It was supposed to be an innocent Amazon purchase. A cowkini and cow-eared headband – just a little something to impress a certain special someone with. But all it took was for her to stand before her bathroom mirror to realize something was amiss.
“Wh-…what?“ Andrea’s hands moved to cradle her breasts. Just minutes ago, she was an A cup on the best of days – but now she was filling out the bikini quite handsomely. They were perfectly round, perfectly perky; together with her slender frame, she would have been perfect fodder for a fashion magazine. “I… something’s wrong,” she said, narrowing her eyes and leaning forward. Her boobs gently bounced against the palms of her hands. “I have never been this busty before…“
Maybe her chest heard her remark; maybe they were provoked as she gave them an exploratory squeeze. But in an instant, they began to swell even more – rapidly inflating like they were being pumped up with air. “EEEP!” Andrea’s shriek was coupled with a panicked step backward, but her hands kept themselves gripped tightly to her bust. Not that her grasp kept them from bouncing with her movements, of course. The way they swayed back and forth like pendulums made it obvious that they were natural through and through. If they were C cups before, they were venturing into watermelon territory by now.
“My boobs are growing! Oh my god! Oh my god oh my god oh my god-“ Though Andrea may have been the one panicking, her words would have been equally as fitting if they came from her cowkini top. Straps stretched until they were as taut as guitar strings, desperate to just keep up with her growth – and then they were promptly swallowed up by her rising, billowing flesh. Areolae escaped from beneath the triangles of cowprint fabric like water spreads outward from an overturned bucket. And all of this was to say nothing of the pressure; Andrea’s features contorted into pain as the straps dug deeper and deeper into her skin.
“Too much… too heavy…” Andrea’s backpedaling led her to collide against the wall behind her. Her eyes shot open. The mirror confronted her with her new reality: a cartoonishly top-heavy body that would turn heads and intimidate door frames. A long line of cleavage separated the two jiggling masses – which somehow never stopped quaking even though her hands hadn’t yet left their undersides. How could they? The soft sensation was just too exquisite; it was like she was holding her fingers underneath a warm chocolate fondue fountain. Breast blubber drooped over her hands like a blanket, layering on thicker and thicker, until-
SNAP!
The cowkini top split in two like it had been sliced with a sword. Straps fluttered through the air like bits of confetti – and her gargantuan tits, now freed from any kind of pressure, rounded out into their natural, satisfyingly-oblong shapes. They were big enough that they obscured her belly button, and wide enough that they could easily be seen from behind. “…oh my god, I’mmassive,“ Andrea moaned, her hands on top of her head; they had finally found something else to occupy themselves with. “I don’t think I could even reach my nipples if I tried…“
But just as she extended her arms, just as she outstretched her trembling fingers, just as she wanted to see if she could – her nipples (now the size of Atari joysticks) erected themselves and sprayed down her mirror like a pressure washer. Perhaps most memorable was the sound; it was not worlds away from how water batters the windshield of a vehicle in a car wash. Gallons of her product flooded the sink, poured off the counter, soaked into the grout between the tiles on the floor, and slipped between her bared toes.
The milk eventually died down, but not before forming a pool of milk that was ankle-deep. Andrea’s hands toured her new, gelatinous bust, kneading and squeezing every square inch. Her face sported so vivid a blush that it would make tomatoes jealous. “…w-well… at least I’ll get his attention now,” she said under her breath. Her eyes glanced at the remains of her cowkini floating in the milky tides. “I say this purchase was well worth it~“
it’d be pretty wild if an assassin’s creed game had a side quest where you make damascus steel in painful detail and then someone tries it irl for shits and giggles youtube views and it turns out that it’s the actual real method of how to make damascus steel but when they try to dig through the dev history to find who wrote the quest that rediscovered damascus steel it turns out that someone had mailed the recipe to ubisoft headqquarters and it was used as the design document
Once upon a time, there was an order that mistakenly included 10 waiter’s notepads. We have learned to appreciate them over time to record notes, scribbles, shopping lists or ideas. In the meantime, we can no longer imagine everyday life without these analog hard drives and would therefore like to treat the waiter’s pad to a series on Instagram, a tribute to the good old paper notepad. If you want to follow the daily dose of notepad: Instagram
Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?
Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project
What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)
Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)
What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?
What character do you have the most fun writing?
What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?
Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?
Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?
How would you describe your writing process?
What do you envy in other writers?
Do you want your writing to be famous?
Do you share your writing online? (Drop a link!) Do you have projects you’ve kept just for yourself?
At what point in writing do you come up with a title?
Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)?
Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)
Do you think readers perceive your work - or you - differently to you? What do you think would surprise your readers about your writing or your motivations?
Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.
Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)
Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)
What other medium do you think your story would work well as? (film, webcomic, animated series?)
Do you reread your old works? How do you feel about them?
What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?
I found this lovely picrew (and it’s taking every ounce of my self control not to change my icon into this because I only just updated it a couple days ago) and I love it so much that I want to share it!! I love how accurate this one is, I love the colors, textures, aesthetic <3
