and i got some free food with it even

Serious talk...

.I don’t care if you are a Dog Person;

A Horse Person

A Cow person

A Fish Person

Or a fucking SHITTY PERSON who cares about NOTHING

THIS IS NOT OKAY

IS NOT OKAY!

I found these 8 little angels at my University (College) walking in the middle of the CARS at the parking lot!

My University has plenty of cats and even dogs who got there looking for shelter. Where students, for free will, give them food and water 

I got EVERY SINGLE ONE of them and put them at some safe place. I dont know where their mother is, i don’t even know if they will survive till tomorrow!!!

I KNOW if I can not do much, neither do you guys can.. But.. Take a MOMENT of your day just to look at these faces.

EVEN if you are not a “”CAT-PERSON”” Please. Just… please…Stop and look at them, look into their eyes and tell me WHY AND WHAT MAKES THEM ANY LESS SPECIAL. 

WHAT MAKES THEM NOT WORTH YOUR HELP?

LAST WEEK A DOG GAVE BIRTH TO 12 PUPPIES! AND ALL 12 WERE ADOPTED BEFORE THEY EVEN COMPLETED 2 WEEKS OF LIFE.

BUT NO ONE IS MOVING TO GET ONE OF THESE ANGELS BECAUSE “I’M NOT A CAT-PERSON”

i myself am what people would call “A dog-person”. But i have a CAT i rescued! She is my best friend now! Even tho I have a dog!

FUCK THAT SHIT ABOUT CAT PERSON OR DOG PERSON!!! BE A PERSON, FIRST! BE A HUMAN!!!!!!!

So your bird needs medicated

And you’re not looking forward to the fighting and the manhandling that might involve. But DON’T WORRY FRIENDS. Let me show you my secret weapon:

Motherfucking BABY FOOD. The secret to smuggling medicine into your little scream child and making them think it’s the greatest gift you’ve ever given them. And also the secret to training your healthy bird to see the medicine dropper as a vehicle for treats instead of medicine. Just choose their favorite fruit or veggie in baby food form. In this house the favorites are bananas, apples, pears, and sweet potatoes. 

(I can’t find the source anymore, but make sure you don’t get the combo flavors. The idea behind this is the combo flavors have more ingredients and potentially something not good for your birds. This banana baby food only contains two ingredients: bananas and a little bit of lemon juice.)

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anonymous asked:

Pleasepleasepleaseplease write a friends-to-lovers with Hobi if you have enough free time! Your other ones are so amazing, you write the boys so well and just OH MY GOD I CAN'T HANDLE THE CUTENESS. I really love all of your imagines, and that Tae friends-to-lovers one has a special place in my heart. YOU ARE SO AMAZING, I HOPE YOU'RE FEELING WELL <3<3<3

find: jin | jimin | namjoon | jungkook | yoongi | taehyung 

  • you meet hoseok at a party,,,,,but the thing is you’re not supposed to be there 
  • like literally,,,,,you don’t know whose party this is it’s just that you’d heard music from downstairs and when you’d checked it out the door was open and some tipsy girl had let you in
  • and inside it was dark, messy, and crowded but you could smell free food and possibly free drinks so. why not
  • but you didn’t expect someone to go “ive never seen you before, how d o you know jungkook?”
  • and banging your head on the roof of the fridge as you stood up you saw a boy,,,,with a smile that radiates like the sun looking at you
  • and you,,,,with your hands full of a stack of pizza slices, an unopened bottle of cola, and three popsicles went: “oh i know him from college”
  • “jungkook isn’t in college.”
  • “,,,,,we meet at summer camp in the 8th grade.”
  • “jungkook’s never been to camp.”
  • “,,,,”
  • “,,,,”
  • you’d contemplated just making a run for it but that’d be awkward to push back through the crowd so sighing you just admitted. you had no idea who jungkook was. you were trying to get some free food. you are a good person just a broke good person right now.
  • the boy’s smile had only widened and he laughed out loud because honestly,,,,,this isn’t even jungkooks party. it’s taehyungs. he knew you were lying from the start 
  • you’d got embarrassed and went you tricked me!!! and he was just like hey you’re the one holding all of my friends food and you don’t even know him so -
  • and you were like good point ,,,,, and that’s when he’d introduced himself as hoseok and helped you carry the rest of the pizza back up to your apartment 
  • and,,,,since then hoseok had become sort of a friend,,,,
  • his friend taehyung lived in your building so you’d see him around frequently and every now and then you two would chat or whatever
  • and hoseok always,,,,has this good vibe around him
  • like this positive energy that makes you feel comfortable and at ease even though he’ll call you pizza thief on occasion and you’ll be like SH what if taehyung hears and hoseok just laughs because he’s pretty sure taehyung doesn’t remember what happened yesterday,,,he probably wont remember pizza you stole months ago
  • and it’s not like you and hoseok are super close,,,,,you don’t text or hang out you just know each other because of that one incident 
  • and you mutually like each other as people so it’s like ,,,, really casual friends
  • until one day you’re walking home and it’s poURINg RAIN 
  • given it’s summer so it’s warm outside,,,but still the rain is coming down and ur flimsy umbrella is about to break so you’re thankful that you’re almost home
  • but as you pass to the front door you see someone standing out in the rain,,,,hair and clothing drenched and you realize that it’s hoseok
  • and you’re like dude??? come inside i have keys
  • but hoseok just smiles and shakes his head and is like the rain is nice and you’re like ????
  • hoseok chuckles and is also like taehyung isn’t home yet so i thought id wait outside,,,,it started to rain but i kinda liked  the feeling,,,,,its freeing you now??
  • and for a split moment you think that his smile,,,,warm like sunshine,,,,and his prefrence for standing out here in the rain,,,,it’s really something
  • but you just shrug and you’re like suit yourself- when hoseok reaches out and pulls you back and he’s like “i bet you’ll enjoy it too?”
  • and you’re like hoSEOK and he’s like “c’mon what do you have to lose?”
  • and for some reason,,,,hoseok’s charming voice and face are enough to make you close the umbrella and the rain on your skin,,,,,doesn’t feel so bad 
  • hoseok takes both your hands and starts twirling you around and you’re like giggling but you’re also like what are you doing??
  • and hoseok stops just to slip his hand around your waist and the other lifts your other hand up and you realize he’s leading you in a dance
  • and you’re like “what is this ,,, dancing in the rain???” 
  • and hoseok is just grinning,,, at this point both your hair is plastered to your faces and your clothes are heavy with water
  • but none of that annoys you like it usually does,,,,, just being with hoseok makes it totally fun and enjoyable
  • and you’ve never realized it fully but hoseok’s got some sort of magic in the ways of making weird situations feel good,,,,,doesn’t he?
  • and as you’re laughing,,,,swaying in the rain with him 
  • hoseok suddenly pulls you in close and your noses practically touch when he mumbles that even the rain cant make you look bad
  • the wet hair, the wet clothes, the little goosebumps on your skin,,,,,,you still look gorgeous to him 
  • and you’re stunned at the sudden words,,,,but you can only say that you feel the same way
  • that even now,,,,he looks handsome 
  • and the dancing stops but hoseok’s eyes flicker between your lips and gaze and it doesn’t take him long to slip a hand onto your neck, tilt your head a bit so he can kiss you under the rain
  • and it’s,,,,,,more romantic than you expect,,,,breaking away from each other you ask what it is that made him want to kiss you
  • and hoseok shrugs and says that maybe it’s because you’re the only person he’s ever met that willingly danced in the rain with him 
  • and also the only person he’s ever met that came to a party just to steal food,,,,,,
  • you shove him playfully and tell him that isn’t a reason to start liking someone but hoseok begs to differ,,,,,,he thinks it makes up your charm hehe

anonymous asked:

HOW DID yoU PROPOSE WHAT WAS IT LIKE TELL US ALL ABOUT IT WAS IT IN FRONT OF PEOPLE OR By YOURSELVES WERE YOU JUST OUT BEIN YOUR GAY ASS SELVES AND YOURE JUS LIKE “ey bb how would you like to have a 10/10 day to remember for the rest of your life” OR SUMTHIN

AHAHAH okay okay WELL I took her to spend the day in the city in a rly nice hotel (they put fuckin rose petals all over the bed………… so extra and so good) and during the evening we got all pretty’d up and went for some fancy italian food downtown! we had the place nearly all to ourselves and our waiter was like “IS IT JUST YOU TWO OR ARE YOU EXPECTING MORE PEOPLE??? it’s not just you two ladies is it????” but surprise IT WAS and they gave us free drinks and wine and honestly the food was dank it was pretty great…… and we started talking about life and the conversation got emotional and suddenly we were both teary eyed and considering what we had been through and not knowing what the future would be like because of the context of our relationship and how everything got so much more difficult after my experience at the airport, I was just like ok fuck it and I pulled out the ring and she was all like “lol baby…….. what is that” and I was like “I don’t know…. it’s like, an option lol…. like if u want….” because I’m a PUSSY and terrified of rejection and this binch just…. put the ring on herself….. just like that…. she went for it…. and finally I popped the got dam question and she said yes which I’m still so baffled about and I cannot believe I get to call Casey my fiancée but spoiler alert: it’s great!

BTS - you feeling down.

Request: Please please do bangtan when you are feeling down and they back hug you bc of it… and well.. react to you feeling down.


Seokjin:

As always, he loves to cook for you. Especially if you’re feeling down. “Princess … How about I make some delicious food for you?” He says, and hug you from behind.

Yoongi:

“Love, why are you like this?” He asks looking at you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know, I’m just down.” “But if you’re sad, I’ll be sad too. Look at my sad face.” You laugh with the face he does.

Hoseok:

You were alone at home watching a sad movie, to match your mood. He opens the door and sees you on the couch, hurrying to you. “Why are you with this sad face?” “Because I’m sad!” “No, baby, you can’t be sad, look at me, I’m your sunshine.”

Namjoon:

You go to the dorm because you’re feeling down. Maybe seeing your boyfriend would improve. “Oh, come to me, my love!” Namjoon says opening his arms. You stay together for a while, but you don’t get much better. “Oh, look!” He slaps his own face. “Why do you act like I’m a kid to laugh at it?” You say, laughing. “You laughed! You’re a kid!” (sorry that was a shit)

Jimin:

“Jimin, stop joking to cheer me up.” “No, I have to make my baby laugh.” He smiles exaggeratedly, and you laugh this time. “See? I got it.”

Taehyung:

He begins to tell you a random and meaningless story, leaving you confused. “What are you saying, Tae?” You laugh. “I don’t know, I’m just trying to cheer you up, but I don’t even know how.” He laughed even more.

Jungkook:

“Do you want hugs?” “No.” “Kisses?” “No.” “Baby, what do I do to cheer you up?” “Nothing!” “Umm, what if I buy some food?” “Hmmm, maybe.” You smile. “You are impossible.”


Requests are open! Feel free to ask. (click here if u want.)

Monsta X Imagine | As Neighbors

| If it isn’t too much work (I totally understand if it is!) you should do that cute Neighbors AU thing with the members of Monsta X! I feel like they would be 2cute4thisworld as neighbors. BUT only do it if you feel like it isn’t too much to ask for.  | my friend i am so excited for thissss ~Admin H


Shownu: honestly in this AU he’s still a super buff darling dancer that u hear thumping around at 3 am dancing to Big Bang but he’s got a super soft side 2 him and he isn’t afraid of showing it he’s got lovely curtains and he’s v proud of his little herb garden on his balcony and he’s got an apron that says Kiss the Cook on it that Minhyuk got him as a joke but he ended dup loving it a lot and u always see him tending and talking to his plants bc ur balcony is next to his and you think its really sweet until one day the neighbor’s mean old cat climbs into his balcony and starts eating his plants and ur reading ur book on urs and you freak out at it bc no!!! those are his lil friends!!! but he’s not home so you climb over into his balcony and try to shoo the cat off but then shown comes home to u battling a cat away from his plants and its a v strange sight but u guys bc low-key friends until he realizes….wowow ur like…really cute…

Wonho: he’s your low key annoying neighbor that at first you’re like oh god….he’s one of those Party Douchebags that’s constantly bringing girls over and having loud parties but then u find out the only reason he brings girls home is bc he’s making sure that they have a safe place to sleep off the alcohol in their system or get an uber ride home, and he plays loud music bc he’s practicing dancing for a charity show, and the random thumping on walls is when he’s talking to his mom on the phone while doing chores and he walked into a wall and after u help him save a kitten off the streets u guys really bond n now u guys r pretty much inseparable and maybe he starts 2 have feelings for you…. 

Minhyuk: he’s that really loud neighbor but you really dont mind that he’s loud bc he’s so cute and so happy and kind and he’s that neighbor that always orders food at weird times of the day so sometimes you’ll get a knock on the door at like…12 at night and he’s holding a box of pizza and he’s got half a slice in his mouth like…hey i’ve ordered too many boxes do u want to come over w my friends and i and eat some and at first ur like um what time is it but then um free food hell yes and that’s how u become best friends w minhyuk 

Kihyun: he’s the mom neighbor that you can always go to if you need sugar, a bit of flour for something, or if u need advice!! He’s always there for you and he the type of neighbor to bring you cookies if he even gets a hint that you’re feeling down, and he’s the first person you go to if you need someone to watch your apartment/animals when you have to go away for a while, and he’s pretty much one of your best friends in a mothering neighbor form.(he also makes sure that you get home safely if you have a night of drinking, bringing you advil and water in the morning after purposefully talking loudly)

Hyungwon: his apartment is just,,,,instagram goals like seriously,,,,its just so neat and aesthetically pleasing and he loves to find cool little things he can bring back to his apartment to take pictures of and his walls have this huge collection of polaroid pictures and he’s the one you go to when you need advice about interior decorating and when you’ve had a bad day and he’s the king of 6$ wine that tastes like $3,000 and you guys watch dramas or reality shows and talk trash and are salt buddies and you guys have neighbor dates where is just you guys bitching to each other about life over wine and junk food and it’s wonderful and eventually he’s like,,,,instead of being salty over other people how about we like,,,,,,be salty about people together

Jooheon: Joohoney is sort of scary to some of the elderly neighbors like they think he’s up 2 no good bc he always wears dark colors and piercings and in this AU he’s got a tongue piercing bc i can and he just spells bad news and u believe it until one day the power goes out and you just hear this screech and u dont know who it is until theres a knocking on ur door and its Jooheon in a fluffy pink bathrobe w kittens on it and he’s got tears in his eyes and ur like,,,who is this boy and turns out he was in the shower when the power went out and he’s actually….super cute and nice his apartment is filled w cute pictures of animals and really pretty plates and lots of plants that all have names and u guys end up talking for forever until the lights come back on and ur like oh shit,,,,he cute 

Changkyun: he’s just?? he seems like the most normal person in ur building until u hear his screeching along gin the shower to AOA and he has like 15 different packages outside his door like does he have an online shopping problem?(the answer is yes) but it turns out he’s buying amiibos and you once saw him literally wait at the door for a package and he’s got the nintendo switch in his hands and ur like,,,fuck. holy shit. hOOOLY SHIT and you race over there and practically break down his door like heY YOU DONT KNOW ME BUT LIKE THAT’S THE SWITCH ISNT IT and at first he’s like um my door but then hELL YEAH ITS THE SWITCH WANNA PLAY SNIPPERCLIPS TOGETHER and that’s how u guys bond and eventually he’s like…wow this person is not only cute but like,,,,,a huge nerd,,perfect

Writing Tips: Beginnings

Hi guys, 

I know from experience (as I’m sure you do too) that the start of the story is often the hardest part to write. You can have whole worlds mapped out, extensive plots worked down to the most intricate details, fleshed-out characters, the lot, but when you sit down to embark on this epic journey of creation… Nothing. 

So today I’ve got a few tips for you on how to write beginnings (and if you have your own magical kernels of advice I urge you to share them!)

• Start Your Story at the Last Possible Moment: This is one I learned just recently, and actually changed the starting point of my current manuscript because of it. It’s crucial for grabbing the reader’s attention. Your reader doesn’t have the time or patience to read about your main character waking up, having breakfast, travelling to school, sitting through classes, going to football practice and then witnessing a murder on the way home. Show them the murder first. Drop them in the thick of the action. It wouldn’t make sense to start your story after the murder, hence what I mean about the last possible moment, then you’d miss all the fun! Start narrating at the closest point to the first important event in your story, and your reader won’t have time to get bored.

• Your Reader Doesn’t Care (Yet): I know you love your protagonist. You know their backstory, you adore their little quirks and you’re rooting from them from Page 1. You know your baddie is wicked, you despise them for what they’ve done (or perhaps like me you have a little soft spot for them!). I know you’re desperate for that romance to blossom. Guess who doesn’t care? The reader. …Sorry. Like it or not, you need to make them care, as soon as you can. The kid who witnessed the murder earlier? They only saw it because they were moving a tiny cute hedgehog from the road into the park. Bam. The reader cares about the animal-lover and evidently nice person. Remember to show their struggle, show the stakes, so the reader can’t bare to put the book down. 

• Try Not to Info-Dump: It’s tempting. I know. Especially with high-concept genres like sci-fi and fantasy, you want your reader to understand what’s going on right from the offset. But this goes back to my last point: they really don’t care yet. Believe it or not, you can give plenty of information at the start without overwhelming or boring your reader. Your title, your cover, your blurb, all of these can and should be giving an indication of what readers can expect. Furthermore, you’d be amazed just how little readers need to know to get engrossed in your book, but not be misled. Show them a newly-formed rebellion, they’ll guess there’s a tyrant leader. Show them a highly emotional break-up, they’ll guess the relationship was facing difficulties. You can weave more details into the story as it progresses, but only give your readers the bare minimum at the start. 

Finally, Ignore All of This: Yup. There we go. Ultimately, assuming you’re working on your first draft, the beginning isn’t that important until you’ve finished the damn story. Start. Write a horrific beginning. If it’s slow, thick with information, even boring, get on with it. Get to the good stuff, and fix it later. That’s what editing’s for. 


So there you have it, my tips for writing a super, engaging beginning to hook your readers. There’s plenty related to this that I haven’t covered here, but coming up soon I’ll have a post on prologues, one on introducing characters/settings, basically I’ve got you covered. Thanks for reading, hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it, and I’ve given you some food for thought. Feel free to send me any questions, I’d love to help!

Until next time.

- Hazel :)

anonymous asked:

Isak eats really unhealthy! While his friends are all eating sandwiches at school he'll eat a bun or a Norwegian waffle. Like boy should not be living by himself, lol. I'm glad even makes him eggs for breakfast. And I wonder if even is good at cooking in general. At least he seems to be taking charge in the kitchen so far. I have a feeling Isak is the kind to just grab a handful of cereal out of the box before

FO’ REAL!! I doubt Isak has had a balanced meal since he ran away from home! And he may very well grab cereal from the box, assuming he has any at home, either way he’s probably forgotten to buy milk.

Even is definitely more interested in cooking than Isak, and given that he has some seasoning tricks to make the food taste better, I imagine he has some culinary talents as well. Isak however, I doubt could cook to save his own life! At least this is what empiric data tells me…

Because of course me being the weirdo I am, I’m physically incapable of speculating about stuff like this without researching and getting all the facts™ first, so I’ve gone through all the times (that I could remember) we’ve seen Isak eating and compiled some data.

In the words of Isak: NU KÖR VI~


We don’t really know anything about Isak’s eating habits at home (in S1). And aside from Even, the only one who’s made food for Isak is Eva. When they were at Jonas’ cabin she made them pasta and tomato sauce

She also treated him to a coffee at one point (not food but still!).

I didn’t remember seeing Isak eat anything in particular in S2, so let’s skip onto S3….

First time we see Isak eating in S3, is the bun you mentioned. We see him tearing the raisin out of the bun, which tells me this is one of those semi-sweet raisin buns. They are delicious but not exactly healthy. (somewhat related: after close inspection I’m 95% sure these are raisin buns with CARDAMOM ❤︎).

Next time we see him eating it’s the cheese toast with ALL THE SPICES and ketchup that Even made him. Not exactly balanced food, but alright for a midday snack imo?

Unfortunately I doubt Isak finished it… when their datehangout got interrupted by guests, you see Isak look down dejectedly at his toasts and tap his thumb against his leg. :( Once Sonja is introduced I imagine Isak made himself scarce.

When Even spends the weekend at Isak’s after Halloween, they must have eaten something. The flatmates didn’t see either of them until Sunday, supposedly, but the mug Even puts ash in suggests to me that Isak probably sneaked out and made them sandwiches & cocoa or smth (that or the mug was already in his room… but one entire day, they’d have to eat) at some point.

Isak isn’t really great at getting breakfast either. That Sunday he literally opens the door, gets asked about Even by Noora and Eskild, and then closes the door again. Wonder how long it took for him to dare venture out… boy must have been starving!

After the painful ‘breakup’ when Isak wasn’t sleeping well, I can’t imagine he was eating so great either. Especially not if you consider the sad sad toast he got from the canteen. One toast with only cheese, it seriously looks just as tired as Isak does!

Of all the foods Isak has bought, the kebab he ate with Jonas is definitely among the healthiest. I imagine he spends most of his allowance/the money his dad sends on snapbacks (he can’t have borrowed all of them!), beer and eating fast food.

Luckily, if it’s down to Even Isak gets to eat a sturdy breakfast. And that’s good considering how Isak hardly seems to be able to get himself breakfast at the flat. (does he even have any food there?) I imagine that Even realized this when he stayed over the previous time, and simply decided to take matters into his own hands, with a little help from the Noora (and Eskild), making Isak scrambled eggs after staying over the second time.

Isak doesn’t join the guys for pizza… but on Friday, Isak waits for Even at the KB. I only saw a coffee cup though, so who knows if he had anything to eat there? Once again Even makes sure they get some food, ordering burgers and champagne (and what looks like cakes? fancy smørbrød?) at the hotel. Isak doesn’t exactly lack appetite at that point ;)

We don’t know what or how he ate the days after… but on Tuesday, we’re back to Isak’s classic diet. He gets a waffle. The guy doesn’t even put jam or anything tasty on it (except whipped cream?). idk what is up with Nissen’s canteen, but stuff looks plain af. (I feel for norwegianall kids who are forced to pay for or bring their own school lunches….)

Now last food Isak prepared (as I am writing this) was a ready-made frozen Grandiosa pizza, which can hardly be considered cooking. And it wasn’t even his (he doesn’t have any food at the flat does he…).

In conclusion (TL;DR):

I doubt Isak knows how to cook. I’m CERTAIN he maintains a horribly unhealthy diet ever since he ran away from home. And I’m hoping that Even’s cooking skills extend beyond breakfast and sandwiches, but honestly I’m fairly certain it does? Even seems comfortable enough in a kitchen to figure it out and make them some healthy food. So with Even in his life…

Hallelujah Isak is saved!!

I work at an outdoor mall and some of the stores do discounts for people who also work at the mall.
My store never had an official discount but I was told that if someone asks just give them a drink for free
This basically turned into a shit show though.

Before long we were having people in plain clothes, who weren’t buying any food, come into the store and reach over my station to grab themselves a large drink cup. Without. Saying. Anything.

Beyond that we also had people just making up their own discount (even after I got us to stop providing it)

“Okay have a nice day”
“I work here can I have my free chips”
“Sorry! We actually don’t have a discount for workers!”
“Um…actually you do. Green workers get free chips”
“Actually no; we stopped providing a discount because people were just taking things”
*doesnt believe me*


Like listen dumbass I’ve worked here for months; we don’t have a discount in the first place much less one that you’ve just decided that you get

Everything To Lose

((A/N: Here’s a sweet Bucky fic! I love Bucky, and I feel like he’s the type to keep people at a distance. I won’t spoil it, but just enjoy :) 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2k))

When Tony Stark had first approached all of you about the fact that he was holding a formal gala, you had figured it was out of courtesy. However, when he approached you a second time and asked what exactly you were planning on wearing, it was clear that he wasn’t just letting you know. He expected you there.

“C’mon, Tony. I hate galas,” you whined, huffing as you followed the man around his lab, dreading the very idea of a charity gala. And why even invite the Avengers? It was better if the world didn’t know who you were, wasn’t it? Going to a gathering in a dress? That was the last thing you needed.

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BTS Reaction | Saying "I love you" for the first time

The reactions will continue below the cut since they are a little long!

-Admin Yeona

Kim Seokjin

You and him hadn’t been able to talk very much lately due to him and the other boys prepping music, choreography, and more for their next comeback. However, Jin had messaged you earlier in the day saying that he’d get some free time later to come visit you. Knowing how much Jin loves food, you decided to make him his favorite meal for when he got to your place. Even though time seemed to fly by, both of you were anxious to finally get some time together, and at last, that time came.

He walked through your front door which you left unlocked and made his way to the kitchen, the aroma of your home cooking immediately reaching his nose. When he got to you, his arms slid around your waist from behind and he saw what you were making, causing the words to just slip off his tongue.

“Jagi…Is this for me? Wow, I’m so lucky to have such an amazing cook! I love you so much!“

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Min Yoongi

It was one of those few times where Suga gave himself a break from his daily stress of songwriting, and since you two haven’t gotten to be together very much lately, he decided to give you his time. You two passed this time indoors at his place, mostly cuddling on the couch while the tv rambled on in the background, with the occasion of you guys wanting a snack, drink, or playing a few card games at the coffee table. Yoongi was actually really affectionate with you, he wouldn’t show it a lot in public, but when you two were alone, he would express to you in various ways just how much he cared for you. Although you had kissed multiple times, neither of you never actually said those 3 words of affection yet.

You both had eventually gotten from Yoongi giving you soft kisses off and on to a complete make out session (of course he had started it). He was then on top of you, your hands on the back of his head to deepen the kiss, fingers laced messily in his dark locks. One of his hands was cradling your face while the other was in a fist, using his strength as his forearm propped him up enough that he didn’t crush you. Once you both pulled away, eyes staring into each other with pure love and adoration for one another, he paused as if contemplating something, then spoke.

“God…I love you so much, Y/N.”

Originally posted by remartins97

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Addicted Part 2 - Jughead x Reader

A/N: You guys seemed to like Addicted and wanted a part 2 so here you go!! I hope you enjoy and I may be making a part 3 if you’re interested :) Part One

Warnings: Drugs, drinking, smoking, violence, swearing, angst

Word count:  1875


You were sitting in English bored out of your mind, the effects of the pills were starting to wear off and you were craving a cigarette, you could see Jughead out of the corner of your eye, you started to think about how to ask if he was related to FP, after all, FP was ‘the second’ and this Jughead guy seemed to be ‘the third’ but you had been to FP’s house and never seen this boy so something was up.

Suddenly your attention was drawn to a note that was thrown at you, you turned to see Betty smiling and mouthing “Open it”, you looked down at the note and unfolded it.

Pops after school, meet me at my locker? - B, the note read. You turned to Betty and nodded, she smiled and turned back to the front to listen to the teacher drabble on about some Romeo and Juliet project.

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10

Tokyo Ghoul’s Official Activity —MASKED PARTY.
It’s for advertising the upcoming movie.
I’m really happy and lucky that I have the chance to attend this party!!!

I can only upload 10 photos… But there’s lots of it, perhaps I will upload all of them in the future.

The party named 「東京喰種 トーキョーグール」美食家達のための晩餐会
Even though Tsukiyama won’t occur in this movie, they used the concept of Ghoul Restaurant lol

The party started at 17:30 at Tokyo (of course). We got a mask and a invitation letter to enter the party. We have to wear the mask during the party.
The invitation said, it’s sad that there is no human meat in the party lol

There’s a lot of things in the party, such as masks, foods, drinks, models. They even put the Ishida sensei’s twitter drawing! (I took all of them. I might post it later)

They served several drinks, which concepts are related to the story. And the eyeballs drink is for free lol
We need to collect three other people that have the same characters cards to get food. The food is not human meat, so our Ghouls don’t like it lolololol

The host invited 8 people to go on the stage, and luckily (or unlucky) I’m one of them. They asked me some questions but I cannot proper answers due to my poor Japanese…. But I got wrote on the newspaper, which said: a Female fan come from Taiwan lolol

After our interview, the actors suddenly showed up!!!
It’s so cool! “Kaneki” even made coffee on the stage XD

It’s a really interesting night. I’m so happy!!!

In fact there’s a lot of Tokyo Ghoul activities recently.
I even went to Antique coffee shop. I might upload the photos later.
The Antique will end on 07/31, it need to make reservations. If you’re interested please dont be afraid to ask me anything :)

Hope all the fans enjoy the photos!

Companions AU Chapter 3

Lance woke up feeling much better than before, and stretched out in his bed with a yawn. He slid out of the sheets and padded over the the closet, checking his phone along the way.

Hunkulicious:
4:27pm: Hey Lance, the surgery went great! Stop by the hospital when you can! :D

Prince Lancelot:
5:13pm: hey, just woke up, how’s he doing? I need to go buy some stuff before I drop by to bring him home :3

Hunkulicious:
5:16pm: he’s still asleep, I have him on tranquilizers until you get here so he doesn’t freak when he wakes up in an unfamiliar place with weird people. And what do you mean, bring him home?? You adopting him or smth?

Prince Lancelot:
5:17pm: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Hunkulicious:
5:18pm: LANCE

Prince Lancelot:
5:18pm: ;)

Hunkulicious:
5:19pm: you’ve been hanging around Pidge too much =_=;;

Prince Lancelot:
5:20pm: ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Laughing, Lance put his phone down and went back to pulling on a fresh change of clothes. He had some shopping to do, after all.

First stop was the clothing store. He sorted through the Hybrid section first, looking for Maine Coon clothing. He selected a few soft long sleeve shirts and hoodies, as well as sweatpants and boxers specifically tailored to a Cat Hybrid like Shiro. He figured the Cat would appreciate softer clothing than the weird purple shirt and black boxers he’d been found in.

After that he picked out some clothes for himself and paid before lugging it all to his car.

His next stop was the grocery store. If he was going to let Shiro live with him, he’d best stock up so that the starving kitty could eat as he pleased.

Once he’d gotten everything done, he hurriedly put everything away inside his house, food in the fridge and Hybrid clothes in the guest room drawers.

He texted Hunk to let him know he was on his way and stepped on the gas. His phone chimed with two new messages, one an acknowledgement from the Vet and another from Pidge saying she had something to show him at her place.

He pulled up to the hospital and jogged inside, Coran already waiting for him by the reception desk. “Room 524, Hunk’s weaning him off the tranquilizers now.” The mustached man directed, Lance nodding his gratitude and hurrying inside the elevators.

He stepped into the room, fingers crossed. Hunk was examining a chart, face pulled into a slight frown. Shiro was asleep on the bed, bandaged up and peaceful.

“Hey, Hunk. How’s he doing?” Lance asked, sliding the door shut behind him. Hunk looked up and smiled slightly.

“You look better.” The Vet commented, lowering the chart to eye his friend approvingly.

Lance chuckled. “Thanks, but I’m more interested in how Shiro’s doing.” He asked, noticing the flicker of unease in Hunk’s eyes. “Hunk? Is something wrong?” The smile dropped from Lance’s face, and blue eyes scanned worriedly over the Cat Hybrid.

“Well… Shiro was definitely abused. Badly. In fact, I think he was part of one of those underground fighting rings, Lance. He’s at least twenty seven, and he’s an Omega. But there’s no sign of any sexual abuse, so my guess is he got away before they tried anything. If he’s lived this long, he was probably one of their top fighters.” Hunk listed off grimly.

Lance frowned. “That’s… not good. Do you think they’ll come for him? His old owners?” He asked, concerned for the Cat Hybrid he’d gotten attached to in such a short time.

Hunk shook his head. “I doubt it. In fighting rings, the prime fighting age is between the years of thirteen and twenty-five. If he hadn’t escaped he’d either have been put in a Hybrid mill or killed. Poor guy… he’s been through a lot, if all the scars I saw were any indication.”

Lance moved over to brush his fingers against Shiro’s forelock. “Well, I’m definitely keeping him now. He deserves better. When I gave him a bath and some food it was like I’d hung the moon for him, Hunk. Nobody, not even a Hybrid, should go through something as terrible as a fighting ring for the amusement of others.” He growled, free hand clenching into a fist.

His fingers brushed against Shiro’s cheek, and the Cat Hybrid’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Lance quickly changed his facial expression to a kinder one, not wanting to scare the injured Cat.

“Hey kitty, feeling better?” Lance prodded carefully, relief at the soft smile and nod he got in return flooding his chest.

Checking his chart, Hunk hummed idly and scribbled something down. “I’d like him to stay one more night here to make sure he doesn’t get a fever and that his arm heals properly. Sickness caused by infection often shows up when the body relaxes and lets its guard down. It’s just a precaution.”

Lance nodded. “Hear that buddy? You need to stay here and rest for a little while, okay? I’m gonna go and run a few more errands but I will be right back. I promise.” He soothed, ruffling Shiro’s forelock affectionately, eliciting a happy purr from the Hybrid.

He pulled away and began to leave. “Hunk will take good care of you and make you feel better, okay? I’ll be back.”

As he headed to his car, he wondered what Pidge wanted to show him.

—————————-

From under a pile of rubble called writer’s block, a dusty chalk covered hand barely manages to push this chapter towards you. The writer isn’t entirely happy with it, but it’s all she’s got for now. She apologizes and hopes you enjoyed the short chapter.

anonymous asked:

Hey hi! :) For the writing prompt maybe Shidge 16? .- @quinzak

16: Things you said with no space between us

Shout out to @orcaspanielmermaids for helping me edit this tiny monster; I love you bro!

Also, warning, it’s v long. the keep reading is there so I spare others from having to scroll for so long, I swear 


Training is always close quarters, whether it be slashing and dashing away from the training sentinels or taking on a fellow Paladin. Today it was the latter for Pidge.

Shiro was a brutal opponent. Yes, she had defeated him before, but that was when he was under the influence of mind-controlling mushrooms. Now with Shiro as a true opponent, Pidge could only repeat one thing to herself as they brawled.

“Shit.”

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Hawaii Five-0 season 8 rant

I really get it that the cast members aren’t open for a season 8, or maybe see it as a last season. I mean, what Alex revealed in that exclusive interview is true. The show doesn’t lose its magic quickly, but it’s getting harder and harder to find an original plot-line and still be creative while doing it. Basically, Alex doesn’t want it to be milked out, which is absolutely understandable. Besides that, slowly the original cast is walking out to do new stuff, to develop their career the cast want to quit together, as a family. If that isn’t enough, Alex made clear the show also put a physical strain on his body. 

 But I wouldn’t want it to end at season 7, at least not as a fan. Besides that, I feel like I need some sort of closure. Does Danny retire and when? What happens after this? Is there ever going to be McDanno? The directors shouldn’t close the whole season off, with something steadfast, because the crew is always going to remain Five-0 and keep solving crimes, like they’ve been doing for 8 years. You can’t just change that.

 They don’t even have to do a whole season. Not for me.

 But just make a special episode, a somewhat ending. If I got to make one, I would do it like this.

Danny opens his restaurant (after like a year or so), which is not named Steve’s thank you very much… It’s actually more a bar/café than a restaurant. But he serves a mean steak, some (Jersey?) food and nothing too Hawaiian.

Gracie sometimes comes over and helps out.

 Five-0 hangs there often for free beers and it annoys Danny on end, but he’s secretly really glad that they’re still a family. Sometimes when they are stuck on a case, they tell Danny everything and Steve complains about his new partner.

(Just push in a scene somewhere that Danny still got them cop reflexes when taking care of some drunk pricks in his restaurant.)

And I don’t know, sometimes Danny is still a key in solving the crime and sometimes Danny still calls in the middle of missions to see if Steve doesn’t do anything too dangerous. (It makes Steve’s relationship with his new partner start off a little awkward.)

And when the murder is solved, (Steve and the new guy have a scene) and it is night, Steve calls Danny, who’s closing the restaurant and cleaning up and walking up the stairs and Steve says ‘’I’m coming over tonight.’’ He opens the door with a spare key and closes it as soft as possible. He walks up the stairs, just being tired and throwing off his gear. Danny’s sitting up in bed and Steve says something like ‘’I thought you were asleep’’ and Danny answers with something sassy. Steve just rolls his eyes fondly, giving Danny a peck and like ‘’goodnight’’ lying down next to him and turning off the lights. That is when the credits start to roll.  


It’s 2017 guys! Besides that, the directors have teased us so much with McDanno that it would be, I almost want to say weak, not to give the (majority) of the fans what they want. Besides that, we need some closure, but at the same time the reassurance that Five-0 is always gonna be a (fictional) family who keep Hawaii safe.

Nothing Like a Lawful Neutral

Context: My fighter is the only Lawful Neutral character on a team consisting of a True Neutral halfling monk, a Chaotic Neutral tiefling warlock, and a Neutral Good half-elf ranger with a bad impression of laws in general. They’re all endearingly nuts in their own way, and, well. He fits in like soy sauce on mashed potatoes.

-

Warlock: *after surviving the shipwreck that nearly killed all of us* So you worked for the people transporting us?

Fighter: Money doesn’t grow on trees. Of course I was.

Ranger: You know it was a slave ship right?

Fighter: You were getting transported to prison! The only thing enslaving you are the consequences of your crimes.

-

Monk: You not gonna like, wrangle us into line?

Fighter: Why.

Monk: I mean, you were a guard, right? You arrest people.

Fighter: We are in the middle of a jungle. What laws could you possibly be breaking?

Ranger: *OOC* I roll to see what impossible feats of physics-defying tricks I can do to piss this guy off.

-

Warlock: So are we going back to jail if we get to a place where there’s a jail?

Fighter: I mean, they feed you in most prisons. Terrible food, but it’s free.

Warlock: …Damn he right.

-

Ranger: Do you arrest people even when they’re doing the right thing?

Fighter: Everyone should be held accountable for their actions regardless of intentions.

Ranger: Easy for you to say.

Fighter: Listen, I got banished from my country and disowned from my family because I was fucking my country’s Crown Prince. I deserve the rights to say this like it was easy.

Ranger: …Okay but that’s– Okay, you couldn’t have had good intentions about that.

Fighter: I think there were some good ones, but then he took off his shirt and I forgot what they were.

Monk: And I thought my getting kicked out of my temple for fapping during prayer was dramatic.

DM: …Oh. :-)

-

Ranger: You don’t have many friends, do you?

Fighter: I had some but the murder hobos fucking killed them all. :)

-

Warlock: Well at least you aren’t lecturing us on honor or anything.

Fighter: Honor is reliability. That’d like chanting Celestial to a demon.

Warlock:

Fighter:

Warlock: …Not all tieflings.

-

Soy sauce on mashed potatoes: weird taste, but acceptable.

My Brother’s Wedding

by mrs momona © 2017

This is the first weight gain related story written by the author whose pseudonym is “mrs momona”. It was written in 2003.

A month ago, my brother got married. It was a happy event for our entire family. For me, it was a lot more. Because of my brother’s wedding, I became aware of certain things about myself.

It all started five years ago when I was a senior in high school. I had been interested in sports since I was a little kid, and in high school, I had gone out for football and baseball. At the beginning of football practice in August of my senior year I remember I was measured at 5'9" and 180 lbs.

That November, my life changed dramatically. My father was killed in a traffic accident–head-onned by a drunk driver, leaving my mom, me, and my kid brother, four years younger than me. I dropped football to get a part-time job after school. Although we weren’t poor, I knew some extra money would help out my mom as well as pay for my car expenses.

There’s a deli in town that I used to stop at sometimes after practice to buy a snack to eat on the way home. The first day I was job hunting after school, I stopped by the deli and noticed a sign in the window: “Part-Time Help Wanted”. I asked one of the employees about the sign, and I was told to talk to the owner, Mr. Jones. Mr. Jones turned out to be a big heavy guy, a little shorter than me but with a huge belly. To make a long story short, we talked for a while and he told me he’d hire me. I was told to report to work the next day after school. I’d be working afternoons, some evenings, and weekends.

The next afternoon I showed up at work and was introduced by Jim, one of the workers, to a cute girl named Amy. At first glance she seemed to be about my age, and, like I said, real attractive. She was kinda chubby, big up front and in the butt. Jim told me that Amy was the boss’s daughter and had helped at the deli since she was a little kid. She would show me the ropes.

My job orientation with Amy went well. She was also a senior in high school, but attended a private school across town from my high school. I had a hard time listening to what Amy was telling me–I kept on admiring her cute face, nice smile, and soft curves in all the right places. I guessed her to be about 5'6" tall and maybe 160 lbs of perfection.

The job responsibilities were simple–stock the shelves in the mini-mart attached to the deli, make sure the tables and chairs were clean in the small dining area, but mostly wait on customers. The deli sold a full range of cold cuts and cheeses; sandwiches made to order; chilled salads and homemade desserts; and hot items like roasted chicken and baked ziti that customers could take home for dinner. The deli was open from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m. and did a lot of business at breakfast and lunchtime with guys coming in from the nearby industrial area. Afternoon, evening, and weekend customers included a lot of people buying take-home items for dinner, snacks, or–hey, whatever, as long as they bought something!

Looking back, it was that first day on the job that really changed my life. Amy showed me how to make the deli sandwiches which were a major part of the business: take the order, slice the meats and cheeses for the filling, lavishly butter the roll or bread, pile on the filling, and add things like lettuce, tomato, onions, or other garnishes. I got the hang of it pretty fast. Jim gave me some tips about waiting on customers: if the customer is a heavy guy or lady, give them some extra filling on the sandwich, or some extra salad or dessert in the container. Don’t say anything, but make sure they know that you’re giving them a little extra–that’s how you get customers to return. When I asked Jim why to do this only with heavy customers, he laughed and said “How do you think they got heavy? They like food!”

When closing time approached, Jim showed me how to close up, lock the doors, clean everything as thoroughly as possible, and make sure everything was secure and ready for opening the next morning. He next said, “Oh, and one benefit of the job is that you can take home leftovers, or make a sandwich to go or something if you want”.

Free food! Like any healthy growing American boy I was interested. Jim explained that for cold items like salads and desserts, everything left over in the display case after two days was to be tossed at the end of the day–the selling point of the deli was freshness. Same thing with cold cuts or cheeses which had been pre-sliced to make sandwiches when there were a lot of customers. Any of these left at closing time had to be thrown out because they’d dry out by the next day and wouldn’t taste right. Same thing with the hot items and roasted chickens left in the rotisserie at closing time. The board of health required that they be thrown out and not be kept for another day.

I was shocked–throwing away all that food–and said so. Jim replied, “well, the boss says it’s all part of doing business. At the end of the day, either toss it or eat it yourself.”

“Eat it?” I replied.

Jim laughed, “Yeah, how do you think I got this ‘deli belly’?” On saying that, he jiggled the flabby pot belly sagging over his belt.

While Jim and I were talking, Amy  was busy–it turns out she was making two overstuffed roast beef and jack cheese sandwiches on rye. She wrapped them and gave them to me saying, “Here, enjoy these on the way home. Like Jim says, if you don’t eat it we’ll just toss it.” As she said this, Amy gave me a big smile. Her hand seemed to linger as she put the sandwiches in my hands–or was it just my imagination? As I munched the sandwiches on the way home–they were delicious–I remember thinking that I had lucked into a great job–pretty good pay, free food, and Amy!

The next few months went by quickly. I fell into the routine on the job, always making sure that at the end of the day there were some things to eat on the way home. I started to nibble on the job, just like I had seen all the other employees doing. I kept up my grades in school, and most importantly, I got to know Amy better. She made sure we both had the same evenings off, so we could go out. Over time, her parents began to invite me for dinner, just like my mom began to invite her over to my house for dinner, too. We got to be real close, and fell in love.

On a Saturday night in March, three months before high school graduation, Amy and I were sitting in my car after I closed up the deli. I was busy finishing off the last of my post-work snack–two overstuffed turkey and cheese deli sandwiches, a quart of potato salad, and a quart of chocolate milk. Amy and I were talking about what late movie to go to when she quietly started to cry. I asked her what was wrong and she said, “I think I’m pregnant.”

The first words out of my mouth were, “OK, let’s get married.” I still wonder why I said that–I knew I loved Amy, and we had vaguely talked about getting married one day, but we never had made any definite plans. I guess I thought of how happy my parents’ marriage had been, and I wanted the same for Amy and me. In any case, I said the right thing–Amy overwhelmed me with kisses while I was trying to finish off my last mouthful of that creamy delicious potato salad.

Much to my relief, Amy’s parents didn’t kill me when we went to talk with them. In fact, her father said to me, “You’re going to be the son I never had”. (Amy is an only child.) Our parents and we agreed that Amy and I would get married right after high school graduation in June, and that I’d start working full time in the deli. In the fall, I’d be going full time to the local junior college, majoring in culinary arts, and keep my hours at the deli while Amy stayed home and cared for our baby.

The next few months of high school kinda went by in a blur—time spent with Amy, trying to be a good son to my mom and a good “big brother” to my kid brother, studying, working 40 hours a week (at least) at the deli to make some extra money, and trying to keep in touch with “the guys” I used to play sports with.

I remember the final week of school–we had to report to the Health Room to be weighed and measured just as we had been at the beginning and end of each school year since kindergarten. I can still hear the health aide say “5'9” and then “217–let’s see, young man, you’ve put on 37 lbs since last August.” “My reaction was "whoa”, followed by “Let’s see, I have to be at work by 4:00–I just have time to stop by McD’s to get a couple of double quarters with cheese, some fries, and a shake to hold me until I can eat during my dinner break.” As you can see, my growing appetite included food from any source–not just the deli. To me, anything eaten in addition to breakfast, lunch, and dinner were “snacks” and just didn’t count as real eating.

Amy and I got married in June–just a small wedding–Amy’s folks, my mom and brother, my best buddy Joe as best man, and Amy’s best friend as bridesmaid. Looking back now, it’s interesting to recall what happened when my buddy Joe and I went to rent two dark suits for the ceremony. Joe stepped up to be measured–42 chest, 32 waist. Next came me–44 chest, 38 waist. The tailor then measured my hips and added, “just a minute, sir, you’re going to need the full-cut trousers.”

Afterwards, Joe and I stopped at BK for a little snack. I was working on my 3 whoppers with cheese, large onion rings, fries, and shake while Joe finished his BK broiler. Joe continued the snickering he had started when we were at the tailor’s. When I asked him what was up, he replied, “You know what 'full cut trousers’ means, don’t you?”

“No, what?” I said with my mouth full.

“It means you’re getting a big fat ass to match that fat belly you’ve been building up the past few months.”

I remember saying “Yeah, so what?” and thinking—yup, I’m a man now–I’m gonna have a wife soon, then we’ll have our kid, I’ve got a full time job–I don’t have time to worry about other stuff. My father had always been a “big guy”–250 or so–Amy’s dad was a real “big guy” and I just expected that men became “big guys”. I was a man now, and my weight of 217 proved it. Besides, from the time I was a little kid playing Little League baseball, I had always been kidded about the size of my butt. I was just naturally bigger back there and in my thighs than a lot of guys were–so what? That’s what helped make me a good catcher, right?

I was real busy the next two years. Amy gave birth to our son Johnny–named for my father–in October. Meanwhile, I was up at 4 a.m., at the deli from 5 to 7 a.m., at school from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., back at the deli from 5 to 8 p.m. That was weekdays. On Saturdays, I was at the deli all day (5 a.m. to 10 p.m.) I liked my classes, liked learning about food, and liked my job. Most of all, I loved Amy and our son. When days were really stressful, I knew I could look forward to going home to one of Amy’s delicious home-cooked meals (her lasagna with butter-soaked garlic bread was and is my favorite), spending some time with her and Johnny, and then enjoying one of Amy’s home baked treats with a quart of milk as a bedtime snack before collapsing into bed and getting some rest before I had to wake up at 4 a.m. the next morning. I came to rely on those dinners and bedtime snacks as stress relievers. The richer the food and the more of it I ate, the more relaxed it made me feel.

Sundays were my day off. Catching up on my nap time, spending time with my son, and helping Amy around the house were usual. Once in a while we’d get together with my buddy Joe and his girlfriend or some of our other friends from high school. Every week, we’d go to either Amy’s folks’ or to my mom’s house for Sunday dinner. Always great food which I couldn’t get enough of, even though Amy’s mom and my mom always made sure my plate was piled high with food–as soon as my plate was clean, they’d pile on the seconds, thirds, or fourths before I could say anything. Can’t let good food go to waste, right?

After two years, I graduated from junior college and went to work full time at the deli. The week after I graduated, my father-in-law invited me to lunch at this great Italian buffet in town. After we both stuffed ourselves, he broke the news to me–he wanted to retire, and in return for a monthly payment to him, the deli would belong to me and Amy. He told me that I had “proved myself” to him by my hard work and getting my degree in culinary arts while handling all my other responsibilities. I was so happy–I celebrated by stuffing myself with Italian goodies from the dessert bar, for the first time actually eating more than my father-in-law. I was so proud–proud of his faith in me and proud of myself for the man I had become.

Today, it’s been three years since I took over management of the deli. It’s hard work, but I love it. 72 hour workweeks are common, but I’ve got a great bunch of employees. I’ve got a great family, too. Amy gave birth to our second son Robbie two years ago, and that pregnancy also left her with some additional luscious pounds in all the right places. She’s so beautiful and sweet–I wouldn’t be where I am today without her.

Looking back over the past five years, I see now what was happening to me–I was just too busy to realize it or acknowledge it. From the time I got married, things would happen that should have been signals of the changes that were happening to me. I’d have a hard time pulling jeans over my thighs and ass, and finally reached the point last year where I just couldn’t squeeze into even the fullest cut jeans. Shorts and pants became difficult to fasten at the waist. If I was able to fasten them, quite often I couldn’t pull the zipper up–if I was able to, often the zipper would burst open unexpectedly. Bending over to pick something up from the floor or just going to sit down in a chair often led to seam failure from the crotch back to the waistband. Tying my shoes became a struggle. T-shirts shrank over my chest, rode up over my stomach, and the sleeves became tight over my upper arms.

Long time customers would sometimes make comments like, “Looks like business is good” or “You’re really a good advertisement for the deli”. I would just laugh and fill their order, always giving them a little extra. Once in a while, an old high school buddy would stop by and call me “big guy”. Joe, my best man, would often take a pinch at my side, stomach, chest, or rear end and say “Wow, prime grade beef”.

“Yeah”, I would sometimes think, “I’ve picked up a few pounds since high school, but heck, what do you expect? I’ve got a family and a business here. I’ve got other things to worry about.” Besides, every split seam or popped zipper would result in a new (and bigger) pair of pants or shorts for me to wear the next day. I can always count on Amy to take care of me. I guess I just felt good–solid, substantial, happy, content

My moment of truth came about three months ago. My kid brother, by now 20, was getting ready to be married and asked me to be his best man. Of course I agreed. We made arrangements to go to the tailors to be fitted for our rental tuxedos. The night he, I, and his ushers were supposed to go, I had to back out because one of my employees had called in sick that day.

I arranged to go the next night. I left work at 6 p.m., bringing  along a snack of two overstuffed roast beef sandwiches, a quart of potato salad, and a quart container of our extra creamy chocolate tapioca pudding to tide me over until I could get home and have dinner with Amy and the boys. Right before I got to the tailor shop, I realized I had dribbled chocolate pudding on my T-shirt. I took it off and pulled on an old sweatshirt that was in the backseat. Didn’t want to look like a slob.

Going inside the shop, I told the tailor who I was. There were no other customers. He took me into the fitting room. I noticed him eyeing me up and down as he brought me into the room. He told me to strip down to my underwear saying, “Sir, we’re going to have to specially alter your tux, so I’m going to need to take a complete set of measurements.” He directed me to stand on a small riser in the middle of the room. At that point, the front door chime sounded, indicating that another customer had come in. The tailor excused himself, saying he would be back in a few minutes.

I kicked off my shoes and took off my pants, folding them on a chair. I next pulled off with some effort the sweatshirt I had put on in the car. Must’ve shrunk in the wash, I guess. That left me standing in my jockey shorts. On three sides of me, the walls were all mirrors, angled so that I could see my front, both sides, and back.

My first thought when I saw myself head-to-toe in the mirrors was “WHOA!” I looked at my face. The curly brown hair on top of my head was the same as it always had been. I was amazed at what I saw from there on down. All I could see were bulges, rolls, ripples, and curves. It was like I was seeing myself for the first time, and in a way, I guess I was.

My face was round and fleshy, with chubby cheeks and a wide double chin. My neck, what I could see of it, was wide and blended into my shoulders. I was kind of comforted to see the width of my shoulders–I still had my football players build–but then  I realized that my wide shoulders merged into the flab on my plump upper arms, making me look wider.

What I saw on my chest is kind of hard to describe. From my shoulders downwards, there were two big cushions of fat, separated in the middle by a deep valley. Mounted on each of these cushions were two oval, overstuffed sacks of flab, each tipped by a stretched puffy pink nipple which pointed downwards and off to the side. These big sacks of flab started in the upper middle of my chest and then spread downwards and outwards, ending up diving under each arm as a roll of fat. “Wow”, I thought, “I have tits!” Separating my plump round upper arms from my chest on each side was a bulging triangle of flab, divided from each arm and each tit by deep creases.

Each tit sagged downwards and rested on my huge, oval pot belly. A little below the middle of the belly was a saucer-like depression in the flesh–in the middle of the saucer was my bellybutton, so deep it looked like a dark cave. I lightly pushed my index finger into this cavern, setting off ripples and quivers of my belly flab. I was surprised to see that my index finger went in all the way–at least 3 inches. As I shifted and moved to get a better look at myself, my bellybutton puckered into a slit in my flab, and then opened into a wide cave with each movement then puckered again as the flab wobbled.

The sheer mass of the fat on my belly caused it to sag and hang over the waistband of my jockeys, covering my crotch. No wonder I had become accustomed to spreading my heavy thighs wide when I sat down—it was more comfortable in that position to let the mass of my bellyfat hang downwards between my legs.

Off to each side of my pot belly were two wide round lovehandles–each so big they reminded me of truck tires. On each side, the lovehandles bulged out from below where my tit rolls pushed my upper arms outwards, separated from the tit rolls by two smaller rolls of flab on each side. The bulge of each lovehandle was pulled back in by the overstretched elastic waistband of my jockey shorts. My bulging pot belly sagged over and covered the waistband at the front of my jockeys.

Below the crotch of my jockeys I saw that my upper body was supported by two round, plump, tree-trunk-like thighs. My thighs came together between my crotch and my knees. I instantly realized why the inside upper legs of my pants and shorts were so worn out—my plump thighs rubbing together as I walked had done it.

I could still hear the tailor and the customer engaged in a lengthy discussion in the salesroom, so I continued my survey of what I had packed onto myself over the past five years.

Turning my head slightly, I looked in the mirror which was angled so I could look full on at my  back. I wasn’t surprised to see my thick neck forming a couple of rolls of fat at the top of my wide plump shoulders and upper arms. Below them were my wide fleshy deltoids, which merged into the round fat tit rolls which had started on my chest. Two fat rolls on each side creased my sides and back. Beneath them, where I once had lats, were the amazingly wide bulges of my lovehandles, almost as wide as my shoulders. So much for what used to be my “V” shaped back. There was a deep dimple in my back fat exactly in the center of my lower back.

Below the lovehandles, my jockey shorts were unable to cover the full area of my broad hips and glutes–or what used to be my glutes. What used to be my well developed muschlebutt had turned into two watermelon sized buttocks, so big and full and plump that, above the elastic of my jockeys, they bulged upwards to merge with each lovehandle. At the bottom of my jockeys, each plump cheek bulged outward and downward, forming rolls of flab where they finally merged into my thighs. My deep buttcrack was visible from above the waistband of my jockeys  and continued below the bottom of the jockeys, separating the two bulging lower buttcheeks.

At that point, I kind of lost my balance–I think I craned my head too far trying to take in the full immensity of my enormous ass–and I had to step off the riser briefly and then back on again. I was amazed by the reaction of my buttocks to this. Each buttock bobbled up and down with a life of its own, while wobbling from side to side at the same time. Beneath my jockeys, and over the wide area of my ass my jockeys couldn’t stretch to cover, I noticed the flab covering these huge melons jiggling and quivering while the bobbling and wobbling was going on. I suddenly realized why my kid brother had been calling me “Assquake” for the past couple of years. I thought he was just being a typical pesty kid brother–now I saw he was describing reality. I could imagine the show my buttcheeks put on everytime I walked (or as I now realized, waddled).

The back view of my wide hips, awesome ass, and plump thighs was fascinating, but then I glanced down at the backs of my lower legs. Being an athlete in high school, I was always proud of my big calves. Now I saw that each calf was the size of a honeydew melon, pumped up by having to support my lard. As I shifted my stance I could see the quivering of the flab covering each calf.

I still heard voices from the outer salesroom, so I next took in the view from the mirrors angled to show my sides. At this point, I shouldn’t have been surprised by anything I saw, but I was. I was shocked and at the same time thrilled to see how much I stuck out in front and in back. My belly rounded out in a bulging semicircle  more than a foot and a half before it began to curve back in to meet the waistband of my jockeys just above my crotch. Supported by the upper roundness of my pot, my searchlight-sized tits bulged roundly outwards for what seemed like six inches or so.

A glance downwards was the most impressive. Not only did my watermelon-sized buttocks sit high on my backside, starting from where my lovehandles merged into them, they ballooned much farther outwards toward the back–at least a foot and a half, I figured–before curving back in to meet my jiggling fat thighs in a series of flab rolls.

I was amazed to realize that I stuck out farther from the front of my belly bulge to the farthest back bulge of my ballooning buttocks than I did across the width of my shoulders, lovehandles, or hips. I was proud and thrilled to realize what a monument to the results of sustained overeating I had become.

At that point, the tailor came back into the fitting room. He proceeded to quickly take my measurements–neck, shoulders, arm length, chest, upper arms, belly, waist, hips/butt, thighs, and inseam. He then said he had to check stock, and would be back in a minute. I must admit I entertained myself while he was away by stepping up and down off the riser and watching my watermelons–err, buttcheeks–bobble, wobble, jiggle and quiver. What a show!

The tailor came in after a few minutes and gave me the news about my tux order: “Sir, the tuxedo shirt will be no problem–we have a 23 neck 37 arm length in stock. We also have a size 62 portly jacket in stock in the style your brother wants you to wear. For the pants, I have to ask you–do you wear your pants at your waistline or underneath your–umm, err—stomach?”


“It’s more comfortable underneath my stomach.”

“OK, in that case, we’ll take a size 66/32 pants we have in stock and start from there. You actually have a size 60 waistline, but we need the bigger size to fit your–umm, err—seat and thighs. We’ll take in the waist and they’ll fit fine. Also, we’ll triple stitch the seams of the trousers just to make sure there are no—ummm—accidents if you have to bend over.”

Stunned by the numbers the tailor was telling me, I managed to ask a few questions. “What does portly mean?”

He replied, “Sir, portly means that the jacket is cut fuller in the waist area for gentlemen who are bigger there.”

“Why can’t you just take size 60 pants and let them out rather taking such a bigger size and taking in the waist. Wouldn’t that be cheaper?” My business sense was affecting my thoughts.

The tailor blushed and paused. He seemed to be searching for the right words before he replied. “Well, sir, there wouldn’t be enough room in the size 60 pants if we let them out to the maximum in the seat and thighs. You’re just so much—err, ummm–more well-developed in those areas.” In other words, my impression from looking in the mirror was correct–my ass WAS enormous!

“Fine”, I finally said, still stunned by the numbers he gave me. I hadn’t bought clothes for myself since we were married—didn’t have time, and besides Amy took care of all that. Plus, for the past year, Amy’s mom had been making drawstring waist shorts for me to wear to work–so much more comfortable than whatever Amy could find in the store.

The tailor then told me to get dressed and come out to the cash register to sign the agreement and make a payment. I waddled over to the chair where I had placed my pants, sweatshirt, and shoes, and got dressed, slipping on the shoes last. I suddenly realized that Amy had bought me slip-on shoes two years ago when she saw me struggling to bend over to tie my lace-ups. At the time, I thought nothing of it–just Amy taking more care of me.

I took one last look in the mirrors as I walked out–I was fascinated by what I saw with my clothes on, too. Every bulge of my huge tits, upper arms, pot belly and lovehandles was emphasized by the tight sweatshirt, which, by the way, failed to cover the bottom part of my truck-tire lovehandles and bulging pot belly. I was distracted from watching the show put on by my watermelon buttocks when I noticed the wobbling, bouncing, and swaying of my pot belly and tits as I walked.

My thought as I left the tailor shop and waddled to me car, conscious that the different parts of my body all moved  with a life of their own, was “Wow, I must have put on 40 or 50 lbs or so since I got married.”

I got in the car and headed for home. My first thought was dinner—I remembered, tonight was lasagna and garlic bread. Amy always made me my own pan, with another pan to be shared by her and our sons. If I was lucky, there would be leftovers from that pan and I could have some extra lasagna to go with my bedtime snack. I was thinking that Amy had said she was going to bake some apple pies that day.

Suddenly, panic gripped me. Once Amy sees how fat I am, she’s going to put me on a diet for sure. Bye bye lasagna with  buttery garlic bread, and  a whole apple pie smeared with softened butter and washed down with a quart of whole milk as a bedtime snack.

Then it hit me! Amy knows I’m fat! She’s seen me get this big, and she didn’t say anything about it. I suddenly thought of all the special treats Amy had lovingly prepared for me, and how she always filled my plate with seconds and thirds before I even had a chance to ask for more. Of course, I had always eaten everything she put in front of me. I was excited to realize, “AMY LIKES ME FAT!” Then it hit me, too. What I had always seen as Amy’s luscious curvy body, which had grown bigger and bigger every year we were married, meant that she was fat, also. And, I loved it!

I arrived home, went inside, and greeted Amy with a big kiss. She returned the kiss, grabbing and caressing my soft lovehandles. I realized that she couldn’t get her arms all the way around me. My two sons grabbed onto my legs to get my attention. “C'mon Dad, let’s eat. We’re hungry!” said Johnny. “Yeah, starving”, said Robbie. I looked down at them and for the first time I really saw that they were two little butterballs, chubby cheeks, bulging bellies, and big butts. No wonder everyone always told me that they “took after” me. They’re fat, too. As Amy led me into the kitchen, I had a big smile on my face. I knew now what I hadn’t realized for past five years: “I’m FAT, and I love it. Plus, I have a beautiful fat wife and two fine fat kids. Life is great!”

I needed one more thing to make my self-realization complete. The next evening, on my way home from the deli, I stopped at the local UPS office where my buddy Joe was the manager. I greeted him and asked, “Hey, Joe, can I use your digital scale?”

“Sure, big guy, what do you need to weigh?” Joe replied.

“Well, actually, I want to check my weight”.

Joe smiled broadly as he led me into the back room and showed me the freight scale. I had to step onto the scale, and could feel everything bounce and wobble as I did so. I quickly thought of the last time I had been weighed, when I graduated from high school. “Let’s see, 217 plus 40, nah, let’s say 45, makes 262."  (Obviously, I was still in denial!)

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard Joe yell out, "WOW!” I quickly looked at the digital readout and did a double take. 419! Joe brought me out of my thoughts by saying “Hey, big guy, way to go” as he poked the front of my massive belly , setting off an earthquake of jiggles in the soft flab.

On the way home, the numbers 4, 1, and 9 went through my mind. I smiled to myself. “Yep”, I thought, “I am one big guy. Great going.” The rumbling of my stomach took my attention and brought me back to the important stuff. It was still about 45 minutes until dinner. I reached over to the passenger’s seat and opened the double-quart container of creamy, mayonnaise- laced potato salad I had brought with me when I left work. (I had already eaten the sandwiches on the way to Joe’s office.) Dinner time with Amy, Johnny, and Robbie was a while yet and I knew I couldn’t last that long without a little snack to tide me over.