#20-inch model

[ophelia-martin]

De spannende wereld van DYU E-Bikes verkennen

Hallo iedereen,

Ik ben enthousiast om mijn ervaringen met de DYU e-bike te delen, vooral het 20-inch model, dat mijn dagelijkse woon-werkverkeer echt heeft getransformeerd!

Hoe beïnvloedt de 20-inch wielgrootte de rit? Ik vind dat het een perfecte balans biedt tussen stabiliteit en wendbaarheid, waardoor het een genot is om te rijden in zowel stedelijke als landelijke omgevingen.

Ik heb gemerkt dat de acculevensduur indrukwekkend is. Ik kan uren rijden zonder me zorgen te maken dat ik zonder stroom kom te zitten, wat mijn vertrouwen tijdens het verkennen van nieuwe routes echt vergroot.

Het ontwerp van de DYU e-bike is slank en modern. Het is niet alleen functioneel; het is ook een echte blikvanger! Ik ontvang vaak complimenten van vrienden en vreemden.

Zijn er tips voor het onderhoud van de 20-inch e-bike? Ik heb het regelmatig schoongemaakt, en ik geloof dat dat de sleutel is om het in topvorm te houden.

Bedankt allemaal voor jullie inzichten en veel rijplezier!

[rafeandonlyrafe]

flashing lights

words: 2.4k

warnings: 18+ only, brief smut, p in v sex, model!reader (a bit of influencer too but primarily a model), soft rafe, marriage, pregnancy

“so thats your new girl?” topper asks, eyes on you as you twirl to the music, long legs on show in the simple black dress.

“yeah, shes here for a month on vacation.” rafes also looking at you, unable to let his gaze stray, in case a man comes up and attempts to dance with you. you may not be an official item yet, considering you only met a couple days ago, but rafe is determined to spend the entire month that you’re here with you, and not let any other men pull your focus away.

“she looks so familiar.” the voice rings out before rafe even realizes that there's other people now sat in the circle of chairs and couches, too wrapped up in you.

the girl, who rafe recognizes from high school, begins to tap on her phone. “wait, shes a model.” “yeah, she told me.” rafe shrugs it off. he could have guessed your profession anyways, with how naturally stunning you are, and your height almost rivaling his, only a few inches shorter.

“no, like really famous model.” the girl turns her phone towards rafe, and he hates having to drag his eyes away from you to look at the screen, pulled open to a google search of your name.

“holy shit!” topper says for rafe, taking the phone from the girl as he clicks the first link to open up your instagram. “she has 20 MILLION followers, rafe.”

rafe glances from the phone to you as you turn to smile at him, still dancing to the music, glad to be free of all the attention and camera flashes. its why you chose the outer banks in the first place, somewhere more tucked away to take a month away from the spotlight.

“why are you so surprised, look at her.” rafe states before standing up, tired of letting you dance alone as he joins you on the makeshift dance floor, his hands coming to your waist as you give him a dazzling smile.

-- two years later --

camera lights flash and shouts ring out, but rafe is used to it now.

he smiles and waves, shocked that anyone would care about him, a nobody from north carolina, his only claim to fame is being your boyfriend, for a little over two years now.

rafe walks inside, having enough of the screaming and crowds as he takes in the area, chairs set up along a runway, a large prada sign on the white wall. your prestige has only grown since rafe began to date you, despite coming back to the outer banks several times to take a break and visit him. since rafe began to travel with you, you’ve gone from paris to milan to new york to london, gracing the covers of magazines and walking runways.

he tries to attend every show, taking on a pseudo-management role himself. your favorite part is dressing rafe in the mornings, having received clothing from so many brands, both mens and womens fit. rafe lets you choose, knowing you have the eye for fashion, and he loves to see how happy you get when he wears your outfit.

rafe walks through the seats until he finds the one with his name on it, front row. he sits down, scrolling on his phone as people begin to file in until the room is packed full.

he waits as the show begins, models walking down the runway. they don’t shine to him, not like you do when you step out, your face blank in the typical model expression as you strut down the runway, dressed in all denim with a pair of chunky sunglasses on your nose.

rafe is in awe every time he sees you work, whether its watching your fluid poses during a photoshoot or your long legs stomping down a runway.

he waits with bated breath for your second outfit, changing into a slouchy menswear-esque ensemble, only pulled in at your waist as the fabric swishes around your ankles.

he claps when everyone steps out for the final walk, but he doesn’t cheer for the designer, even if it is prada, as he makes eye contact with you, only ever a brief glance while you're walking the runway, knowing if you look for too long you will become entranced with his handsomeness.

rafe waits for you after the show along with some of the other family members or partners of the models, long after all the celebrities have gone, either to an afterparty or on to a different show.

“hey baby.” rafe smiles when you step out, hair still slicked up in a ponytail, face caked with makeup, but now in a pair of loose jeans and a plain white crop top.

“hi handsome.” you coo, pressing your lips against rafes. “did you like the show?” “i liked you in the show.” rafe says pointedly, making you blush. “are we going to the afterparty?” “nah.” you shake your head. “i have that carolina herrera show in the morning, and i want to spend some time with you.”

“i’ll never argue against spending alone time with you.” rafe says, slotting his arm around your waist as you exit the building, surprised when photographers are still waiting outside. you wave briefly before rushing towards the car, knowing the picture of you and rafe are bound to be spread all over instagram and pinterest before you even make it back to your hotel room.

--

“rafe, i’ve got a question.” you hum, stepping out onto the balcony, eyes looking to the ocean. you’re on a paid for vacation by a makeup brand, simply wanting a couple instagram story posts using their products in a get ready with me. you are supposed to be relaxing the rest of the time, but you crept onto your phone to read the latest email from your agent.

“what is it babe?” rafe asks as he pulls you down onto his lap, scantily dressed in only his swimsuit, not that you have worn much other than a bikini this whole trip.

“what would you think about me doing a lingerie photoshoot?” you haven’t accepted any jobs that would call for you to show off a lot of skin or be paired with a male model since you started dating rafe, lucky to be in a place to reject jobs.

“who is it for?” rafe asks.

“calvin klein. i wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t them.” you admit. you find their style of black and white classic photos far more tasteful than traditional lingerie pictures.

“as long as i can be there during the shoot.” rafe says. he’s taken the role of your advocate and protector during photoshoots, easily able to read your face and speak up for you if needed, considering sometimes the models voice gets drowned out.

“of course.” you nod. 

“then absolutely.” rafe pulls you in closer to his body. “i need a new lockscreen anyways.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you as you turn towards the ocean, watching the waves roll onto the sand.

--

you step out behind the curtain, a tight fitting sports bra contrasting the loose jeans, slung open and zipper undone to show off your underwear as well as the calvin klein jeans.

you look over to rafe, who has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as his eyes skate down your bare torso.

you most over to the white backdrop as the photographer begins to test the lighting, taking occasional snaps as things are adjusted.

the photoshoot is run just like any other and you’re finished faster than expected considering they’re solo shots and no change in location or background.

you keep the underwear and jeans on, simply throwing on a sweatshirt before getting into the taxi home with rafe, this time to your new york city apartment, having collected various homes and apartments around the world, depending on wherever you were doing business at the time. you consider the outer banks home though, returning every extended break with rafe.

“did you like the shoot?” you ask when you get home, rafe laying on bed while you tug the sweatshirt and jeans off, leaving you in just the calvin klein bra and panties.

“get over here.” rafe says, not caring about your question. he’s been desperate for you since you appeared from behind the curtain, not even trying to hide it as he watched the photoshoot, your eyes occasionally moving to him, giving him reassurance you were still good.

rafe makes you keep the underwear on, simply pulling it to the side once he’s got your back against the mattress to slide his cock deep inside of you. you push the sports bra up to let your breasts free, rafes palm instantly coming to cover your tit as he thrusts into you.

“i think you should do more shoots like that.” rafe says with a moan, cock pulsing inside of you.

--

“its nice to be back home.” you sigh, quickly applying some makeup, mostly just mascara and a glowy primer. 

“agreed.” rafe kisses your shoulder, watching over your shoulder as you finish and then adjust your white dress, having decided to take a couple pictures on the beach for you to post as well as just enjoy a walk on the sand.

“alright, i’m ready.” you hum as you slip on your sandals. you lace your fingers with rafes before stepping out the back door. “you look handsome by the way.”

the suns golden light illuminates his skin. his outfit is simple, closer to what he wore before the fame. a simple white button down, loose fitting and you are sure would look delicious unbuttoned, showing off his muscles.

“thank you baby.” rafe presses a kiss to your cheek, leading you down the beach until you come across a picnic set up. you glance around before realizing its for you.

“oh my god, its just like our first date!” you gush, stepping away from rafe to look at the spread.

“before we eat, i have a question to ask you.” you turn around to realize that rafe is on one knee, a velvet jewelry box in his hand.

“oh, rafe.” you press your hand to your mouth, tears already coming to your eyes as he opens the box, revealing a sparkling diamond ring. “will you marry me?”

--

“how am i supposed to look good next to a literal model?” rafe asks as he looks towards the camera, looking almost nervous for once in his life.

“we’ve taken pictures together before rafe.” you roll your eyes, adjusting your wedding dress. it’s actually four weeks after your wedding, but you wanted to get professional photos done with your new husband and asked one of your photographer friends who was more than willing to let you into their studio if they could post some of the photos on their instagram and website.

“mirror selfies and shit, this is more serious.” rafe says as you tug him over to the backdrop.

“you look so handsome, babe. don’t worry.” you smooth your hands over his shoulders. “just think back to our wedding day, we took so many pictures then.”

“i was too distracted by how excited i was to marry you.” rafe says, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, the oscar de larenta dress you ended up deciding on being off the shoulder. it was a simple dress, but the closer you got you realized how intricate the lace detail is. “you look just like you did on our wedding day though, baby. the makeup artists did a great job.”

“just tanner.” you joke, having gone on your honeymoon already.

you look as the photographer begins to set up their lens, before you turn to whisper to rafe. “you can’t tell?” you question, pressing your hand to your stomach. you know there’s no way you’d already begin to show, considering your baby is no bigger than a seed, but that doesn’t stop you from getting worried about your pregnancy being discovered early.

“not at all.” rafe shakes his head, but can’t hide the smirk that comes to his face, knowing your tummy will soon swell with his child, having made sure of it many times on the honeymoon.

--

“i was thinking about how we could announce the baby.” you tell rafe as you pad into the kitchen. he’s still making the decaf coffee you were absolutely craving, more syrup and milk than coffee.

“how?” he hums, glancing over at you as you lean against the counter, rubbing your stomach, bump now obvious as you’re over 6 months along. you have managed to keep it a secret so far, saying you were taking a break from modeling to focus on your new marriage. there is of course a lot of speculation that you are pregnant, but it is to be expected.

“calvin klein shoot. like before, except i’ve got a big ol’ bump.” you laugh as rafe finishes you coffee off with some whip cream before sliding the mug to you. “and you can be in it too.”

rafe rolls his eyes as you giggle. “come on! the girls love you, you’re so handsome.”

“i’m not a model.” rafe argues back, but he already knows he’s going to agree, he’d do anything for you, his pregnant wife.

“yeah, but you’re hot like a model.” you shrug, taking a sip of coffee.

“i think this is just an excuse to get me shirtless and in underwear.” rafe laughs, pressing a kiss to your upper lip, cleaning off the whip cream that sat on your cupids bow.

“yeah, and what about it?”

--

“you know theres some hormone to make women forget the pain of birth?” you hum to rafe, keeping your voice soft. “because if you remembered then no one would never do it again.”

“really?” rafe whispers, his voice also hushed as to not wake the sleeping newborn cuddled up in his arms, wrapped in a soft hospital banket.

“yeah.” you nod. “but i don’t wanna forget a moment of this.”

“im sure you wont baby.” rafe kisses your head as your tiny daughter squirms in his arms, letting out a yawn in her slumber. “i suppose i need to use a different name for you now that we’ve got an actual baby.”

you giggle, resting your head against rafes shoulder as you look down on your perfect little girl, already an adorable mixture of you and rafe.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

[cottoncandyswisherz]

working at the pyramid

this is long a fuck for no reason so its small font lol

softdom!chris x stripper!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (double wrap w aluminum foil) p in v, oral, (male receiving) pole dancing

-

the club is dark. all lights are off and the only thing you can hear is jay, our dj, yelling into the mic. 

"okay fellas, its saturday, you know what that means. its time for our favorite girl to do her thangs. make some noise for our money maker, our heart breaker, MISS CLEOOOO!" 

and the crowd goes wild.

the music starts and i strut onto the stage, in character. 

the projector displays a burning sun behind me, the lights shines a dark orange. this is my time to shine. all these men are here watching me with hungry eyes and i'm about to feed them. 

laying with my back on the ground i wait for my cue. 

wake up to your girl for now lets call her cleopatra i watch you fix your hair then put your panties on in the mirror, cleopatra

i arch my back and pull at my hair. then your lipstick, cleopatra then your six-inch heels, catch her she's headed to the pyramid

i roll over onto my stomach and stretch my arms in front of me, kicking my feet slowly, making eye contact with some shmuck in to crowd before turning back on my back.

she's working at the pyramid tonight

the beat drops and it begins. 

grabbing the back of my heels i raise my hips in a kegel position and grind my hips slowly in the air.

then i raise my butt all the way in the air, holding myself up and bring my knees together and twirl them before straightening one and pointing my toes over my head. keeping my legs in that position i slowly bring them down

pimpin in my convos bubbles in my champagne let it be some jazz playin top floor hotel suite twisting my cigars floor model tv with the vcr

back on my stomach i slowly bring myself on all fours and dramatically throw my head back, allowing my hair to fall down my arched back. 

got rubies in my damn chain whip aint got no gas tank but it still got woodgrain

i get on my feet and bounce before standing all the way up

got your girl working for me hit the strip and my bills paid that keep my bills paid hit the strip and my bills paid keep a nigga bills paid

prancing to the pole, i lock eyes with a white boy. like everyone else, he's got a shit eating grin on his face. but unlike everyone else, he doesn't throw 1's on the stage. he throws a flurry of 20's. 

i grab the pole and saunter around it twice, then press my back against it and grind again. 

time to climb this bitch. 

she's working and the pyramid tonight

i turn around and step around the pole before swinging and wrapping my legs around it tilt my head back and now i'm spinning, as the pole rotates. i do my tricks and shit, giving them the show they want.

keeping my grip, the pole stops and throw my head all the way back, allowing myself to be upside down. only for a second though because i place my hands on the floor and flip into a split as the beat drops again. 

the men go insane, and i'm showered in bills. 

you showed up after work, i'm bathin your body touch you in places only i know you're wet and you're warm just like our bathwater can we make love before you go

i grind to the beat in various positions, before bringing myself back to pole, placing it between my heel and shoe so i can limp all the way to the top. 

once i'm there i hook one leg around the pole and drop my head. upside down once again. i spread my arms out and spin. 

shouting and money flying once again. 

the way you say my name makes me feel like i'm that nigga but i'm still unemployed you say it's big but you take it ride cowgirl

after a few seconds, i bring my body back up right and slide down. with my legs under me, i move my hips, so it looks like i'm riding

but your love ain't free no more baby but your love ain't free no more

then i fall back so i'm laying on my back, like before i started. 

she's working at the pyramid she's working at the pyramid tonight

and the lights shut off. 

just like that, i move off the stage and go to my dresser and drink some water. 

5 minutes go by and i've caught my breath. thomas, another employee comes in with my earnings from tonight. but i don't have time to count it, so i put the bag in my locker and go out to work the floor. 

a few of my regulars make their usual requests and soon i'm $150 richer. i walk over to the bar and ask for a lemonade and while i'm waiting a hand taps my shoulder. 

"i'm on break. " i mutter in an agitated tone, not bothering to turn around. 

"i'll pay double." 

and just like that, I GOT MOTION!

i turn around and see the white boy from earlier. 

with a seductive grin, i shake my head. "go find a seat on the floor and i'll come find you after my drink."

"the floor?" white boy turns around and looks at the room, full of idiots. "no, i want a private room." 

"those are 150 an hour..."

"where do i pay?"

is he for real...

"usually people who want them have a group."

"just me."

wow.

"you pay up front." he pulled his phone out.

"you guys take apple pay?"

i was flabbergasted. "uh... yeah i think so."

"great. you finish your drink and i'll come get you when everything is paid for."

-

20 minutes later i'm stepping into a private room. 

"you can play whatever music you want. i can dance to pretty much anything."

this is so fucking awkward by myself. usually there like 5 of us in here with an equal amount of guys. 

but he won't see me sweat. 

"anything?"

"yup."

he pulls his phone out, connecting to the bluetooth. 

"okay you better be telling the truth." he begins searching for a song. 

he plays the fucking macarena. 

"be so fucking for real." i fight back a smile. "i'm half naked and you want me to do the macarena?"

"hey you said you can dance to anything." he chuckles, putting his hands up. he has a small duffel bag next to him. i can just smell the money in it. 

fuck it. i think then begin the dance. 

money falls at my feet as i do the routine and laugh. 

soon the song is over and a new one starts. 

this one slower.

i start with a little floor routine that ends with me on my knees, so i can crawl over to him.

placing  my hands on his thighs, i lift myself up and turn around so my ass is right in his face and i dance, dropping and coming back up. 

i felt his hands grip my waist, and usually, clients aren't allowed to touch us, but this ones fine as a motherfucker so i'll allow it. 

he pulls me down so i'm sitting in his lap, my back to his chest. i move my hips on him and he turns my head to the side so i'm kinda looking at him. then his hand grabs my neck and his other one drops 20's. 

the bills fall down my body and land in my lap and it's the hottest thing i've ever encountered. 

with a smile, i turn around so i'm straddling him and grind some more. i feel his erection on my clit through his shorts and it makes my pussy flood. 

if i keep looking in his eyes i'm gonna cum. so i look at the wall to distract myself. but that doesn't work because he grips my jaw and forces me to look at him. 

"eyes on me mama."

fuck. 

now we're locked in. eyes trapped in each other. i can't escape. 

but i have to. 

so place his hands on my hips and lean back, so my back is arched. 

i thought this would help. 

it didn't. 

one of his hands spreads on my belly and reaches up my front, his large hand on my chest. 

i come back up and decide no physical contact was the solution. 

so i get up and begin another floor routine.

he stands up and walks over to me, looking in my eyes a-fucking-gain so i turn around and dance until his hand is on my hips again with his other one the back of my neck, bending me over. 

and now we're lowkey dry humping. 

shit. 

standing up right again, i turn around and take a step back. 

i can't fuck him. i'll lose my job. i'll lose my dignity. 

"we can't-"

the motion is swift when he tugs me towards him and my body collides with his. my hands automatically come up and land against his chest, and my eyes fall shut. 

my fingers spread out, trying to feel as much of him as i can. 

his lips brush against my ear. "tell me to stop, cleo. tell me to stop, and i will."

i pull my head back enough to look at him and think. 

i have two options. 

1. walk out and do my job like nothing happened with the worst case of blue ovaries i've ever had. 

or 

2. fuck this man and walk out and do my job like nothing happened having had what i hope will be the best orgasm i've ever had.

i don't know about you but option two seems like the obvious choice. 

"i don't want you to stop." 

his fingers grip me tighter.

"you want me to fuck you?" 

my breath hitches and i slowly nod my head. 

"my name's chris. say 'yes, chris.'"

my thighs clench as i feel my pussy flood again. "yes, chris."

a sound leaves his mouth, then its pressing against mine.

i melt into the kiss. his full lips slanting over mine, demanding them to open. 

i try to focus. i try to remember who i am and that i'm a badass who refuses to submit to a stranger. i try to focus, but there's a lightening storm going off inside my body and i can't hold onto a single bolt. 

my arms wrap around the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. 

chris' large hands move up my side, the heat of them seeping through my skin and putting my body on fire. keeping the tips of his fingers against my ribs, he spreads his grip out until his thumbs trace along the underside of my tits. 

i lean into the touch. the press of his body against mine is divine torture. but then he's gone. 

his hands leave my sides at the same time his mouth leave mine. 

my eyes blink open, but instead of finding his gaze on mine, i find his hooded eyes focused on my chest. 

with slow movements, chris reaches behind me and unclips the bra i'm wearing. it falls at my feet. 

chris tongue slides across his lower lips as he eyes my pierced nipples. he uses his thumbs to rub over each one, the buds tightening and i can no longer stay quiet. 

letting out a whimper of appreciation, i raise my arms and grip his white tee. 

"fuck." he groans the words as he palms my breasts, leaving my nipples exposed between his thumb and index finger. "fuck." he says again, dipping down and taking one small barbell into his mouth. 

"oh god.." i groan, my fingers leave his sides and dig into his hair.

this isn't the first time someone has played with the piercings but with him, its so much better.

he tugs and pulls at my other nipple and i'm so needy, i'm ready burst.

"chris." i pant. "please, chris."

letting my breast pop free, chris stands back to his full height. 

my hands reach for the string of his sweat shorts, undoing the knot and tugging them down. 

dark, tight briefs are all that stand between his cock and my hands and i tug those down too until his erection bobs free. 

of course it's perfect in every fucking way. 

my fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down. chris' hand closes over mine and squeezes, forcing me to grip him tighter. 

freak ass. 

"take off your panties." he squeezes my hand once more before releasing his grip.

letting go of him, i shimmy out of my thong.

chris strokes himself while saying, "gimme a spin."

i smirk and slowly twirl around, making a show of it, moving my hips to the music that's still playing. 

"you're fucking perfect." then he's stepping to me, lifting me, and walking me to the bar in the corner of the room. the surface has bottles and glasses on it, so i'm half on the bar and afraid of sliding off in a heap of embarrassment. 

but then chris is using his hands to spread my thighs and when he steps between them, all thoughts other than him leave my body.

my hands grab ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pull until he chest is naked in front of me. 

at this point i'm beyond wet. i should be embarrassed considering the fact that he hasn't even touched my pussy yet, but the look on his face is pure hunger. 

he taps my thigh and lets out a command. "wider."

i press my thighs open further.

chris runs the tip of his dick up the length of my pussy. "please tell me you're on the pill."

red flags wave in my peripheral. i should stop this. i don't know him. there are worries beyond pregnancy. this man is a fucking stranger.

but instead of being smart, i nod. 

chris growls gripping the base of his cock lining it up with my more than ready entrance. the hand not on his dick runs up  my side, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple then gripping the base of my neck. 

he presses his lips against mine while pressing into me. 

his tongue shoves into my mouth and i'm filled with him. 

all i can feel his him. 

all i can taste, all i can hear, all i can smell is chris. 

i was bracing for a quick thrust. but this... this is slow.

i arch. i writhe. i moan. 

with both hands on my ass now, chris pulls me forward, so i feel all of him. he picks up his speed. pulling out, slamming in. over and over. 

his hands are everywhere now, tugging on my piercings, gripping my ass, feeling all the skin he can. 

"chris!" i cry out, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

"that's it." he moans into my mouth.

and thumb presses on my clit and i jolt in surprise. 

"oh fuck-" my head falls back.

he circles my clit, faster and faster, pressing harder and harder. 

"eyes on me mama." he demands. my eyes flutter open and find his. "good girl." his fingers don't stop.

"i'm gonna cum."

"that's right ma. cum for me."

that was the last piece of the puzzle. 

i shatter around him, shaking and convulsing.

"yes, chris. fuck! thank you. oh my god thank you-"

i'm a mess. from one fucking orgasm. 

removing his hand from my clit, chris steps back and pulls out of me, my body arching towards his, trying to keep the contact. 

he lifts me off the bar and sets me down in front of him. my legs are like jelly so i'm relieved when i hear him say "on your knees, cleo."

that fucking name. he's just took me to mars so i guess he can know my government. "my names y/n."

a smile spreads across his face as he presses a kiss to my lips and slides his had to my jaw. "on your knees, y/n."

i comply, dropping down in front of him. he drags his thumb across my lips. "open up." my mouth opens wide and allowing him to guide his cock between my lips. 

i close my mouth around him, sucking his length and it's like all his self control flies away. 

he gathers my hair into a ponytail and presses in deeper. 

"i wanna fill you up." 

please.

he pulls back and thrusts deeper into me until i feel him in the back of my throat. 

"i wanna watch my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy." 

fuck.

"i wanna cum all over your piercings."

jesus fucking christ.

"but you gotta go back to work."

WHAT?

he pulls all the way out, letting me breathe.

"let me back in." he says 

i open my mouth and hes back, deep in my throat. "that's my good fucking girl." he groans out and throws his head back. 

i let out a moan at the praise and his whole body shakes. 

"fuuuuuuuck.." his grip on my hair tightens and he looks down at me. 

he picks up the speed of his thrusts and fucks my face with so much force i have to lean back and put my weight on my hands to stable myself. 

i feel him twitch in my mouth and he goes to pull back but i wrap my hand around the back of his thigh and move my lips to his tip, sucking. his eyes cross and his load shoots into my mouth.

chris pulls me up by the ponytail and brings my lips to his in a kiss. this one was softer, but just as passionate. 

pulling aways he says "you know i have to see you again right?" 

"i'd like that." i whisper. 

"good girl."

niyah speaks 2930 words dawg. sorry i've been MIA. me and my boyfriend broke up lol. but uhhh im backkkkk

taglist: @mattslolita @mattssluttygf @muwapsturniolo @chaossturns

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week

🌍🌡️ - Climate Prophecy: The Forecast Is 100% Chance of 'Cool'

1. No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV

Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the population that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women. The HPV virus is extremely common, basically everyone comes into contact with one version or another of the virus in their lifetime.

The vaccine was given to girls only out of an abundance of caution, they were the most likely to contract cancer from the viruses, and because there was limited supply.

2. ‘Every square inch is covered in life’: the ageing oil rigs that became marine oases

Built decades ago, California’s offshore oil platforms are home to a huge diversity of marine life. According to a 2014 study, the rigs were some of the most “productive” ocean habitats in the world, a term that refers to biomass – or number of fish and other creatures and how much space they take up – per unit area.

3. Vaccinations may have prevented almost 20 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide

Vaccinations estimated to have averted 19.8 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide in their first year, according to the latest Imperial modelling study.

In the first year of the vaccination programme, 19.8 million out of a potential 31.4 million COVID-19 deaths were prevented worldwide according to estimates based on excess deaths from 185 countries and territories.

4. Global climate policy forecast predicts ‘well below 2°C’ Paris Agreement climate goals will be met

They report only a 10% probability we exceed 2°C by 2050. Temperatures are expected to peak between 1.7°C and 1.8°C, which is consistent with the “well below 2°C” objective of the Paris Agreement in Art. 2.1c.

5. Young driver fatality rates have fallen sharply in the US, helped by education, technology

Crash and fatality rates among drivers under 21 have fallen dramatically in the U.S. during the past 20 years.

Using data from 2002-2021, the report says that fatal crashes involving a young driver fell by 38%, while deaths of young drivers dropped even more, by about 45%.

6. A Virginia woman was feeling sad. Her doctor prescribed her a cat.

7. Remote workers report saving $5,000 to $10,000 a year

What value would American workers place on the privilege to work from home?

In a 2022 survey by FlexJobs, 45% of remote workers reported saving at least $5,000 a year. One in 5 reported saving $10,000 a year. The savings average out to about $6,000 a year. The poll reached 4,000 workers in July and August of last year.

Three years into the remote-work revolution, research increasingly suggests that telework is a commodity, a job descriptor worth thousands of dollars in potential savings and improved quality of life.

---

That's it for this week :)

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[foone]

She's a robot girl, an ex military model. She's got targeting computers that'd let her head shot a sesame seed at 20 klicks, her nanoservos give her the kind of strength that'd let her pick up a car with each arm, and she can hack through dozens of firewalls before she even notices they're there.

She's gotten out of that life and is trying to settle down and live a normal life, get a regular job, rent an apartment, maybe fall in love? She's a good friend and you're pretty sure she's got a bit of a crush on you.

The only thing is that her chassis is 8 inches tall. She can wear barbie clothes just fine.

[pirateprincessblog]

Daddy Chronicles

𝘾𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉! 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙉𝙏 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝘽𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝙋𝙋𝙍𝙊𝘼𝘾𝙃 𝙄��𝙉'𝙏 𝙎𝙐𝙄𝙏𝘼𝘽𝙇𝙀 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝙇𝙊𝙒 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘼𝙂𝙀 𝙊𝙁 𝟭𝟴｡

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲? ↳ Go Back ↳ Nah, I'm good

The boys are all aged up, I do not mention the exact age anywhere, so you are free to imagine whatever you want.

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳!

read for me

park seonghwa ➳ bookworm!reader, ceo!seonghwa, bestfriend'sdad!seonghwa

synopsis: best friend's father has a rather big book collection, and you are a big bookworm who has started losing touch with reality. he shows you just how real it can get away from the covers and pages.

one

two

three

in vino veritas

kim hongjoong ➳ artist!hongjoong, dilf!hongjoong

synopsis: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you.

one

player 9

jeong yunho ➳ footballplayer!yunho, coach!yunho, aunt!reader

synopsis: you always thought that your nephew's football coach was handsome, and when he invites all the parents and families to come watch him play a big match, you struggle to keep your cool while watching his clothes stick to his body and his face and muscles glistening with sweat.

one

three is a crowd

kang yeosang ➳ swimminginstructor!yeosang

synopsis: a tragic event in your childhood created an aquaphobia for you. at pool parties, beaches, and camping, you are always the one to stay out of the water. until your father finds you a swimming instructor, who solves one problem, but creates another one.

put on a show

song mingi ➳ ceo!mingi, fashiondesigner!mingi, model!reader

synopsis: your ceo is to die for. drop dead gorgeous, aged like fine wine, a figure you’d kill to have. his only problem? he might be the meanest person you’ve ever met in your life. then why are you enjoying his degrading words as he makes you take every inch he has to give you?

silver band

choi san ➳ collegeprofessor!san, student!reader

synopsis: choi san is a married man, and the hottest professor you’ve ever seen. you feel unnatural amounts of jealousy and hatred each time he opens his laptop to start the lesson, showing everyone through the projector the desktop picture of his wife while he opens the files he needs to teach. you want a taste of him so bad, but he shows zero interest towards you. or anyone else. so how will you pull this off?

white dress

choi jongho ➳ dad’sbestfriend!jongho, bride!reader

synopsis: you don’t love this man at all. he is a cheater, he hits you, he flirts with other women in front of you. what has gotten into your father’s mind and is forcing you to marry that bastard? maybe his best friend has a little more compassion and will notice your silent cries for help.

20% off next buy

jung wooyoung ➳ cashier!wooyoung, pervyneighbour!wooyoung, innocentexploring!reader

synopsis: never in your life did you see a dildo this huge. it’s so… big, so purple, and it’s staring right back at you. the cashier seems to notice your horrified face with each isle you walk down, and he can’t help but offer you help. how can he help, when even you don’t know what you’re looking for?

[junedenim]

library pictures

because it lasts longer

warnings: smut, oral (m & f), piv, nudes, etc.

word count: 5.2k

He's lost in you. Your body stretches out, lanky in form and tall—taller than him, which he supposes isn't saying much. You possess a certain quality that he hasn't seen before. Sure, there's beauty, that's undeniable. He's worked with a lot of beautiful models. Ones that have won the genetic lottery. But you have more than that.

There's little competition for your looks but the way you move, the way you gaze upon the camera, the way you made Jerry, the old bastard, laugh before you stepped in front of Alex's camera. He's never seen anyone do just that and he's worked with a lot of beautiful women.

Your hand skims up your body, sultry in action. Every way you move feels sultry like you're seducing the camera. The other girls beside you try, pushing their breasts forward to the camera showing the sexiness of the bras all the models are wearing but you lightly touch your shoulder and it's the hottest thing he's ever seen.

Alex tries his best to stick to the task at hand, looking at you through his camera's viewfinder, but it's so easy to get lost in your bent knee, so accidentally but so intentionally. Every move you make feels careless and calculated at the same time like you're trying to get a rise out of him, out of every man in the room. Singing chants to the people who see this ad, imploring them: you want to buy this lingerie because it's the closest thing you'll have of me. Alex feels he is slightly losing it but he doesn't mind it. It's so easy to take intense pleasure in this sight.

"Should we do solo shots?" Alex suggests. It wasn't in the instructions for the campaign. They wanted a group shot of all the girls in the colour variety of their lingerie sets. But Alex knows they got the shot 20 frames ago so he might as well indulge a little if they still have 45 minutes remaining.

His assistant shrugs, not that he has any say. Everyone else looks toward Alex for the decision, asserting him as the boss of the set. "You," he points, "in the white."

You point a finger at yourself just to be sure.

"Yeah. Why don't you go first?" The other girls scatter to the sidelines and you slowly move to the center mark. You're not even posing, just waiting for him to lift his camera back up, and you already look magnificent, foot beveled to the side, hands behind your back.

He looks on, not even raising the camera, just staring at the sight before him. You quirk a smile. "Take a picture. It'll last longer." You giggle at your own joke, tugging his heart down and making him fall further.

Alex does as you tell him, snapping away. You're loose and in action. He swears every frame is usable and he's never had that happen before and it'll probably never happen again. He doesn't want to move on. He wants to get every angle he can. Wants to see every inch. Feel every inch. Memorize every inch.

He doesn't want to move on but you've already hogged a decent portion of the shoot so when Jerry nudges him that they should move on, Alex nods and just says, "Who's next?"

But you don't leave. You wrap yourself in a silk robe that probably feels as soft as your skin. You sit on the sidelines, right in his periphery, impossible to ignore. He takes a picture of it and claims it to be a test shot as if he hasn't been shooting with this camera on this set for nearly an hour now.

He runs through the rest of the girls quickly with little care and little notice. He watches you as you watch the whole photoshoot. The other girls are talking or on their phones, but you're observing, which leads to your eyes eventually landing on his. You send a coy smile his way, leaning back in your chair. He attempts to hold himself in by sending a friendly smile back.

When it's a wrap, everyone moves to change and Alex works to put his equipment away. Your eyes linger on one another as if some unspoken agreement is being made. Alex packs up pretty quickly, his assistant will handle the rest so he has a goodbye to his team and heads outside.

He's thankful smoking gives him an excuse to linger outside the building, up against the brick wall as toothpick-thin models pour out of the building. He waits, taps his foot on the asphalt parking lot, and waits some more.

And then you come out in big Jackie O. sunglasses and a trench coat, already smoking a cigarette. "Join ya?" You request, your leather loathers skimming the pebbles on the ground.

"Please," Alex invites. You walk closer, standing in front of him at the wall. Your hip juts out and he wants to reach out and feel the curve of you. He's not being secretive in his stare. He knows that you know he's looking. "You're good," he compliments. He's not sure if it's for your modeling skills or your role as seductress, despite being all wrapped up now, he's still turned on just by your aura.

You flick your cigarette and tilt your head slightly. "At modeling? No, no, I'm still kind of new to this whole thing."

Alex exhales. "Could've fooled me. You had everyone's eyes in that studio."

You raise an eyebrow. "Including yours?"

Alex softly chuckles, mildly mortified. "I guess I wasn't too covert in my stare."

You grin, shaking your head. "I don't mind though. You're the photographer. You are the eye of the beholder. It's very complimentary to a model."

Gradually, you two have moved closer to one another. Your shoe hits his shoe and it's impossible it isn't intentional. "You said you're new to modeling?"

"Relatively," you answer.

"You could come back to my home studio, I'll take a few photos of you that you can add to your portfolio. If you want," Alex offers. His eyes are clearly telling a different story as he looks at you from top to bottom salaciously.

You nod slowly, a sly smirk spreading across your face. "Okay."

He drops his cigarette and plucks yours from between your fingers, joining his on the ground.

*

You wait behind him as he unlocks the front door. His place is bare just like you had imagined. There's little in the kitchen and he doesn't own a television. He has a shelf of books but it looks covered in dust. He guides you, up a small set of stairs and past his bedroom to his home studio.

Compared to the rest, it's a mess. There are various sets of lights pushed to the side of the room. He desperately needs more shelf space as his cameras and lenses overtake the room. There's a small grey backdrop, but it's been partially rolled up. He has a makeshift darkroom to the side, which seems to have been designed to be the guest bathroom, but his stuff has overtaken it.

Alex seems to go right to work as he picks up a camera and instructs you, "You can put your stuff over there," pointing to a small chair in the corner of the room. You place your bag down and throw your coat over the back of the chair.

"Is what I'm wearing fine?" You ask, dressed in a black long sleeve and jeans. You feel nervous under his gaze, it's become more critical as he holds a camera in his hands than it was outside.

But he smirks and nods. "For now." He directs you again, pointing over to the messed-up grey backdrop, "Stand over there."

He fiddles with the camera and you realize it's film compared to the digital you used for the ad campaign. "Do you usually shoot in film?" You ask.

Alex chuckles, amused for some reason. "Suppose I'm pretentious in that way. I like the idea of having no idea what you're taking until you develop it otherwise we'd be here all day with how overcritical I get." He runs a hand through his hair and he seems stressed by even the idea of shooting digitally.

"You seemed fine back at the studio," you tell him.

"I had a good model." The compliment gets you smiling and he snaps a picture before you're even ready for it. "You're a natural, you know."

You shrug. "I've never had any work done."

He throws his head back in laughter. "You know how fucking cute you are?" He snaps another photo. "I feel like I could stand here all day and I'd never catch a bad shot. The way you move your body is like art. Like I'm watching Venus de Milo in action."

"Does that mean I have no arms?"

Alex laughs again. "Fine. The Birth of Venus or something then, some Botticelli painting in the flesh."

"Does that mean I should be naked?"

He stops and drops the camera to his shoulders, revealing his eyes, blazed and focused. "I won't stop you."

You're slow-moving and sensual as you reach the bottom of your shirt, tugging the shirt off, throwing it off somewhere in the vicinity of the chair. Your bra—different from the one from the photoshoot—is sheer pink, giving thin exposure to your nipples. He snaps away quickly, not even looking at the viewfinder, staring straight on at you.

You slip your shoes off and start to unbutton your jeans when he holds his hand out. "Wait," he commands, "just like this for a second."

"Okay." The idea of being captured half-dressed at one time would have felt foreign but you're used to being shot in much less, although, it still feels weird to be considered hot. To have Alex's voice boom across the room to stay dressed and not strip down to your panties. To be seen as desirable in your jeans as you did in lingerie.

"Bend down." You follow his command, squatting down, and he walks forward, hovering above you. "Look up." Your eyes stare straight into the lens up into his soul. He snaps two photos of your eyes piercing into him.

You take action, reaching up, tugging on the belt loops of his jeans. He's both choked up, blood rushing by the movement, and unable to take enough pictures of it. You're below him, practically on the ground, yet, dominant and controlling, completely taking him over and holding him in your grasp, smashing him like berries in between your fingers.

"Hold still," he orders.

"Haven't you gotten enough photos?" You argue, eager for more.

He rests the camera at his side, taking a deep breath. "No, I'm just pretty sure if you move anymore I'm gonna cream my pants."

"I can tell." You rub a hand over the hardness formed in his pants.

He jolts back. "Fuck, you can't do that to me." He chuckles timidly and you can't help but join him, giggling with pride.

You reach out, curling around his belt loop again, and yanking him back to you. "Come on. You can make a photo essay out of it. Call it: 'How to Give a Blowjob 101.'"

"Fuck, okay, but I gotta put the camera down or else I'll drop it." He takes one more photo of you, gazing up, bottom lip between your teeth, before placing it on the floor.

You're fast. He undoes his belt and you pull down his zipper, reaching in and pulling him out. You stare up at him and he stares right back. You take him around your lips and Alex immediately throws his head back, eyes shut, a groan escaping his lips.

Alex reaches down, fingers threading through your hair, pushing you down onto him. You engulf him completely, your nose rubbing up against his stomach, choking on him. He lets go and you pull yourself off of him, salvia covering your lips. Your hand continues the work, rubbing him teasingly. You play with the head, which really seems to make him go wild as he mutters, "Fuck," and is unable to make eye contact with you.

You take him back in your mouth, your tongue licking at the head. He grabs a chunk of your hair, holding it tight in his grasp to simply have something to hold onto. He juts his hips toward you, shoving his cock deeper down your throat. It's easy to tell he's getting close by the rough pattern he's handling things, unintentionally forcing himself deeper into you.

He's moaning and his grip tightens even more. "Swallow it," he tells you as he pushes you closer and closer to him. He pushes you down one more time before erupting in your mouth and you take it completely, every drop. "Good, good." He pats your head, exasperated.

Alex catches his breath and then bends down to collect the camera. "Take your jeans off now," he says and raises his camera.

"You first," you counter, "equal opportunity." He gives a crooked smile before pushing his jeans off, leaving him in his underwear and shirt. He goes to shoot again and you instruct him, "And your shirt."

"Alright." He takes his shirt off, leaving both of you nearly bare. "Now, jeans. Off."

You stand with your back to him and shuffle out of your jeans. You're slow, as always, intentional in each movement, pulling him into your trap and capturing him. You kick them off to the side and look over your shoulder, he clicks away.

You reach up to your bra's straps, pulling them down. "Bra now?"

He nods. "Just like you did with the jeans. Taunt me."

"Is that some kink you have?" You obey and pull the straps off your arms first.

"I'm taking photos of you undressing, what do you think my kink is?"

You laugh and reach behind yourself, unclasping it, and just, carefully, slowly, pulling it off your body. "That good?"

Alex lacks a vocal response. He just nods.

Your hands tempt him, caressing your own body, pulling on the hemline of your panties. You look at him, questioning the removal, awaiting his response. He stays silent though, bending down, taking a picture of you from below, making you look even taller, towering on all the species on Mother Earth.

"You gonna go down on me now?" You ask.

He drops the camera into his lap. "Yeah, but take them off first." He pulls the camera back up.

You drop one side off your hips, then the other side, shuffling it down before it's at your feet, he takes another picture, you completely bare with your underwear at your feet before he puts the camera down and moves completely under you.

Every touch is teasing, not giving everything up at once. He touches you, runs his fingers through the folds making you shiver. Your spine feels tingles spread up it and you find it hard to stand as his mouth goes on you. Every movement eats away at you, your footing unsteady. His nails dig into your thighs holding you against him. You can’t help grinding against him, but he seems to like that if the satisfied sounds he makes are anything to go by.

He fucks you with his tongue, stroking your clit, teasing it, tugging it, pulling a string of vulgarities from your lips. “God,” you gasp, tugging on his hair, “higher,” and he shifts, accommodating, devouring and he doesn’t let you go until you've ridden out every wave, falling over him. Everything is overwhelming and unbearable but you're dying for more.

"Sit down," he directs you, pointing at the floor beneath you.

You listen, shaky in your movement, but he helps, taking your hand and carefully you kneel down onto the floor. "This good?"

Alex chuckles. "Whatever makes you comfortable. Sit back, we're not taking pictures anymore."

"You can if you want," you offer, completely bare, sopping in every aspect, your breath still laboured.

"Not unless you want to make a sex tape."

"Oh," you giggle, "I'll stick with eroticism photography."

"Fair enough." He smiles and it makes you buzz. "You'll be my pin-up girl."

You lift an eyebrow. "Your pin-up?"

Alex moves closer to you, hovering in front of your lips. "Yeah." His hand touches the small of your back, tingles running up your spine. "Lay back."

You do as he says, but reach up, rounding your arms around his neck and tugging him down with you, kissing him harshly. His body lays on top of you, his lips fight back violently. His skin is warm against you and you hold tight to keep his skin atop yours.

He reaches down in between your two bodies and lines his cock up, he pushes in a little then all at once. He's forceful and you're already hot and heavy in your breathing, sharing and mixing with one another. His hands move down, pinching a nipple on the way, and it's tremble-inducing.

You push up, rolling him onto his back. He watches you in awe, the way you arch your chest and throws your head back as you begin to ride him, your entire body moving rhythmically just like when he was photographing you. You have such grace in a moment that's so explicitly dirty. He is so captivated that you direct him, grabbing his arms and placing his hands on your hips, encouraging him to hold you and to speed up the pace if he wants.

And Alex does want. He wants to see you thrash and shake on top of him. He grabs your waist, his thumbs press into your hip bones to stall you, and then he's thrusting up into you, meeting your rocking hips harshly, pushing his cock as deep into you as he can get it.

You whine and bite down on your bottom lip to prevent moaning whimpers, and bucks your hips wildly, your skin slapping loudly against his as your bodies meet, connecting roughly in the most intimate way imaginable. Alex gains control of his movements, how his cock hits that spot deep inside of you so effortlessly. How quickly he's pushing you to the edge.

You reach down to pull one of his hands off your hip and bring it up to your chest, pressing it against one of your boobs and leaving it there, knowing he'll understand what to do. He cups your breast as he thrusts into your, massaging the mound before pinching your erect nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it roughly as you bounce on top of him. You pant out and arch into his touch, unable to stop yourself.

You start to clench around him and you know you're getting closer and closer. He releases the boob he'd been grabbing and moves his hand down, pushing his fingers up against your clit making it nearly impossible to keep breathing. You're crashing, grabbing his shoulders to not completely fall over on top of him but he doesn't let up, keeps pounding up into you and flicking away at you.

Your head falls forward, your hair curtaining around you as you convulse. His eyes close and sucks in a deep breath. He wraps his arms around your back and he flips you over. Alex just stays there a minute, gazing down at you, brushing the stray hairs off your sweaty forehead before he leans down interrupting the roughness by kissing you sweetly.

You're still kissing when Alex starts to move his hips, gently pumping into you, pushing into you shallowly. Your wrap your legs around his waist and your heels dig into his ass, pulling him closer into you. He starts to speed up, his thrusts getting longer and harder, each time he thrusts. He kisses you again through it, his lips slipping and sliding over your as your bodies intertwine. He rests his arm on the sides of your head, getting a better position as he starts to push his cock into you, hitting harder and harder each time.

"I'm gonna come," he whispers to her, nuzzling his nose with yours as his hips start to get frantic.

"Me too," you mumble, tightening around him again.

"Fuck, okay." He sharpens his thrusts, determined to get you off before him.

He moves quickly, plays all the same tricks again, brushes away at your clit again, making your engulf him, whining and moaning. You scrap your nails down on him, arching right into him, chest-to-chest, coming uncontrollably.

Alex is ready to follow soon after, pulling out, giving himself a few pumps before he comes onto your stomach. He takes a few moments to collect himself before lying down beside you, heavy breathing in sync with one another.

“I’ve never done it on the floor before,” you say.

He chuckles, throwing his arm over his forehead, nestling his head in the crook of his elbow. “Really?”

You shake your head, smiling, amused by his laughter. “I’ve only ever done it in a bed.”

“Really?” He turns his head over, looking over at you.

You shrug, resting your hands on your stomach. “Do I strike you as some sexual adventurous being?”

He muffles his laugh. “I mean, yeah. You don’t have to be sexually adventurous to do it on the floor. You’re telling me you’ve never done it in the shower.”

“I’ve never fucked in the shower but, you know, orally.”

He rolls over onto his side. His hand reaches out grazing around your belly button. “Let me fuck you in the shower.”

“Now?” You question, still setting your heartbeat to a normal pace.

He closes in on you. His hot breath radiating down on your vulnerable skin. “Yeah, come on, let me fuck you in the shower.”

“Gimme a minute.” You push him back down onto his back but gaze over at him, focused on the angle of his jaw as he swallows, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. “What about you? You’ve done it on the floor before?”

Alex nods. “Yeah. Never in here.” Understandably so. The floors are hard on your backs and if the sex wasn't so good it would have been a pain the whole time.

You lay on your stomach, resting your head on your folded arms beneath you. “Well, don’t I feel special?”

“You should. You are.” He reaches out, petting back your hair. His fingernails scratch down, pull hairs behind your ear, and lightly tug on your earlobe.

You roll your eyes. “Come on, how many women have you photographed in here?”

“A lot. Never fucked one in here.”

Fascinated, you ask, “You’re a photographer and you’ve never fucked a model?”

“Never said that. But it’s not a habit.” You don't mind, he's naked with you now and not them.

“What did your last girlfriend do?” He remains silent, lips sealed. “She was a model!”

He laughs at your enthusiasm. “In my defense, I never worked with her. We met through friends.”

Alex places his hand down on your back, rubbing up and down the spine so softly. “What about you? This a habit for you?”

“My ex-boyfriend used to take pictures of me, but he was a stockbroker.”

“How grandiloquent.” His language makes you want him more. Who knew big words could be such a turn on?

“How boring," you countered. All those dull men before...

“No kidding," he quips, "you never fucked on the floor.”

“Well, you never fucked on the floor in here.”

He rolls over again, inching over you. His face right down beside you as he pleads, “Then let me fuck you in the shower.”

You sigh, “Okay.”

*

It's almost terrifying how comfortable you become with one another. Well, if Alex didn't take nude photographs of you and have sex with you within hours of knowing each other, however, he starts having you over more and more and not just for sex and photos, although that does often occupy your time. There are the dinners, the movies, and meeting his friends. 

And if you didn't already want to be with him all the time as a boyfriend, he's a great not-for-hire publicist, talking you up to his friends, who are photographers, company owners, and casting agents. He talks about modeling like it's the greatest art form (that might have something to do with him being a photographer, but he insists otherwise) and he's always proper with his words, never talking of sexiness or desirability. His love for it is always nestled in the words of critique: "beautiful arches" "delicate lines" or "the way her face catches the light." It makes you laugh.

One morning, after you've slept over, and he's needy and doesn't want to part, you accompany him to a gig. It's some high fashion shoot and you walk in your clothes from yesterday and one of his jackets carrying his equipment as he sets it up. 

An older woman with a thick posh English accent approaches you, asking, "And who are you?"

You extend your arm out, pointing to Alex, telling her, "The magician's assistant." Alex is all agrin over this and will have you refer to him as the magician several times. You'll laugh at him every time. 

When you walk over, he tugs you into him, arm wrapped around your hips. "We should have you in a costume next time."

You roll your eyes and pull away from him, placing the equipment down on a table. "I think you prefer me in a lack of attire."

Alex tilts his head side-to-side. "Fair enough. I'm liking you in my jacket though."

You slide your hands in the pockets. "It's very cozy."

He gestures to the set in front of you. "I need a couple test shots. Why don't you?"

"And have the scary woman yell at me again?"

"You're the magician's assistant. Help me work my magic."

You do what he tells you, not without saying, "You're corny, you know that?"

"You'll love it. You do love it." You fake annoyance but the smile across your cheeks tells a different story. He gets you giggling with all this corniness and dad jokes galore. The photos come out all happy and commercial compared to the serious haute modeling that follows but Alex says they're his favourite from the day. You roll your eyes, but the smile still tugs on you.

*

"Come back to bed," you tell Alex. 

He stays still, towering above you, camera in hand. It's early in the morning, freshly awoken, still naked from last night's activities. "I have to take a picture. How can anyone not want to take photos of you all the time?"

You sit up, the sheet kicked off you, fully exposed. "Well, usually, they like to touch the real thing, especially when it's their girlfriend giving you full range."

He tosses his head back, dropping the camera over his junk. "You know just what to say to get me hard."

You giggle, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging on it. "Don't fool me with your morning wood."

Alex tosses back, "Who do you think gave me the morning wood?"

"Well, why aren't you giving it to me?" You lean back, pulling him over you, and the time to resist has fallen as he places the camera down on the bedside table and his lips on you. 

You reach down, picking up his hard cock, and guide to your pussy. He reaches down and runs his tip through your wet folds teasingly. "God, you feel good already."

"It gets even better inside," you urge him, desperate for him to enter you. He has you shuddering as he rubs his cockhead against your aching clit. You shiver and Alex moves his cock back toward your entrance, positioning the tip against your hole and teasing you, wanting you to beg. "Please."

He finally pushes you. "Jesus," Alex groans as he’s covered in your warmth. He pushes further, you taking more of his length. He's buried to the bottom of you, your thighs flush together as you both take a moment to gather your bearings and get used to this first feeling of the morning.

Alex swallows thickly and shifts his hips, falling just a little bit heavier onto you. He slowly starts to rock his hips against you. You grip his waist tight, wrapping your legs around him, countering his rhythm, pushing him into you. His thumbs leave imprints on your skin, guiding you up and back from him. He doesn't try to control you, though, just helps pick up speed as you get into a rhythm together. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

"You will," you moan, placing your palms flat against his back to have something to grip onto.

Alex picks up the pace again, his hips thrusting into you hard, making sure you feel him deeply. He hits that spot dead on, and then you're falling apart, coming around him, your walls tightening and gripping his shaft as your thighs shake, the orgasm overtaking you. 

"Oh, god," you moan, reaching up and gripping his hair to have some idea of an earthly possession.

His eyes are glued to your face, watching in astonishment every time you come around his cock. His hands help to hold himself inside you, his skin tingling. Your pussy throbs and vibrates around his cock, and he curls his toes, so close, wanting to hold on. You're both sweaty, completely spent as he ruts into you, his pumping getting a bit sloppy as he gets closer to the edge.

Alex leans back and hooks his arms under your thighs, and pulls you closer, tilting your body closer to each of his hits. It feels just right, bursts of light exploding behind his eyes as he comes into you. His cock swells against the vice grip you have on it before he shoots his cum deep inside you. You throb together. "Fuck," he groans, his voice straining and cracking. 

He stays inside of you, not wanting anything to leak. You're pressed up against each other like he's stamping you down like a wax seal and you're melting to the corners of him. You cradle his head, resting in the crook of your neck. He feels so good and he is so good. You cling to him.

Alex raises his head slightly, just to make eye contact. “I don’t want to move.”

“Then don’t,” you counter.

“You aren’t uncomfortable?”

You shake your head. “Not right now.”

“I’m not too heavy?”

You shake your head again. “No.” He rests back down, tired like he didn’t just get a full night’s sleep. “I’ll have to leave soon.”

“No,” he whines, his grip on your arms tightening. “It’s my day with you.”

“I’ll come back later tonight,” you promise, combing your fingers through his hair.

He groans in your neck. The vibrations rumble your insides. “I think you should ditch it and hang out with me all day. I’ll take just as many pictures.”

“You’re not paying me.”

“Isn’t my lovemaking paying enough?”

You laugh and then you lie smushed like that for just a little longer. 

*

a/n: all photography & model knowledge comes from america's next top model, which i do believe to be the top authority on things.

[wildeoscars]

Excerpts from 20 Questions: Eric Bogosian

Playboy, July 1991

The raging monologist who gave us “talk radio” raps about street life, horny guys and the redemptive joys of gardening.

Playboy: Your characters plead, cajole, threaten, offer skewed insights, and exhibit paranoia. Is your stage act a cry for help?

Bogosian: I need to solve my own personal problems. I know nowhere to look other than to myself, so I look at my own questionable traits. And then I personify them in a character. Early in my career, I spent a lot of time on things that had to do with sex, because I wanted to have better relationships with women. FunHouse was about pure, unadulterated fear, because at that point, I was just freaked out. My wife, Joann, and I were impoverished; we lived in this tiny apartment. Drinking in America, written when I became more successful, was about a hunger for power and success. Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll asks, How do you live when all you know how to do is party?

Playboy: You honed your performance style in New York’s downtown art scene. Was it easier and cheaper than enrolling in drama school?

Bogosian: The downtown scene allowed me to walk out on stage every night and say and do whatever I wanted. I would go out and insult the shit out of the audience. There were nights when I took all my clothes off. I had fights with the audience. The best thing about the scene was that we were making our work and having a good time entertaining one another. I would perform in front of audiences that were guaranteed smart and hip. They didn’t care whether or not I was doing something right, like some acting teacher had taught me. They would tell me whether or not they got it. I was performing loud, nasty, insulting stuff.

Playboy: Does The Stud, your monolog about one man’s extraordinary endowment, reflect your own desire for a larger penis?

Bogosian: I was taking a pee one day and I looked down and wished I had an eight-inch dick. You’re going to quote me on that. Don’t quote me on that. It’s part of men’s fascination with themselves. I wanted to take something out of the back room of male mentality and stick it right out in front of everybody. The Stud is one of my oldest pieces. Doing things about giant dicks is not that far out at the moment. There are probably twenty comics out there doing dick things. But when I started ten years ago, it was extremely embarrassing for men in the audience; they’d sit there with their hands folded over their crotches, not laughing, and the women would be laughing their guts out and the men would be getting angry. I thought it was great stuff going on between people in the theater.

Playboy: Horny guys populate your monologs. Do you claim special knowledge of America’s testosterone level?

Bogosian: I’m very average in what I want. And my desires point me towards centerfold models as the ultimate, the ultimate, the ultimate. The ultimate accomplishment in my sexual life would be to ball a centerfold model. For a pretty girl with large breasts to be the object of delight to millions of red-blooded American men is perfectly normal. Nothing wrong with that. Guys get horny and need to focus on something. Large breasts are great. A large breast is a lovely thing at a particular moment. But as I become old and wise, I think the really important thing is being oriented towards something and understanding that you don’t necessarily have to have the thing to enjoy the thing. I happen to be in love with a woman who has medium-sized breasts.

Playboy: You are synonymous with the downtown New York scene. Do you dream crossover dreams?

Bogosian: At this time, I don’t think I’m going to show up as some kind of box office attraction. But you never know. I’d like to be a star. There’s always the challenge, especially when you’re surrounded by agents and producers, to see if you can really catch the gold ring. Can I fill Madison Square Garden? Can I go on Johnny and do a killer five minutes? I can’t imagine getting on Letterman, people would watch and say they knew what I was doing: This guy plays thugs from New Jersey and subway panhandlers. They wouldn’t see the irony; it would be like I’m just making cruel fun on these guys. I need an audience to be with me for a little while.

Playboy: You’ve bought a house in New Jersey. Will crab grass begin to crop up in your monologs?

Bogosian: It has already. I did a monolog called Normal Guy. I like gardening a lot. Gardening gets me real mellow. I grow twenty-five kinds of vegetables, and when I’m lucky, like last summer, a lot of things come up very nicely. I grow lettuce and beets and carrots and different varieties of cucumbers. I grow different varieties of corn and tomatoes and squash and pumpkins and peppers and okra and all kinds of neat stuff. And early in August, you get to a point where everything you’re eating that night at dinner was grown in your own garden. That’s nice. However, when you garden, you find out that in order to get your vegetables to look good, you have to kill everything within a hundred yards: animals, plants, and little insects. And you realize that after you do all that, you still end up with this gnarled little carrot. Then you go to the supermarket and you get this perfect carrot and you wonder, What are they killing to make these?

Playboy: One of your characters defines being civilized as sitting on a couch with a babe, watching TV, eating clam dip on a ripple potato chip, smoking joints, snorting coke–and swilling bourbon, beer and champagne. What’s your vision of the civilized life?

Bogosian: In New Jersey, we have a fireplace and we’re very, very civilized. I’m sitting on the couch and the fire is going and snow is falling outside and I’m reading a pulp novel by Stephen King. Being over thirty-five, there’s no question that there is a vibe in me that’s moving toward a Stratolounger with a bowl of potato chips and a cable TV with a channel selector. I will fight that tooth and nail. It scares me. I like middle-class life. I don’t think it’s a sin to be middle class. I don’t have to be mainstream to be comfortable. I’ve spent time with Frank Zappa, and he has a very normal, middle-class existence. He’s a daddy and has a whole family and they have pizza for lunch and they have pets and it’s a very normal life. But he’s not mainstream and never will be.

[chlmtsdoll]

hii I love ur stuff I have a request for reader getting her dream come true come to life which is modeling for alo like from your second fic !!

love u !!

You’re too kind 🥹 ily 🤍 this was supposed to be short n sweet but then I just couldn’t stop ! I decided instead of a blurb it’ll be part three to this series so thank u for the idea !! I hope you enjoy <3

PUSH YOU TO THE LIMITS

౨ৎ Pairing: Art Donaldson/Tashi Duncan x ballerina!reader

౨ৎ Summary: finally your dream of modeling for active wear besides your ideal model differences has come true, but the adoration and attention you pull leaves Art and Tashi wanting you just for themselves

౨ৎ Word count: 4k

౨ৎ Warnings: smut !, p in v (unprotected sex), oral (m) reviving, fingering, voyeurism, no use of y/n, sugar!baby reader, age gap (reader early 20’s), Art and Tashi dilf/milf age, lots of pinning, teasing, eventual filth, petite!reader, edging, praise and some degradation kink, pet names

౨ৎ part one | two | four

You couldn’t believe it, you finally made it.

Here in Florence. On your first modeling contract for Alo, you’d only dreamed of the day under a week ago.

You were bubbling with excitement from within, your perfectly manicured nails painted in a dainty French tip dug into the your skin of your wrists as you watched the sights beyond the SUV you were being driven in. You nibbled on your bottom lip to subtle the smile you just couldn’t hide away. It felt like you’ve completed life when it was all just beginning. And Tashi couldn’t have been more right, all the hard work you put in on your own, was worth the pay off.

You fidgeted with the sleeves of your cardigan in anticipation as you passed over a bridge, beautiful monument of the city ahead of you. Your cheeks heating up behind the glass of your window again in thrill, you then felt a warm hand set on your thigh.

“Are you cold, love ? Or is it too hot in here ?” Arts tone was gentle as he noticed your state, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile as his blue eyes met your glance.

“Could we get the ac down some ?” Tashi asked the driver as she hadn’t looked up from whatever paperwork she’d been examining in her lap.

“No, no. I’m fine.” You reassured with gratitude in your expression when you finally turned from your personal sight seeing to face the couple. “I’m just- so astounded. I can’t believe I’m here.”

“Well start to believe it. From ballerina, to tennis player.. to model.” Art had gave you an encouraging grin. “You’re unstoppable you know ?”

You couldn’t help but fall bashful under his words, flustering up all over again as you giggled coyly.

You were determined. Something you learned early on in your ballet days of always keeping your mindset forward and eyes on the prize. You hugged your legs to your chest as Art played with the ends of your softly kept hair.

You were over the moon by the fact Art wasn’t too busy with tennis that he’s able to accompany you and Tashi on your work trip. His wife encouraged he say back to rest up during his off season, but he insisted he’d be by his little ballerina gone model on her first job. It was a big moment.

“Ooh… can we stop and get pastries ?” You asked as you all passed by some of the most beautiful cafe’s you’d ever seen, eyes wide and almost drooling as you watched through the glass like a child.

“Later. They want you there early. We don’t even have much time to stop by the hotel.” Tashi replied as she finally brought her attention away from her work to glance out the window briefly, and Art just admired the way you looked at the environment like it was heaven. Always taken away by your joyous innocence for everything new around you.

You were adorable in his eyes.

Finally arriving, it was even more face paced than you anticipated. You were in hair and makeup as soon as you all had gotten inside the upscale building and your eyes tried to take in every inch of overly eloquent wainscotting that linned the walls as they could.

You couldn’t help but be ruled by intrigue any time you stepped foot in a new jaw dropping place with Art and Tashi. And soon enough there were people all around your tiny figure, trying to match up your foundation shade perfectly to your luminescent skin. Products being put into your loose locks to make it bounce and flow effortlessly for the cameras.

Tashi had rushed with part of the campaign team to run over your looks with a couple of stylists standby while Art stayed with you. Viewing as they made you look beyond picture perfect, which he would digress because you were everything above heavenly just as.

Before you knew it, you were dressed and ready in your first outfit on set. The fluorescent lights being adjusted to warm tones that made your skin glow in the five different lenses surrounding you.

Art and Tashi had only been a couple feet away as they observed from behind the cameras and rile of people all trying to capture you.

They caught sight of ever way your peachy yet plump lips sat as someone adjusted your gloss. Round doe eyes raised to the celling as they ran a camera test for you to settle comfortably. Your hair teased in the perfect way that made you look astonishingly elegant all while staying true to athletic.

You were everything above angelic in the couples eyes as your silhouette glowed. To everyone really.

No one on that set could take their staring eyes away from the way you naturally fell into posing. Having kept in mind when Tashi ran by you everything she picked up in her days of modeling, working fast but making sure to sell what you had been given. For the flawless way to grab the audience, make sure to tilt your head away from the camera just enough to dominate the spotlight.

And how you did just that in more.

Tashi rested a elbow in her hand as she viewed your stretches and high lounges when you twirled to let the camera capture you gracefully, her fingertip running over her tinted lips in thought, or more hesitation, as she waited for the moment to give you any notes. But as more time passed she just had to sit back and watch. You were leisurely making shot after shot for the crew of people snapping you.

The cameras adored your aura.

“She’s a fucking natural.” Art murmurs to Tashi as he stood by to observe the light that was you.

“Five two couldn’t stop her if she was turned down by the biggest company in the world.” The woman commented and Art let out a chuckle in agreement, they both couldn’t help but be in awe.

And when you had stood to take a break for a moment, you shot the couple a honeyed little grin, sweetness pouring off of you, magnifying them like magic or something. You watched as Tashi stood up straighter in her chair and Art’s tongue darted out just shortly to wet his lip when you floated out of the back rooms with new attire.

Soft stretchy grey fabric stuck to the curves of your skin just snug as you made the leggings and sports bra set you wore look like it should be worth millions.

“Fuck,” Art cursed out breathily at the sight. Your legs looking longer and even more toned than ever now, you tried to act like you didn’t notice the way everyone’s demeanor changed when you walked back in the the room and entirely filled up space liked you’d been some higher being.

All you could think is they just wanted more of you.

Your blush soft but prominent as you started to pick up on exactly what you had put down. Sudden twist in the rapture.

Tashi took a swallow at the saliva forming in her mouth, the woman noted one of the directors come up to adjust the way you posed there waiting in obedience. Fidgeting with her rings. They came up to whisper in your ear, and she tried to see her very best over cameras as you nodded.

She noticed a hand going straight to your inner thigh as they tilted you in a soft Arabesque.

Being so used to being propped and toyed with till perfection from the ballet. It was like second nature for you being the muse. And you couldn’t quite deny the fact that you even enjoyed the likeness of being a doll on display for everyone’s amusement.

Something about it felt accommodating to you. Even now, with the way Art had been eyeing your posture down. lips slightly agape as he sucked in a breath to chew at his knuckle briefly in the sight of the way your ass made shape of the glorious leggings, your chest was upturned just at the right degree for his viewing. It sucked in a breath that could of inaccurately been a potential growl.

Your lips twitched as you tried not to let a sly smile take upon your lips. You were still being posed with hands gliding all over your body like molding work while Tashi and Art fought god’s gracious battle not to pull you off of that set.

It all kind of felt like a game to you. A fun little way of showing them they weren’t the only two who wanted you anymore.

Now, you were their craft that could be easily taken and made for others to touch at any given moment if you let them. Turned into an absolute masterpiece of what they created of you from the bottom, now rising to the top.

Quickly as they could have seen it coming, you were profitable it was clear, more beautiful, talented and ambitious than ever. Determined to get everyone to see you shine.

That thought absolutely mortified Tashi more than she anticipated.

An ache started to form deep within the former tennis player as she recognized the glint in your eye. A new spark of power that you stolen over the room. And for the first time in a while, fear had really been trying to break her overbearing wall of calm and collect.

She narrowed her eyes over at Art, he had glanced back at his wife in exchange of some other kind of language you hadn’t fully figured out yet. But they were completely knowing of what had just went up.

Usually having control over whatever happened in width of everything you were — this was the first time they weren’t behind the wheel, and everything about that terrified them.

The expansion of what you could become.

When the shoot with Alo had been a full out completion of shots of you just spoiling the cameras with your allure, you rued the moment when you’d come down from the high. The glamour of it all might of been too much for your little head and small former ballerina background to handle.

“Do you think you’ll spread out to more than just athletics ? Do a- I don’t know, Vogue cover or something ? You could.”

Your high pitched squeal bounced off the bathroom’s enclosure as you’d nearly jumped from the bathtub you had been basking in, hands going to reach for Arts when his words were exactly what made you tick. You’d even splashed some of your bath water on him and he couldn’t help but let out a loud laughing at your reaction, making you giggle along.

“Oh my god ! Could you imagine ? Like really.. me. On the cover of Vogue. No way, no way-” your eyelashes now bare and softly coated in the mist of the steaming bath water. Art grinned at the way you leaned on the side of the tub into his warmth, his own finger trailed through the bubbles surrounding you while he sat just above the water.

Smile plastered to the curve of your lips that was all too pretty for him.

Tashi hadn’t said much of a word to the two of you since you’d all been back at the hotel, but overhearing your conversation with her husband as she readied a towel from the sink area made the thread unravel.

“You love it don’t you ?” Her tone smoky where you couldn’t tell if it was genuine wonder or coming from a place of knowing. It was never clear when it came to the enticing woman. “Eyes not getting enough of you, preforming for everyone in the room as a collective but specifically to haunt each individual differently, hm ?”

Both you and Art were directed to her lean body standing by the tap, fingers tugged at the cuff of her simple cream colored sweater as her eyes locked on you. The towel resting in her hands stretched for your entry.

“Come.”

You rose from the tub beneath you at her word, droplets of water ran down your naked body as you stood and faced the cold air without hesitation. Pruning hands covered your chest and Art rose to help you step out from the bath.

It was nothing for the drips of water to meet the floor as you glided your way to Tashi. She wrapped you up snug in the balmy cloth, examining the way you turned for her to dry you off smooth and in an unhurried manner. You couldn’t help but think about the coldness that probably bored her hands from underneath the towel and the way it would feel to come in contact with your skin right then.

And just when you let your mind wander her flush finger just missed your bareness as it crept to lift your chin so you’d meet her eye-line. You swallowed quickly as you searched her brown peering into yours and your hands only instinctively gripped the hem of your cover up, she filled your senses up ever so quickly.

“I don’t want you forgetting who made you, where you belong.”

“I won’t. I couldn’t.” You were stunned you didn’t stutter from the way Tashi’s free hand has been briefing the completion of your exposed thigh. Yet you never looked away from her entrance, Arts eyes had dropped from where your lips had been so close to one another, to the way Tashi pushed on your towel to reveal harden nipples against glass like skin.

“You don’t act like it. You act like you want to be touched, so badly. Yearning for it in everything you do, from anyone.. you’re that desperate for it you don’t even think twice to hide it.” Tashi spoke sharply down to you and your bottom lip sunk between your teeth as her fingertips only made soft slow circles around your sensitive area just by your core.

You put up a battle not to let a gentle nose escape your lips.

“No,” you croaked out with uncertainty. Your hand going to reach the counter giving leverage to you as Tashi made one in your space.

“Yeah.” Her mouth went to grade the tender lobe of your ear, “I think you need to be reminded who you belong to. Get those whore thoughts out of your mind before they get you in trouble..”

You only whined out breathily before a yelp came from you as Tashi pinched down on the meat of your inner thigh and it stung, sending bolts throughout your body, but quickly soothed by the way the woman’s slender fingers found your slit and grazed the wetness just settled around your pussy.

“Spread those legs for us, pretty.” Tashi made sure she hoisted you up on the counter, you were light as a feather to her hands and she made sure to push your legs wide so you were on display for her and Arts sight only. Your chest heaved as your heart race increased as you didn’t know what would happen in response. Was she upset ? Pleased ?

You felt Arts presence embark you as his big hands went to push a few strands of hair from your delicate face that had gone up in temperature rather quickly. The way Tashi’s middle finger went to toy with your clit made you hiss,

“You’re just our little thing aren’t you ? You’re ours. So sweet for us on display. Say it.” Tashi had been staring you down, eyes burning into the way your expression scrunched up with exhilaration as her fingers found their place stroking your cunt, your head might as well been done with how light it was getting from the tangency being all too much.

“I’m yours, I’m- - mm, yours” you whimpered out as your mind went cloudy from Tashi’s soft circles around your heat and freehand gripping your thigh to stay nice and spread. Your eyes watched the way Art licked his lips slow, the blonde also holding you with grace as your sputtering noises filled his ears.

You couldn’t help but peer into his blues, asking, begging, needing his touch too. You wanted it bad.

You craved it.

Tashi had picked up on it like anything else, her breath hitched softly as you drew closer to the way he watched you trip up on your words around the way her digits play with you, just gripping his arm like a safety as you dripped with wetness that coated the womans fingers.

“You want to ride his cock don’t you, baby ?” Tashi cooed at the way you eyed her husband, knowing all the dirty ways you’d been thinking right then of what he could do to your poor little body.

All you could do was nod your head, damp curls bracing your shoulders and a soft hum came from you, Art had leaned a kiss to your neck smoothly.

“Gotta use your words, babydoll.”

Your eyes had fluttered shut and your body practically jolted off the counter when his caress braced your skin again. Making your little whimpers turn into a ordeal of moans, and you could of sworn you saw Tashi’s lips twitch into a surreal but small grin.

“Yes. Yes, I want to,” you panted out before losing the blondes touch once again as he backed away from your shape. He ended up sunken on the suave couches that were in the center of the lux bedroom, just outside of the bathroom.

You could see him sit back on the seat, manspread and arm lounging it as his finger tapped in calm but certain anticipation of when Tashi had been done with you.

His pupils dialed and filled up with sudden lust that couldn’t be tamed any other way but sinking into the sweetness of his blossom like girl. You.

And you felt your legs snap shut, pulsing with need as your wide submissive eyes couldn’t look away from the man now. Want for him to fill you the brim took you over completely.

Tashi’s hands had been holding you by the waist as she watched your posture be lifted with need, her eyes traveled down your petite body and back to your fawning face.

“Go.” Was all she said before easing up her hold on you, lips turned a content measure as she let you from the counter top to your feet, watching as you trotted your way out the room as to where her husband was. She’d leave him to have his way with you, and she would go back to handling whatever business the assistant would have readied for her.

Art viewed your heaven like shape embarking him, small but full on show smirk across his lips as you hover him briefly, legs on either side of his muscular body and tits on full showiness for him as you eased into his lap.

The blondes hands immediately went to grasp at what he could, your hips, the smooth skin of your ass, his peach colored lips meshed with the side of your neck and to your lips in a sloppy kiss. You smelled of the sweetest sent of vanilla and cherries, skin like the softest stroke of a rose petal in his hands. You were delicate and so open for him to take from, willing and needy for his rough way with you.

“I knew you’d be a good girl.. mmm-” he groaned into your mouth as you kissed him back with greed, lips colliding like how to sky meets the sun, your exposed front sunk into the prime of his chest as he held you, and you’d know just below where Tashi left you wet and clenching

He was fucking hard.

Jeans becoming unbearable as he groped what was there for him to touch of you and you moaned softly with high pitched tones much too heavenly for Art,

“Need you, Art, please..” you breathed out, practically hanging off of just his sent as the man tried his best to pull from your divinity to get his pants off and far away from him. Fastened hands unbuttoning the fabric and unzipping his fly all while you kissed and nibbled on his earlobe.

Art lifted himself and you to push down his boxers, dick springing out on instant and he held himself in wait of you,

“bounce on my cock, princess, you got it.” Art panted as he pressed in the small of your back to arch your position on top of him, your face colliding with his hair in a mess as you whimpered at just his words, hands rushing to grab hold of anything in reach as your whines turned into a strangled cry at the way the head of his cock slid into you.

You held his shoulders and moaned out like a slut at the way he was sliding through your folds. Wetness like a blanket to him as your walls were tight and stretched, you could feel Art curse against your skin when you sunk all the way down on him.

Softly calloused hands on your hips tight, he leaned his head back against the rim of the couch, a hazy smile on his face as you rode him, hips gliding against his own as almost pornographic moans escaped from you instantly.

You felt him deep, rocking and bouncing where it was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, Arts groans filled up the space as your hips took him somewhere else. You were moaning out his name whist the sounds of slapping from between the two of you echoing. You took in every inch of what he gave you in a plea.

It wasn’t long before he had his way with you on as many surfaces of that bedroom as he could, you’d been fucked in so many different ways in so little time you weren’t quite sure how you’d handled it all only still being new to being so sexually aroused and active.

“Oh… oh. fuck! Yes-” You cried out as you’d been on your back now against the Arm of the couch, Arts hips snapping into you as he grunted at the sight of your soaked precum filled cunt taking him pound after another.

Your head dizzy and hanging from the piece of furniture as your body shook with bliss. With the feeling of you potentially being printed on magazine’s all over in the future and being Art and Tashi’s play piece had you on feeling on top of the world, you could say it was enough climax for you alone if you hadn’t been coming a third time right then.

“Shit. I’m gonna cum, Art.. I’m cumming !” Your warnings were so girlish and penetrating to Art, which he just ate right up, trying not to cum himself hearing you yell his name out like that. He kept your thighs flush to him as he pumped you through it and your body trembled with a string of breathless moans when your release hit.

It was so much before the tennis player had felt his own load coming quick, he panted as his body stilled.

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

You did just as he told you, knowing what came next as the first time he came in your mouth. You got on your chiffon like knees, and your fanciful eyes met his with a soft bat of your lashes as Art placed himself on your slick tongue.

You sucked him in till your mouth was full and you groaned softly, Art palmed at your hair from just the sight of your soft lips around his member, biting down on his own as he observed you swallow him.

“hollow those cheeks just like I taught you, princess.”

You held back a gag as you sucked him, holding his base in your petite hand as you slid him through your mouth, only pulling out slowly when you feel his cock twitch inside your enclosure. Art groaned as pumps of his seed were left on your tongue, you couldn’t help but give him a mischievous smile as a string of spit collected with his soft erection from your tongue.

The way he watched you with a grin made you feel like his sweet obedient little girl. Taking all his cum wherever he wanted. It made you blush even after everything.

You could feel the puffiness of your pussy clench just at the sight of the last few drops of cum escaping his cock, and Art had then reached to lift you up from the floor.

Scooping you up in his arms, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle as he held you close under your thighs, shivering body now calm with the rush. You wrapped your arms around his neck tight, not letting go even when he set you down on the bed with him.

“Next time, I want you to have me in front of the window.”

“God, you little minx, what have I done to you ? You just never stop.”

A string of giggles left you as Art kissed your neck, his charming laugh too easy on your ears and he wasn’t wrong.

[piosplayhouse]

Shen qingqiu's internal narration: it's a good thing that despite being a straight man I am not very attracted to women or else I would have to fight against luo binghe for a girlfriend and no woman would ever pick me over luo binghe's 20 inch cock model abs throbbing solid wall of muscle clearly. And I'm straight so.

Shang Qinghua 's internal narration: I need to watch peerless cucumber get dicked down by a man with fat tits now or I'm going to kill myself

[mensfactory]

1954 Oldsmobile F-88 Concept

The 1954 Oldsmobile F-88 concept car, and the only remaining example of this iconic GM Motorama creation. Supplied directly from GM as a knocked-down “kit” to legendary automaker E.L. Cord.

Known internally as project XP-20, the Oldsmobile concept was designed in the spirit of Chevrolet’s 1953 Corvette: a two-seat sports car with a 102-inch wheelbase and fiberglass body.

But its details define the Oldsmobile F-88 concept as something far more visionary, offering a glimpse of the future in the shape of its fenders, tail fins, exhaust outlets, and use of chrome. And GM spared no expense, with custom trim and hardware like front fender vents cleverly disguised behind cast “F88” emblems.

Its interior was upholstered in pearlescent-finished pigskin, a material impossible to offer with production-line models. Unlike most concept cars, the F-88 was not a pushmobile, but powered by Oldsmobile’s 150 hp, 324 cubic-inch V-8 engine, mated to GM’s Hydramatic transmission.

The car is powered by Oldsmobile’s 150 hp, 324 cubic-inch V-8 engine, which is mated to GM’s Hydramatic transmission.

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Are your scissors dull? Would you like tips regarding sewing needles?

If you're having a difficult time cutting through material, your scissors likely need sharpening. There are two ways I've used for this, and they're both very effective.

The semi-free version:

Take aluminum foil, a long sheet of it, and fold this into about four layers.

Cut through all four layers, in thin strips, with your scissor. I make the strips less than half an inch apart, and cut the long way. You will need to be careful because the edges of the foil will be sharp.

After you get through all four layers at least six to eight times, fold what's left of the sheet in half. This will create eight layers, cut through these until the sheet is gone.

Test your scissors by cutting through scraps. I've made children's scissors sharp enough to cut through four layers of fabric when I use this method.

The inexpensive version.

Purchase this. You can find it in fabric stores, craft stores, and even a department store (like Walmart) in their crafting supply section. I bought mine at Joann Fabrics, when they had a sale, for less than $8.

Scissor sharpeners are super easy to use. Just follow the instructions they come with. Basically, you slide them in, and pull them out like you're cutting.

You won't need to do many passes for most scissors, but you will make children's scissors very dangerous.

For very small scissors, like applique or embroidery types.

Use the semi-free section.

You will only need two layers for the first pass, not nearly as much as you would for larger blades. So make the sheet smaller.

After five or six passes, fold the layers in half for four layers. Make several more passes.

Test your scissors to see how sharp they are. If unsatisfied, make more passes through the foil layers.

I hope this was helpful!

For hand-sewing sharpening needles, the little strawberry attached to the tomato pincushions serves that purpose. Stab your needle through that a few times. I find it works only so many times before I simply need to switch to a new one.

As for machine sewing needles, sharpening them borders on pointless. I suggest using Organ Needles if price is a big issue for you. My experience with Organ Needles has been phenomenal. The low price and high count, and the fact they last just as long as the name brand stuff you find in supply shops is just a bonus.

I have a pack of 100 sewing needles for less than $30. Compare that to the $10-$20 a package of five or ten name brand needle packs cost. Even if half the needles in my 100 pack start dull, it's still less than what I would otherwise pay. Thus far, this hasn't happened.

My needles go dull swiftly when I do any foundation paper piecing, stitching through fabric and paper, and paper dulls scissors* real quick. Imagine how fast that is with a needles, making hundreds of stitch through all those layers. If I notice the stitches look messy, I switch out my needle. I still have over half left, and have been using the same pack for around a year now.

If you're wondering how to dispose of the used sewing needles, may I suggest a plastic bubblegum container? I used to chew gum all the time, but had to stop after my doctor explained it's very bad due to my TMD/TMJ (and having hEDS also explains why large pieces of gum would dislocate my jaw). Because of my habit of keeping perfectly acceptable containers, I had two empty ones. One is used for my handsewing, like a little trash container. Opening and closing the floor models is irritating, and the fact I have a cat means all trashcans in this house must have a lid. Anyway...I use my second to hold used needles, broken or bent pins, and after four years of using this, the thing isn't even a quarter of the way filled. It'll likely be decades before emptying it will be necessary. The hard plastic edges make it impossible for any of the pointy ends from puncturing, thus making it safe for all and no trash bags will suffer.

[paper-mario-wiki]

i'm loving seeing you post more of your art!! out of curiosity, how long have you been drawing? is there anything specific you do to practice or do you just pick something and draw it? (i've been trying to learn to draw myself for the past year or so, and seeing your art more often has become somewhat of an inspiration for me!)

ive been doodling all my life! thought when i say "doodle" i mean "as an unmedicated youth i was unable to focus on a drawing for more than 45 minutes at a time"

here's some posts from an art blog i had in middle school, and the first year of highschool.

what most critically separates this art from the art ive been doing recently is that i NEVER used any refrence. ever. i looked at stuff to make sure i knew what it looked like, but the rest was always roughly estimated based on what i thought would look good (which was largely based on cartoons).

but i only ever started trying to "learn how to draw" over the past year. here's the thing: spending a bunch of hours practicing drawing cubes and cylinders is like. all you have to do to see yourself start improving in real time.

draw a bunch of cubes and cylinders, and learn how to make them look realistic in proportion to each other using references to guide you. practice drawing stuff like basic buildings, cans of soda, maybe a cake (3 short fat cylinders on top of each other) if you're feeling daring. then try to draw slightly more complicated shapes, like spheres and cones and stuff. layer these shapes on top of each other to make more complicated shapes. you're gettin the picture.

infuriatingly, basic shapes is like 40% of the "getting it to click" work done.

after than, move on to 30 second sketches of nude models using this site. yeah, only 30 seconds. it doesnt matter if it comes out looking like shit, the point is learning how to simplify complicated shapes down into their most basic lines. dont waste time erasing. dont waste time pressing ctrl-z. erasing is your enemy. you arent learning how to erase, you're learning how to draw. (you'll get your eraser back later).

do this hundreds of times. yeah, hundreds. put on a podcast or something. get in a voice call with your friends. but ya gotta practice this one. that's the next 20% of making it "click".

now, unfortunately, the last 40% is just a matter of slamming your head against the wall of art until things slowly start to look better and better. it's sort of like a chemical formula, in that the closer you get to 100% purity, the more and more difficult it becomes to distill it.

the key is to ALWAYS use reference. you cannot learn how to realistically draw something you've conjured from your mind if you cannot depict something that's right in front of you realistically.

im currently in this valley, as most artists are. in fact i dont think it's possible to make art "click" in your mind 100%, but it sure is fun to inch closer and closer!

below is a bunch of art in chronological order from april to now. you'll see that it's not really a straight road of getting better and better, but you'll see my lines slowly getting more confident and details becoming more clearly defined!

[icky-rickyy]

Joy Ride

Motorcyclist!Logan x Motorcyclist!reader

I am currently obsessing over street bike tik tok. Taking a short break from my multi part I am writing to supply this beauty.

Rated: E for everyone.

Should I do a part2

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Marissa, your roommate spoke from her bed. She was laid in snuggly under the covers, chin tucked to her chest and cell phone resting on her abdomen as she dedicated the first half of the day to ‘doom scrolling’ as she called it.

“Yeah why not? I never meet anyone, and I never get to show off. I haven’t gone on a joy ride in months.”

You were tugging the zipper of your armored pants up, making sure they were fastened tightly to your body.

“You’re going to go cruising into a bike meet? A male predominant space and expect to get treated like one of the guys? Your tits are out!” She inched up in her bed, resting her back against the headboard.

“The last time I went to a bike meet was with Ethan. And I went as a backpack. I didn’t even have my own bike to show off, I was just eye candy while riding bitch and holding on to him.”

“And I look better on a bike when my tits are out anyways!” You looked down the front of your white cropped top, tugging the bottom hem down.

“Are you going by yourself?”

“Well….. no. I was going to ask Ethan to meet with me. Buutttt, if you wanna play backpack then I won’t invite him.” You were pulling on a thin zip up jacket, zipping it only a quarter of the way.

“I am so sorry but this is my only Saturday off all month, I am not getting oogled at and then being scared for my life while you drive recklessly.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Kay fine. Don’t be mad when I come home with some biker hottie and we’re knockin boots all night.”

You grabbed your helmet from the end of her bed, tucking it under your arm with a firm slap to the top of it.

“Don’t die, and don’t get any STD’s!” She cheered after you as you headed through your apartment to the front door.

You dialed quickly on your phone, tucking it between your ear and shoulder as you pulled your keys from your pocket. It only took two rings before it answered.

“Uh hello?”

Ethan was on the other side, asking pensively.

“Are you going to the bike meet at the abandoned Jiffy on 10th?” You hung your helmet on the handle bar of your bike, swinging your leg over to mount it.

“Yes. How do you even know about that?” You could hear him shuffling on the other line.

“You’ll see. I’ll be there in 20.”

You hung up the phone quickly, locking it on to your phone stand and reaching for your helmet. You pulled it on over your hair, tucking the loose strands up in the back before fastening it tightly around your chin.

The bike roared to life beneath you, and your heart settled happily in your chest. You were excited for the evening, ready to see what the rest of the day could hold.

You weren’t even sure where to park.

The abandoned parking lot was already half filled with bikes of all shapes and sizes. Riders stood talking to one another while others stayed perched on their motorcycles simply observing or scrolling on their phones. There were at least 30 people stood waiting, and the meet wasn’t meant to actually start for another 10 minuets.

You tried not to shy away from peering eyes as you rolled into the large group of people, looking for an open spot to put the kickstand up on your bike and put it in park.

There was an open spot next to an older model Harley, the owner stood leaning against his bike puffing a half smoked cigar as he looked to the others suspiciously.

It was a stark difference, your bike next to his.

His classic looking motorcycle next to your lilac purple crotch rocket. Dark black leather next to pink and white accents and flashy rims.

You pushed the kickstand down, staying mounted on your bike as you fiddled with the helmet strap. Your hair fell from its tucked in position, setting your helmet on the gas tank and pulling your gloves off to run your hands through your messy helmet hair.

You tried not to look at the man next to you, watching his eyes scan as his large chest huffed with each inhale of his cigar. He had a leather jacket folded on the seat next to him, clad in a white beater tank top and bootcut jeans help up by a large silver belt buckle. His arms were big and muscular, covered by a vast sea of body hair. A tickle of the dark hair peeked up past the neckline of his tank top and teased at the base of his throat.

He looked many years you senior, and hot as fuck.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You stuck your hand out to him sheepishly, introducing yourself.

“Logan. Like your bike.” He nodded down, eyes narrow with a stern look on his face. His words were curt but friendly.

“Right back at ya.” You chuckled back, pausing your next sentence when your phone began to ring in your pocket.

“Sorry.”

You dismissed yourself, answering Ethan’s incoming call and pressing it to your ear.

“Hey. Yeah. I’m next to an all black Harley. It’ll be hard to miss me. Yep. See you here.” You pushed your phone back into your pocket after ending the call, adjusting your seating on your bike.

Logan was still looking around, watching people walk past and nodding to the few that gawked openly.

A group of girls still wearing their helmets were walking by, whispering and squealing quietly to themselves at the sight of your bike. They all came by to swoon with you, asking where you got it and identifying questions you weren’t unfamiliar with answering.

You could hear the signature roar of Ethan’s bike as he approached, the girls standing near all making a clearing as he pulled in behind you and parking his own bike. He dismounted, swiftly pulling off his helmet.

“Wow. I’m impressed. You might have just out done me.” He stood with his hands on his hips, watching as you pulled your leg over your bike approaching him with a hug.

It had been nearly six months since your breakup that you had last seen Ethan. You tried a few times after the initial ending of your relationship to rekindle, but it never seemed to work out.

“I didn’t even know you got a bike.” He held you proudly by your shoulders, stepping back and putting his hands to his side when the group of people around the two of you finally registered in his brain.

“Well I was tired of being a backpack, what can I say? This is your fault though. You started this addiction.” You laughed open heartedly to him, watching him nod with a smile.

“Well I have a few buddies here to catch up with, but I’ll cruise with you when we get going later.”

You nodded as a quiet response to him, smiling as you watched him walk away and into a group of guys that all hugged and high-fived him happily.

“Boyfriend?” Logan asked from next to you.

You had almost forgot he was there, looming quietly from his bike.

“No.” You laughed to him. “Ex. This is actually the first time we’ve seen each other in months.” You pulled your phone from your pocket again, sending Marissa a quick text that you had arrived safe and sound.

“His loss.” Logan muttered quietly, pulling a final drag of his cigar. You looked over with a flash of shock, watching him smirk as he flicked the tobacco to the ground and stomped it to ash.

All you did was nod with a shy smile, looking to your street shoes and kicking a loose pebble around.

The entire group of bikers waited for another 10 minutes before everyone loaded up. You pulled on your gloves and helmet again, tugging the strap tight and hopping back on to your bike. Ethan mounted his behind you, you both shared an excited glance before you flicked down the visor of your helmet. Logan pulled on his jacket, climbing onto his bike without any protection. He smirked over to you, you blushed behind the darkness of your helmet.

Your whole body was vibrating in excitement when the group of bikes roared to life. There were at least 50 of you. It was too hard to count when the front of the group sped from the parking lot and out into the street.

Ethan replaced Logan’s spot on the side of you, keeping steady pace as you all began to race down the pavement. Logan followed shortly behind.

Passer-bys in their cars all gawked at the lot of you, heads swinging on a swivel as the singular headlights went by in a flash.

The group was picking up speed, going through main traffic until you took enough turns and ended up on an open paved backroad.

Evening was dwindling down, and the traffic was decreasing by the minute. This left the wide open pavement to the entire fleet of motorcycles to cruise in and out of the two lane road.

People were synced up to each others helmets, talking joyfully through about their lives while others shared music with each other in a collective jam session. You typically would enjoy far too loud music while riding, but you left your ears open to hear the herd of rumbling bikes race down the streets and to pick up on any important or urgent comms messages.

Logan managed to squeeze in between you and Ethan, his classic bike groaned and rumbled deeply as he yanked on his throttle in show. You laughed aloud at his ego display, looking between him and the road as he smiled brightly.

Logan leaned over as much as he could from the distance between you, sticking his hand out in invitation. You veered your bike closer to his, placing your hand in his open palm. He clasped his hand around yours, pulling your gloved knuckles up to place a soft kiss upon them. He squeezed your hand before sending you a wink and letting go.

You put your hand over the mouth of your helmet, tilting your head to mock grace at his chivalry. He threw his head back in a laugh, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

When you both quit giggling you watched Logan’s eyes flash dark with mischief. He scanned the area quickly, locating and calculating the closest bikers before he yanked down on his throttle.

His bike was absolutely screeching, hollering in a deep grumble as he pulled down harder and shifted gears. He was flying through the group, weaving in and out of everyone as he accelerated through them all.

You were almost shocked, watching him navigate the group with ease. You watched a few people flash back to you with confusion. You decided, why the hell not, and yanked down on your throttle just as hard.

The wind was whistling against you as you leaned down into the tank of your bike, feeling yourself accelerate even faster with the aerodynamics. It was a flash of headlights and rainbow colored modifications as you passed each biker swiftly in urge to catch up with Logan who was now coasting freely at the front of the group.

Your comms system was catching nearby voices, hearing them whisper in confusion or holler in excitement.

Logan was looking back as often as he could when he heard your bike accelerating behind him, a wide smile on his face when you finally caught up. You flipped up the visor of your helmet.

“You tryna race?” You yelled over to him.

He shook his head from side to side. “Not tonight doll, just wanted to show off a little.”

“Maybe next time?” You inquired with a smile, watching him roll his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, maybe next time.”

It was nearly 10 pm when you all returned back to the abandoned parking lot. Many of the bikers wished a good night as they broke up from the group to head home, the others followed back and were now parked in the meeting spot. Most were walking around in the light of the street lamps engaging in conversation or perusing the parked bikes in admiration.

You’d mainly went back to bid a goodnight to Ethan and then head home, to thank him for showing and for inspiring you to chase this particular fulfillment in your life.

It’s was hard to ever consider a time when you didn’t have a bike. From the moment you met Ethan and you began riding tandem with him, you were obsessed. The adrenaline, the quick feeling of flying through the open roads, the deep contentment that settled your soul and helped you sleep at night.

“Thanks again.” You confirmed to him, seeing his bright smile underneath his helmet. He held your shoulders kindly and his bright blue eyes shimmered down in pride.

“I’m proud of you. I hope you know that.”

You could have teared up at his endearment. Sometimes you wondered what it would have been like if this managed to work out with him.

“Thank you. Let’s plan another time to meet up, maybe without the other seven million people.”

Ethan nodded in confirmation with a laugh, pulling you in for one last tight hug before separating to head to his bike parked nearby.

He waved to the group and his friends as he drove away on his bike, peering out into the road before he filtered into the straying traffic and was gone in a flash.

Logan had still loomed by, leaning against his bike and finishing another cigar. You were ready to leave and head home, but felt compelled to talk to him.

“Thanks for the fun tonight. This was my first ever meet solo and you, uh, you just made it a lot better.” You stuck out your hand as a formality.

Logan reached out and shook it, his large hand wrapping around your gloved one like earlier.

“Thank you for playing along. Recklessness can get boring.”

You chuckled in response, nervously tucking your hand into your pocket and looking to the ground.

“Hey?” Logan asked, tentatively reaching for the bottom of your helmet. He tugged you closer, tilting your head up to look up at him.

“Let’s do this again, just you and I? Next week on Tuesday work?” He puffed a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Meet here? 10 am?”

You nodded again.

“Perfect. Good night, and get home safe doll.” He released his grip on your helmet, watching you stay frozen in shock. He stomped out his cigar like he did earlier, mounting his bike swiftly.

You watched in awe as he rumbled it to life. He sent a flirty wink before pulling up his own kickstand. Logan flew out of the parking lot and into the street.

“Oh fuck me.” You groaned, flicking down the visor of your helmet and mounting your own bike to head home.

[aryamistwood]

Erissa's Doll

It's finally done! Here is my take of Erissa's dolls..or puppets? Do we know what SSO is calling them yet? I admit, I messed up the proportions a bit and it isn't exact to the game model, but I'm still so proud and think it came out really cute! This was the first time I made my own pattern, and while there are things I think I would do differently next time, I'm still pretty happy with her!

Free Amigurumi Pattern below!

DISCLAIMER! This is my first pattern, so it may read rough. These are the exact steps I used to make the doll in the picture, but feel free to modify to look closer to the original.

MATERIALS

Weight 4 in 3 colors. I don't have exact amounts because this yarn came from my stash of rug yarn. Definitely less than a full ball, probably about 1/3 to 1/2. I believe it was Loops and Threads brand. The bows used a very small amount, less than a fist's size each.

4mm crochet hook

tapestry needle

safety eyes or buttons

stuffing material

LEGEND

r# - round/row

mc - magic circle

inc - increase

sc - single crochet

fo - fasten off (pull the tail through to knot)

ch - chain

dec - decrease (I used the invisible decrease, where you pull up the inside loops only of the 2 stitches you're decreasing)

slst - slip stitch

LEGS (make 2)

r1 - mc 4sc [4] r2 - inc x4 [8] r3 - (inc, 3sc) x2 [10] r4 - (inc, 4sc) x2 [12] r5 - (inc, 5sc) x2 [14] r6 - (inc, 6sc) x2 [16] r7 - 16sc [16] r8 - (inc, 7sc) x2 [18] r9 - 18sc [18] r10 - (inc, 8sc) x2 [20] r11 - 20sc [20] r12 - (inc, 9sc) x2 [22] r13 - 22sc [22] r14 - (inc, 10sc) x2 [24]

Don’t FO the first leg, leave a hands length tail.

After you finish the second leg, chain 2 and join with the unfinished loop of the first leg.

sc once into the next stitch on the first leg, and then sc 2x into the side of the chain 2.

Rejoin leg 2 with a sc and continue to sc around leg 2.

Continue to sc down the chain and around the next leg. You should have about 52-54 stitches in this round, give or take. Consider the point where you rejoined the second leg after coming back on the side of the chain 2 the start of your round.

NOTE: About here on, your stitch counts might not match mine, and that's okay. The rest isn’t so precise, so if it looks good to you, you’re good!

BODY (continuing from last step)

r1 - r3 - sc around (54)

Stuff the legs.

This is where we start decreasing. On each “decrease round”, you’re going to DEC at the front and back of (for lack of a better term) the crotch.

r4 - (25sc, dec) x2 [52] r5 - 52sc [52] r6 - (24sc, dec) x2 [50] r7 - 50sc [50] r8 - (23sc, dec) x2 [48] r9 - 48sc [48] r10 - (22sc, dec) x2 [46] r11 - 46sc [46] r12 - (21sc, dec) x2 [44] r13 - 44sc [44] r14 - (9sc. dec) x4 [40] r15 - (8sc, dec) x4 [36]

Another reminder to stuff here.

r16 - (7sc, dec) x4 [32] r17 - (6sc, dec) x4 [28] r18 - (5sc, dec) x4 [24] r19 - (4sc, dec) x4 [20]

FO and leave a long tail for sewing (2 hands length)

HEAD

r1 - mc 6sc [6] r2 - 6inc [12] r3 - (1sc, inc) x6 [18] r4 - (2sc, inc) x6 [24] r5 - (3sc, inc) x6 [30] r6 - (4sc, inc) x6 [36] r7 - (5sc, inc) x6 [42] r8 - (6sc, inc) x6 [48] r9 - (7sc, inc) x6 [54] r10 - (8sc, inc) x6 [60] r11-18 60sc [60] r19 - (8sc, dec) x6 [54]

If you are adding safety eyes, add them between rows 17 and 18, about 12 stitches apart

r20 - (7sc, dec) x6 [48] r21 - (6sc, dec) x6 [42] r22 - (5sc, dec) x6 [36] r23 - (4sc, dec) x6 [30] r24 - (3sc, dec) x6 [24] r25 - (2sc, dec) x6 [18] r26 - (1sc, dec) x6 [12]

FO and leave a few inches to weave in

Stuff firmly and sew to body, stuffing the joint as you close it. Be careful to line your stitches up so the eyes face forward, and don't list to the left like mine did.

ARMS (make 2)

r1 - mc 4sc [4] r2 - inc x4 [8] r3 - (inc, 3sc) x2 [10] r4 - (inc, 4sc) x2 [12] r5 - (inc, 5sc) x2 [14] r6 - (inc, 6sc) x2 [16] r7 - 16sc [16] r8 - (inc, 7sc) x2 [18] r9-13 - 18sc [18]

So at this point, I know it would be more accurate to attach the arms fluffed and sewn a bit open to the body…but I decided to lightly stuff and slst the opening closed, leaving a tail for sewing.

BOWS (make 2 in different colors)

r1 - ch36, slst into first chain to close the loop, making sure the chain doesn’t twist [36] r2 - (into the sides of the chain) ch1, sc35 [36] r3-10 sc36 [36]

slst and weave the ends.

With the same color, we’re going to make the bow’s knot.

r1 - ch 11 [11] r2 - sc in the second stitch from the hook and down the remaining 9 stitches, ch1 and turn [10] r3-4 - 10sc, ch1, turn [10] r5 - fold your work so the short ends touch and slst to join down the short side [4]

Leave a long tail for sewing.

To assemble, scrunch/gather the first part of the bow you made and slide it through the “knot” with the openings at the top and bottom. Rolling it up and twisting helps. Then fluff out the sides so it looks how you like.

Then assemble! Your head should already be attached. Go ahead and add the arms about 6 rows down from the head connection, or place them visually. Attach the bows to the top using the tail from the knot. Fluff the bows and you're done!

[foldingfittedsheets]

If you don't mind another bed question: is it just me or are new bed models just MASSIVELY thick? I purchased a hybrid bed in 2019 and this boy is like 20 inches thick? I had to get new sheets! Eventually I added a topper (chronic pain, thank u latex topper) and now it's even thicker. What's the deal with this? Meanwhile my partner has a european queen that's at least half the thickness of mine and just as comfortable. I don't get it!

Honestly I have no idea. I think American mattress manufacturers are stuck in a “more bigger more better” arms race. I will say that I’ve been pleasantly surprised coming back into the industry after seven years away to see them shrinking again. Most of the beds are around 15inches now which while thick is more reasonable.

But most of the Very Fancy beds are still chunky as hell.