#plus size lady

[vielle-art]

oc design comm for an anonymous client!!

[seahagart]

This was the original pitch zine I created for my film! I'm going to be posting it soon, but you can watch the trailer and learn more about it down below

[frudoo]

John Price with his chunky baby and spunky baby mama 🫶

Warnings: Spit-up, normal baby things!!

Fluff ahead 🤍

“Better stop kickin’ them legs, little lady,” John huffs, squishing the giggling infant’s round cheeks softly to make her lips pucker out.

Her incessant babbling and the playful growls that come from your husband’s mouth coax you into the nursery. As you lean against the doorframe, you have to stifle a laugh—there are about twenty used wipes scattered about the changing table, and the rowdy little babe is kicking off every fresh diaper John tries to put on her. Suddenly, her cute little coos and gummy smiles turn into tiny grunts and a concentrated face. Your eyes widen, trying to warn your husband.

“John, she’s about to-!”

“Bloody hell!” He groans, holding a diaper over his weapon of a baby’s bottom.

The laughs don’t cease this time, covering your mouth as your chest shakes with spiteful delight. You walk over to your grimacing husband, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He sighs in defeat, grabbing what seems like the thousandth wipe and starting the whole process over again.

“Think it’s funny, do ya?” John jokes, turning around momentarily to give you a playful glare.

“I think it’s hilarious, actually. She gets it from her dad,” you shrug, crossing your arms and cooing at your chunky baby.

“Ha, ha,” John mocks dismissively, giving his baby girl a stern look as he lifts her legs up yet again. She replies with a belly laugh, and his pursed lips turn upward into an amused grin as he slides the fresh diaper beneath her bottom.

“Got a pair o’lungs like her mum, though,” he smirks, fastening the sticky tabs to the front part of the nappy.

That earns him a soft smack to the back of his neck, making his shoulders dance with each chuckle he lets out. John zips up the pink camouflage onesie he’d put on her and lifts her into the air, pretending to groan like she’s the heaviest thing he could possibly lift. She babbles and stares down at him adoringly for a moment before staring off into space and chewing on her fist. He lowers her into his bent arms, cradling her and tapping her nose with the tip of his finger.

“Here, give her to me, I’ll go get her a teething ring,” you suggest, holding your arms out to your chubby little infant.

John laughs heartily as the sassy infant glances at you through her peripheral vision before returning her attention back to her old man. The heart-eyes she gives him make you pout, bottom lip quivering in mock offense.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I guess she just prefers her daddy,” he beams, lifting the baby up into the air once more, but making one crucial mistake—pressing his hands into her soft tummy.

You raise an eyebrow as John continues to brag and boast about the tiny human’s favoritism. He misses the way her squishy body jiggles with a silent burp. You don’t.

“Ain’t that right, lovebug? Daddy’s your very fav-” he stops mid-sentence when the waterfall of rancid milk spews out of the wriggly baby’s mouth and right into his own.

Wordlessly, you take your daughter (who seems rather proud of herself) into your arms and clean her up with a burp rag, leaving John open-mouthed and horrified in the middle of the nursery. You snicker as you kiss the noisy babe on her forehead, cooing to her proudly. With a final glance over your shoulder, you smile innocently at your husband with one last suggestion.

“Should probably brush your teeth before you come back downstairs.”

[thatchickmaya]

Thursday Sketches - 08/08/24

[merilles]

Ladies of the Ring 💍✨

[sergle]

Serglemail is live!! demon babes are the stickers for this month, seeing as how it's Basically spooky season- and anyone who joins one of the serglemail tiers before the end of the month will get the mail! I hope you like the babes!

patreon.com/sergle

[lovertm]

photographer: Taylor Shae // model: _sweet_lady_k_

[thebeardlyben]

Punk rock queen Sirene patreon commission for @huttser_coyote !

[juxtaposedpunk]

Fiddlin' around with a design for an office tyrant OC

[theselkiesea]

Feeling my look this morning 🍂

[wedontdeservethestars]

JOHNNY CAGE X SHORT CHUBBY READER I TELL YOU HE LOVES HIS WOMEN THICC

ANON I'M NOT EVEN GONNA SAY THIS A CORRECT OPINION BECAUSE IT'S SO CORRECT THAT IT'S A STRAIGHT-UP FACT. Johnny prefers his girls chubby change my mind!!!!!!!!!!! (Hint: you cannot)

Anyways I know I say that I never write smut but I uh. I did this time. Congrats anon you got me to come out of my shell for Our Boy

Content: reader has female genitalia, smut, fluff, body worship, overall just a Lovely Time between you two

(Pspspsps I also put this on AO3 if anyone would like the link for that teehee)

You had no idea what it was about red carpet events that made Johnny up act but, but every time he invited you out to accompany him, it was a constant fight not to let the paparazzi see his hands all over you. Not that you minded much, but hey, one of you had to have some decency. Maybe it was the stream of complementary alcohol, maybe it was seeing you all dolled up in a pretty silk dress, maybe it was the inherent nature of red carpet events essentially being an excuse to say, “Hey, look how pretty I am, look how pretty my partner is,” or maybe, just maybe, it was a combination of all three. 

Never mind, you thought as Johnny pushed you up against the front door. It’s definitely the dress. 

Just like they had been for the past few hours, his large hands were grabbing and squeezing ever part of you he could manage like a fucking kid in the pillow section at Bed, Bath & Beyond. And the more he felt each curve, the more excited he seemed to be getting, attacking your throat and shoulders and face with his mouth.

“Hey,” you chuckled breathlessly. “Easy.”

“Don’t know–” Another kiss on your neck. “What you’re talkin’ about–” This one landed on your soft jawline. “Doll–”

“Can we at least get to the couch or something before I’m fully nude this time?” you whispered, a smirk playing on your lips. Johnny looked at you very seriously and shook his head.

“No shot.” He grabbed he straps of your dress and, with a not-too-unhappy sigh, you slipped your arms out of them. Your puppy of a boyfriend knelt in front of you and slowly, teasing both you and himself, pulled the front of your dress down. He really did love how it looked on you, the tight material hugging every single rondure and roll, the deep red shimmering in each crease of the fabric. But even more than he loved you in that dress, he loved you out of that dress. 

You let out a soft sound as his hot sigh of breath tickled your skin when he saw you standing there just in your bra and panties. Without fail, he always acted as though he was seeing you for the first time whenever you were in any state of undress. 

“Fucking goddess,” he murmured, and then his lips were all over your front. He was hugging your thick thighs like they were the only thing that would save him. His mouth dragged all around your belly and chest, pausing on occasion to kiss more deliberately or nibble a piece of soft skin. Each pause earned a small gasp or sigh from you.

“Johnny,” you whispered. 

“Huhm?” He glanced up at you, midway through giving one of your love handles a hickey and not bothering to stop. 

“You’re…” Your thoughts swam madly. The only thing you could focus clearly on were the warm tingles coursing through your nerves. You could hardly put a sentence together. “I need you on top of me…”

A smirk fell upon his lips and he pulled away from your tummy, admiring his work for a moment. Then, he grabbed your ass with both hands and squeezed hard, humming. 

“I can do that.” 

In a flash, he was lifting you into his arms. You couldn’t stop a smile from coming across your lips–somehow it always surprised you when he carried you, even though you knew that he was more than strong enough to support your weight. All that time spent building up his muscles wasn’t just for show.

Your bedroom was an agonizingly long way away up a whole entire flight of stairs. Clearly, Johnny couldn’t wait that long, because he brought you to the nearest couch instead (well, technically it was a fainting couch; Johnny said he needed it for dramatics, whatever that meant). 

Johnny wasted no time in unhooking your bra and discarding it on the floor. Your panties were next. The velvet sofa felt foreign against your bare skin, but not unwelcome. He took a breath as he straddled you and began to unbutton his dress shirt. The whole while, he stared down at you. His brown doe-eyes gleamed with adoration. 

“Look at you,” his voice rumbled like distant thunder. 

“You’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?”

“Ohhh, longer than that,” he chuckled. His hands were tracing you again. He couldn’t seem to help himself. “I’m always thinking about this, stardust.”

“It’s so hard to tell,” you teased, your own fingers dancing along his toned thighs. His skin felt hot, and you didn’t think it was just because of the Californian summer heat. 

“Like it’s my fault?” He leaned down and peppered kisses all along one of your breasts. Pausing before continuing on, he grinned up at you, “How’m I supposed to keep it in my pants when I have the most gorgeous girl on earth around me all the time?”

A moan slipped out of you as he pulled your nipple between his teeth and grabbed the other between his thumb and forefinger. You squirmed beneath him and tried to get a coherent response out. 

“Can–God–can you–” Your breath was short. “Need you to touch me…”

“Yes, ma’am.” Johnny gladly slid himself down, taking the time to admire and graze your belly with his mouth. You could feel how hard he was against your plush thighs, one of which he grabbed and hung up over the back of the couch while the other he spread so it swayed over the floor. 

“God damn, you’re so fucking wet already, aren’t you?” he grinned, running a finger up your folds. You felt it all the way through your spine and it made you buck your hips up. 

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, dazed.

His tongue was next, pressing hard against you and flicking expertly between your sensitive lips. A sound that you had never made in your entire life escaped your throat. It only seemed to encourage Johnny as he quickened his pace. For once, he was completely silent save for the occasional grunt or groan, and for the absolute most blissful reason possible. You wanted to praise him, tell him to keep going and that you loved him and that you were in heaven right now, but your words wouldn’t work. Fortunately, the way you were moaning was probably sending the message pretty clearly.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair, watching his head bob beneath you. From the way his own hips moved, you could tell he was rubbing his bulge against the couch as he worked on you. His hand, not to go unexercised, gripped one of your thighs–the one propped up on the backseat–and began to massage it. In turn, you yanked on his hair, making his groans vibrate against your pussy. You did it again and again, feeling your heart race. Warmth built up in your chest, and your stomach, and especially your nethers.

After a bit, you pulled his hair more gently, guiding his mouth away from you. Johnny seemed confused and hazy, like he’d just been pulled out of a dream. “I don’t wanna cum yet,” you whispered. You were too close, and too fast. You needed this to last. 

“Can do, babe.” He flashed a smile and sat up. “Gives me some time for this…”

You watched as Johnny finally pushed his slacks down and pulled his length out of his boxer-briefs. He was throbbing and hard, and as he began to stroke himself you could see his tip glistening with precum. 

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he groaned, leaning his head back as he ran his thumb over his slit. 

Suddenly, you decided that you did need to cum. Right now, in fact. You grabbed his hips and guided them forward, an eager look in your eyes. Immediately, Johnny understood.

“Yeah?” he breathed, his lips curving into a smirk.

“Please,” you nodded. Johnny spat into his hand and rubbed it along himself. He tilted your rear up a bit and positioned himself at your entrance. He paused and looked down at you. He smiled.

“What?” you breathed.

The smile, mischievous and greedy, widened. He didn’t move. You let out a whine and pouted. 

“Johnny! Don’t—don’t tease, I can’t right now—“

“Then tell me,” he murmured. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“Please?” You looked up at him with shiny eyes. “Please fuck me…”

He pushed forward—just enough to brush up against you. “I’m not convinced.”

“Please!” you cried out again. “I need it so bad, you feel so good, and—and I wanna cum, please?”

Johnny chuckled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to the center of your chest.

“Only I can make you feel like this. Right, baby?”

“Right,” you nodded quickly. “Yes. You’re fucking—amazing, and, and so hot…”

“Yeah, I am,” he whispered, and then without warning he slid right into you. You let out a whimper so loud that you clapped a hand over your mouth afterwards, your cheeks turning bright red at whatever that was. Johnny chuckled breathlessly and took your hand away, pinning it behind your head.

“No, no, babe. I gotta hear all those pretty little sounds my gorgeous goddess wants to make.”

On cue, the remark made you moan. He rewarded you with a firm thrust against your soft hips. His unoccupied hand sank into your side as he pumped over and over again.

“God—so pretty—“ he muttered. His face was growing several shades darker as he continued.

“Please, please,” you begged again, curling your fingers into fists.

“You close again?” His soft voice broke through.

“Mhmm…” You writhed for a moment before letting your body flow with his, both of you bouncing back and forth. Your eyes fluttered open every now and then. Each time you did, you saw Johnny gazing down at you, his eyes lusted over but filled to the brim with complete obsession with this. With you.

“Oh–” you whispered soon, squeezing your eyes shut. “Johnny, I–I’m gonna—”

“Go ahead, princess,” he nodded, his voice husky and low in a way that you only ever heard during times like this. It drove you over the edge. With one last cry, your legs quivered and you felt yourself close around him, causing a similar moan from him, and each nerve in your system was full of warmth and complete euphoria for a split second. Your breaths began to even out. Your muscles relaxed. Johnny pulled out as you lay there, panting, and finished the job for himself above you. A warm spray landed on your tummy as he grunted and groaned, and then it was over.

Both out of breath, both smiling like idiots, both completely satisfied. 

“Oh, babe,” Johnny sighed about nothing in particular. He sat back and let you shift into a more comfortable position. Everything felt warm and sticky, but you didn’t really mind. 

Johnny trailed a hand up your still-wet stomach and rubbed it gently across all your belly, coating the front of it with his cum. You gave him a shaky sigh at the gesture. It felt strangely nice. 

“I’d offer to clean you up, but you look so pretty like this,” he admitted, giving you a half-hearted shrug. You laughed softly as he stood up anyway and, after nearly forgetting to tug his boxers up, wandered down the hall to one of the first-floor bathrooms, leaving you to bask in the veil of after-arousal. 

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until you felt the towel touch your skin, damp with warm water and no doubt imported from some European country. Once you were all cleaned up, you reluctantly sat up and noticed the dark velvet of the couch was stained where you two had been before.

“Oops,” you chuckled, feeling a little guilty for ruining the luxury fabric but not enough to regret anything. 

“Eh, that’s what the maids are for,” Johnny shrugged, taking a seat beside you. He rested his head against your chest, sighing contentedly.

“I’m so tired now,” you mumbled. “We didn’t even do much…”

“Minus the whole night of drinking and partying?”

“I guess.” You rolled your eyes and rumpled his hair. The pomade he’d slicked it back with had come loose a few hours ago, leaving several strands hanging down in his face. It was cute.

“You’re pretty,” he said suddenly. 

“So you’ve said.” But it still made you blush.

“I know. But I mean it. You’re the prettiest…ever,” he decided on. 

“Hun,” you laughed softly. “Well, thank you.”

“I’m lucky.” He pouted for a moment as he thought. “People always say that. I get lucky breaks and lucky with auditions and lucky with all the deals…but that’s not luck. It’s charisma and talent and whatever. Lucky is, is meeting someone like you out of the blue. Finding you out of seven million people on this earth.”

“Billion.”

“Huh?”

“It’s seven billion people.”

“Whatever.” He buried his face in your chest, muffling is speech. “You get my point.”

“I do,” you whispered. You stroked his hair again and smiled as he gave you a big squeeze. You said, “I love you, too.”

[language-of-love]

Am I really writing fic again? Not sure...but I guess maybe...cause I wrote a thing. Colin and Penelope have me in a vice, y'all.

No idea which of my blogs to use since this is a new fandom for me, so I chose this one. (*waves hello*) Do I even remember how to make a post? LOL

Anyway...here's a tiny little kiss fic, cause that's what I do.

-------------------

never been kissed...

His first was an embarrassment. Fumbling fingers mixed with overwhelmed breaths, the memory built up in his estimation as more revelatory than it was in actuality. There were feelings, undefinable, but new and full and far from perfunctory. The stirring he’d imagined to feel in his belly he’d felt, but not for the nameless partner, but more for the act itself. He’d been left wondering if there was more, something beyond the fluttering like moths wings and mild nausea he’s still unsure was from the touch of another's lips or his nerves alone.

His second was rushed, drunken and hazy, the remnants of it only tickling at the edges of brown liquor-poisoned flashes of dimly lit sights and muffled sounds. His pockets were left lighter from too many coins spent for something so unmemorable. 

His third was better. Confidence and less alcohol proved to be improved bedfellows than his previous encounter, experienced lips matching his eagerness and hands finding purchase on areas before unexplored by soft fingers. He’d flushed at the intimacy of the act, thought back on it fondly, but remembered her hands far more than her mouth. Perhaps that is to be expected.

The few more that followed brought pleasure and exploration, but each one leaving him searching for that elusive something…something life-altering, something poetic, something… more . Looking back at his diary from that time, his confusion over his own feelings, or lack thereof, is etched into the pages with long dry ink. How could he have known something so seemingly unknowable to a man of two and twenty.

The next was his last, the last of the life he’d known before and first of the life irrevocably reshaped after.

Every millisecond of it is etched on his heart, forever being retraced with each minute that passes spent by her side. The warmth from the blush blooming beneath the impossibly soft skin of her cheek, it still causes his fingertips to flex at the slightest reminder. Her eyes, two swirling oceans of impossible blue, wide and questioning, slowly fluttering closed as he'd drawn her closer. He’d never felt so exposed, so uncertain, yet confusingly certain at the same time. That slight pull in his gut he’d felt before, it was nothing contrasted to the plummet his stomach had taken as the plump fullness of her bottom lip made contact with his own. If he’d known what electricity to feel like, he’d have been able to describe it with perfect accuracy. It was quick and searing, warmth being drug to the surface of his skin at the speed of a herd of wild horses tearing across a meadow. And then it was gone, over far too soon and leaving him near panicked and needy in ways when he looks back on he can’t help but feel foolish. He can’t give himself the credit of courageousness or strength for drawing her back in, for it had been born out of necessity, an inability to not have his lips back where they belonged. With each soft slide of her mouth against his own and the warmth of her breath igniting the space between them from the sighs escaping her throat...the formula, the construction, the intricacies of how a kiss was supposed to feel came crashing through the haze he’d been wandering through much too far away.

Entirely too far away from her .

How was he to know that this thing he’d been searching for had been here all along? 

Not this thing, this person . This singular being who made it all make sense.

Pen.

[christinedaaeunofficial]

did my taxes

[mushrooms-queen]

Y'all know I just HAD to draw @juxtaposedpunk 's office lady 😤😤