#i need me some Big Beefers !!!!!!

[carbonateddelusion]

[through gritted teeth] old trans men who are in love ..

[martuzzio]

HERMITCRAFT CATCHPHRASES

Hi, here's a (hopefully comprehensive) reference list of hermit catchphrases! The main goal here is to help writers and artists who (like me) might struggle with getting the characterization of some hermits right. Check out more info at the end of the post!

Note: this list updates a lot whenever I get new suggestions, which means reblogs aren't always fully accurate. I've linked this post to the top of my blog so it's easy to access the most recent version :)

Bdubs Shreep / uh-oh, gotta shreep! Crastle I love ya to death It’s gorgee Beyootiful Uh oh! Hell’s blazes! Hawsies YOU'LL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO! Shuddup! Judas priest! Bdubs' PERFECT REDSTONE!! What in the world! Holy cow! Nuh-uh! Hoimycraaaaaf Whimsy Trying my heart out

Beef EEskall That was my nickname in college! Nailed it! Dangit! Beefy Tunes Smelly Etho Opulent Etho? Oh, yeah, I own him Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Beef taught Etho about redstone Oh my goodness! Oh boy! What the heck Oh, baby! Quote unquote A ton of __

Cleo Class dismissed! I don’t need your stinky torches I will break your legs Trash is fish The answer to everything is leather pants Not because it’s the sand castle you deserve, but it’s the sand castle I need! What did you do, Joe…. It's FINE, everything's FINE Lovely Silly I mean... Not gonna lie... To be fair...

Cub DA CREAMADA CROP Alright guys Nice, nice Ladies and gentlemen / ladies and gentlemen, we got ‘em Eeeeasy money Beautiful, absolutely beautiful Mmmmmhmmmmmm Holy smokes Let's goooo! Sweet Oh, baby! Man, oh man Without further ado Peace out Cheers / cheers, man There's some heat coming off that thing

Doc Are you kidding me now? Alright guys Can’t touch this The G.O.A.T. Etho, get to the damn land man! It all started when Grian touched my redstone… Epic

Etho Uh-huh Like-a so Oh snap Get your snacks! Holy smokes! Take care, have a good day, bye bye Aww snappers! Aww yeah Von Sway I barely know ‘er! Speaking of llamas Bright blue bamboo E. to the T. to the your mum Beefaroni / Beefers Speaking of llamas… That’s what she said! Free glass Eyy, I go up and I go down. Ladders! / Eyy, ladders! Suckerrrr! Check it out

False Blimey Awh dude Frick False Supremacy Oh my goodness I don't know about you guys, but... Props to __ I'm not gonna lie...

Gem Gem is great Her [name] is [adjective]! Gem will __ ("Gem will watch Impulse") Perfect! Epic It's true, I swear! Not gonna lie... Oh gosh! Trust the process Nailed it!

Grian Hello! My name is Grian Good… byeeeee! Pesky bird My heart! My little heart! Mumbo Mumbo you are AFK Can we just agree that Mumbo loses? What in Queen Elizabeth’s shiny crown was that? It wasn't me, it was the man in the chicken costume! SaAaaaAaAnd Chobblesome SCAR NO— / NO SCAR— In theory… Electric boogalooo What does this button do? What on earth? This is in shambles Get outta here! Hear me out... We don't have __. What we DO have is __ Just straight up Without further ado Crack on Bingo bango Yes. 100%

Hypno Right, right Mmhmm You guys Dang guy

Impulse What’s goin on everyone? Shovel Shuffle BEHIND YOU GEM! Peeps Geez Let's goooo! Are you kidding me? Oh, man Now we're talkin'! Holy smokes Oh my gosh How cool is that? Jeez! Dang it! Buddy Presi (for present) You bet!

Iskall Hallo -skall ("richskall") That’s mega / that’s looking absolutely mega Omega “Excuse me? Sir?” __ of doom Okay, lol And I will see you dudes in the next episode I’ve had a realization Oh for goodness sake! It’s not fat, it’s big-boned Not gonna lie SaAaaaAaAnd Very fine Great success! Bird poop Bumbo Cactoni Do you even bust? / Do you even bust bro E Pag

Jevin Hypno smells! Oh my god Sucker What the heck Dude Man I swear

Joe Howdy y’all! That’s the Joe Hills difference! I will now say a poem of my own devising Core concept Keep adventurin’! Time skip! Who’s the guy who conquers death? That’s Joe Hills No not rage quitting I have to pick up my daughter from school or my wife will rage quit me! Grow Hills / Expand Joe Joepacity / Jhost

Keralis Look into my eyes and nothing but my eyes Wanna buy a book? Spank you very much Just sit back, relax, and enjoy Like this, like that I can see my house from here! Bubbles, Shashwammy, Sweetface, Princess Lookie lookie at my cookie / lookie lookie at my cookie… no, please don’t Like-a so I love your face I’m a real boy! I don’t k-nove (know) Not like this! Booshes Clever girl But first… lemme take a selfie I’m sinking… mayday mayday we’re sinking! Hallo yes dis is de German coast guard what are you sinking about? Scary harry larry I’m alayve! Breathtaking — no you’re breathtaking Mm-kay Oh behave I’m a simple man MeOOOow Welcome to my humble abod-ee Not too shabby My face! My palms are sweaty, mom’s spaghetti Tag 2 Booga Booga Stiffy nipples Batman! First I was afraid, I was petrified...

Mumbo I worry about myself sometimes I'm not really quite sure if I like that or not Yeah… yeah that's looking good… I guess… Dude! Chuffed to bits It’s a bit pants I’m such a spoon Oh my word It’s quite simple, really / it’s actually quite simple Bonkers I’ll catch you in the next one. See ya Off you pop Oh goodness me! Hermit challenges — initiation! All done and dusted To be frankly honest Seriously seriously cool Absolutely nuts I don’t even know what to say Iskall I feel sick Peace, love, and plants Moon’s big Mumbo for Mayor Quite simple

Pearl Lovely Bonkers At this point... Cheeky / you cheeky What's this? Mate

Ren Now we’re cooking with gas / we be cooking with gas today Ladies, get in line! / ladies, gentlemen, everybody get in line! You picking up what I’m putting down My dudes Y’know what I’m sayin’ Coming atcha frommmmmm Dude Coming from left, right, and center Greetings cyberdogs and citizens of the Interwebs, this is Ren-diggity-dog comin at ya in another episode from the Hermitcraft server (ey!) Automagically Jazztastic Janktastic Oh baby Like nobody’s business Looking absolutely magnificent Anyhoozle Twaddle Renstone The Octagon is a well-oiled machine! [word]-age [word]-ation [word]-i (to make things plural You love / hate to see it I'm just sayin' / if you know what I'm sayin' Professional __ Jazz Anyhoozle Exqueeze me? Freakin' Some serious __ What's happenin', baby? Chesticles

Scar Scarred for life Woah, what in the world! It’s gonna be am-ay-zing LOOK at the siiiiize of that Well, hello there my fellow miners and crafters, GoodTimesWithScar here. Welcome back to the wonderful world of Hermits and crafting Don’t forget to subscribe or you might just become scarrrred for life! Looking super fancy Let’s hit super fast build mode! Look at the size of that Appreciate ya Hotguy! Operation: Aquathunder! That’s what she said! Rapscallion You silly goose Oh, sweet baby Jellie! Bayum! / Bam! The bee's knees Easy peasy, orangey squeezy

Stress Are you havin’ a giggle? / are you takin the mic? Mate Oh my god / oh my gosh / oh my good gordons Gorgeous Plonker Geezer Ohhhhh nooooo! Yeeeesshhh I legged it Such a pro / I'm such a pro Proper __ Cheeky Bloke Thingamajig Ain't [word]-age [word]-ies

Tango Happy fun sauce -ificator, -inator, -ness, -tastic Skadoodle Fearsome bunny slippers Noob juice So here’s the deal Holding shift Shwoop Flim flam Poop came out Extra dumb with dumb sauce / __ of extra dumb Flee with extra flee! / fleeing with terror! Boom booms Gah! The dungeon is ready for its next victim Behold! Results may vary! I think my math is correct, but it’s been known to be wrong This is the worst timeline. I hate everything Big no! You— you freak of nature! Jerkface Jerkbutt Excellent How embarassing This is true Zombert Bits This I gotta see! Right in the face! [word] is happening Yeah baby! Stupid jerks Boop This is the best / worst thing ever! Niner niner niner [general unintelligible noises]

TFC What in tarnation! Crap-tacular Humongous Butt-ugly Ugly as sin Oh, goody Ender-twits Bugger Oh, fart For crying out loud

Wels Words are hard If you will Super __

xB Aww yeah Mmkay Son of a biscuit Pretty frickin' __ Man Get frickin' wrecked! Chestacle Dang it Staaph it Oy vey Crap on a cracker Dang it, Bobby! Dang guy

Xisuma Oh goodness me Oh dangit Geez Peeps I’m such a derp Oh my days Chooturial Issooma Allo Woa’ah Brought (instead of bought) My dude Achacha

Zed Hello hello hello A-good a-bye Muckin' about I lied TaaaAAnnGoOOooooOOOo Hu-jah! Pretty darn __ Certainly Rubbish I'm [word]-ing [word] me [word]-iness What happens is... Get kersplatted! Epic Oh my goodness!

More Info

So I'm currently writing a HC fic and realized how little I know about some of the hermits (I unfortunately don't have time to watch all of them), which made it really difficult to depict them properly in my writing. I'm assuming at least some of you might also struggle with this, so, here we are!

If you know of a catchphrase from any hermit from any season, comment, reblog, send me a an ask or dm, dm me on discord, whatever works the best :D

Note: when I say "catchphrase," I mean anything a hermit repeats over an extended period of time. It can be something said during a single season (like "You'll speak when spoken to!" or "Hermit Challenges!"), or something that spans their entire careers (like "Aww snappers!" or "Plonker"). I'm not looking for one-off quotes that are never bought up again — there's some great sources (like @hermitcraft-correct-quotes) for that already :)

Sources (which will hopefully expand with time): This reddit post from four years ago This other reddit post also from four years ago Reddit from three years ago This cute diagram A more up to date source Another Xisuma's dictionary on his website HC character tv tropes page This incredible google doc

[siriannatan]

“Can you come and get me right now . . . please?” - BeefEtho

As with the whole series, the prompt was found @deity-prompts

I just could not delay posting this one.

Warning: PTSD, panic attack (I think these are the closest to what happens)

AO3

When Etho assured Beef he was perfectly okay to go and pick up their lunch while his lovely angel of a boyfriend continued fighting their new apartment he might have overestimated himself. Or to be more precise, he overestimated his own ability to handle people without Beef right next to him. He got overwhelmed the moment he stepped into the coffee shop.

There weren't that many people inside but still far more than Etho would ever be comfortable with when alone. He somehow, by some in no way small miracle, managed to grab their order and leave the shop. Getting back home was not something Etho saw himself as able to do. Even getting to the nearest, completely empty bench and taking it all to himself with the help of his bag of sandwiches and a tray of coffee cups was a big thing right now. And he even didn't curl up. And managed to pull out his phone and pick Beef's number on the first try.

"Hi E, how..." Beef's voice did not make him feel better on its own.

“Can you come and get me right now . . . please?” Etho managed to choke out as his hands started to shake. His brain was catching up to that he was out. Alone. And nowhere close to anyone he was familiar with.

"Should I stay on call?" Beef asked, gentle and kind as he always was. Patient despite all the mess Etho was, and all the trouble and interruptions he caused... "E? Love?" slamming of doors and jingling of keys broke Etho from his spiral. 

"I should be fine... I'll call if it gets worse?" Etho managed to say while squeezing his thigh with his free hand. To stop himself from curling up. To distract himself from his brain telling him people were staring. They had better things to do than stare at him, he reminded himself what Beef always said whenever Etho got worried about that.

Beef did not hang up and chatted to Etho about wallpaper patterns and tiles of all things. They weren't even planning to put wallpaper on any of their walls and they were leaving all the tiling as it was for now. But, as random as the topic was, it managed to distract Etho's brain until Beef cut through the crowd. Overalls half undone, covered in lavender paint. There was some on his beard too but Etho was too busy trying to not break down right then and there.

"I'm here," Beef gentle, kind, stable. The only thing keeping Etho from crumbling down in all ways and senses. "Let's get you home?" he wasted no time grabbing the bags and offering Etho an arm to hold on to. "We can go as slow or fast as you need," he assured the moment he saw how unsteady Etho was.

"I'm sorry..." Etho mumbled, he tried to walk on his own but almost instantly had to rely on Beef to stay upright. "I'm a nui..."

"How about we order pizza for dinner?"

Etho just nodded, putting all the endurance he had left into at least walking. Being carried all the way back would be the worst. "'Love'ya Beefers..."

"Love you too E. A lot and no matter what." Etho would never admit how much these words meant to him... Maybe when Beef was asleep and could not hear him he would say something but for now, he was content to clutch onto Beef's arm on their short but very slow walk home. Their new home. Just theirs...

[waywardrose-archive]

for the prompts, could you do L from the fluff alphabet with flip? ❤️ love your writing so much !!

And I love you, sweet nonny, for giving me this prompt. Thank you!

pairing: flip zimmerman x reader

rating: mature

warning/tags: vague injury description, anachronistic sports teams and organizations, semi-public fingering

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Prompt from the Fluff Alphabet

-

QUEEN OF THE ROLLER DERBY

Flip bought a hot dog, nachos, and a Pepsi from the concession. That should hold him until he could get home to have a real dinner. He steadied the cardboard tray as he made his way back to his seat in the middle of the stands, T. Rex thumping through the PA system. The crowd wasn’t huge. Only the lower six or so rows on either side of the rink were occupied.

He couldn’t believe… Well, a lot of things. First, that he’d been invited. Second, that he was looking forward to the bout. Third, that he was anxious for your well-being.

On the fifth date, you’d shown up at the pizza parlor with a white wrist brace on. He’d been instantly concerned. Had you been in an accident? Had some asshole attacked you? Did he need to kick their ass?

You’d laughed. It was melodic and bright, and he adored it. “Nah! I took a tumble during practice.”

“Practice?” he’d asked.

Your head dipped, and you combed your hair back behind an ear with your non-injured hand. “I’m part of a roller derby team.”

“I didn’t know Colorado Springs had one of those.”

“Well, uh, it does. Pikes Peak Derby Dames.”

Before he could ask more questions, the waitress came around to get the order. You both agreed on a Leave It To Beefer pizza and pitcher of beer. After she left, he told you to tell him all about roller derby.

You glowed as you explained the rules, the strategy, and the lingo. Your enthusiasm was infectious. You told funny stories about your teammates. You had him throwing his head back with laughter as you finished the team-joke about fake farts.

He’d thought he understood women, but apparently, he didn’t know jack or shit. You were secretly bawdy and snarky. You were proud of the bruises and abrasions you’d earn during derby bouts. You sometimes snorted when you laughed. You were a smart-ass. Like a disguise, you wore prim cardigans sets and conservative kitten heels at work. At first glance, you two seemed to be a mismatch. But oh, everyone was wrong.

You were fucking perfection.

He finished the hot dog before the announcer came to the middle of the rink. Everyone cheered for both teams. The bout was between the Dames and the SoCo Derby Dollz. There were a few fans who had signs and they hoisted them high as the skaters rolled onto the rink.

Flip almost didn’t recognize you as you joined your teammates, waving to the crowd as you did. Your derby name was Mazel Tov Cocktail, firstly. Which was delightful. You had on cut-off jean shorts, pink fishnet hose, and knee-high athletic socks. You’d cut the sleeves off your black-and-green team jersey and under it you wore a pink tank top. Your hair was pinned back, your mouthguard in place, and your makeup was minimal. Your high-top skates were worn-in and only laced past the ankle. The laces were wrapped around the boot and tied in a secure bow. Your joint pads and helmet cover matched your team’s, too, so it was easy to discern the players—even at a distance.

The first jam started, and you were in the big group of women. There was a stripe on your helmet cover, which if memory served, designated you as a Pivot. The crowd went wild as the players began hip-checking and blocking while going at breakneck speed. He watched you sweep around the rink, hugging the inner boundary line like a pro.

You were intimidating and aggressive. You snarled at the Dollz’s skaters and knocked them off the track without hesitation. Your strong—and shapely, he noted—legs pumped you faster and helped you juke. You whipped the Dames’ Jammer—the main scorer—ahead and assisted in netting the first points of the night.

He was in awe. You were incredible. You were sexy as hell.

The match went on like that. Some jams you skated, others you didn’t. In one of the last jams, you were passed the star, making you a Jammer. The Dollz in the rink gunned for you. The tension rose as two of the Dames’ Blockers were knocked off the track.

He shot to his feet and yelled for you to go go go.

A Dollz caught up to you and tried to jab at your calf—a move deserving of a penalty. The refs didn’t catch it, though. The skaters were clumped too tightly together. It hardly mattered because you leapt into the air, avoiding the offending, jabbing boot.

He pumped his fist. “That’s my girl!”

You landed with a resounding clack and kept fucking skating. Holy shit. You broke away from the pack and led the way to scoring the Dames another few points, ending that jam.

The crowd roared, and he barely recognized he’d joined them.

You found him in the crowd as you returned to the bench. You waved at him, looking happy with your face shiny with sweat. He proudly pointed at you before giving a thumbs-up. You laughed and threw him a kiss.

The bout ended in excitement, the Dames winning 134 to 129. The Dames flooded their side of the rink circling the five skaters who’d won the final jam. The Dollz rolled over and congratulated the Dames. He could see some high-fives and compliments being exchanged.

Flip slipped on his jacket and rushed down to the floor. You broke away from the skaters with a huge smile just for him. He opened his arms and caught you as you launched yourself at him. You shrieked as he lifted you off the floor to spin you around.

“You were great, baby,” he said as he slowed and let you slide down his front.

Fuck, you looked so good. Your hair was messy from the helmet. You were happy. And free. And everything he loved.

You leaned against him, hands on his biceps, and beamed. “It wasn’t just me.”

“I only saw you.”

Your eyes darkened, and you grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling him into a fiery kiss. He put his hands on your waist to keep himself from clutching at your delectable ass in front of all and sundry. It hardly mattered, though, because you kissed him deeply—with tongue and teeth and hot lips.

You pulled away to whisper, “Hang back for a few and meet me in the visitor’s locker room.”

He nodded with an “okay” and let you go. You rolled back to your team, and then as one, both teams left the rink. He meandered to the men’s john and used the facilities. As he was washing his hands, it hit him how wonderful he felt when he was with you. He realized this—you—might be it for him.

Flip casually strolled to the locker-room hallway, a group of Dollz passing him on the way. The hallway was empty, but he hurried to the visitor’s room just the same. He knocked on the door and received no reply. He ducked in, looking around and finding it deserted.

He was checking the surprisingly clean toilet stalls when the main door creaked open. He peeked around the tiled partition to watch you roll into the room. You whispered his name as you came to the center of the room. You spun around, caught sight of him, and startled yourself.

“Dammit, Zimmerman, you scared me.”

He grinned as he stepped forward. “Sorry.”

You harrumphed with a smirk and a roll of your eyes as you wheeled closer. He thought you were going to stop just in front of him, but you didn’t. You pressed yourself against him, hugging him close and making him lean hard against the wall.

“Thank you for coming,” you murmured.

He put his arms around you and kissed your sweat-damp hair. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Thanks for not being a dick about me playing a sport.”

He softly asked you to look at him, and when you did, he said, “You were great out there. I’m…” He shook his head and hoped this didn’t sound condescending. “Really proud of you.”

Your eyes teared up, and he replayed the last few seconds to make sure he hadn’t fucked it all up. You suddenly let out a little laugh and moved up to kiss him. Okay, he thought, he hadn’t fucked up.

You practically mashed yourself against him. Your fingers went into his hair and pulled at it to tilt his head. He couldn’t stop his groan. Because, oh shit, your body was rubbing against him as you licked into his mouth. For a second, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. And then got it under control. He finally put his hands on your firm ass and squeezed.

You whimpered all kittenish and arched your back. Your bound breasts were tight to his chest. He wanted to peel you out of your layers and just— Fuck. …Yeah. He wanted to kiss you everywhere, eat you out until you came all over his tongue, his lips, his chin, the bed. He was desperate to drive his cock deep inside you and give you pleasure.

He found the button of your jeans between your bodies and popped it free.

You pulled back to slur, “Wha—?”

“Let me touch you, baby. Let me give you something good.” He ducked down to kiss just under your jaw. “You— You’re so good.”

“I’m all sweaty…”

“So? You’re all dirty. What’s a little more?”

You cursed, gripping his hair for a moment before nodding. He kissed you one more time and then urged you to turn around. He spread his feet and leaned against the cool tile. You backed your ass right to his groin. He gripped your hips and ground his half-hard dick in the valley between your cheeks. He could feel the heat of your body despite the layers.

You whined, “Flip…”

That made him go a little crazy. He fisted your jersey to yank you flush on him. He urged your hands up behind his neck, cupped your breasts, and kissed your neck. You tasted like clean salt and soap. He had the thought of showering with you, rubbing suds all over your naked, wet body.

Jesus Christ. If he didn’t get his head in the game, he was going to come from his own fantasies.

He slid his hands down your curved torso to the fly of your little shorts. He tugged the zipper tab down and pulled the flaps open. He snaked an arm around your waist and creeped his free hand under the band of your fishnets.

“Are you wet, babygirl?”

You wiggled in his hold and whispered, “Yes.”

“You feel how hard I am for you?”

You mewled “yes” again and writhed, rubbing right over his cock. He didn’t know how you were keeping steady with wheels under you, but he was impressed. And turned on. He dragged his teeth against your neck and left open-mouthed kisses in their wake.

“Please, Flip.” You sounded breathless and full of yearning.

He would never deny you. He slipped his hand inside your underwear. Your skin was like silk, so tender and fine. He combed his fingers through your bush down to your wet slit. You let out a soft sigh in relief.

His ears were buzzing, and he thought the top of his head was going to pop off. He eased his middle finger between your slick folds and traced gentle lines up and down your pussy. He teased at your opening before moving up to find the bud of your clit. He knew he found it perfectly when you stiffened in his arms.

“Riiiiight there,” he commented, a pleased smile on his lips.

You nodded. “Uh-huh. There.”

He rolled the pad of his finger over your clit. “Love making you feel good.”

“Love when you do.”

He kept going, circling and stroking your clit. “Oh yeah? What else you love?” He knew he found the right rhythm when you dug your nails into his neck.

“Your—” You panted. “Kisses,” you whisper. “The way you hold me— Oh shit, don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby.”

He tightened his hold and worked his ring finger in next to his middle. He knew he was giving you direct, unrelenting contact now. You gasped and stiffened in his arms. He rested his cheek on the side of your head and tried to look down your body. All he could see was the swell of your heaving breasts under your shirt.

“You know what else I love?” he asked.

“Wh-what?”

“You,” he murmured. “I love you.”

You sobbed and let your head fall back on his shoulder. “I love you, too!”

He pressed harder, needing you to come now. You clawed at him and squirmed and tried to spread your knees, but he held you fast. He encouraged you to come.

There was a breathless, silent second before you did.

“Love you, I do,” you brokenly grit out. “I do, I love—oh fuck, I do!”

His cock pulsed as he returned your love, and his balls drew up as he felt the contractions of your orgasm. If you kept talking like that, he probably would mess his shorts like a kid. Luckily, you didn’t. But he needed to get you home. He really, really needed to get you home. He had condoms there. He could lay you across his bed and take you how he wanted.

After you calmed, he offered, “Come back to my place.”

You huffed out a giggle. “That’s what I was gonna ask you.”

“Up to you, baby, I don’t care where we go.”

-

note: I read this prompt and immediately recalled Leon Russell’s “Queen of the Roller Derby” and Jim Croce’s “Roller Derby Queen”. So if you’re wondering how I arrived at this premise, there you go. 😅

[literaphobe]

i don’t want to be invasive or anything but what about the episode was an issue? (Sorry if this bothers you 🙁)

i think my biggest issue was how the b plot just really clashed w the a plot? like (am putting some of my thoughts down here bc u know who cares):

amy solving a sexual assault case vs holt catching an 80 year old w a determination that stemmed from a rivalry rather than a need to keep streets safe

amy working so hard on the case mostly on her own (occasional advice from rosa, jake she had to sort of convince not to drop the case by telling her own experiences) vs terry and charles devoting themselves to whole-heartedly helping holt w an investigation that wasn’t even a case that frankly wasn’t even important and the episode wasn’t at all self aware about how almost pointless it was to even. pursue this 

jake having to hear about amy’s experiences w sexual harassment before choosing to devote himself to working the case and not dropping it even though. he literally has worked several times harder for cases w far less stakes. and it kind of. maybe. idk maybe i’m thinking too deeply about this but. it perpetuates the Men Can Only Care About Women’s Issues If They Personally Know A Woman thing and like. so it feels like the show is inadvertently saying that if jake hypothetically was working this case alone he would have dropped it? he would have reduced it to a whole sometimes cases don’t get solved situation and left it at that? and this went ignored 

a plot being about how women go unheard and their words ignored, their intentions misconstrued vs b plot where only woman involved is accused (by a man) of falling for a man’s charms and doing his bidding (and he’s proven RIGHT) and that’s literally the entire purpose she serves in the plot. she does what a man wants and suffers and has no ulterior motive 

jake getting an ‘i love you’ from amy bc he watched a documentary about feminism,,,,,, uh,,,,,,,,,,,,,, why are we rewarding men for the bare minimum again,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, 

me being v uneasy when amy pushed that lady to press charges bc yeah she’s a white woman in a sort of position of power and she has money but also. in the real world i truly don’t feel like a case like that would’ve gotten such a deus ex machina and for most of the ep when watching you can’t help feeling that amy made the wrong choice somehow even though you know that this is a show where the characters Win 

jake and amy being shocked that the woman whose case they solved would have the audacity to quit their job after worked so hard to get her job back and her reasons being change in perceptions from her coworkers --> she will never be considered for promotions,,, failing to address that hey,,, maybe people don’t tend to want to work at places where they were sexually assaulted? where they were sexually harassed? and it’s strange for the show to have THIS be the reason and have amy react to the lady quitting the same way jake did even though she herself transferred to the 9-9 for reasons along that line (the lady’s being hostile work environment, amy’s being quid pro quo, aka the two types of sexual harassment) 

ep could’ve benefitted more if they did this one before chelsea left, an extra main female character voice could’ve brought more to the discussion 

ep makes the corporate office folk (eg beefer who turned in evidence only for their own gain plus the guy who said the money was offered not as hush money but to fix that lady’s problems???) the bad guys bc yes they are bad but fails to acknowledge how a big reason sexual assault cases get thrown out is bc the police brush them off, there’s no mention or inclusion of how that’s an issue etc etc the perspectives there were largely To Sue or Not To Sue 

jfc there really shouldn’t have been a b plot at all this episode could’ve covered so much more ground if the episode just focused on this case or maybe brought in a further complexity that wouldn’t have made it seem like this is the first ever sexual assault case their precinct has gotten bc. this happens a lot 

and bc of that this ep feels like a cash grab 

[kyaada]

Marketing Belly Master Bait

by kyaada

Ever since Barrett started working at Chunk’s in the mall, he’d developed a bit of a cult following.  Barrett’s collection of too-tight tee shirts never failed to highlight every succulent bump and bulge, and the tops combined with packed skinny jeans never failed to impress.  Barrett had the most amazing pair of bubbled buns sitting atop mature tree trunk-sized thighs, finished off with meaty calf muscles.  Of course, his immaculate fade and neatly trimmed beard gave him a timeless look of masculinity to his handsome features, deep blue eyes, and pearly white smile.  When Chunk’s manager realized what a draw his recently hired ex-military muscled hunk had become, he immediately put him in the window-- so to speak.

After Barrett had finished his main tasks, the manager would set him up in a front table alongside the main walkway with one of the biggest sandwiches.  Chunk’s was known for their huge stacked sandwiches and fresh breads, warning patrons that they may need to loosen their belts to finish one of the enormous two-handed sammies.  The live eating demo was effective in drawing in a variety of customers.  At the beginning of the sandwich, lady shoppers would file in to gawk at the handsome young stud while they’d split their lunch and still take half home.  Near the end of the sandwich,  Barrett would slow down a bit and labor as his stomach filled to the top.  His tight tee shirt couldn’t hide his brawny tight bulge, and he’d just lazily lean back in his chair, giving up the thought of sucking it in.  The post-sandwich advertisement would draw in the fat hungry dudes looking for a nice full gut, and Barrett would inspect them like cattle as they’d pile in for a good feeding.  

A couple of months passed, and Barrett couldn’t help but notice how difficult it had become to squeeze into this hot jeans, much less get them buttoned.  The big 6’2” ex-military hunk would stand in front of his bathroom mirror rotating around to inspect his budding love handles and protruding belly, still flexing his biceps to validate his manliness.  Barrett would grope each of his pecs with satisfaction, causing each of his nipples to poke out against his tighter tee shirt.

One day, Barrett went into work to find that his manager had decided to double his demo time by having him eat two of the smaller sandwiches, which together summed up to about one and a half of the biggest ones he’d been regularly devouring.  Initially, Barrett wasn’t too sure about the idea since he’d already fought especially hard with his top jeans button that morning.  The manager upped the ante with two extra-special sandwiches for him, and Barrett happily gorged himself on the thick and meaty deli treats.  The manager didn’t want him to have Barrett leave his feeding station for anything, so he brought him several Coke refills to keep washing down seemingly endless sandwich.  The manager even brought him a couple of their popular side salads because the big beefer was getting so swollen.

Business was especially good that day late in that lunch rush as lustful fat guys lined up for large sandwiches, drawn in by the potbellied poster boy in front.  Barrett just sat there like a god with his thick thighs pushed apart, shoulders back, and his stretched-taut belly bulging out from his marbled beefy pecs to his excruciatingly tight jeans waistband.  Barrett applied both of his hands to his blown-up round belly and alternated pushing in with rubbing on each side of the prominent bulge. The big overfed stud breathed shallowly due to how much room his stomach was taking away from his lungs, and he managed a few choice belches that brought in some more wide-eyed guys.  Chunk’s manager came out from the back after adjusting his impossibly hard dick in his jeans and approached his prime Grade-A beefball that adorned the front of his restaurant.

Barrett rested his hands on his thighs as the manager came up to him, showing off how the sublimely tight well-worn cotton hugged every bump and bulge, and perfectly outlined his plump belly button. Barrett tilted his head back and looked his manager in the eyes, “Oh my God...I’m so ff-ff-uu-uu-ll-ll-ll-ll.”  The manager smirked as he reached down to push around on Barrett’s big bloated belly.  Engorged Barrett emitted a combination of grunts and belches, unable to tighten his long-softened abs enough to protect his pregnant belly against the directed pokes and musical thumping.  “Sorry, Barrett, we have those new Chunk-y S’Mores Cookies and we need to push ‘em.  That means, we’re gonna have to push this stomach of yours a little bit more.”

Barrett’s eyes somewhat crossed as he processed the latest directive.  “I dunno.  I think ...” Barrett paused to let out a really big burp, ��I think I might explode.”

“Nah,” said the manager, “a big strong guy like you? Pfft. That strong table muscle of yours will just s-t-r-e-t-c-h to accommodate extra loading.  The worst thing that might happen is that you’ll have to pop that top jeans button.”

“Okay, alright, well, let me get ‘em.” Barrett insisted, scooting his chair back with an obvious noise.  Spreading his thighs apart and dropping his hard gut through the open space, Barrett placed his hands on the tops of his legs to push himself upright.  It was no small amount of effort lifting his bulk off of the chair, but once he succeeded he had the attention of most of the diners in the seating area.  Barrett’s belly was bloated out in a circle in front of him, and the ultra-taut waistband of his ridiculously stuffed jeans was scrunched down to a fraction of its height.  Just south of the hefty gut was another bulge that eagerly pushed against the low-rise zipper. The manager followed the wobbling stuffed stud, smiling at all of the attentive chewing faces.  It was so difficult not to fixate on Barrett’s widened back and his stout bubble butt, and the manager fought hard not to just slap his fat ass.  

Once Barrett was standing, he realized that it was going to be harder than hell to sit back down and continue to eat, so he compromised with the manager to stand at the end of the counter by the register to stuff in his melty delicious cookies.  Capturing the attention of a very hefty daddy type in line waiting for his giant sandwich to be made, Barrett smiled at him and stretched his thick arms up in the air.  The hem of his overburdened tee shirt inched slowly up the sphere like a curtain rising on a stage as it bared the divine appearance of Barrett’s thick treasure trail and his perfectly shaped deep belly button.  The round-gutted daddy ventured closer to the register after being served his thick sandwich and dessert cookies, still captivated with the sight of Barrett’s bare crescent of belly and naughty zipper that had started to escape down its track.  

“Well, these sure looked good so I had to have some,” said the fattened daddy, winking at the manager, who stood beaming behind the extra full Barrett.  “After all, I gotta keep up my figure.  The food is always so  damn good and filling here-- I never know when to stop!”  The fattened daddy finished signing his credit card receipt and poked the capped end of the pen into the side of Barrett’s thoroughly pumped lunchball. “Looks like I’m not the only one, guy.”

Barrett chuckled as he ran his meaty hand across his swollen gut, “yup, the hazards of the job, I’m afraid.  You just gotta remember to stop before you pop!”

The manager put his hand on the big stud’s shoulder, “tell you what, why don’t you go have a seat with this nice gentleman while he enjoys his lunch, and I’ll make you one of our Gut Topper Cake Shakes.  Deal?”

“Gut Topper? Well, today, it might just become a Gut Popper...but okay.  Load me up...”

The two guys headed off for a table in the back of the seating area near the kitchen. The fat daddy couldn’t wait to start pushing food down his gullet, so he plopped his big butt down and started shoveling.  Barrett towered next to the table for a moment deep in thought, then reached under his enormous belly bulge to fight with his jeans button.  “Dude, I’m sorry, but these things are cutting me in half.”  The fat daddy’s cheeks bulged with food as he witnessed Barrett’s abdominal muscle contortions caused by the stuffed stud’s efforts to suck in the protuberant swell, but finally Barrett was able to pop open the top and breathe a little.

“Ooofff,” sighed Barrett, giving his rounded midsection an invigorating rub. Barrett held on to his zipper as he sat to make sure that the open “V” of his jeans didn’t spread too wide in a family restaurant.

“I couldn’t help but notice those jeans were pretty much painted on ya, big guy,” remarked the fat daddy.

“Yup, I’ve gained a few pounds since I started working at Chunk’s.  The manager feeds me up daily.”

“Daily feedings? You might want to get some pants with an elastic waistband so you can expand in comfort.”

Barrett hovered down and planted his meaty bubbles in the chair directly across from the fat daddy, pretty much looking like a leaned-back, very-pregnant Buddha.  

“Well, I know what that’s like to plan ahead for such things,” said the fat daddy, “my wife has been overfeeding me for years.”  He leaned back and thumped his obvious gut bulge, “can’t say that I mind too much, after all, I love food.” The fat daddy’s eyes cruised over the topography of Barrett’s tight tee shirt.  “I used to look like you when we first started dating, well, you about 50 pounds ago and before you stuffed your gut today.”

Barrett chuckled again, his facial expression slowly turning into concentration as he tried to do arithmetic in his head. “...and you’re not as tall as I am.  If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you weigh?”

“By the way, my name’s Josh.”  Both had to spread their thighs apart to make room for their bellies so that they could lean in to shake hands. “I don’t mind you asking me how much I weigh-- in fact, I just got my 300 pound ribbon at Recipe Club.”

“Recipe Club?”

“It’s something my wife got us into.  Just a small group started by women who love to cook or are learning how to cook, and they invite their guys to join them to enjoy their rather prolific production.”

“...and you got a ribbon?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s the opposite of what Weight Watchers rewards, but we watch our weight as well.  Watch it increase!”  Josh giggled. “Needless to say, the guys get more ribbons faster during the holidays.  We have to weigh in when we get there, and some of us weigh again as we’re leaving... just for fun.”

“What a trip!”

“...speaking of trips, we just took the kids through Vegas and then on a Disney cruise, and I can’t believe the amount of food.”  Josh continued through frequent large bites of sandwich, “it was like the ideal glutton vacation... I was powerless amongst all those buffets and high-calorie foods! My belly was so damn big and tight at the end of each night that you could have rolled me to our room. Roll... Burp... Roll... Burp...”

As Barrett was drawn in to the imagery of Recipe Club and Josh’s trip of unrestrained gorging, he wondered about the timing of certain things.  “So, when did you go from DadBod to DadBalloon?”

Josh got a good laugh out of the pointed question.  “Kid number two.”

As they were both still cracked up over Josh being fattened up, Chunk’s manager appeared with a large frosty cup and a funnel.  “Okay, Barrett, tilt and open!”

Josh smiled broadly as he detected Barrett’s newness to the concept, though he suspected that he must have beer bonged a little during some wild parties.  Barrett wrapped his full lips around the bottom of the funnel opening and the manager pushed it a little farther down into his mouth once he felt his lips tighten up to steady.  As he poured the giant vanilla cake shake slowly into the funnel, he was careful not to spill a drop.  Barrett’s eyes widened and he put his hand on top of his again-swelling belly.  Josh stuffed his face as he watched the bottom of Barrett’s rib cage rise as his bloatation device deployed fully.  One of the cooks was returning from his break and stopped by the filling station to put his hand on top of Barrett’s solid round protruding stomach ledge, “wow, it’s a Gut Topper!  Barrett-- you’re gettin’ to be a whopper!”  The cook couldn’t resist giving Barrett’s barrel a parting slap to hear him grunt.

Barrett’s breathing was getting quite labored towards the end of the giant shake, and his nipples were practically shooting through his ultra-taut tee shirt.  The advanced size of the Barrett’s fattened belly coaxed the hem up again to bare succulent skin and dark-colored fur.

Josh nearly choked shoving food into his mouth at such a high rate of speed, but he got down his enormous sandwich just as the manager finished loading Barrett’s firm round Buddha gut.  The manager lifted the funnel out of Barrett’s O-shaped mouth as the dangerously overfull stud licked shake remnants off of his lips and continued to swallow the rest down his gullet.  Barrett just had to sit there with his hands down his sides, feeling that his beefy pecs were about to bump him in the chin at any moment.  The manager nodded his head and reached down to thump the mighty round bellyful.  The combination of thick muscle walls, a nice layer of fat, and a thoroughly packed digestive tract made the most sublime of deep satisfied sounds.  

“Good God, that melon is ripe.” Josh critiqued, leaning back to rest his hand on top of his big sandwich lunch. “And Barrett bared it-- that shirt is too small for ya, big buddy!”

Barrett’s smile curled onto his lips with a bit of a delay caused by his food coma.  After the manager left, Barrett put his hands on his overblown balloon and rubbed.  

“Man, you look like how I felt after the 24 hour buffet pass in Las Vegas.  You know, I knew that it was going to be a bad thing-- I could tell when I walked in the first place and saw all of the groaning, belching guys.  They looked like fully engorged ticks about to pop. Well, that was me a day later because we just kept going back for more and more and more.  My lovely bride overate, my daughter got bored, but my son found his groove.   I was laughing at him little at breakfast because he’s got a weakness for waffles, pancakes, pastries, and bacon.”  Josh laughed as he listened to Barrett wheeze with his eyes half-closed; Barrett’s fully distended gut had swollen even more with the cake shake, pushing him farther back against his chair.  “Of course, he got me back later in the day after second dinner.  We were back in the room, and I was bloated out on the floor next to the couch while we were all watching a movie.  Ever since I read him “Hop on Pop” when he was a kid, he’s wanted to bounce on my belly-- especially after I eat too much. He thinks it’s really funny.”

Suddenly, Barrett emitted a lengthy bass-toned belch, causing both of them to laugh heartily.  Barrett patted his thoroughly round belly and flexed his pecs.  “I’m pretty sure that if anyone hopped on me right now, I’d pop for sure!”

Josh munched on his cookies and agreed.  “You could bounce a quarter off of that gut right now, Barrett.  You remind me of some of those big bloated-up young guys on the cruise ship.  Poppin’ Fresh Pillsbury Doughboys gorging their way to tight-skinned ecstasy, unbuckling their belts and stuffing themselves like Thanksgiving turkeys.  I would think ‘damn, I hope we don’t hit a rock and end up shipwrecked on some island full of hungry cannibals’” Josh said as he finished the last bite of his marshmallowy chocolatey gooey cookies.

“Ooof, a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey-- that’s how I feel at the moment,” Barrett admitted as he gave his stout round belly another rubbing.

“And look,” Josh said, supporting the astute observation. “Just squeeze you in between some big bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and sit a pumpkin pie on top of your belly ledge for dessert.”

Josh glanced at his watch and realized that he was late to get back to work.  “Guess I better get my fat ass in gear.”  Josh hoisted himself up, satisfied with the extra-large lunch and conversation, brushing past Barrett just as he took that moment to stretch his arms up in the air.  Josh paused to smack a couple deep-seated belches out of Barrett.  “Keep eatin’, big guy, keep rollin’ down that path to the big 3-0-0... but keep an eye out for cannibals!”

~.~

Many weeks passed, and Barrett’s allure changed somewhat to the ladies who lunched at Chunk’s.  It seemed that the amount of weight he’d gained was difficult for some of them to accept; after all, he’d plumped by forty pounds in a relatively short time after significantly long lunchtime stuffings.  Barrett still presented as quite beefy with one foot still in the gym, but there was no denying his big round belly and widened booty that mercilessly stuffed his shrinking wardrobe.  His handsome face had filled out accordingly and he had the start of a second chin hidden under his fuller beard; regardless, his piercing blue eyes and immaculate grooming still caused heads to pivot.  Josh the 300+ pound daddy continued to come in once a week to stuff himself with sandwich, and Barrett always treated him to at least one Gut Topper.  Josh would especially enjoy the belly blowout when Barrett personally funneled the extra creamy cake shake down his gullet.

Awhile back, the manager had hired a new cook when Chunk’s had added pizza to their calorie-driven menu.  Barrett had recognized the guy immediately from high school, although Peter’s 5’11” frame had filled out some since those earlier days.  Peter had been a swimmer all during high school and was always pretty wide-shouldered and lanky, which changed through his college experience in the dining halls.  Of course, Peter recognized Barrett right away as well, and would tease him about how fat he’d become.  Barrett would always comment right back about Peter’s modest college weight gain.  Chunk’s cooks wore nice pullover shirts that bore the restaurant’s logo on the left breast, and Peter’s shirt was always a little pizza sauce-splattered and tight.  Peter’s pudgy round belly pooched out over his Dockers taut waistbands, and no one could miss his pasta butt that stressed the seam in the back.

The two former schoolmates never really talked much in school, but they developed a friendly, yet somewhat tense, rivalry at work.  Peter was slightly jealous with the fact that Barrett got away with hardly working and mostly just eating while he sat on his constantly widening ass.  The manager had added pizza to Barrett’s daily demonstration, and Peter was usually the one that made the pie.  Peter would deliberately pile on additional toppings, knowing that Barrett would have to stuff the slices down on top of his torturously large sandwich and sides.

After a month of silent warfare, both Barrett and Peter had packed on weight.  Barrett was undeniably impressed with Peter’s bloat capacity and how much the littler guy could stomach in one stretching session.  Peter, who loved the fact that his packed pizzas were adding to both Barrett’s bottom and front lines, immensely enjoyed the big stud’s trips in to the kitchen to moan about his overloaded gut. Barrett was supposed to sweep around the kitchen after his lunch demonstration, and he’d invariably be as close as possible to Peter so that he could bump him with his solid gutsphere.  Barrett would belch in Peter’s general direction to egg him on, and soon Peter would march on up to the 6’2” beefster and playfully threaten to punch his big ol’ gut.  Barrett would push his belly out even more and tell Peter to give it his best shot.  The manager would always intercede in time saying “Don’t pop him! Barrett has to work tomorrow!”

Time bulged on, and the manager had to bring in a scale due to rising concerns about their Frontline Eater position, of which Barrett had done such an incredible job filling.  “Boy, are you ever fat now,” the manager told Barrett as he processed the number on the scale’s display, “three hundred and twenty pounds. I’m afraid that we’re going to move you to back of house for awhile-- put the big beefer out to pasture, so to speak.  Your gluttonous performances are still bringing in the fat guys, but the average group of ladies who lunch seem to think you’ve gotten too fat for them to fantasize about over their porky husbands.”

“Aw, come on!” Barrett spurted out, “I know women still look at me.”

“Well, yeah.  They look at you and think about the big fat growling gut they’re going to have to go home and feed that night.  All the work they’ll go through stuffing their husband’s belly enough so he’ll fall asleep on the couch and not bother them for the rest of the night.”

A vision of his fat daddy friend Josh popped into Barrett’s mind.  “Some women enjoy feeding their hubbies-- in fact, they relish the thought of fattening them up.”  Barrett’s crotch tingled a bit as he remembered Josh’s most recent Chunk’s visit when he owned up to weighing 350 pounds and whispering the most arousing admission in his ear.  Josh had dreamed one night that he’d been stretching his belly for weeks in the hopes of growing it immense enough to hold a stuffed Thanksgiving Barrett.

The manager’s mind was made up, so he put Barrett next to Peter in the kitchen so that they could work out any issues the two had while Barrett shed a few pounds.  The days went by with the two reminiscing about the old days and pretty much making a buffet of the prep tables.  It was on a Friday when Peter offered one particularly compelling memory.

“You remember that time at the school assembly when three of you guys on the football team had a pizza eating contest in front of the whole school?”  Peter asked.

“Oh yeah.  My gut ached the rest of the afternoon,” Barrett confessed.

“Oh damn... well, you won....and you ate the entire pizza,” Peter recalled.  “You had the biggest fucking belly that day...”

“I remember that.”  Barrett smiled, “after school, I was sprawled out on the grass in Senior Square warning guys not to step on my belly.”

“You were wearing this really tight orange pullover shirt and I thought your belly looked like a big pumpkin.”  As Peter shared his thoughts, Barrett chuckled and patted his much fatter, bigger belly.  “I had like ten dollars and I wanted to take you to McDonald’s and get you whatever you wanted.”

“You did? Huh...” Barrett thought for a moment.  “Guess that would have made you ‘Peter Peter Pumpkin Feeder’ in a way...” Barrett thought for another moment, “wait... that’s why you would makin’ my pizzas so big! You’ve been fattening me up on purpose!”

Peter slapped Barrett in his big ol’ belly.  “Well, truth be told, you were already amply fattened when I started here... nicely marbled beef... I just wanted you to get a little fatter.”  

“A little fatter? Well, I’m 320 pounds now.” Barrett stated, bumping his firm round gut into Peter’s fat belly.  “Feel the size of this beast now!”

“My guess is that this beast needs to be fed,” Peter said, grabbing on to each side of the studly gut being pushed into him.  “I’ve got ten dollars for McDonald’s after work...”

Somehow, Peter and Barrett kept their minds on finishing their shifts at Chunk’s, and agreed to meet at the nearest McDonald’s at six o’clock.  Peter decided to keep his work clothes on, despite the fact that he smelled like an overweight pizza.  Since he’d gone ahead and eaten his free work meal, his Dockers were exceptionally tight despite the fact that they were pushed down far below his fat belly.  Barrett had gone home and rifled through a few drawers to find that famous orange pullover shirt from high school, only to find that he nearly ripped it getting it over his much more developed chest and arms, and the old top was no match for his very ample belly.  The shirt couldn’t reach to cover his wide love handles and the hem created a crisp line around his big manly gut above his dreamily deep belly button.  He had one last pair of jeans that he put forth his best effort to button, and walked out of the house looking like a giant overstuffed sausage.

Barrett walked in to the McDonald’s and immediately felt eyes gluing to his bared belly; among other sets, one set of eyes belonged to Peter, and another set belonged to Josh-- Barrett’s fat daddy friend from Chunk’s.  Josh’s hefty wife turned her head to see who her chubby hubby was gawking at and seemed suitably impressed.  Peter stood up, shifted his boner, and walked over to meet the vision in orange that wobbled his way closer.  

“How about that-- that shirt fits differently than it did in high school, Barrett!”  

“Just a little bit. I’m a few pounds heavier now.”  

Both of them strolled up to the counter together, each enjoying the reaction of the chubby young counter dude whose mouth dropped open in response the audacity of Barrett’s attire.

“What do ya want? My treat.” Barrett offered, rubbing Peter’s shoulder.  

“Oh, it’s my treat, Barrett.”  

“Let’s do this-- I’ll get you what I want you to eat, and you can do the same for me.  How about that?”

Soon enough, the two Chunk’s employees had decided on a booth across from where Josh and his wife still sat eating.  Before taking a seat, Barrett and Peter said hello to the oversized married couple, carefully noting the pile of empty boxes and wrappers in front of Josh.  Even though it was one of the booths made larger to more easily accommodate fat people, Josh was obviously stuck.  The table’s edge butted firmly against his enormous round belly, and the portion above table level bulged onto the surface an inch.  Josh’s ribs were shoved up and back around the bloated stomach, and it was as hard for him to speak as it was to breathe.

“Josh, I do believe that you’ve been fed into place!” Barrett said.

“Indeed he has,” came the voice from across the table. “We’re stretching his belly all day today-- kids are at their grandparents.  There’s a young pup at Recipe Club that’s about to get his 360 pound ribbon and Josh has got to keep up! You must be Barrel-- I mean, Barrett,” she said, looking at the tall stud’s ample belly.  

Barrett chuckled. “Yes, that’s me, Barrett. And I guess I do resemble a food barrel these days.”  He shook her hand and introduced Peter.  “Well, well, Josh.  Just look at this huge belly wedged in this booth...”   Barrett gently poked around on the top of Josh’s overstuffed belly.

“Careful, now... don’t poke too hard.  You’ll pop the pig! He’s been eating all day to stretch his belly for an upcoming Vegas trip.  I mean, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that 24 hour buffet pass and wants to go for a three day gorging weekend.”

“Haven’t been able to get enough to eat today, boys,” Josh wheezed.  

“That can definitely be a problem,” Peter observed with an unmistakably evil smile on his face.

Barrett thumped Josh’s enormous gut and said, “keep on stuffing, Josh-- Thanksgiving is comin’ and you’re either going to eat or be eaten!”  Reaching over to his serving tray, Barrett grabbed a Quarter Pounder box and sat it on top of Josh’s solid ball of food.

Two McDonald’s employees, including the chubby guy poured into his uniform, brought two trays each over to where Barrett and Peter had chosen to plant their numbered sign.  Without much more conversation, the two guys got down to business and began stuffing themselves.  Josh sat and belched while he digested, watching with great interest as Barrett and Peter blew up in size.  Their enthusiasm for gorging was amazing to watch.  It was no surprise that they finished all of that food and four soda refills only to look at each other and say “More!”

Josh’s wife took his wallet up to the counter and surprised Barrett and Peter with another round of Big Macs, Quarter Pounders, fries, and Chicken McNuggets.  Peter’s incredible ability to bloat up into a round ball raised eyebrows near and far in the restaurant.  His Chunk’s uniform shirt’s hem inched up the stuffed belly ball, and his Dockers launched into space as he heaved a satisfied sigh.

“Your belly is gettin’ big,” Barrett said to his rotund dinner mate.

“Well, look who’s talking,” plump-bellied Peter turned around on the overstuffed stud.  “It’s like someone connected that pumpkin to a tire pump!”

Barrett’s orange pullover had slid up above his packed-taut bloatsphere, exposing the full height of his treasure trail.  Barrett’s belly button, with its fat rounded entry, begged for a chubby finger to explore its warm depths.

“I say we go pick up a box of donuts and go to my place, Peter.”  

The two roundbellied twentysomethings thanked fat daddy Josh and his wife for their generosity and waddled their way out to their trucks.  “Hope you get full enough, Josh!”

“Never!”

Peter picked out the fat pills at the best grocery store bakery in town, making sure to choose an enticing array of all kinds, including extra-filling-fattening cream-filled ones, before speeding on over to Barrett’s address.

“C’mon in if you have donuts...” Barrett teased as he stood there in his ridiculously undersized orange pullover and underwear with a spot of wet pre-cum at the end of his fully lengthened cock.

Peter broke into a sweat from the heat radiating off of the engorged stud, shaking a little as he set two boxes of donuts on the dining room table.  Barrett slapped Peter’s butt that was as yet encased in the seam-stressed Dockers, “damn your ass got fat after high school.”

“I like to eat,” Peter told him turning his head sideways.  

“I can tell.  The pregnant belly was another dead giveaway.” Barrett pulled Peter’s pants down and bent him over the dining room table.  Peter’s stout full belly smacked on the surface like a gargantuan slab of bacon and Barrett watched his sides bow out under the pressure.  Barrett shifted his loaded cock into the upright position and rubbed it back and forth between Peter’s plump buns.  “Fuck that feels good....my gut’s so fucking big that I can’t see what I’m doing, but I can definitely feel the heat from your hole...”

“Jesus, your dick is as big as I always thought it was...” Peter grunted.

“You got me so hot that I’m brimming with cum today... if I pumped your ass right now, I’d shoot a load so fat that your belly would explode.”

“Do it, fat stuff,” Peter begged, “because after you pop my cherry in grand style, I’m gonna feed you every last donut in that box.  You stuff my butt and I’ll bust your gut.”

Nearly breaking the table in the process, Barrett finished the deed, pumping Peter completely full of his seed.

Taking Barrett by the hand and grabbing the box of donuts, Peter led his round target into the bedroom.  Getting situated leaned against the headboard and spreading his legs far apart, Peter motioned for the ballooned stud to lay belly-up on him with his head on his shoulder.  Once Barrett was in place, there was not going to be any moving him for an extended period of time.  Peter’s view around Garrett’s head was of a tall round mountain that wobbled from side to side when the bed shook.  “Will you just look at the size of this fucking tank?!” Peter put his hands on either side of Barrett’s enormously swollen stomach and spread his fingers.  Gently shaking the massive sphere of manflesh, Peter breathed heavily in Barrett’s ear as the heavy stud continued to weigh down on his own achingly full stomach.  “Soldier, you’ve really let yourself go...your punishment is going to be severe... forcefeeding until your greedy belly bursts like an overblown balloon.”

Peter picked through the donuts and began stuffing them into Barrett’s eager maw in rapid succession.  As icing began to collect in the overfed boy’s beard, his tongue worked overtime to get every last bit.  As Barrett was chewing nearly unmanageable mouthfuls, Peter rubbed all over the swelling stomach.  With a whole box of donuts down the gullet, there was a giant mound formed that pushed straight up in the air.  Peter thumped on the top of the donut dome, amazed at how dense it sounded and the volume of belch it quickly produced. Barrett’s advanced gut was easily the size of a beach ball, and Peter was wishing that he had a view far enough away to fully appreciate its fullness.

“Oh God, I’m gonna pop,” Barrett moaned.  

Peter pushed his index finger into the top of Barrett’s solid donut dome and tested it for doneness.  “Nope, you’re not ready yet,” Peter whispered in his 320+ pound stud’s ear and opened the second box.

Engaged in relentless stuffing, Barrett’s gutsphere stretched wider and taller.  Peter spread his fingers as far apart as possible to rub as much belly at once as he could. Barrett’s panic was becoming more evident as his taut, shiny ball maxed out with half of the second box of donuts crammed inside.
 “Okay, Soldier, I’ll spare your gut from certain explosion,” Peter announced.  Barrett responded with an wall-shaking belch.  Squashed a little under the weight of the overfed stud, Peter wriggled his way out and stood at the side of the bed admiring the gigantic beach ball.  The bottom of his enormous gut was as taut as the top, and the roundness bumped against his spread meaty thighs.

Peter slowly made his way on to the bed, throwing his leg over Barrett’s wide body and bouncing his fat butt briefly on the tall mountain of belly. Realizing that he was about to push several donuts right out of Barrett’s mouth, Peter quickly slid down off of the ball gut and landed on his hard-again cock.  Peter was reminded of how full his own belly was as it met fatly against the bottom third of Barrett’s gutsphere.  Peter regained his strength, grabbed a hold of each of Barrett’s meaty pecs and humped his cock against the giant hard belly.  Getting ready to shoot his load, Peter grabbed another donut, plugged Barrett’s furry feedhole with it, and ate up the sight of Barrett’s hungry expression as he spurted cum all over Barrett’s lower bellysphere.

“Feels good to get caught up on lost time, huh?”

[closedspeciesdrama]

from the horses mouth

Hi I was made aware my name was brought into some drama so im here to lay down my side I am jesterkimi on da. I responded to a mass not Happysorry sent out. I was also banned for that reason even though it took nearly a month and half for them to say i was banned with no warning nor did i break any of happy's cs rules to be banned from the group. I spoke out because i was angry and have been there for every happy disagreement that ever was..including being a mediator between happy/hippiefoxx when everyone was coming to terms to a peaceful agreement http://imgur.com/a/sBHEt this was my note as provided by a anon on here I have seen three or four things on here that make me head scratch....  1. Pkingsora has become friends with everyone who had beef with happysorry? Yes sora and myself have made friends with several of happysorry's beefers. but why wouldn't they? The people that happy had beef with were incredibly nice and supportive when sora needed it. They shared a common experience and enjoy many of the same things... so i am sorry that being friend with people  who dislike the same people seems sketchy? that seems like a silly reason to think someone is a bad person. 2. pkingsora joins new cs groups/species ....wow... sora likes cs? why is this a bad thing? being part of many communities helps you net work as an artist and helps you grow. drawing lots of species and learning how they work helps makes you adaptable, honestly if i had the time id be joining all of the free myo events i could. Likeing and joining new species is not a way to manipulate others,,,,wtf 3. to the person who block pkingsora because they only commented on your taum related works.. have you considered that was something that you both had a shared interest in? Sora doesnt post on taum artwork to manipulate people. Sora posts on taum artwork because they love taums still despite happysorry banning them. I know from my experience that i have well over 1000 people i watch and i only comment on things that interest me. that was a silly reason  to block someone when they actually did nothing to you except express interest in something you both share a common interest in 4. rubbing up to a lot of top species owners? who cares? sora is a highly requested artist in general why is it a big deal if they become friends with other species owners when everyone runs in the same circle?  If  you have the opportunity to net work and become artist/guest artist for species and you have the talent/time to do so. why wouldnt you? I have yet to see a legitimate complaint about pkingsora on here all i have heard is people say... they make to many species, they try to befriend to many people, how dare they comment on my art....  not one single comment about them being mean or manipulative or any kind of proof of any real scenario. no real offense or anything but going on here and posting about people with no real proof is kinda crappy  and kind of  a cheap way to slander others. peace jesterkimi