loose overall

Alternate Bughead Car scene 2x06

“Okay. I think we’re all set here, so remember what I said about not riding the clutch, it’ll be fast but it’s still just a machine.” Betty swiped her thumb across her cheek, motor oil staining her porcelain skin as she packed the tools back into her perfectly organized tool box.

Jughead nodded sharply, his eyes still halfway across the garage set in a stone hard glare. He was tuned into her, every move she made, the sounds that spilled from her lips, he heard them all so when she sighed softly, pushing the loose strap of her overall over her shoulder, he turned slightly.

“I know you’re angry, I understand but Good luck Jughead, I’m sure I’ll see you at the race but… I figure you already have someone else to see you off.” She smiled sadly, turning to leave the garage before a familiar hand gripped her bare forearm, turning her towards him in an incredibly ungraceful twirl.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questioned, his posture was angry but his eyes were simply confused, an anxious longing buried deep in the ocean blue.

Betty wiggled her arm free

“I was at Pops this morning with Archie, well I guess I was walking past Pops, anyway I saw you and Toni and… you looked happy. I’m happy for you really. I’m happy you could find someone to make you happy in all of this crazy.” She was smiling, her “I’m Betty Cooper and everything is going to be fine” show smile.

Jughead shook his head stepping towards her as she took a step back, a game it was always a game.

“No, you’ve got it wrong. Me and Toni? She knows I still have feelings for you, I’m not going to sit here and tell you I didn’t think about it. We kissed, more than once but it was nothing. Nothing like you and me, you can’t be angry at me. You broke up with me? No I’m sorry Archie broke up with me. Remember?” Jughead growled, turning away from the beautiful blonde in front of him, why did she have to look so sad? She did this to them, she gave up on this.

It was silent for what felt like hours, just as Jughead was about to turn around and see if she had left, Betty spoke

“I’m being threatened. You’re being threatened. The black hood wants me to stay away from you, to cut ties with you and Veronica. He won’t leave me alone and I know what he’s capable of. I know you hate me and you have every reason to, I just… I never wanted to hurt you. That was never my intention, everything I did, everything I’m doing, it’s to protect the people I love. I just wanted to get you through this race, that’s all. I was going to tell you.”

Jughead whipped around, his heart shattering under the weight of the guilt he was feeling right now. She hasn’t given up on them, she hasn’t lost hope.

He had.

“Betty..” the dark haired boy choked

Betty shook her head, her arms coming up to wrap around her body

“I thought… I thought it was all going to be okay when you found out, we would be able to go back to normal, but I was stupid. You.. you kissed Toni?” Her red rimmed eyes drifted towards his matching tears shimmering in broth of the broken teens.

“Betty, I thought… I was hopeless, it was initiation… I didn’t know anything…” he reached for her, he wanted to fix this. Fix her. Fix them both.

“You didn’t even wait a day. You didn’t…” she was cut off by her own chest aching sob.

“I know.” Jughead cried, finally managing to get a hold of her, pressing his forehead to hers.”I know”

Suddenly she was melting into him, her arms wrapping around his body as she held on for dear life

“It’s okay.” She cried “it’s okay, I understand.”

They were both shaking, holding each other so tight that they stumbled onto the hood of the black Camaro next to them.

“I love you and I haven’t been there for you, I’m so sorry Betts.” Jughead sighed into her hair, vanilla and honey.

“I haven’t been there for you either, with the Serpents, the Southside. I love you, I want to make this work.” She whispered.

And In the tiny garage surrounded by nosey men covered in motor oil Romeo and Juliet found each other again.

mrmanimation  asked:

Hi yo! I've been following your work for a while now, through the reblog site of mine! I enjoy all the 2D animation. I learned about Tonko's great animation tutorials through you too, so thank you! Do you have any more advice on how to in prove 2D animation? Like any other great videos to watch, or excersizes to do? And how do you specifically work on timing? You've gotten quite good at it! Thanks! -Melissa

Hi there! Firs of all, thanks so much! So great to meet a fellow animator :) I know right, Toniko’s tutorials help me sooo much as well! His recent one on breakdowns is fantastic! As for other tutorials, I find them super rare, sadly :/ Aaron Blaise has some nice animation advice on youtube, though, and I like Andres Deja’s Blog, Deja View, that has some great observations on animation and character design. There are a few helpful things on the website Animator’s Island as well. Other than that, I think the Animator’s Survival Kit by Richard Williams and Eric Goldberg’s Character Animation Crash Course are the two books that have helped me a lot, especially the Eric Goldberg one is fantastic for people who already know the basics, which I suppose you do from looking at your beautiful work.

Timing is a pretty difficult thing and I have to admit that I still don’t like to work with charts. I rather like to plan my animations by drawing the keys, play them with the desired length(for example have the important frame be there for a second, the quick action just a quarter second etc, the next half as long etc), so that I have that rough skeleton of the animation. Then I refine it by filling in breakdowns and adjust the timing, how long each frame is supposed to be on the screen. After that, I only have to fill in the inbetweens to make it look more fluid. It feels like being a woodcarver who works from rough to detailed but never looses the overall idea of the figure, if that makes sense. 

I learned that kind of working from watching CG shot progressions like this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4xsqnQeFeE 

See how blocky the animation is at the beginning, still the timing is very well defined, and you have a feel of character and weight from the beginning. You don’t have to constantly worry about if eyerything is going to work out as you planned, because you see how it’s going to look very early. That way, you have better control over your timing. 

Please take all of this with a grain of salt; it’s simply what works best for me. There are a million ways to organize your animations, and I’m still learning myself. 

I wish you a lot of fun and inspiration, though! All the best!

3

Them.

Overalls, Paradise and Soft Kisses

Summary: Eddie and Richie find a little piece of paradise.

Read of AO3


Who knew Eddie Kaspbrak would look adorable in denim overalls? The answer is everyone. His 5'2", thin frame was complemented by loose overalls and an orange hoodie, as he lounges in the meadow. The sun adorns his freckled face, highlighting his soft cheeks and throwing glimmer into his brown eyes.

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Independent Catractor

Also over on AO3
Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8


Adrien was jolted out of his slumber by a clattering bang.  He’d launched himself out of bed before he’d fully come awake.  There was either an akuma nearby, or his dingy little apartment was being broken into.  Plagg was still tightly curled in a ball on his pillow, so he was inclined to believe it was a break in.  Lowering to a crouch, he pulled out the sawed off closet bar he’d made for this sort of thing.  Everyone had been concerned about him moving out.  He’d get mugged.  He’d get kidnapped.  He would definitely get robbed.  But since he’d quit modeling and grown out his hair a bit, no one recognized him.

Calling on his cat-like nature, which had been greatly enhanced by his being chosen to wield the power of the black cat miraculous, he crept down the hallway, his bare feet making no noise as they moved over the peeling linoleum.  The efficiency was tiny.  It was his first apartment, and probably below what he could really afford, but it suited him in many ways.  No one would look for Gabriel Agreste’s wayward son in this rathole.  He also wasn’t sure when he’d be able to work again, and living off his savings and trust fund would only take him so far.  Aiming low early made it more likely he’d be able to explore and find what he really wanted to do.

He’d gotten past the bathroom and was nearly in sight of the kitchen when there was another heart-stopping clang, followed by the low muttering of a feminine voice.  "Goddamn pithy hinges.“

Adrien peeked into the kitchen to find a slight Asian woman crouched over a spilled toolbox.  Her blue-black hair was braided and coiled into a tight bun on the top of her head.  She wore a pair of loose tan bib overalls and a black t-shirt.  It had nearly been a year, but he was still new to living on his own.  Still, it had been his experience that burglars didn’t carry more than a few lightweight tools.

"Excuse me?” he said quietly.

“Eee-ahhhhh!” she shrieked, leaping to her feet and spinning to face him.  Unfortunately, this also caused her to kick over the toolbox, spilling it further.  She winced and hopped awkwardly on one foot while still managing to keep her hands up and out, a wrench waving wildly in one of them.

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Halloween Confessions

One year, when my son and daughter were age three and five, I made them be dirty bags of garbage for Halloween. This is what happened.

It rained hard that year, and not just a little rain, no, this is Western Oregon. It was a pounding rain that could drive a small child to their knees. The kids woke up early that morning, put on their flimsy Power Ranger costumes, and rampaged through the house in a pre-sugar rush of epic proportions. Listening to the rain pounding the roof I was doubtful it would ease in time for them to go trick-or-treating. I was right.

By mid-afternoon I knew we needed to stay home and did my best to explain the situation to them in an understanding manner. All hell broke loose and overall hysteria ensued. Tears, recriminations, and begging took the place of their happy excitement. My daughter swore I would never be forgiven, and she carries her grudges with a death grip.

Finally, it became obvious neither logic nor parental authority would remedy the situation. We were going trick-or-treating. Their snow suits would keep them warm but not dry, rain coats would keep them dry but not warm. Desperate, I announced that they would be dirty bags of garbage or we weren’t going.

They refused to take off their Power Ranger costumes. So, snowsuits were placed over the costumes for warmth, then I cut and Duct taped large, heavy trash bags over the top and stuffed them with wadded up newspapers. A thick tinfoil hat pinned to their hoods acted as a final defense against the rain.

Off we went, into the raging storm, to gather candy I most certainly didn’t want them to eat.

The question everywhere we went was, “What are you two supposed to be?” My kids would mournfully reply that they were trash.    

They’re adults now, but they still remember that Halloween. I wonder if their future children will also be dirty bags of garbage.

Another year, when my daughter was seven, I made her be a pregnant farmer. This is what happened.

I’ve never been a big fan of Halloween, as I always limited the sugar intake of my children. Because I was unwilling to spend much time, money, or effort on costumes, my kids had to create their own. This task was quite often left until the last minute. My son solved the problem by wearing camouflage every year, but my daughter was far more particular.

That year, as the witching hour arrived, she still hadn’t settled on an idea and was tearing through the house in a raging panic. Her brother stood by the front door screaming at her to hurry. He was getting more frustrated by the minute. I tried to stay detached from the drama, as I wanted them to solve their own problems whenever possible.

Finally, I just couldn’t it take anymore.

I grabbed a long, patchwork skirt with an elastic waist that had made a mysterious appearance in our home, a straw hat, and a pair of rubber boots.

“You’re going to be a farmer,” I told her.

She seemed to accept the idea, but when I put the skirt on her tiny frame, it fell off and landed at her feet. It was too big. Another round of madness ensued.

Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it in the waist band. This held the skirt in place, but it left her with a huge bulge in the front.

“There,” I said. “You’re a pregnant farmer.”

“But, I don’t want to be pregnant,” she wailed.

“Well, you should have thought about that before you got yourself into this mess,” I replied.

She accepted the solution and off we went.

At that point in our lives, we were living in Holier-Than-Thou suburbia. The sight of my tiny, grumpy, pseudo-pregnant daughter waddling up and down the street gathering candy was an unusual sight to be sure.

“What are you supposed to be,” everyone asked.

“A pregnant farmer,” she cried, “but I don’t want to be pregnant.” Her expression was heartbreaking.

The sympathy she received resulted in extra-large handfuls of candy dutifully deposited into her sack. It didn’t take long before she caught on to her tragic backstory, and she quickly learned to exploit it. We had to come home twice so she could empty out her candy and return to her ruse.

And that’s the story of how my daughter was a pregnant farmer for Halloween.  

2

Dress Sword Bearing the Coat of Arms of the City of London

An English small sword, with flat tapering blade, each face with etched decoration and detail including a shield and crossed flags, the gilt metal shell guard with applied white medal, London Coat of Arms with Latin inscription ‘Domine Dirige Nos’ - 'Lord Direct Us’, the wooden swelling grip within wirework binding, the hilt and knuckle guard terminating with a pommel formed as a crow, within leather scabbard, blade 31.5 (80cm) long, 37.75 (96cm) long overall. Wirework loose, thin and sparse in sections, possibly incomplete. Leather scabbard cast metal top iss loose. When pushed back together scabbard is too short by 0.5 (1.5cm). Wear, rubbing and losses to gilt metal fittings.

A Nino Tell-Tot-Tale

For @thelastpilot (as bribery so you’d be my friendd)


“Give it back Kim!” Nino lunged again, jumping with much force as his short, stubby legs could give him without much avail. Perhaps it was a bad day to visit the park playground after all. He couldn’t comprehend how a five year old could be so much taller than him, considering they were the same age; but here he was looking helplessly as his TMNT action figure dangled far beyond his reach. 

“What’s the big deal?” Chloe huffed, standing beside Kim in a bright yellow sundress with her arms crossed. Her shorter blonde hair was wrapped up tightly in a classy ponytail, rather than loose around her shoulders like she usually had it, and she smirked happily. She should put it up like this more often. 

“It’s from a Happy Meal, you can find another one anytime.” Kim agreed, a wicked grin on his features as he began to toss the brightly colored toy between his hands. Nino watched in horror as his most prized possession flew carelessly through the air.

“No! Stop it!” They didn’t understand, and Nino was starting to get desperate. It wasn’t just any TMNT toy, it was his favorite! He had to dig through countless nuggets and apple slices, trade with bratty kids and at one point just straight up cry until he finally acquired the best TMNT member of them all, Michelangelo. In the short five years of his life, Nino has never been on a more vigorous journey for a toy.

Not to mention, they discontinued the toy series in favor or Hot Wheels for the third time this year. So no, Nino wouldn’t be able to find another one ever. 

What’s going on?” A girl with jet black hair set into a pair of twin tails walked up the the group, blue eyes wide as she spotted the commotion. 

Marinette. Nino mentally cheered, glancing over his friend in loose pink overalls and a ladybug barrette holding back overgrown bangs. She’ll help me.

None of your business.” Chloe sniffed at the same time that Nino tattled, “They took Mikey.”

Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed, looking between all of them before spotting said victim in the hands of her classmate. A small frown began to form on the young girl’s face, and she promptly placed two small fists at the side of her none existent hips.

“Guys, give him back to Nino.” 

“It’s just a dumb toy,” Chloe sneered, “Nobody invited you over here.”

“He’s not just a dumb toy!” Nino argued, stomping his foot with as much rage as he could muster. Although it was hard to take his anger seriously as his Sketchers lit up in a flurry of colors.

“Nino’s right. Mikey is his friend.” Nino couldn’t help but notice how Marinette patted the small pocket placed smack in the center of her overalls subconsciously. He hadn’t noticed before, but he could see just the top of a small stuffed toy.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to catch the protective movement.

“And what do we have here?” Before anyone could protest, Chloe’s quick fingers plucked the small toy out of Marinette’s pocket and looked over it, a disgusted frown falling upon her features. “Ew, it’s a monster!”

“Hey!” Marinette immediately tried to snatch it back, too slow however for Chloe’s fast reflexes. Nino was able to see the toy better now, a small red figure made out of what looked felt and stuffing, and was definitely homemade. 

It looked like a tiny alien, with yarn threads hanging from the head like antennae and a black button placed in the center of the forehead, right above two equally crudely made blue eyes. Nino winced slightly, but stood firm with his friend.

“Give back Mikey and- er..?”

“Tikki.” Marinette supplied.

“Tikki!” Nino finished, rolling up his longer sleeves in an attempt to look tough.

Chloe barked out a laugh, Kim only observing the situation play out with Mikey still high in his hands at this point.

“Or what?”

“Or-!”

“Chloe?” A new voice popped out of nowhere, someone that the rest of the group besides Chloe couldn’t recognize. A small boy, almost as small as Nino but not quite, with neatly tousled blonde hair and bright green eyes. 

“A-Adrien! What are you doing here?” Chloe stuttered, eyes as wide as saucers as she greeted the boy coming over. 

“Mama brought me out so I could play.” He shrugged, and Nino eyed him warily. He definitely didn’t look like he was dressed for the park. He had on a button up shirt, pleated pants and brown dress shoes. This kid looked like he just came from someplace real fancy. Nino could make out a beautiful young woman with the same shade of blonde hair from a distance, also dressed to the nines in an elegant summer dress and heels.

This boy- Adrien- looked down at himself and smiled sheepishly.

“Spur of the moment.” He offered, and the rest of the kids couldn’t help but drop their jaws in shock. Adrien even talked like a grown up. It was slightly intimidating.

While Marinette continued to stare at the newcomer, Nino set his sights back on the important matters. 

Fast as lightning, the boy snatched Tikki out of Chloe’s currently distracted and unsuspecting hands, tossing it back to Marinette without so much as a fumble. 

Well, at least from him. Seeing as Marinette wasn’t focused, Tikki managed to hit her straight in the face and knock her dramatically to the side. Nino stifled a snort, it was rude to laugh at a friend’s pain after all, no matter how hilarious it was in the moment.

“Oh! Hey are you okay?” Adrien immediately rushed to help Marinette up, brushing dirt off his pants as he picked up the barrette that flew out of her hair, knocking her bangs to cover her eyes. 

“Oh, a ladybug.” Adrien smiled, noticing the added charm and handing back the accessory as Marinette attempted to clean herself up. “I love ladybugs.”

Marinette’s voice got caught in her throat as she lifted the hair out of her eyes, sky blue meeting intense emerald as she smiled shyly back. “So do I. Tikki is one.”

“Is that what she’s supposed to be?” Chloe snorted.

“Yeah,” Marinette protested weakly, suddenly extremely self conscious as she pressed her best friend to her chest, “I made her myself.”

Adrien’s eyes grew larger, gasping in awe as he inspected Tikki with a closer look. “You made her yourself?! That’s so cool! Can you make me one?”

He looked excitedly at this new girl, potential friend, and smiled widely. Marinette was caught slightly off guard. She has literally just met this boy, never having seen him before, but already he was opening up to her like they had known each other for years. Despite the fact that they all couldn’t be older than six. 

“Uh- sure.” Marinette blanched, cheeks glowing brightly. “Do you want a ladybug too or..?”

“Can you make me a black cat?” Adrien looked so pumped up it was almost too much for Marinette to handle. She simply nodded as the boy grinned back.

“It’s great and all, this toy making business you’re starting,” Nino deadpanned, effectively ruining the budding friendship moment between the two, “but can we save Mikey now please?!” 

Adrien looked confused, before looking up at the much larger kid still currently holding the turtle themed hero.

“Hey,” He whispered to Marinette, a mischevious smile making it’s way to his face, “I’ll distract him and you can take the toy back. What do you say?”

Marinette looked in shock between this new boy, who seemed like he has been watching way too many superhero movies as of late, and her good friend, still in need. She met green eyes and nodded determinedly, tiny fists already raised and ready.

“What is this, you’re going to take us down?” Chloe mocked, unamused by this entire situation.

“Yup!” Adrien grinned, “Ladybug and Chat Noir can take anyone down!”

“Who now?” Marinette scoffed.

“Us! You’ll be Ladybug and I’ll be Chat Noir! It sounds cool right?” He looked between the action figure and the dark skinned boy beside him, “And you could be.. The Turtle! No wait- The Jade Turtle.” Nino chuckled, feeling excitement bubble in his chest. Maybe this day in the park will prove to be fun after all. 

Kim grinned, obviously reeling and ready to play along, still teasingly dangling the toy above them all with a greater gusto. A trio may have just been born, on this hot summer day in a small park in Paris, but it looked like the start of something greater.

But now, in this moment, it was something epic, heroic, miraculous.

#47 & #48-Matt the Radar Technician

“Don’t tell me” / “I miss you”

Warning: slightangstbutnotreallysothere’stheonlywarningof f l u f f f 

Words: 1.1 K +

Note: Sorry I’ve been so sucky with updates you guys! I promise this summer I’m going to try to be more up to speed. For anyone who has a request that is still pending, I haven’t forgotten about you and I’ll make sure to get everything written. Love you guys

_____________________________________________

Pulling your belt from your waist, you looked down for a second before breathing out. You had been walking down the hall from the control room when you had turned the corner and nearly face planted into Matt’s chest. Shakily, you set down the belt. The beeping on your caller going off, signaling Matt’s attempts to get you to talk to him. 

You had avoided him for the past week, ever since you broke up with him. It was last Saturday. The two of you were laying in bed. Your head was on his shoulder, and he was tracing the freckles on your shoulder when tears built up in your eyes, and you whispered the words that, you thought, would be the end. “I… I think I’m breaking up with you…” At first, you didn’t know if he had heard you or not. But then his breath hitched, and he stopped tracing your shoulder. Moving so that he was sitting up, you moved away from him. Wiping your face with your hands. Matt just stared at you. Unable to say anything. You then apologized and left, still in the shirt that you had stolen, with your hair pulled up in a lazy bun. Disheveled from the previous night’s sleep. Going back to your room, you slammed the door, nearly hyperventilating with the scene that had just transpired. 

You weren’t happy anymore. You were lost, not focusing on your work. You thought that it was because of Matt and your’s relationship, but, walking through the base, being reminded of your guys’ secret spots, where he’d steal kisses and words from you in the middle of the day. You fought the thought that you wanted him back. You wanted to show up at his corridors and apologize for leaving. 

However, you didn’t know whether or not he’d take you back. A part of you knew that he would. He always did. Every time you freaked out, everytime you told him that you were tired, that you wanted to leave, or you wanted to get away, he’d talk you out of it. He’d take you back. That’s… What scared you the most. You didn’t think you deserved it. But he would always think of you as his flower. The nickname he had given you one day when he had come back to you from a trip. He claimed that he had to go get new tools, but… He came back with a single flower. Each trip, he’d come back with more and more flowers. But that single flower, you still had. In between the pages of your favorite book.

As you bit your lip and began to unzip your clothes from your body, you tugged down the sleeves. Sighing as you walked around in your dirty socks and tank top, your overalls hanging loosely from your hips. Running your fingers through your hair and standing in the middle of the room, you found that you were as lost as ever. You hadn’t been in your own room in over a year since you had moved in with Matt. Not knowing where anything was anymore, you could still remember every little detail of Matt’s room. The way he constantly left the lights on, the drawers open, or his clothes on the floor. How he slept on top of the sheets because he’d constantly get too hot. 

Or how… How you felt as if you belonged there, with him. More than here. It was the first time that you had found yourself not afraid to commit to something. And it was with him. 

Looking around, anger built up in your stomach. Pressing your lips to your mouth, as if Matt could sense your chaos, there was a soft knock on the door. You furrowed your eyebrows, the knot in your heart pulling at the strings. While you slowly opened the door, you wiped any sign of tears from your eyes. 

Staring back at you, was the blonde. With the oversized glasses that you had made fun of, the pouty lips that you had kissed, and the thick shoulders that you had wrapped your arms around as he carried you to bed. You swallowed, shaking the memories out of your head. Matt glanced at the ground, his hands behind his back. Still, in his uniform, you wanted to smile at him and make a joke. But you just pressed your lips together and cleared your throat. 

“Hi.”

“Hey flower-” Matt stuttered over your nickname. Flower he would call you… Since you’d always complain that flowers couldn’t grow on the Starkiller base… So Matt would purposely travel to a planet that could and would pick you flowers then bring them back to you. You’d make flower crowns and he would sometimes surprise you and hide them in your books. “y/n.” He corrected himself. “Can we talk?”

“No.” You blurted out. Quieting your voice, you looked down. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Y/n-please. I-”

Inhaling sharply, you began to close the door. “Don’t tell me.” 

Shoving his hand forward, he stopped you from locking him out. Continuing. “I miss you!” Staying quiet, you let go and then walked back into your room. Matt followed you, shutting the door behind him and then striding over to you. You crossed your arms. Avoiding his eyes. “I miss you… Y/N… Please talk to me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? Why not?” He was looking for an answer to why you left. 

“Because I miss you… Too…” You sighed, throwing your arms up and letting out a small laugh. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” Matt took a step forward, lifting an eyebrow. You didn’t back away. Meeting his gaze, he leaned down. Lifting his hand to your face and wiping a tear from your cheek. “Stop trying to run away. Because I’m not going to let you.” You gave a single nod, allowing for him to wrap his arms around you. Burying your face in his chest, he rested his chin on the top of your head and gave a heavy sigh. You placed your hands around his waist, listening to his heartbeat.  “You’re my flower and you always will be.”

“Makeup Tips” Jimin BTS Fic~

Anonymous asked:  -Heyy I want to request a fic/drabble (totally up to you! I can’t really decide the length, sorry T.T) of Jimin crushing on a make-up artist so whenever he go into the waiting room to get everything done, he’ll immediately look for her/him and be very pouty if she/he is not there. But if they meet again, Jimin will be very attention-seeking by asking lots of things about make-up. It ends up with them agreeing to go out for a date someday XD (sorry if it’s too complicated/long. Thank you! <3)


A/N: YAAAS JIMINIE CRUSHING, i’m so happy for this request!! Insp based on the gif,i wanted to do a drabble but i was so immersed in trying to show cute and fluffy awkward chims that things got a little out of hand D:. Orz . Hope you like it Nonnie!! <3 I’m sorry for taking so long >3<

Genre: FLUFF
Word Count: 2259
Pairing: JiminXReader

Masterlist


Jimin was on the elevator.
First floor.
Second floor.
His heart racing as fast as ever, his hand pushing his chest back trying to control it at no avail. He had done this a thousand times, get up, dress, go to the company to get the schedule for him and the members, whine secretly, warm up a bit by dancing, dress properly for the work day ahead of him, make up, and take off. Ever since 2013 this was the typical routine for the day, with some minor exceptions. But around 3 months prior, his routine was crushed. His head was no longer his, it was no longer in control, now his heart stepped on the way every time he arrived at the Big Hit building. His routine was crushed…by you.
It happened fast and without warning, a former stylist left the makeup crew of the boys to dedicate to other goals.Immediately you arrived as the replacement, one day the other stylist was gone and you appeared. Jimin’s chest was struck by a powerful ( metaphorical ) lighting and whenever he saw you he would do anything to have something to talk with you, ANYTHING.
And so, he started to engage in conversation with you, he would ask you “tips” about makeup claiming he would probably need them for when they go to the airport or when they go out and you can’t be there to help him or the others, he would comment “Oh! That’s a nice eyeliner you got today!, ¿How you managed to do it so perfectly?” and you humbly would reply to him, thinking he had an honest intrigue about the things you asked, and he actually was, but that probably wasn’t the whole reason why he did it. He enjoyed watching as you carefully explained in detail to him what techniques he could use that would be easy to do his and others makeup in case they needed (a question of course asked by him), he was mesmerized by your hands using the tools with so much delicacy, he saw you as if you were a painter drawing over a canvas painting a masterpiece, you nose would sometimes scrunch when the lightest touch of your pencil was required. He would just stare infinitely at your when you weren’t looking, and the other members would shake him back to reality.
“Are you listening?” “Yah, brat, pay attention!” “Jimin where are our contacts…Jimin?…Jimin?? Heeellooo~?” “The mochi is out of the building”.
“Why don’t you ask her out?”

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anonymous asked:

Hi, Cathleen! I really admire your art, it's very much the level I would like to reach someday with my own work. I was wondering if you had any tips on drawing environments and architecture and all that complex, beautiful stuff? Maybe what exercises would help or?

Hello!! Architecture can seem really hard at first but once you know the process it can be a lot more simple! I did a tutorial on this exact topic, but I’m still waiting for the company to publish it. I will post it once it’s ready!

Sketch/design phase: This part mainly refers to the actual design of the architecture. First find a lot of reference of the time period/culture you’re working with. Even really wacky fantasy or sci-fi architecture has some kind of reference to a real architectural style (Lord of the Rings & Art Deco, for example). Do a lot of loose, front-facing orthographic sketches where you stylize and push the shapes and proportions of the reference. You will start to recognize repeating shapes and motifs, like for example Byzantine architecture has lots of domed roofs, very thick crown molding. Keep your lines loose and gestural. A window can just be drawn as an upside down U and don’t worry about lines being straight or clean. You just need to understand shapes and proportions. Canaletto’s preliminary sketches are a good reference for how to loosely indicate architecture. If you’re comfortable with figure drawing, it’s honestly a pretty similar process. Loose gesture for overall shape and proportion, then tasteful details like windows and doors to carve out the form. Reference is key; you wouldn’t start learning figure drawing without a model to look at, and architecture is the same.

Painting phase: If I’m painting a complex scene with architecture, I first like to do a B&w thumbnail of the scene, and then block it in in 3D. Usually the mesh will be very simple. A few cubes or cylinders for the walls, towers, etc. and then domes or triangular prisms for the roof. Mostly just for perspective and so I can get a loose idea of lighting. 3D also sometimes gives you really nice ambient occlusion reference. I also apply colored materials to some of the geometry (it usually ends up being a slight variation of a lambert shader with a local color attached). I currently use Modo for my block ins. Once I’ve got my 3D rendered, I take it back into photoshop and sketch over it until the design is working. 3D only looks stiff if you leave it that way, so make sure you’re keeping that in mind! Don’t let the 3D prevent you from making good painting decisions.

Hope this helps! Feel free to message me off anon for help :)

Summer on the Farm


by mrs momona © 2017

Mike was a pretty popular person at the small Midwestern college he attended. It wasn’t just his brown-haired, blue-eyed good looks—he was a nice guy, always willing to help out a friend.


Freshman year had been a good experience for Mike. He got good grades with a reasonable amount of studying. Although Mike had played basketball at his high school, he decided not to go out for the sport in college. Instead, he visited the weight room once in a while and played on his dorm’s intramural basketball team. He and his roomie went to parties and had an active social life.

By the end of his first year in college, the “freshman 15” had found their way onto Mike in the form of a somewhat softer stomach and a butt with some jiggle to it. At an even 6'0" and a weight of 185, Mike was still able that May to squeeze into the size 31 pants he wore when he weighed 170 the previous August.

Mike went home that summer and worked part-time at the family business. He also volunteered to help coach the local youth basketball league. He got together with his old high school buddies and had a great time.


By the first of September, Mike was ready to start his sophomore year. He checked into the dorm and met his new roommate, a freshman named Charlie. Mike and Charlie hit it off right away. Turns out Charlie had grown up on a farm downstate and was at college to major in Agriculture. They had a lot in common–both were serious students, both liked physical activity (Mike in intramural basketball and Charlie in the weight room), both liked women, and both liked to eat.


Mike noticed right away that Charlie enjoyed the dining hall. The policy was “eat all you want” and Charlie took that policy to heart from the first day. Mike always thought he had a big appetite–he often went for seconds if he liked the main dish—but he noticed right away that Charlie had seconds and thirds of EVERY dish at EVERY meal.


Seeing how much Charlie could pack away at mealtimes, Mike was curious about Charlie’s weight. Charlie was about Mike’s height but hefty all over–just a big guy. The next time Charlie said he was going to the gym for a workout, Mike offered to go along. In the locker room, Mike made a point of weighing himself–189–and Charlie next stepped up to the scale. Mike wasn’t surprised to see the numbers rest at 255.

At Christmas, Mike invited Charlie to visit his family, but Charlie had to go home to help out on the farm. Same thing at spring break. By this time, Mike knew more about Charlie’s family and the farm.


Charlie grew up on a farm owned and run by his grandparents. Charlie’s parents had died in an accident when he was young, and his grandparents raised him. Even though his uncle and aunt owned the next farm over and helped out, Charlie was needed at home during school vacations since his grandfather was getting older.

Mike couldn’t help but notice that after Christmas vacation and spring break, Charlie returned to campus a little heftier, and Mike himself enjoyed the “care packages” of home-baked goodies that Charlie’s grandmother sent to both of them. As she wrote in a note to Mike, “Charlie tells us you’re such a nice boy we already think of you as part of the family.”

At the beginning of May, Charlie offered Mike the chance to spend summer vacation on the farm. The hired man who his grandparents counted on “just up and quit”. In return for room and board, Mike would stay on the farm from mid-May until Labor Day, helping Charlie and his grandfather with the chores and all the projects which had to be completed during the good weather of summer.

Mike thought about it, and quickly agreed. It sounded like a great experience, and he really didn’t have anything special planned for the summer anyway. Mike felt good that he would be able to help out, especially since Charlie’s grandparents had been so nice to him with the “care packages” and everything.
He called his parents and they agreed that it would be a good experience for their 20-year-old son. Apart from a day-long field trip when he was in elementary school, Mike had never even been to a working farm, and the thought of healthy outdoor living looked pretty good to him.

Also, some hard physical work seemed pretty good to Mike too. The last time he and Charlie had gone to the weight room, at the beginning of May, the numbers were up to 200 for Mike and 265 for Charlie. Mike didn’t feel fat or anything–after all, he had been the star player on the dorm intramural basketball team that year–he was just concerned to keep in halfway decent shape.

Mike and Charlie arrived on the farm one sunny Sunday afternoon in mid-May. Charlie’s grandparents took to Mike immediately, and insisted from the first that he call them Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma smothered Mike in a big hug the minute he walked in the door, and Grandpa greeted him with a warm handshake and a pat on the back. Grandma was a stout, rosy-cheeked lady just as wide as she was tall, and Grandpa too, was big–a huge belly strained the front of his work shirt and poured over the belt of his workpants. Mike was shown his bedroom at the back of the house–the spare room, Grandma called it, but it was comfortable and had its own bathroom.


By 10 o'clock that evening, Mike was in bed—Grandma told him that wake up time would be 4:30 a.m. As he snuggled under the covers, he thought back to the events of the day. Charlie and Grandpa had shown him around the farm–a herd of dairy cows, some pigs and chickens, , more than two hundred acres of corn, sorghum, and soybeans, a very large vegetable garden, and some fruit trees. They talked about the projects which needed to be done that summer–installing new fences, putting in a new septic system for the house and a new “environment friendly” system to take care of waste from the animals—lots of digging, then Charlie and Grandpa showed him how to slop the hogs and milk the cows and feed them. They then got cleaned up for dinner.

Mike’s first dinner on the farm was something he would always remember. A heaping platter of two-inch-thick fried pork chops; huge bowls of pork stuffing, mashed potatoes, and buttered corn; and a creamy green bean casserole (the old fashioned kind with french fried onion rings on top.) In addition, a large bowl of steaming hot gravy, two huge loaves of hot fresh bread, and a large bowl of butter crowded the table. After grace, Grandma suddenly mentioned that she had forgotten the salad–Mike thought she’d bring in some kind of chef salad thing–instead, it was a jello mold topped with piles of whipped cream.

Mike couldn’t help but notice that Charlie dug right in and ate like there was no tomorrow, but then, Grandma and Grandpa did too. Mike observed that Charlie helped himself to a huge mound of mashed potatoes, put a large hunk of butter on top, and then poured on the gravy after the butter had melted. The food all smelled so good. Mike didn’t want to make a pig of himself, so he decided to take the lead from Charlie. Mike himself, for the first time in his life, had thirds–not that he took the third helpings himself, but Grandma refilled his plate after he finished his seconds and he didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so he just kept on eating.

Mike noticed that when all the pork chops had been eaten, Charlie made “butter sandwiches”–two thick slices of bread with a quarter-inch-thick layer of butter as filling, and used them to sop up the rich gravy remaining on his plate. Mike decided to do the same and was amazed at how good they tasted. Charlie, with Mike following his lead, finished up the gravy in the bowl by pouring it over a couple more butter sandwiches and shoveling them in. Grandma brought out two pies for dessert–cherry and apple. Mike, by now stuffed, asked for a small piece of each. Grandma cut him a quarter of each pie, and before giving the dish to him added a large scoop of ice cream to the top of the pieces. Charlie, Grandpa, and Grandpa finished off the rest of the pies themselves.

Mike was so stuffed that evening that he had to lie in bed on his back–it was too uncomfortable for him to lie on his stomach or on his side.

The next morning, Charlie awakened Mike. It was 4:30 a.m. and Mike could hear the roosters crowing. Charlie gave Mike a pair of “farmer johns”–bib overalls to wear with a T-shirt. Charlie told Mike that he had outgrown the overalls last year but they should fit Mike “for a while”.

When Mike came in to breakfast, Grandma told him that he looked like a real farmer. Even though the overalls were loose on him, he came to appreciate their comfort during the day as he worked–and work he did. That day’s task, and the task for the next couple of weeks, was digging post holes for a new fence, and by the end of the day, Mike was sore all over. As a matter of fact, he used muscles he didn’t even know he had.

By dinner, Mike was starving, despite an enormous breakfast (eggs, bacon, sausage, fried bread, homemade cinnamon rolls, and a big bowl of oatmeal served with a lump of butter on top and sugar and heavy cream, all this washed down with a large glass of whole milk) and an equally large lunch (stacks of sandwiches–pot roast, ham, or cheese, oozing butter and mayonnaise, with big bowls of german potato salad and coleslaw on the side, and pie for dessert–again with glasses of cold whole milk). There were also mid-morning and mid-afternoon snacks (ice tea and cold milk, accompanied by hot-from-the-oven home baked cookies in the morning and PBJ sandwiches in the afternoon).

Dinner was a repeat of the night before, except this time the main dish was fried chicken accompanied by a large casserole of cheesy au gratin potatoes. Mike was so tired from his hard work, he had to fight to stay awake during dinner–the only thing that kept him awake was his hunger. He had never worked so hard in his life, and even third helpings weren’t enough to fully satisfy him.

Knowing that he had more post hole digging ahead of him the next day, and barely able to stay awake, Mike excused himself early to go to bed. Just as he was ready to hop between the covers, he heard a knock on the door. It was Grandma, carrying a tray. “Mike”, she said, “we always have a bedtime snack and I made these specially for you. I saw on a TV show once that these were Elvis’s favorite sandwiches, and they’re just so good we love them. I know you’ll like them too.”

Grandma set the tray down, and Mike saw that there was a plate holding two fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, soaked with butter from the frying pan and still hot. A glass of cold milk was on the tray too. Mike didn’t want to hurt Grandma’s feelings after all the trouble she had gone to, so he ate the sandwiches and drank the milk while Grandma stood by smiling.

“What do you think, Mike?” asked Grandma.

“Grandma”, Mike truthfully replied, “those are the best sandwiches I EVER ate.” Mike couldn’t help but belch as he spoke–he tried to stifle it, but Grandma just smiled. And so, for the rest of the summer, fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and cold milk before bedtime became a nightly ritual for Mike.

As Mike finally drifted off to sleep, topped off by the sandwiches and milk, he considered that he must have burned up 10,000 calories that day–a much better workout than he could ever get at the gym back at college. Of course, if Mike had stayed awake a while longer, he may have realized that at the same time he was burning off all those calories, he was consuming at least 13,000 calories of good country cooking. But who was counting?

That first day of hard work and big eating became the norm for the rest of the summer for Mike. By the first weekend, Mike felt like he had been heavy lifting in the gym every day. He could feel that his arms and pecs, even his delts, lats, quads, and glutes, were pumped up and swollen from his hard work.

At the same time, he noticed some growth in other areas, too. On Saturday night, Mike, along with Grandma, Grandpa, and Charlie, were invited to a family get-together to celebrate the graduation from high school of Charlie’s cousin Sue. Charlie told Mike that a polo shirt, dockers, and dress shoes would be good enough to wear. The problem came with the shirt–the size L polo Mike brought with him was way too tight, so he borrowed one of Charlie’s old XL shirts.
Same thing with the pants—Mike had to struggle to fasten the 34" waist of the dockers he had brought with him, and when he finally did fasten the button, he discovered he just couldn’t pull up the zipper, no matter how hard he tried. Charlie came to the rescue with a pair of dockers he had outgrown a couple of years before (“Grandma doesn’t believe in throwing anything away”, said Charlie). Mike checked the label: 38 waist/33 length and thought they’d be too big.

To his surprise he found they just fit over his hips and thighs. After he buckled his belt, he noticed that the pants sagged a little in front, under a small mound of flesh on his stomach he hadn’t noticed before. Charlie then came in to check how the pants fit–he was carrying a bigger size, just in case. He noticed Mike’s little beginner belly and patted it, commenting, “Starting to build a table muscle, huh?”. Mike laughed and swatted at Charlie’s thick midsection.

The party was held in the social hall of the Lutheran church in the nearby small town, and Mike met all of Charlie’s large extended family.

They all greeted him like he was a long-lost relative. Charlie could see the family resemblance in most of them–not in hair color or anything, but in size. It seemed that no one there was thin–the men ranged from hefty to fat, the women from plump to stout, and the kids from chubby to husky. Every so often, Mike was introduced to a relative who was hugely obese. During the week, Grandpa had been teaching Mike about the need for a farmer to observe everything around him in the natural environment, and so Mike was fascinated by all the fat people he met, and as Grandpa would have said, how they “wear their weight”.

He had never before seen so many overweight and fat people together at the same time–guys like Charlie, who just seemed to be big all over; some middle-age guys who were well proportioned in their fat–big chest, big belly, big rump; and some guys of all ages with big upper bodies and big sagging bellies with relatively thin legs and no butts at all. The women and teenage girls were the same. Even the teenage guys, while obviously showing off how buff they were, sported chubby cheeks, the start of double chins, and budding lovehandles as indicators of the heft to come.

All Charlie’s relatives impressed Mike with their sincere friendliness to him. Also, the spread of food was something to behold–every woman there had prepared her specialties, and tables running down the whole side of the hall groaned under the load of platters, casseroles, pie plates and cake servers. It seemed like every ten minutes, an aunt, cousin, or other relative approached Mike with a plate filled with goodies. Mike didn’t want to hurt the feelings of any of these nice people, so he just dug in with a smile on his face.

Mike’s attention, though, was soon focused on Charlie’s cousin Sue, the girl who the party was in honor of. Mike had dated a number of girls in high school and during his two years in college, but, to put it bluntly, he had never before met a girl built like Sue. She had to be 42DD! There was more to her, of course–a cute face with rosy chubby cheeks, long blond hair, a waist relatively thin (compared to her chest, anyway) and hips that sexily flared outward. Sue seemed to be equally attracted to Mike. She invited him to Sunday dinner with her family the next day after church (she and her parents lived on the next farm over from Grandma and Grandpa).

Actually, the whole family–Grandma, Grandpa, Charlie, and Mike–went to dinner the next day. It went well, Mike thought. Sue’s father commented that he had heard that Mike was “a real hard worker–for a city boy”. Mike blushed and said he was trying–which seemed to be the right answer. As Sue’s mom called them in to dinner, she said that she heard that Mike had “a real healthy appetite–for a city boy”, and everyone laughed when Mike replied “I’m trying to improve that, too”.

Sue’s mom had a spread on the table that was equal to one of Grandma’s feasts, and everyone dug in. Sue sat to the right of Mike, and made sure that she refilled his plate as soon as he seemed about to clean it. While they were eating, Sue’s left hand found Mike’s right leg under the table–and she checked out Mike’s bulging quads and his package. Mike enjoyed every minute of it, but kept shoveling in the food since he didn’t want anyone to notice what Sue was doing.

The main dish was roast loin of pork. Sue’s father, who was carving, served Mike two huge slabs. Mike poured the rich pork gravy onto the meat and soon polished it off–it was so good. Sue’s father served him more slices of the succulent roast–again, Mike demolished it all. Mike again followed Charlie’s lead by using butter sandwiches–this time made from dinner rolls—to sop up all the gravy and melted butter from his plate when there was no other food left on the table.

Sue’s father said, “Mike, I’m impressed. You’ve got a real country appetite. Why, you even ate all the fat on the pork–I didn’t think city people did that!”
Everyone at the table laughed. Mike blushed but felt proud as he realized how much he had eaten. Sue’s mom added, “It’s a real complement to the cook when a guest eats big, Mike. Thanks!”

Mike had a big smile on his face.

After dinner, the men went into the living room to watch ESPN and “let dinner settle” while the women cleaned up. Mike noticed that Grandpa, Sue’s dad, and Charlie all unbuckled their belts and undid the waist buttons of their pants, accompanied by sighs of relief as their stuffed bellies found some room to expand. Mike wasn’t sure if he should do this or not, but the pressure of his overstuffed belly got to be too much and Mike unbuckled his belt and opened the waist of his dockers. Relief!

Mike didn’t think that anyone had seen him, but then he heard Grandpa and Sue’s dad chuckle. As Mike blushed and reached to button up, Sue’s dad said, “Mike, don’t be embarrassed to let your belly out. Eating big is one of the pleasures of life. A pot belly is proof that you’re living good and that you have a good woman to take care of you.”

A few minutes later, Sue appeared and invited Mike to go for a walk around the farm. Although still full from dinner, Mike didn’t want to pass up this chance. They ended up sitting under a tree on top of a hill which overlooked the whole area. Sue talked about her plans—she was going to attend State U in the fall and major in Home Economics—,and Mike shared his. One thing led to another, and Mike discovered to his pleasure that Sue loved caressing his body as much as he loved exploring hers. Sue stopped things by murmuring “not on the first time” as Mike unbuttoned his pants and unzipped, all set to enter her. After a while, they returned to Sue’s house–just in time for Mike to go home with Grandma and Grandpa and Charlie (“the cows don’t wait for anyone”, Grandma said).

By the end of June, life had taken on a rhythm for Mike. Hard physical work six days a week, with chores on Sunday. After the fence was completed, the new septic system needed to be dug in–in addition to all the regular chores. Huge home cooked meals with mid-morning, mid-afternoon, and before bedtime snacks (by now, every night Grandma was making Mike three fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches, which Mike was wolfing down with ease). He learned a lot from Grandma and Grandpa about nature–observing the weather, caring for the animals, and the simple pleasures of life.

Mike and Sue got together four or five times a week, and Mike discovered that there are plenty of places on a farm for some privacy. Sue was the hottest girl he had ever known, and he was attracted to her sweet personality in addition to her awesome body. He was pleased too that Sue was so attracted to him and his body–pleased, and aroused. He had never before been with a girl who was so aroused, and so aroused him, by the ways she used her fingers and tongue.

By the end of June, Mike had to ask Charlie if he had a bigger pair of overalls he could use–Mike just couldn’t button the side buttons any longer and they were super tight in the seat. Same thing with pants. Mike and Sue and Charlie and his new girlfriend always went out on Saturday night, usually to the mall at the county seat to go bowling or to the movies, followed by a stop at the big deal in the county–a pizzeria. Mike was now filling out a pair of size 40 dockers, and he had had to borrow some XXL button-front shirts from Charlie–the XL shirts which fit the month before were now too tight for comfort.

July continued the same way. By the end of the month, Mike’s latest pair of borrowed overalls were so tight around the hips that the front zipper actually blew out (“First time I ever saw that happen on a pair of farmer johns”, was Grandma’s comment as she brought Mike his four fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and glass of milk that evening before bed.)

The next morning bright and early, Mike and Grandma went into town to go to Sears–after all, Mike did need to have some comfortable work clothes since he was going to be on the farm for another month, and the overalls which had given up the fight the day before were a pair of the same size Charlie wore every day, so Mike obviously needed a bigger size.

At the work clothes section of Sears, Mike went straight to the fitting room. Grandma had given him a safety pin to keep the fly of the overalls closed, but Mike didn’t want to risk another zipper failure in public, so he waited while Grandma and the salesman (who seemed to be an old acquaintance of Grandma’s–but then everyone in town was) went searching for some overalls for Mike to try on.

Mike was waiting in the stall of the fitting room with the door closed. He could hear Grandma and the elderly salesman engaged in conversation as they came close.

“I hope one of these pair fits, Mae (Grandma’s first name). I’ve never seen a man so young with such huge hindquarters, and the big belly he’s carrying is going to make it even harder to fit. You know, they don’t make full cut overalls, so we’re just going to have to keep on having him try on different brands and different sizes until we find something that will do…”

Gradnma cut him off with the remark, “Well, he’s just a growing boy and he’s been a big, big help to us this summer. We’ll find something.”

Mike tried on the overalls which Grandma gave him and finally did find a pair that was comfortable. He passed them out the door to Grandma. At the cash register, Mike noticed that Grandma was buying two pairs of overalls. When Mike said he only really needed one pair, Grandma said, “the extra pair is the next size up, just in case you need some growing room.”

Mike went back into the fitting room and put on the new overalls. He didn’t even think to look at the size label–he was just thinking that he needed to get back to the farm as soon as possible. Charlie and he were supposed to bail hay that day and the job had to be completed before the weather turned rainy.

As Mike and Grandma walked out of the store, Grandma spoke briefly to every sales person–it seemed like the way to the exit was lined with people. Grandma, kind soul that she was, had a word for everyone and introduced Mike. Mike kinda wondered why so many salespeople were in that area of the store at 9:00 on a Tuesday morning, but instead just concentrated on being polite so he could just get out of there and get back to his job on the farm. What he didn’t know was that word had spread and the staff all wanted to get a look at “the amazing young man with the huge hindquarters and big belly”.

A week later, Mike, Sue, Charlie, and Charlie’s girlfriend were on their way home after their usual Saturday night date, having eaten in the pizzeria after an evening of bowling. After dropping off Charlie’s girlfriend and then Sue, Mike went to get back into the car when he burst the rear seam of the size 42 dockers he had borrowed from Charlie that he was wearing. Mike had noticed all evening that the pants were uncomfortably tight. When Charlie realized what happened, he started laughing and said “from now on Mike, you’re on your own. I can still get my big butt into size 42’s–you’re gonna have to get size 44’s.”

The next day, Mike and Sue went to Sears after church. Some of the salespeople recognized him from his visit with Grandma the week before and greeted him with big smiles. Sue took charge of the shopping and quickly found a pair of size 44 full cut dockers. She actually went into the fitting room with Mike. They found that the pants were a little loose in the waist–they fastened below Mike’s “table muscle” but were tight in the seat. Sue said that was OK, she could let them out at home. While she was saying that, she was busy massaging Mike’s butt cheeks. Mike was not really listening to what Sue was saying–he just wanted to get out of the store so he and Sue could have some “private time”.

Mike and Sue really enjoyed their “private times”. Sue couldn’t get enough of caressing and admiring Mike’s huge pecs and growing glutes. The big dome of flab that now sat on Mike’s stomach specially seemed to fascinate Sue as she tongued and caressed the cavern Mike’s bellybutton had sunken into. Sue especially loved fingering the complex pattern of stretchmarks which adorned Mike’s bloated physique. Mike too had come to know every curve, roll, and crevice on Sue’s amazing body. Sex with Sue had become the best part of the summer for Mike, even better than Grandma’s awesome cooking.

By the end of August, a visitor to the farm would not have been able to tell that Mike was really a “city boy”. His bulging muscular arms, pecs, hips, and thighs were proof of his capacity for a hard days work. The thick layer of lard which covered Mike’s torso was proof that he could really eat  like a country boy, too. He had really developed a preference for anything fried, preferably in lots of butter, and he loved good country cooking, everything swimming in butter and gravy, with every meal finished with homemade pie or cake, topped with rich homemade ice cream.

Mike had always considered his mom to be a good cook–and she was. Broiled fish and meat, steamed vegetables and deserts based on fresh fruit were her specialties. Mike always thought his mom’s food was delicious–but by the end of the summer on the farm, Mike had developed a new definition for delicious. He would have been hard pressed to pick any favorite dishes from the many which grandma made, but he did have some favorites.

Even a simple thing like meatloaf was awesome the way Grandma made it. Grandma always made six meatloaves at a time–Mike particularly liked it the next day, when Grandma sliced the leftover meatloaves and fried the slices in butter. She always accompanied this with “home fries”–slices of potato and onions fried in butter until piping hot and tender, just perfect with the tomato/cream sauce which he poured over the meatloaf. Grandma’s desserts were awesome, too. She specialized in pies—all kinds of fruit pies, rich custard pies, chocolate cream pie smothered in whipped cream–and the list went on. Mike loved it all.

The day after Labor Day, Mike and Charlie had to pack up the car to return to the dorm. Mike and Grandma and Grandpa exchanged a tearful farewell, and Mike, of course, promised to keep in touch. After all, he was “part of the family” now.

Mike and Sue had said their farewells the night before after the hottest lovemaking session they ever had. State U was quite a distance from Mike’s college, but they promised to see each other as often as they could. Mike returned home after the farewell with Sue, and demolished his final bedtime snack–five fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches and two glasses of milk.
Grandma had packed a lunch for Charlie and Mike to eat on the trip back to college. They took turns driving and eating the dozen pieces of cold fried chicken, dozen cold fried pork chops, two dozen butter sandwiches, and two dozen large chocolate chip cookies in the package. It was Charlie’s turn to drive first while Mike tore into the food–finally, Charlie had to say to Mike, “Hey, save some for me!” Mike just smiled and let out a long, satisfied belch.

Mike attracted a lot of puzzled attention as he walked into the dorm. A number of his old dorm mates appeared stunned as he walked down the hall, greeting everyone. Who was this big fat stranger who seemed to know everyone? Finally Mike was identfied when people recognized his voice. After settling into their room, Mike and Charlie went down to dinner at the cafeteria. Mike attracted even more attention with his stupendous appetite. He was putting away his fifth serving of the main dish (chicken parm) when the caf closed (Charlie was only working on his third helping).

After returning to their room, Mike quickly fell asleep. It had been a long day.

Very early the next morning, before the cafeteria opened for breakfast, Mike and Charlie headed to the gym to reactivate their activity cards (classes didn’t begin for another two days). Mike wore a T-shirt he had worn during the summer and was now kind of tight, but  he had to search to find some pants or shorts to wear. He couldn’t very well wear his farmer johns on campus (he had grown into the bigger size that Grandma had bought him that day at Sears), and his latest pair of size 46 full cut dockers needed to be washed–and were already kinda snug in the seat, anyway. Charlie finally lent Mike a pair of sweatpants that Charlie said were too big for him. To Mike’s surprise, and Charlie’s amusement, they fit Mike like spandex. Off to the gym!

Bob, the student aide working at the gym, was an old friend of Mike’s. Charlie went over to say hello to some of his buddies, giving Mike and Bob a chance to talk. Bob seemed confused at first when Mike came up to him. Who was this guy who seemed to know him? Bob quickly realized who this big fat dude was Mike when he recognized his old friend’s voice.

“Hey Mike, what the hell happened to you this summer?” asked Bob.

“Whaddya mean?” was Mike’s response.

“You’re fuckin’ huge, buddy”, exclaimed Bob.

Mike flexed his biceps and made the thick layer of fat covering his pecs jump and jiggle his pecs jump as he replied proudly, “Yeah, I was working on Charlie’s family’s farm all summer and I got a better workout than anything at the gym”.

Bob then asked, “Have you got on the scale lately? Yeah, your chest and arms and even your quads are a lot bigger, but I gotta tell ya, Mike, it looks like you have a beach ball stuck onto your stomach and two beach balls glued onto your rear end. You’re right that your muscles are a lot bigger, but you don’t have any definition at all. Looks like ya got a pretty thick layer of flab on top of all that new muscle. You’re fuckin’ enormous.”

Mike smiled and replied, “Yeah, I guess I have filled out”. What else could he say? Bob was his friend and just being honest. Mike suddenly felt so proud of his new heft that he flexed his right arm while flexing his “table muscle” at the same time, forcing his big pot belly to jiggle as it stuck out even further.

Bob grinned, patted Mike’s belly, and said, “Way to go, Mike!”

At this point, Charlie reappeared and he and Mike headed to the locker room where the scale was located. Charlie stepped on first, and smiled when the scale read 275. Mike hopped on next, and was kinda surprised as the scale shuddered in response. When the number 319 appeared, Mike was so surprised he stepped off the scale, then stepped back on again, thinking the first reading was wrong. The scale again read 319.

Charlie grinned and said, “You’re a real farm buy now, Mike” as he swatted Mike’s big bulky butt. Mike smiled proudly.

Charlie said he had to use the restroom, and Mike ambled out to Bob’s desk to wait for him.

“So what’s the news?” Bob asked.

Mike smiled, again flexed, and proudly replied, “319”. Knowing the Bob was a phys ed major, Mike continued, “I put on almost 120 pounds of muscle this summer. Ever hear of anyone else bulking up that fast?”

“Fuckin’ amazing”, Bob replied. “You must have been doing some serious eating in addition to all that hard work.”

Mike just grinned and got a faraway look in eyes. His mouth started to water…
Just then Charlie rejoined Mike. Mike turned to him and said, “Let’s see if the snack bar is open. I don’t think the caf opens for another hour yet, and I’m starving–I need something to hold me until breakfast.” Mike turned to Bob and said, “See ya soon–I’ll be at the gym at lot more this year, making sure I keep this new muscle.”

“See ya, guys”, replied Bob.

Bob’s attention was riveted on Mike and Charlie as they turned and walked across the gym toward the door. There was a gap between the bottom of Mike’s tight T-shirt and the top of his overstretched sweatpants, enough for Bob to get a good view of Mike’s huge soft lovehandles, newly widened hips and enormous butt-cheeks, including a good six inches of the top of Mike’s butt-crack. As Bob stared, the thought came to his mind that it looked like there were two bear cubs fighting inside Mike’s excruciatingly overstretched sweatpants as he waddled along.

Junior year went by quickly for Mike. Because of his experience on the farm, he decided to major in agricultural economics and liked his classes. He was able to go to the weight room a lot more, and was able to keep some of the muscle size he had developed during the summer. He went out for intramural basketball again, and although his huge butt warmed the bench mostly all of the season, he concentrated on helping the newer guys on the team with technique.

His appetite did decrease somewhat–from stupendous to merely huge. He was content with thirds in the cafeteria, he guessed because he wasn’t working as hard as he had during the summer. Besides, the caf food just didn’t taste like farm cooking. Even the butter tasted different–it was crap compared to the sweet home-churned butter Mike was used to from the farm. Even the fast food places around campus didn’t really satisfy Mike anymore–he just missed Grandma’s good country cooking.

Mike visited his family during Thanksgiving. They didn’t have any comments about his increase in size–after all, although they had been born in the city, both his parents were descended from farm people themselves. Mike and Sue managed to see each other twice a month, and at Christmas, Mike spent one week with his folks and one week with Grandma and Grandpa–and of course, Sue and her family. Mike was in heaven for that week as Grandma made all his favorites.

During Spring break, Mike and Sue announced their engagement. They planned to marry after Mike got his degree the following year. Grandma and Sue both continued to send Mike care packages—rich homemade cookies and other goodies arrived regularly to remind Mike of that good farm cooking. By mid-May, when Mike and Charlie went to the gym for their ritual of hopping on the scale, Charlie was at 285 at Mike at 333.

That summer, Mike had an internship at college and so stayed on campus. He was able to spend a week at home and a week on the farm, and Sue visited him every weekend.

Senior year, Mike had a job as resident assistant at the dorm. That meant he had his own apartment at the dorm, complete with kitchenette, in addition to meal privileges in the caf. Mike made good use of the kitchenette and got back into the habit of fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches with cold milk as a bedtime snack. He also called Grandma often for advice about how to fix some of his favorites, like home fries. They turned out pretty good–Charlie thought so, too–but they still didn’t taste like Grandma’s cooking.

Mike was well-liked by the underclassmen in the dorm–they all called him “Big Mike”, and although he didn’t know it, he became somewhat of a legend among them as the “basketball dude” who had gone beyond doubling his weight since he was a freshman. His senior classmates verified to the awestruck freshmen that Mike had indeed weighed 170 at the start of his freshman year, and Charlie confirmed that Mike weighed 344 when the dorm opened on September 1st.
All the dorm residents watched in amazement as Mike went around the dorm while on duty. You couldn’t say he walked around the dorm–rather he gracefully moved in a combination of proud strut and waddle, preceded by his big bouncing belly and followed by his big round bouncing balloon butt. He made frequent stops at his apartment to pick up a snack while on duty, and it was a usual sight to see Mike nibbling on some butter sandwiches, or a dozen or so homemade cookies while he “made his rounds”.

Because of his popularity, Mike was chosen player-manager for the dorm intramural basketball team that year. He put himself in at least once every game, sometimes even scoring some points. The opposing team, not to mention the spectators and Mike’s own teammates, were awestruck at the sight of “Big Mike” bounding down the court, big fat pecs flopping, big pot belly bouncing, and huge round balloon buns bobbing, wobbling and jiggling.

Mike was actually able to run up and down the court a few times before getting winded. Mike’s run was more like a fast waddle, but action on the court slowed down as the other players watched Mike hustle his fat ass. He always got a big hand from the spectators as he returned to the bench. At the final intramural game, Mike’s tight 5XL basketball shorts split up the back as he went back to the bench to sit down. Mike laughed and tucked a towel into the back waistband of his shorts for the rest of the game. Mike didn’t want just anyone to have a view of his big round buns–that was a privilege reserved for Sue.

Mike didn’t know it, but the freshmen in the dorm, after observing Mike’s eating habits in the caf and his never-ending supply of snacks from his kitchenette, organized a pool to see how much weight “Big Mike” would put on before graduation. The highest guess was that Mike would weigh 349, and it turned out that freshman who picked that weight was the winner, although he came nowhere near the actual number. Charlie confirmed one day in the middle of May that Mike had weighed in at an even 370 that morning–exactly a 200 lb gain compared to that weigh in in August almost four years before.

Mike was a sight to behold as he proudly waddled across the stage at the graduation ceremony with elephantine grace, his graduation robes stretched to cover his big round pot belly in the front and his enormous round ballooning ass in the rear. Mike’s whole family–his parents, Grandma, Grandpa, and Sue and her parents sat proudly in the audience. Grandma had tears in her eyes and said softly, “that’s our boy” as Mike shook hands with the college president and received his diploma.

Mike and Sue got married that summer. Charlie was the best man. The ceremony was held at the Lutheran church, and the reception took place in the church social hall where Mike and Sue first met three years before. The whole town had been invited, and all the women lined up with plates in hand so Mike could sample all of the home made goodies they each had lovingly prepared for the reception.

After the reception, Mike and Sue moved to the town where State U was located. Sue continued her studies at State and Mike had a teaching assistant job while he studied for his masters degree.

It’s now been five years since Mike and Sue were married. Mike got his masters and has a good job as an agronomist and Sue enjoys teaching Home Ec at the local high school. At 28 years old, Mike’s weight gain has stabilized somewhat to around 5 or 6 pounds a year. He’s somewhere on the far side of 400, but who’s counting? Just last week, Mike found buried in a drawer the last pair of “farmer john” bib overalls he wore the summer he spent on the farm. He took them out and went to try them on, thinking he could still get some use from them. He smiled, surprised, when he discovered that he couldn’t even pull them up over his thighs.

Mike is noticing that Sue is starting to fill out a little and she’s developing that “farm wife” look that her mother and Grandma are such good examples of. Mike and Sue visit the farm often–Charlie (now a 338-pounder) and his wife run it since Grandma and Grandpa have “retired”. Sue is as good a cook as her mother and Grandma, but she and Mike still look forward to the care packages that arrive from Grandma a couple of times a month.

And yes, Mike and Sue’s lovemaking is just as hot as ever!

guudetama  asked:

Hello! You guys are a godsend ;o; I've been searching for this fic where Derek and Stiles break up bc Derek moved out of Beacon Hills and thinks that Stiles could do better than staying in BH. then Derek returned and Stiles has to save the pack's butt bc a monster's on the loose. overall angst w/ a happy ending. I've been going through the breakup lists and misunderstandings tag for it but I can't seem to find one similar to what I read.

AND

Derek and stiles, I think they broke up and stiles is in his apartment and Derek wants to come in and the window is locked but he stills comes in by breaking the bolt.  It had Erica saying “there is no years when Derek is concerned” in the description. Stiles and Lydia are both pretty much physically incapable leaving due to the nemeton. Anyway, this really old creature follows Derek back to BH and Stiles works at Walmart. The final battle happens at walmart where Stiles basically sucks some of the creature into himself and can never leave BH again. Derek decides to stay.

Heeeey, @guudetama! @wolf-with-the-red-roses let us know this one was deleted and gave us more info and then @thealphasspark told us it was a SIAND fic that’s been deleted. But you’re in luck we’ve got it saved in a dropbox pdf.

Originally posted by chiasquatch

Morning Finds You by standinginanicedress

(1/1 I 51,169 I Mature I Sterek)

Favourite Outfit

Written for day 4 of Robert Week on tumblr.

Day 4 (7th September) - “That’s my favourite outfit on you.”;

This is my first time ever writing smut, it felt awkward, hopefully it doesn’t read that way, but this is what popped into my mind when I read the prompt.


I’ve put it under a read more due to content. Not sure if smut is allowed in Robert week, apologies if not.

Keep reading

In addition to my ongoing Metroid redesign project and commissions, I’ve been wanting to draw portraits of my 10 favorite character designs(of the moment, they’re constantly changing) in video games, animation and comics. Took this as an opportunity to get more loose and energetic and overall more experimental with texture, line style and color.

First off, we have a package deal-

1. Necro and Effie- from Street Fighter III! These two have been a couple of my favorite characters ever since I was 9 years old, and I have drawn them many many times over the years.

For the love of God Capcom, put them back in SFV!

Ouran As...

Hogwarts Students!

I’ll back up my thoughts here with quotes from the Welcome Letters from Pottermore and some HP meta as well as character traits from canon, and if you disagree/have any thoughts, please feel free to message me!

Tamaki: Gryffindor! “Gryffindor people tend to be very emotionally driven as their primary function, and work with their hearts first and their heads second.”, “Gryffindors can be very quick to flip outlooks, mostly trying to keep a positive outlook on everything until their own mindsets or goals are threatened, at which point they can turn quite negative and “doom and gloom”’ Personally I think that this describes Tamaki to a T - His plans are in fact often emotionally driven, and when they are sometimes shot down with another’s bit of reasoning, he often draws in on himself - or in a corner - shrouded in black lighting used to show his sadness. He also gets rather fiery whenever his plans are “attacked” so to speak. His flair for dramatics is also a Gryffindor trait - “A secondary characteristic of Gryffindors would be showboating, I’d say. They love seeming impressive to a crowd…”, and we all know how much Tamaki loves impressing the crowds.

Honey: Hufflepuff! Honey was actually the hardest for me to “sort”, so to speak, because he has this sort of duality about him - the sweet, childish Honey, and the more intense, brutal Haninozuka. But reading through some meta, this actually is why he’s in Hufflepuff. Honey tried for a very long time to be someone he isn’t, denying himself the things he truly wanted and essentially denying every aspect of his truer self. “… their habitual tendency to try and be what they think others need them to be. They will try and form themselves to what they think someone wants them to be in order for the other person or peoples to be happy. This is not something they should try, as expression and their free spirit is what makes the Hufflepuff who they truly are.” Honey is definitely a free spirit once he lets go of his restrictions. Honey’s loyalty to the club and his family is also a factor - it’s often said that of the houses, Hufflepuff is the most loyal. Although they are also seen as exceedingly kind, Hufflepuffs become brutal in regards to being betrayed or hurt - while Honey generally becomes more emotionally upset by this sort of thing, the only “betrayal” I know of is when Mori won’t allow him to have sweets and Honey only lashes out at him once and it’s definitely not pretty, his most violent reactions are when the Club, his family, are threatened. “If a Hufflepuff likes you, which generally they will give you the benefit of the doubt, they will be empathetic and try to use this to help you. If, for some reason, you betray or upset a Hufflepuff, do not think they will just go sulk, this is simply how their darker and more negative side comes out.” Honey tends to avoid conflict, and even tries to act as a peacekeeper on several occasions, another Hufflepuff trait.

Kyoya: Slytherin! Kyoya’s as cunning as they come - which doesn’t make him a bad person by any means, just like being placed into Slytherin wouldn’t. He’s very loyal, even if he does choose to present that loyalty as coming from a place of, well, his desire to be “connected”, even though I(and I’m sure many others) feel that Kyoya’s loyalty to people, especially the Host Club, is entirely genuine and has nothing to do with their familial ties. “For instance, we Slytherins look after our own.” When it comes down to everything, the Host Club is more than a club - it’s a family. “Loyalty is not automatically granted because of your title, you must earn it, and once you have their trust they will do anything for you, and protect you through any means that is necessary.” Kyoya is willing to go endless miles for the club - especially Tamaki - because they are his friends, his family. Slytherins are naturally ambitions and seek control - “A Slytherin in complete control and well on their way to their goals is likely to appear relaxed or even smug.” I mean, that sounds just like Kyoya, doesn’t it?

Hikaru and Kaoru: Gryffindor! Due to the similarities between the houses, I almost put the two of them in Slytherin, but I believe Gryffindor to be a much better fit for them. They’ve been consistently likened to the Weasley twins - mischievous, red-haired twins who are well-liked among their peers. Both boys are emotional, although Hikaru is notably more emotional and less mature than Kaoru. Personally I see there being two types of Gryffindors - the outgoing, popular with everyone type which is clearly Tamaki, and the more withdrawn, rough around the edges type which I where I see the twins. “They try to keep their emotions at bay and just show how strong they are, how incapable they are of breaking. These are the Gryffindors that put up a wall, and if you can connect with them, this wall falls easily.” It’s well known that before the twins joined the Host Club, they spoke almost exclusively to each other, and were incredibly emotionally withdrawn. The twins have slowly transitioned into more Type 1 Gryffindors thanks to the Host Club. They are also incredibly loyal, even if to each other first and foremost, and like the others, regard the Host Club as their family. The twins as well as Tamaki are also chivalrous, a noted trait among Gryffindors.

(truthfully I was hoping to put them into separate houses, but their personalities and drives are honestly so similar I don’t think even the Sorting Hat would have)

Mori: Hufflepuff! “Hufflepuffs are trustworthy and loyal. We don’t shoot our mouths off, but cross us at your peril; like our emblem, the badger, we will protect ourselves, our friends and our families against all-comers. Nobody intimidates us.” Mori has proven himself, on multiple occasions, to be resoundingly loyal to both his family and the Club - even ‘protecting’ Haruhi from Tamaki only after just meeting her!(I use the term ‘protecting’ loosely of course). “Overall, Hufflepuffs are much stronger than they are ever given credit for, and most of this stems from the fact that they do not act for themselves, but for the people that they love.” Mori only speaks when he sees fit - he is by every measure the strong, silent type - and is not boastful by any means, which is certainly a trait the other houses occasionally have issue with, whereas Hufflepuff is known for their fairness and open-mindedness. Mori is also incredibly kind, and is described as being “too kind-hearted, so he could never break a girl’s heart”(in reference to Valentine’s day but most likely a general statement concerning Mori).

Haruhi: Ravenclaw! The most obvious thing I can think of here is Haruhi’s strive for knowledge with a goal in mind - she had a goal she wanted to achieve and only the most elite academy could help her get there. She’s the top of her class, so the intelligence is clearly there. Haruhi actually reminds me a lot of Luna, for some reason - she’s very smart, indeed, but this isn’t her most important quality which is what most people expect from Ravenclaws. While it’s known that Haruhi would often rather be studying than engaging in Host Club activities, this is only due to her focus - she must remain at the head of the class or otherwise lose her scholarship. Ravenclaws often have an intellectual niche of sorts, and I see this a lot in Haruhi and her gift of reading people: she can tell the twins apart regardless of the tricks they try to pull, she sees through Kyoya’s facade, and understands that Mori is trying to punish himself before anyone else(save for maybe Kyoya). She also seems to hold back her own emotions - she doesn’t really express a lot of emotion other than general annoyance with the club, “Ravenclaws are fantastic at hiding their emotions.“ While Haruhi is clearly at least somewhat comfortable in large groups, she’s definitely more of an introvert and you have to remember that most often, even during club hours, she most often only sits with two/three girls at a time, and while I don’t think she minds spending time with the all of the Hosts, she generally seems to side along with one or two specific Hosts at a time, “if you are looking for someone jumping at any and all opportunities to spend time with you or have fun in big groups, then you are not looking for a Ravenclaw“.


I can honestly say I didn’t expect this to get so long and detailed(Honey’s is really long whooeee.)

Tomorrow will be ATLA! I’d like to do these once a day for a week, although maybe not so detailed. So if you have any suggestions for other fandoms, please feel free to shoot me a message!! :)

Bunny *Andy Biersack Imagine*

Welcome to the bunny farm!

The pink striped paint decorated your room. It was very frilly and girly, quite old fashioned. It wasn’t your first choice in decor, but it’s grown on you, ever since you’ve been hired. It was a second home now.

Your room was part of a brothel, known as “The Bunny Farm.” It housed about twenty-five girls and many different luxuries to offer the guests, and those (such as yourself) who resided there.

Swimming pools, hot tubs, built in gym, a bar, movie room.. the list goes on! You had it all, not to mention that the money you made wasn’t bad at all.

The downside? You had to often hide your lifestyle from your loved ones, in a away to avoid judgement.

Today, the house was expecting a new group of guests, which you were excited for. Things weren’t too busy, and if it’s not busy, your pay may drop. The group that you were informed of was a group of musicians and their crew.

On their reservation sheets, it explained that none of them had experienced visiting a brothel, so everyone was to make sure that they were treated extra special.

You chose to look your sweetest for your visitor. Later, he’d find out how naughty you could be. You wore lingerie with lots of frills and lace, much similar to the decoration that made up your bedroom, topped with a silky robe and your hair in loose curls.

Overall, you very satisfied with how innocently sexy you looked.

Downstairs the hostess welcome the new guests. She greeted them with brochures and gave them a tour of the place, explaining rules, regulations, and of course, the endless fun the place had to offer.

“……And what’s your name, sweetie?” You hear outside of your door.

“Andy.” The raspy voice replies.

“Well Andy, your play date will begin in here.”

The hostess opens your door and guides him in, helping him arrange his bags.

“Your little bunny is in here somewhere. I’m sure you will love her.” She winks and Andy thanks her.

You powder your face before you leave the restroom.

“Hello?” You peer around the corner.

Andy turns around from his suitcase and the biggest smile cracks. He’s clearly In awe over how great you look.

“Well.” He sits on the bed. “What’s your name, little bunny?”

He winks at you that then makes your knees weak. Never have you been completely smitten by a customer. This one was so charming and handsome. Not to mention much younger than some of the others you’ve had.

You shake his hand “(y/n)”

Andy motions you to come closer to you. He places his hand over your cheek and strokes over it with his thumb. You feel very at ease with him, almost positive that he’ll treat you very, very well.

“So (y/n), are you a good girl?”

“I’m a very good girl, Andy.” You giggle innocently.

He chuckles “Yeah? And what are you hiding from me under here, little bunny?”

After a few tugs on your robe, he unties the string and gently slides it off of your shoulders.

“Mmm look at you.” He growls. “I can’t wait to eat you.”

“You want to eat me?!” You tease.

Andy pulls you even closer. He kisses your neck, then nibbles at your sensitive flesh. He feels over your curves. You moan out loud as he gropes your ass.

Then after, you pounce on his lap, kissing him. His lips tasted of nicotine. Usually, it’d be a huge turn off, but since Andy was incredibly stunning, it didn’t matter.

His teeth caught your tongue and pulled it back into his mouth. He toyed with it for a few, stroking his own tongue against yours.

“Do you want me to play with you?” You whisper in his ear as you nibble on his ear lobe.

Without a response, Andy holds you by your hips and gently moves you aside. He strips off everything except his tight jeans. He lays onto the bed again, spread out and ready for you.

You sit on your knees by his feet, rubbing your hands up his legs. You’d rub his inner thighs and back down again, each time inching closer to his growing bulge.

Andy props himself up onto his elbows to watch your every movement, at least that’s what he seemed to be looking at.

You look up at him and see that he’s actually staring at your cleavage that was practically falling out of your lace bra.

He reaches and squeezes one of your breasts, then massages it in his hand.

You could help but moan.

“Can I see them?” Andy asks.

You pull away from him, blushing.

“I don’t know, I’m a good girl.” Teasingly, you push your breasts even closer together.

Andy hooks his fingers under the middle of your bra “Please? You can be naughty, just for me. I won’t tell anyone.”

He playfully winks at you, giving you the biggest devilish smile.

You unhook your bra from the back, throwing it to the floor. You cover your chest with your arms, still teasing him.

“I’m supposed to be on my best behavior!”

Still smiling, Andy rubs his hand over his denim trapped erection.

“If I let you play with this” he squeezes it “will you show me?”

You slowly remove your arms to free your breasts. He toys with your nipples while you unbuckle his belt, freeing his solid length.

“That’s all for you, baby.” He manages to take off his jeans the rest of the way.

Repositioning yourself between his legs, you arch your back and crawl up towards his aching member.

You take it in your hand and lower your mouth to his inner thigh and lick all the way up to his balls, just below them, then back up between the two.

Andy gets shivers down his spine, feeling your tongue explore him.

Your tongue licks up his shaft and stops right before the tip. You give it a kiss and lick back down.

As you get back to his leaking head, you swirl your tongue around it, much like a lollipop, then take it into your mouth to suck. Each time your head bobs up, you take a little more in, just to see how much of him you can fit. After all, he is quite large.

Before he got off a little too much, you resorted to stroking his cock. His lips were parted and he panted heavily.

“Tell me Andy, are you a taken man?” You asked.

“Things are complicated…” he grunts.

In a way, this made you feel happy. Not that he’d actually take interest in pursuing something further with someone who is paid for sex, but more so that you are able to help him take some things off of his mind perhaps.


Maybe even pleasure him better than whoever is in his life.

Once you stop jerking his cock, you pulled your ruffled panties off straddled him, and spread your legs, giving him a view.

Andy traced his fingers around your opening to feel your wetness. Then he spread your folds open to rub your clit.

“Mmmmm… she needs a kiss.” Andy says, slipping a finger into your hole. He licks your juices off of his finger, savoring your sweet flavor.

“I want you on my face.”

You move up closer, almost straddling his neck. Andy kisses your pussy, tonguing around the insides of the lips.

He sticks his tongue in, licking you inside. He grazes your g-spot a few times, making your hips buck in excitement for more. Andy flicks it in and out at a quick pace.

“I need you on your back.”

You get off of him and reposition. He is now on his knees between your legs. You seductively run the top of your foot over his stomach and up his chest. He takes your ankle and pulls off your thigh high stocking.

He massages your foot for a second, then sucks your toes.

Normally, you weren’t into this. However, his mouth was too talented to deny.

Your leg was put over his shoulder, then he pushed his entire length inside of you.

He waited a few moments for you to adjust to his size. His hips hit yours with every thrust, each thrust getting him deeper into you.

“You’re a good little bunny, aren’t you baby?”

“I’m a good girl for your big cock”

Andy’s grip on your hips tightens when you clench around his cock. You were tight, but you could make it even tighter for him.

“Yeah little thing, you like that don’t you?”

“I love being fucked by you.” You whimpered.

He reached under and spanked you ass. “You talk so filthy, little bunny.”

His thrusts became sloppier, and so did your grinding. You were both ready to finish.

You squealed and came on his dick, which made him finish next. He pulled out and warm white streams of cum spilled out onto your stomach and dripped down his softening shaft.

Both of you laid to catch your breath. You wiped some of Andy’s sticky fluids from your abdomen and licked it from your fingers.

Andy got up and rummaged through his bag until he found his wallet. He handed you a considerable amount of cash.

“Thank you, but I can have you pay downstairs.” You say.

“No.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “That’s extra for you. I want to spend the rest of the weekend with you.”

How could you resist? A tall, gorgeous, sexy musician wanting to spend a whole weekend with you sounded amazing.