out of it, his tail curling and uncurling around his leg. “I… there’s no way I can carry all of that home. I didn’t bring a car here or anything.”

“Is it because you can’t fit in a car?”

“That… isn’t the point I’m trying to make here,” Psychic grumbled, feeling his chubby cheeks flush bright red.

For a moment, the excitement in the bakery started to die down as the group of furs started talking amongst themselves, trying to figure out a plan on how the large dragon could carry his goods back home. Some offered to walk with Psychic back to his place, or drive the cupcakes there, but the thought of having to cram so many succulent pastries into a box in order to fit inside the vehicle made the dragon’s stomach drop. He didn’t want to ruin the hard work the bakers did for him, after all. For now, it felt like there was no hope for the poor winner of the 1000 cupcakes, that is, had not a small black and grey draolf spoken up in the back.

“Well, why not try eating as much as you can for now?”

It was said in a half-joking manner, but the more Psychic thought about it, the more he really wanted to try those cupcakes... you know, to help lighten the load of those offering to help him! Besides, maybe the extra sugar and carbs would help give him the energy needed to think of a better strategy. Without putting any more thought into it, the dragon grabbed the nearest cupcake and bit down.

As the flavor washed over his mouth, he knew he had made the right decision. Everything, from soft texture of the cake to the rich and sweet cream served as a reminder to why Patty’s Pastries was number one. With the first bite still in his mouth, the large dragon quickly crammed the rest of the miniature cake into his maw, purring happily before swallowing it down. That single cupcake alone was so thick and filling, and he still had 999 more to go.

Finding no need to restrain himself much longer, the gluttonous dragon grabbed two more with each paw, popped them one at a time into his broad, stubby muzzle. Each one tasted just as good as the last, and while the individual flavors didn’t vary much, they were still far too delicious and addicting for Psychic to stop. Occasionally, he would stop to lick his chops clean of the green frosting, even though they would simply revert back after another 5 or so cupcakes.

One by one, the different furs in the bakery stopped what they were doing to stare at the voracious dragon, their conversations dropping completely. At first, Psychic felt a little nervous from the additional attention his gluttony was giving him, his goat-like ears folding back. However, the dragon-wolf hybrid from earlier gave a loud whistle, and soon the entire bakery was filled with the same excitement it had when Psychic was first declared the winner. With the additional motivational boost, the drake started eating at an even faster rate, happy to show off just how much he can cram into his great gut.

Soon, the effects of consuming vast quantities of sugary treats started to make itself apparent on Psychic. At first the signs were subtle: the dragon’s shirt and jacket lifting up a bit whenever he raised his arms to his head, revealing a sliver of his pudgy grey belly. Gradually, that sliver grew more and more noticeable, until it persisted even when he lowered his arms. All around, the drake was looking, well, rounder. His clothes dug deeper into his scales, revealing every curve and roll of flab on his belly and sides. His jeans in particular were looking abnormally tight around his rear thighs, leaving little to the imagination for anyone who happened to want to catch a glimpse at his full moons.

“Holy hell, look at him eat!”

“I know! 400 cupcakes down and he’s still going strong!”

“I can’t believe it! Someone get this dragon in an eating contest!”


“Haha, totally! We’d make a killer if we bet on him!”

Psychic felt his cheeks flush red yet again, only this time it was with pride. He had always assumed the general public looked down on anyone as heavy and self-indulgent as he was, so the praise was quite the welcome surprise. He had thought about slowing down too, seeing as how his jacket was now painfully digging into his stomach, but upon hearing those wonderful words, he had instead decided to unclasp his jacket instead, watching with mild surprise as his gut rolled forward past his waist, pushing the zipper up by itself. Another 50 cupcakes in, and his pants button finally gave way, his stomach sagging another 6 inches lower, and about time too! He was horrified at the thought of ripping open the seat of his pants in front of all these people.

Fortunately, all eyes were on Psychic’s front, just as Psychic’s eyes were on the dwindling supply of cupcakes before him. His flabby arms were starting to feel stiff and sore from the constant movement, each of them now as thick as his legs were when he first walked into the bakery. The stiffness was only relieved somewhat when the sleeves of his shirt ripped open, spilling out more of his underarm flab. Any extra space his pants might have had were now completely full of dragon pudge, his rear now starting to spill out over the helm of his abused jeans. Psychic wasn’t sure how much more his clothes could take…

Eventually, his claws finally came up empty. Still in his hunger-driven state, the obese dragon continued gobbling up cupcakes that weren’t even there before finally coming to the realization that he had just eaten 1000 cupcakes in the span of half an hour. With a lengthy belch, Psychic sighed and patted his stomach, watching it wobble before him. “Urf, that was bwarp tasty…”

It took a massive round of applause from the occupants of the bakery to finally bring Psychic back to his senses, who was still reveling in the cupcakes’ lingering flavor. Soon, he was swarmed by the group of congratulating furs, multiple paws slapping his broad back or patting his exposed belly. “Damn dude, I thought you were gonna burst for a moment there, but your gut’s still as soft as ever!” The draolf from earlier exclaimed, digging his paw deep into the dragon’s expansive middle.

“Heheh, I...I could have kept going,” Psychic shyly responded in a small voice that betrayed his large size, awkwardly rubbing a claw through his hair. Although, in hindsight, that probably wasn’t the smartest of moves, seeing as how the back of his jacket immediately riiiiiped open. Hopefully he could find someone to fix that by the end of the day. Do tailors do St. Patrick’s Day sales?

Well in any case, he should really be going now. The large drake smiled and waved shyly as he lumbered his way back out of the bakery, blushing as his hips now brushed against the door. Walking, er, waddling, was certainly a bit trickier now with the extra poundage on his body, the dragon sloshing and wobbling a bit with every step he took. Getting home was going to be a real hassle…and he really needed to use the restroom. Maybe he should take a short break, and perhaps grab a few snacks to go on his way back home. For energy, of course.

Already feeling short of breath, Psychic huffed as he slowly trudged through the front doors of the pizzeria nearby an-

“CONGRATS!”

Again?!

---

Tzin waited for the setting sun to descend below the buildings before finally stepping over the counter to start sweeping. He was exhausted, as evident by his slumped shoulders as he sluggishly dragged the broom around, tired of dealing with intoxicated furs shouting and leaving behind messes. The feathered dragon had no idea who this Saint Patrick was or what he accomplished, but figured he must have been a hell of a jerk if this is how people have been celebrating his legacy.

He had just finished sweeping the empty beer cans and wrappers back behind the counter when he felt it again: a sudden tremur that had been popping up sporadically all day. Normally when that happened, there would be a loud cheer outside, so Tzin would simply assume the town’s idiots were up to some sort of shenanigans, however this time the tremors not only persisted, they were growing stronger, as well as the cheering.

Turning around to look outside his shop, Tzin could see why.

At first, he had assumed someone had parked their pearly-white semi truck right outside his store as some sort of strange prank. However, upon closer inspection, the feathered reptile’s jaws dropped to the freshly mopped floor as he realized that truck was actually a dragon like himself!

“Hey, you *BWURRAP* open?”

Psychic’s huffing and puffing was only interrupted by an occasional belch that practically exploded out of him, his series of thick, sloping neck rolls making him look more like an ash-covered volcano than that of a drake. For literal hours, he had been doing nothing but waddling around town and eating the exorbitant amount of food he had won just from simply showing up at the right restaurant/bakery/eatery at the right time. With sheer dumb luck, he had managed to win upwards of 16 different contests, each of which offered just as much, if not more, food than the 1000 cupcakes from earlier. With plenty of encouragement from the friends he made at the bakery, as well as pretty much anyone else who bore witness to the dragon’s growing luck (and girth), Psychic tore through all of his winnings with gluttonous glee, and it’s results clearly showed.

He was enormous! A mountain of white blubbery scales several thousand pounds too heavy to even think about squeezing through the double-wide doors before him. His gut alone barely managed to squeeze inside, filling up the entire doorspace while smothering a large portion of the tile floor before him. Even with such an impressively large appendage blocking most of his view, Tzin could still make out the two hill-like rumps bulging to the side and back of the enormous drake, large enough to even be seen over Psychic’s head. And those moobs! Tzin knew “melons” were typically the largest comparison people made to describe breasts, but Psychic’s lumbs of chest flab were the size of wheelbarrows, unable to even pour through the front door with the wall of belly obstructing them.

“Erh...ahh...um…” The smaller dragon only realized now that he had been standing there stuttering for quite some time now, much to the amusement of the crowd of people outside. “Well… I mean, the oven is still on, so I suppose-”

“Great, gimme *bwurp* your grand prize.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tzin frowned. Had people been feeding him free food this entire time?! “I-I’m not running a contest, sir. The deals for today are-”

“Don’t care *hic* I’ll be outside.”

The storeowner was completely flabbergasted, stuck watching in silence yet again as he saw a draolf and three others attempt to help unwedge the dragon’s gut from the doorway, their arms sinking into the scaley pudge like it was an enormous pile of dough. How was he even supposed to react to that when he was still busy trying to figure out how to react to the ridiculous weight of the dragon before him! The furs struggling to even lift a fraction of his colossal gut looked almost like ants on a hill, and he was supposed to feed that thing tacos!

“...Sure thing, I’ll have it right out.” Tzin smiled as he disappeared into the kitchen, thinking about the wonderful reception he could earn from the other guests outside if his tacos satiated that monster of a dragon. Besides, maybe if he asked nicely, he could earn himself a quick nap atop of that gut. Perhaps this holiday wasn’t so bad after all.