#obsessed with the delivery of the last line
Note
Hi hi! Hope you don't mind that I have another request eheh... 🥲 I'd like to request smut with some build up before it, if you don't mind of course ^^; I've just been recently obsessed over those tropes of s/o(s) being apart for too long. And then thought of a reader who happens to be an intelligence officer working for KorTac. She and König aren't together yet per sé, more like have fallen for each other but never got to voice it out. Now, reader is chosen to carry out espionage against their enemy. However, it lasts for a year or two. Which is risky af. Anyway, those feelings they had for each other never left and they only grew within time. Plus they really miss each other hjshjs- And then when she finally comes back, cue the reunion. Cue the confession. Andddd cue whatever happens after that. Sorry if my request is more lengthier than before 😭 feel free to decline
So uh yes. That's basically it. Stay safe and take care of yourself 🫶 just gonna drop this gigantic special delivery package to this wonderful writer over here (you ofc) of... Oo what's this— BOOM. LOVE ✨💓💞💕💖✨
OMG this is such a sweet idea🥹 Never feel bad sending in a request! I love reading them and I love the challenge of bringing your idea to life! Thank you for all of the love you send my way, it is very appreciated and it makes my day to see your messages and comments! I hope you have a fantastic day and enjoy the story!
Reunion (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral
2.3k word count
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You stand in your room packing your suitcase as König sat at your desk chair. His eyes slowly going up and down your body, taking in how beautiful you look doing something so mundane. His mind flushed with thoughts of you, your mission, and his feelings. He has so much to say, but now isn’t the right time.
“Are you nervous Maus?” König bounces his foot nervously.
“I- no.” You lie. “It will be easy.”
“You’re definitely the best person for the job.”
You turn and smile at him. You want to say how much you’re going to miss him while you’re away. You’re aware that this mission will be long, maybe a year. It hurts your heart to think he might meet someone new while you’re away. What if you come back and he has a whole new life? A lot can change in that amount of time. Your heart sinks, but you continue to fake a smile for him.
You turn and face him. König looks up to meet your gaze, his pale blue eyes look sad behind his mask. The mask hiding the frown on his lips. He stands and walks to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.
“I’m going to miss you Maus,” he whispers as he rests his head on top of yours.
“I’ll miss you too.” You wrap your arms around him and hug him back. “Don’t forget about me.” You say with a giggle in your voice to hide the pain in that statement.
Your giggle doesn’t work because König notices. His arms tightening around you, “I could never forget you, y/n.”
König has the overwhelming want to lean down and kiss your soft lips, but he can’t. You two are just friends. Military code forcing him to shove his feelings for you aside to not cause any issues. Yet, underneath his uniform, he is just a man in love; desperate for a chance to touch you in a more intimate way and express his love for you. He settles for friendly hugs and breathing in your scent instead.
He pulls away from the hug and looks down at you. Your beautiful eyes looking back at him. His heart pounds in his chest, he is already starting to miss you and it hurts.
“I’ll carry your bag to the garage for you.” He says closing your suitcase and picking it up.
“Thank you, Kö.”
The last time you two see each other you spend 20 minutes hugging, breathing each other in. Words hanging on the tips of both your tongues, yet no one brave enough to cross that line. Both of your hearts break as you know this could be your last time together. All you can do is hope that life brings you both back together.
The mission went on longer than expected. Two years and seven months, König has been counting the days; marking off the calendar waiting for the day you finally return. The only sign that you’re alive is the intel that KorTac occasionally gets from you, but it’s been three months since the last message. He is use to a life of solitude, but without you he feels a new level of loneliness.
He walks past your room every day before returning to his own. Your room remains vacant, everything left exactly how you left it. Every night he looks at a photo of you he has tucked under his pillow, gently kissing it hoping you’ll return to him soon.
It was another day of mundane tasks and paper work for König. He sat at his desk with your file pulled up on his screen, your photo attached. He marks off another day from the calendar, another day without you. Not even intel from you.
Around 12pm, König sits with his mask off, eating his lunch he packed for himself. He wonders where you are and if you’re safe. What if you’ve been captured and murdered or worse, fallen in love and decided to run off with the enemy. Being alone with his own thoughts is torture.
Just then there is a knock at his door. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. He was in the middle of eating. Putting his sandwich down, he picks up a napkin and cleans his mouth before pulling his mask down over his face. Again, a knock.
“Alright, come in.” König says as he straightens himself out. He minimizes your file that he has still pulled up on the computer screen.
The door opens and closes, he looks up to see…you.
König’s jaw drops and he just sits there staring at you for a while, as if he can’t believe that you’re real and standing in front of him. You look just as beautiful as you did the day you left. Nothing has changed other than your hair being longer now, and it suits you.
You stand there quietly waiting for him to say something, do something. He just sits there looking at you in complete shock.
“Hey Kö,” you break the silence as you take a few steps closer.
Hearing the nickname, Kö, makes his heart flutter; only you and his mother have ever called him that. You’re really here. He isn’t hallucinating. It’s you. Quickly he stands to his feet and walks towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. He takes a deep breath, breathing you in. He’s missed your scent so much these last few years, he had forgotten what you even smelled like. Forgotten just how perfect your warmth feels against his body.
Your arms quickly wrap around him, you’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long. Being away from König was harder than you thought it would be. Especially for almost three years, you weren’t sure if you’d be returning to the same man. Yet here he was. Your König. He waited for you.
König pulls away from the hug and moves his hands to grasp you face and turn your face so you can look into his eyes. His eyes glossy, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t speak as he just looks at your face, taking in your beauty. He hasn’t seen you in the flesh for so long, it’s like he is seeing you again for the first time. His beautiful love.
Without thinking, König pulls his mask off; revealing his face to you for the first time ever. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours; slowly out of fear of rejection, yet once your lips touch, you don’t pull back or turn away. You kiss back with even more passion, making König melt inside. He grips your face a little tighter as he begins to kiss you harder, matching your passion.
Breaking away, he rests his head on yours, tears now falling down both of your faces.
“I was scared I would never see you again.” His voice breaks as he speaks to you.
“I know,” your breathing shutters.
He pulls away slightly as you look up at his face. You take in all of his features that have been hidden all these years of friendship. He’s…beautiful. You’ve thought of what he might be hiding all this time, it’s just scars. They only add to how attractive you see him.
“Kö, I’m in love with you.” The words flow out of your mouth as if it’s word vomit.
Your heart begins to pick up and you swallow hard, waiting for his response. Your hand reaching out to wipe tears away from his eyes as they fall.
“I’m in love with you too, y/n. I always have been.” His voice cracks.
He leans down and his lips meet yours again, his tongue licking your lips as they part to accept him. He lets out a soft moan as he tastes you for the first time. He’s wanted this for a long time, since the day you stayed behind with him after a failed mission. That was the day he fell in love with you.
His hands drop down to your waist as he begins to push up the hem of your shirt, his warm hands caressing your soft skin. You don’t stop him; your body has always craved him. You’re his now, in this moment, and forever. Slowly pulling away from your lips, his eyes drop down your body.
“Is this okay?” He seeks you consent before continuing. His hands continue to caress your waist, moving up slowly.
You nod your head, closing your eyes as his lips come back to meet yours. You continue to make out as his hands move up your body. He begins to pull you shirt up, breaking the kiss to take your shirt fully off. He looks down at your breasts cupped in your bra. He brings you closer to him as he can wrap his arms around you and unhook your bra. You let the bra drop from your body.
König quickly drops to his knees, his lips finding your breasts and kissing all over, his lips grazing over your nipples giving you chills. His hands fumble with the button of your pants as he undoes it. Pulling down your zipper, he looks up at you. His hands wrap around the top of your pants and pull them down with your underwear.
His eyes look at the soft bush between your legs before he kisses your stomach and hips. You lean back against the wall and he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. Slowly he kisses down your thigh that’s resting on him. He finally begins to kiss the soft hair covering your sacred area. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent completely. He has always wanted to be graced with the privilege of giving you pleasure, and here he is finally.
He sticks his tongue out and licks from the bottom to the top, his tongue making small circles over your clit. He can’t believe just how sweet you taste. The small moans leaving your lips mixed with the smell of your arousal making his cock rock hard in his cargos. He begins to suck lightly on your clit, flicking his tongue over it as he does. Your legs begin to tremble and jerk.
You look down at him as he eats you out, your fingers gently combing through his blonde hair. You could have never imagined that he would be this good as he begins to focus in on your clit. Legs shaking you moan out, calling his name. You feel a rush, a build up of pleasure.
Knowing that you’re about to cum, König keeps his rhythm. You push his face into your cunt, forcing him to only breathe in your sweet natural musk. His face covered in your arousal; he can’t take it anymore.
He moves your leg off of him gently as he stands up. He begins to quickly undo his belt and take his pants off. He pulls his shirt off, revealing his Greek god like body to you. You just look at him, in awe. The same way he looks at you.
You both stand there looking at each other’s bare bodies. König just can’t get enough of you. He walks closer to you and scoops you up in his arms. He walks to his desk chair with you. He sits slouched in the chair as you sit on his lap, your wet pussy rubbing against his erection. You lean in and kiss his lips as he moans softly feeling a tease of what your warmth will be like.
With no regard for safe sex, you lean forward, reaching down and grabbing his cock to guide it into your pussy. Once the tip squeezes in you both let out a harmonious moan. Your eyes studying his face as he is focused on watching you stretch around his cock.
Your hands on his shoulders for balance, you continue to sit down until König bottoms out inside of you. His hands squeezing the supple flesh of your thighs as he submits to you and lets you take control of your shared pleasure. Your tight cunt squeezing around him, breasts bouncing in his face as you move over him. His muscles flex as he assists you in your movements.
“Oh Scheiße, Maus. You feel so fucking good.” He moans out as his head falls back against the back of the chair; eyes closed. He has never felt this level of pleasure before with another partner. The sound of your wet cunt filling the space between your shared moans and panting.
“Kö,” you whimper out as your hands move to his chest, fingers digging deeply into his skin.
König opens his eyes and looks down at your cunt eagerly trying to milk him. A creamy white ring circling the base of his cock, and he can smell the sex in the air. He can’t hold on anymore. He wraps his arms around your abdomen and holds you close to him while he begins to quickly thrust up into you, his balls slapping against your ass. You begin to moan out loudly, definitely loud enough to be heard from the hallway, but he couldn’t care less.
“I-I’m going to- ah,” König couldn’t even speak as he begins to sweat from his rapid movements. His hands grasping your ass as he begins to roughly push you down on his cock. You can feel him throbbing deep inside of you as he cums. His cheeks turning slightly red from embracement of not lasting longer.
Your lips meet his with desperation as you both kiss. His hands still gripping you tightly as you rest on him, as if you might leave again if he lets go. Breaking the kiss you both look into each other’s eyes. One of his hands leaving your body and moving up to caress your face gently.
“Are you mine?” König sounding so submissive and gentle, a side no one ever sees of him.
“Of course.”
#konig#konig x y/n#konig cod#konig x reader#könig#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x reader smut#cod konig#könig call of duty#könig x reader smut#könig x y/n#könig x you#smut
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The Art of the Roast by Mikhailo A. Milkovich
#he's valid your honor#shameless#shamelessedit#shamelessnet#gallavich#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#damon#s7#7x11#*macygifs#obsessed with the delivery of the last line
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FARGO
5.03 The Paradox of Intermediate Transactions
#tvedit#fargoedit#fargo#fx fargo#ole munch#sam spruell#made by carolyn#i live for this shit#obsessed with that woman.#fun fact - it cuts to the flashback after he says i live here now#and then the flashback ends and it cuts back to the i live here now line again#but they used different takes for the before and after! so it's a slightly different delivery#which is so cool#i giffed the second take because i wanted to include him looking away again as the last gif
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bc screenshots can’t do this scene justice </3
#he literally interrogates her EXACTLY like a cop in copaganda harrassing a witness i'm obsessed w the last line's delivery#CHILLS#f: at a distance spring is green#aadsig#park ji hoon#park jihoon#kang minah#kang min ah#videos
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Devotion 🖤
II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 7)
CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader
Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?
Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.
*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*
⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: references to previous SAs (not described in detail), manipulation, thoughts of self-harm and suicide.⚠️
PREVIOUS
II. Predator or Prey?
CH 7 (7.8k) | 10 Weeks Later |
It’s the last Thursday in March and you’re helping pack up the wagon for Hank and his daughter, Amber, to make one of their weekly trips into town. The milk churns are loaded in the back, filled and ready for delivery to the Valley residents in town. You double check the breast collars on the horses and the traces going to the wagon while Hank asks if you’re sure you don’t wanna come with? He asks every week and every week your answer is the same.
“No thank you, Hank, there’s plenty to do here.”
While that’s certainly true, it’s not the real reason you never join them. There’s plenty to keep you busy and never a shortage of chores on a dairy farm, especially one that has almost no electrical power to help run it. But the more honest reason you don’t join them in town is that it would complicate your ability to avoid Joel. Part of you felt a finality when you got here, that whatever it was between you was over and you’d start fresh and finally be rid of him. But you should have known better. You should have known he’d still haunt you.
Your mind has still been full of him, filled with memories of the good times and the bad. You think you see him out of the corner of your eye, in places he shouldn’t be, but when you turn to look, of course he isn't there. Sometimes you think you can smell him when you walk into your room at night, but he’s definitely never been in there. You can usually avoid actively seeing him, since Hank doesn’t like to attend the Friday night events and Joel would never come this far out of town with as busy as he’s kept by Tess. But you can’t avoid him on Sundays.
Hank never presses the issue when he asks you to join him on Thursday nights, but joining them on Sundays isn’t optional. As a devout man, Hank requires everyone to dress in their best clothes and make the hour-long ride into town so you can all sit in the big, old church and hear about God’s plan for you. Every Sunday you see Joel in the front row, sitting through the service before he gets up and makes his usual speech. You scoot down in the pew, making yourself as small as possible, trying not to draw attention. He gives you none.
Once the service is over, everyone funnels out of the church to the rec hall next door. You walk past the closet where you were on your knees for your false god and try not to burn at the shameful feeling that washes over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself. Sometimes Tess comes over to your table at dinner and talks to the Mansfields, making sure to ask how you’re doing and gives you kind smiles. But Joel never comes over. He sits at his table with the other women – and Beth – and keeps his back turned to you.
You once thought that it seemed like he was putting extra effort into purposely not looking your way. You pushed the preposterous thought from your mind until you realized too late one Sunday that you were in a line to shake his hand before dinner. You were busy re-plaiting Amber’s braid at her insistence and didn’t notice how close you were to him until you heard his gruff voice speaking to Hank. It was too late for you to run the other way, which is what you usually did, so instead you ducked down, trying to hide behind Amber, knowing it was futile.
Amber beamed at him, shaking his hand with both of hers, bubbling with praise over how great his speech was and what a great job he did. Her little crush on him had never been more annoying than it was at that moment. You knew that he knew you were there, there was no way to hide your entire body behind Amber’s diminutive frame. And yet, you watched his eyes jump over you and land on the next person in line, completely – and purposely – ignoring your presence. He was definitely making an effort.
–
All of that happened nearly two months ago and now you just make absolutely sure to pay attention and stay away from him on Sundays, so you don’t have to notice him not noticing you. In fact, these days you hardly think of him at all. Okay, maybe that’s not quite true, but you’d like to think that in comparison to when you first got to the Mansfield’s, you’re doing much better.
The first night you’d arrived, Amber had led you up the stairs to her room, which she said you’d be sharing. The room was huge, probably three times bigger than the room you had been calling yours. You had a comfortable bed all to yourself on one side of the room as well as three dresser drawers and half the closet to fill with your things. You hadn’t brought anywhere near enough clothes to go in the spaces, but you found that Beth had unexpectedly left several items of clothing behind in a size that fit you.
When the lanterns were snuffed out for the night you’d laid your head on the pillow and cried heaving, muffled sobs, hoping Amber wouldn’t hear you. Why were you crying? You had more space and more autonomy at that moment than you’d had in months. You had a bedroom door that closed and a family that was eager to have you. No one was going to hit you, touch you, or scream at you. You were safe. And yet you felt so alone. More alone than you had in a very long time.
You’d let yourself cry until your head ached, and then you got up and walked to the bathroom, splashing some cold water on your warm, puffy face. You looked in the mirror and began to chide your pitiful reflection.
Why are you crying over him? Why would you miss him? What is wrong with you?
These same thoughts repeated for the first week, playing over and over in your mind every time you started to feel sad. So stupid of you to cry as if you were the only one in the world with problems. The whole world had gone to hell and you were crying because some man lied to you. You shouldn’t have even fucking trusted him in the first place. You’d let yourself fall right into his trap even though everything inside you was telling you not to.
–
You wonder if he misses you or if he’s already moved on to the next one. Maybe Beth has fully replaced you and his focus is on her now, already suffocating her with affection and fucking her in your old bed. Had he asked Tess about you, or Hank, or anyone? You have thoughts about getting sick or even dying, and wonder what he would say when he heard, if he would feel bad, if he would shed a tear. He most likely wouldn’t care at all, his fixation with you having run its course. You were yesterday’s news.
You think about hurting yourself and if he’d do anything about that. Maybe he’d come out to the farm and visit you; sit by your bedside and read to you. Maybe he’d throw you over his knee and spank you for it. You wonder if you should leave The Valley, and you’re not sure which would hurt more; him coming after you or him letting you go. Maybe you should kill yourself. He’s not around to stop you. No one is.
Goddamnit, you are so fucking dramatic. None of this shit matters, anyway – your life was always a burning pile of trash and it was always going to be a burning pile of trash. A couple-months-blip of whatever pseudo-relationship you had with this man was not the pinnacle of your life. He wasn’t sent by some higher power to save you. You weren’t two halves of a whole, ripped apart at the beginning of creation, roaming the ends of the earth to find each other again. Get a fucking grip.
Oh, you were used by a man for your body? What else is new? That’s not breaking fucking news, that’s just what men do. That’s what men do to you. That is what your life has always been and clearly you’re some kind of magnet for this behavior. There is obviously something about you that all these men see and it calls out to them that you’ll fall for their bullshit every time and they can take whatever they want from you. You’re doing something wrong, leading them on somehow. You deserve this. You were asking for it.
At the end of the first week you’d told yourself you weren’t gonna go on with these spiraling, obsessive, pathetic thoughts about him anymore. You were exhausted at feeling this way and were sure everyone around you was getting tired of it too, of you moping around the farm like Eeyore, sniveling and crying. You were distracted all the time, head in the clouds. Months worth of hopes and dreams played over and over in your mind, each recalled moment had hit you like a fucking shotgun blast to the stomach.
Giggling in the hallway while he kissed your neck and tickled your skin with his stubble. Pow.
The phantom feeling of his fingertips tracing circles on your skin while he reads to you. Pow.
The heat of his body behind you, sniffing your hair, whispering, “Good morning, baby.” Pow.
His tongue sliding along your bottom lip, licking into your mouth, tasting you. Pow.
How stupid were you to think that’s what your life was going to be like? As if it could ever be like that. Your life isn’t a fucking movie, it’s not a love song, it’s not some sappy romance novel. You’re not the main character, you’re not the heroine. You don't get a happy ending. You get to be used. You get to be left. You get to be alone. You get to be hungry. You get to feel empty.
That’s what you had before, why would it be any different now, here – at the end of the world? Why would you deserve anything different?
–
You need to stop your hyper-fixating thoughts, you feel like you’re going crazy out here, haunted by him. There’s no one you can talk to or confide in, no one you trust. You have to find a way to get this out of your system. You need to figure out how to move on. You decide you’re going to let yourself have each memory one time, and then you’re gonna pack it up and send it away, so it can’t hurt you anymore.
You find an old stack of newspapers in the loft of the barn and begin ripping off small sections. Each time you have one of these spiraling thoughts of him – losing yourself in a memory – you walk to the edge of the property and stand next to the creek that runs through there. You let yourself have the thought, from start to finish, and before you can repeat it or turn it over in your head to overthink it, you crumple the scrap of paper in your hand – crunching it down into a tiny little ball – and throw it into the creek. Once it’s out of sight you don’t let yourself dwell on it anymore.
The conversation you had one evening, limbs entwined, between making out like teenagers on the chilly front porch, saying that if he’d met you before the world ended he’d have taken you out on a date.
“Where would you take me?”
“Out for ice cream, to a baseball game, maybe a drive-in movie.”
“What movie?”
“Any movie you wanted to see, baby.”
“What else?”
“I’d bring you flowers, hold your hand, kiss you goodnight.”
“Would you call me after?”
“Of course I would, you’d be my girl.”
His girl. His. His possession. Maybe that’s all he ever wanted; to own you like you were just another one of his little things on a shelf.
Into the river.
Right around Thanksgiving, he’d told you more about Sarah, his daughter. He’d told you she loved the color purple, drawing butterflies, playing soccer with her friends, and giving her old man shit. You’d thought the shine in his eyes when he talked about her was one of the best things about him.
“Single dad?”
“Yup.”
“Ever married?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Just never appealed to me.”
You didn’t read into it at the time but you wonder now if you shouldn’t have seen the signs, if it wasn’t obvious and you were just being willfully ignorant. Oh well.
Into the river.
You told him about going with a friend and her stepdad to their lake house for an overnight when you were little. You and your friend had spent all day playing in the water and when it was time for bed she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow. The loud, squealing of the air conditioning kicking on and off kept you awake and you reluctantly got up to ask the only adult to make it stop. He suggested you sleep in his bed instead, lifting the covers for you to join him. Against your better instincts, you crawled in.
“How old were you?” he asked with gritted teeth.
“Maybe eight.”
He cursed under his breath. “Wasn’t right.”
“I know.”
“Wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that too.”
“He shouldn’t ha–”
“I know, Joel.”
“You tell anyone? Your mom, your dad?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know… I guess it felt like something you’re supposed to keep secret.”
“Did he ever–?”
“No. I never saw him again. And I never hung out with that girl again.”
What’s worse? The memory of it, the shame of recalling it in front of him, or the way he pitied you, holding you tighter in his arms that night than he ever had before?
Into the river.
This was your routine, sometimes once or twice a day, sometimes more. One particularly hard day early on you made nearly a dozen trips to the river. Amber asked if you were okay. You lied and told her you were fine. You had to let him go, each thought you released cleansing you of him, letting the water wash away your pain. This went on for weeks and weeks and you’re not sure if you’re actually getting better but you are feeling a little better and maybe that’s all you can hope for.
–
Amber used to ask you a million questions a day about him. What was Joel like? Was he nice? What was his house like? What did you do there? Was it fun? You didn’t have the heart to tell her that he was both your ultimate dream and your worst nightmare, that his house was a trap that he held you in while he manipulated and hurt you, and that he was a monster hiding in plain sight in this community he created just for that purpose. Instead of divulging that heinous truth, you suffice to tell her that Joel is kind, the house is nice, and living there was fine.
It was obvious that she had a little thing for him, but if you’re being honest she probably got it from her mother, who talked about Joel with the same dreamy lilt to her voice as Amber. Hank also seemed to get misty-eyed when he talked about what great things Joel has done for the people in this valley. A wolf emerges in the apocalypse, disguising himself as a shepherd, and the sheep all flock to him. You remind yourself not to judge them too harshly since you too were once one of the sheep.
You’d been living with the Mansfields for about a month when Amber started to make comments about Beth coming back to the house. Your stomach lept into your throat, thinking that it meant you’d have to go back to your tiny, doorless room at Joel’s house. But the more she spoke the more you realized she was acting like she would be the one going to live at Joel’s. You realized that you saw them last Sunday, hunched in a corner, talking to each other. You’d just assumed she had trapped him into talking to her, knowing how captivated she was with everything that came out of his mouth.
But now you wonder if they haven’t been growing closer, getting to know each other at the Thursday meetings she insisted on going to when you turned down Hank’s offer to accompany him as Beth had. Maybe he likes how infatuated she is with him, it certainly seems like that’s something he’d be into – being worshiped. Maybe he’s already offered her the little room at the top of the stairs. She can mend holes in clothes and cook much better than you ever could, maybe she’d suck his dick better than you too. You hate the way your insides churn even more at that thought.
He’s moved on, forgotten about you. He’s onto the next one. He doesn’t even look at you anymore.
Hank had his wife, Laurel, give you chores early on, doing some of the work that Beth used to do around the house. However, she quickly realized what Tess had already figured out, that you weren’t any good at that kind of stuff. Within a week you had exhausted her patience and she sent you out to the barn for Hank to find work for you.
You’re pretty sure Hank liked you, you’d always had nice conversations with him on Thursdays, relating to him that your grandparents had a farm and you’d grown up visiting it. You’d left out the part where the farm was no longer operational when you visited it and maybe Hank had been happy to have you and Beth switch rooms when he thought he was getting some kind of experienced farm worker. So Hank gave you plenty of work, as there was always a ton to do, and then left you unsupervised most of the day while he tended to the silo levels, the pasture fences, the sanitizing of the milk churns, and countless other tasks.
Two ranch hands – Danny and Diego – live at the house with the family and spend every day, all day, working with Hank to operate the farm. They help milk the cows and goats, tend to sick animals, help with feedings, take care of cleaning of the freestalls, and also pretty much do every single job that Hank assigns to you.
You think they felt bad for you, with your puffy face and red eyes, dragging yourself around the barn during that dark before dawn at the end of that first week. Feeling dejected and out of sorts, missing the familiarity of your old home, being useless at basic homestead chores – they kept catching you crying in any corner you could find to yourself. They started doing your work back then, and even though that was over two months ago, you still barely lift a finger. Hank never seems to notice, all he cares is that the work is done.
You don’t talk much, you just keep to yourself and pet the animals. For a while you thought they must think you were stupid, but it turns out they just wanted to get on your good side. One day early on, they asked if you’d told Tess or Joel about them, and not knowing what the answer should be, you’d muttered not yet, and ran away. It wasn’t until you walked into the barn one snowy morning weeks later and found them standing too close to each other that it even dawned on you what part of them they were asking about.
You knew Hank wouldn’t approve if he saw them behaving that way, if he knew what it implied. Maybe he’d already seen them, and a threat had been made. Hank was a conservative man, old fashioned and strict. You thought maybe the phrase small-minded might also apply, but Hank was kind to all of you, so you tried not to judge him too harshly. You weren’t entirely sure why Danny and Diego were worried about Tess or Joel finding out about their relationship, but you were pretty sure they wouldn’t give a shit.
Joel was probably fucking half the women in town, why would he care if two guys down the valley were fucking each other? You kept that tidbit to yourself, along with the stories that Tess used to tell you about her gay brother, so that Danny and Diego would keep helping you – keep doing all your work. That was probably a little fucked up, to hold it over their heads in a way, but it also kept your boots from being covered in cow shit from mucking stalls all morning and your fingers from freezing off while milking cows all afternoon. It also meant you got to hang out with baby goats, which was sometimes the only happiness you had.
–
It’s the last Sunday in March and you’re sitting in the middle of the pew, wedged between Amber and Diego, as Joel gets up to address the congregation. Before you can do your usual sinking down in the seat to make yourself less visible, you see Bianca out of the corner of your eye. Bianca is here! You haven’t seen her since she moved out of the house before Thanksgiving.
You’re so focused on trying to look around the people’s heads in front of you to see her that you aren’t fully listening to the announcement Joel is making. Everyone around you begins to stand up and applaud and it makes it impossible to see Bianca, so you stand as well, confused now what everyone is clapping for. Slowly the applause dies down and everyone is sitting back down, but trying to get a glimpse of your friend, you remain standing a little too long.
And that’s when you see it. The baby. A very small baby. A newborn baby. Joel is holding it and smiling and as everyone sits down he hands it back to Bianca. You forget you’re supposed to be sitting down and don’t notice that everyone else around you is already seated. You’re still standing there, staring at this baby. Bianca has a baby? Wait, is that Joel’s fucking baby?
Amber is tugging on your shirt sleeve but it’s too late, Joel has turned back to the crowd, and for the first time in ten weeks, he looks right at you. You can’t fucking move, you can’t look away. The two of you stare at each other for far too long and you notice people starting to look back and forth between you, a low murmur spreading over the mass. Amber starts pulling frantically on your arm and Hank’s voice booms from the end of the row, ordering you to sit down. You hear Tess hissing Joel’s name from the front row.
A cheshire cat grin creeps across his face and he finally breaks eye contact with you, turning to address the congregation once more. You sit, plopping down heavily in your seat. You think Hank and his wife are whispering about you and Amber is telling you how embarrassing that was, but you can’t hear anything over the thumping of your own heart and the ringing in your ears. Bianca was fucking pregnant… the whole time? The whole time. Bile rises in your throat. Only then does it dawn on you that Tess moved her out when she started to show. That’s why she was getting bigger. Saliva begins to flood your mouth.
Joel fucked every woman in that house. Jesus fucking Christ, you were so blind. Your stomach lurches. He must fuck Tess too. No wonder Tess wanted you out of there – you were taking up too much of his time, too much of his focus. That’s probably why she sent Bianca away too, looking at her pregnant belly would have been a reminder that Joel was fucking all those other people. Tess must be jealous, right? You don’t blame her. You’d be jealous too. Fuck, you are jealous. Still. Even now, after all this time.
You jump up out of your seat and scrabble over laps, ignoring Hank’s protests you exit the pew and dart out of the sanctuary. Once in the foyer you run into the nearest bathroom and retch into the sink, unable to make it to the toilet. Once the contents of your stomach have been emptied out, you splash your face with water and rinse your mouth out.
–
You hide in the bathroom until the service ends, listening as people pass by the door, telling Amber you’re fine and you’ll meet the family in the rec hall when she comes in to check on you. You wait until you don’t hear any more conversation or shuffling feet in the foyer to finally exit the bathroom. The entire building is empty except for one other person who is waiting outside the bathroom when you come out.
Joel.
Your boots squeak on the floor as you stop quickly in your tracks with the full weight of his attention on you now. You forgot how heavy it feels, locked in his gaze – an invisible weight pushing down on your body and trapping you where you stand. You can’t run away, you can’t even manage to look away. How does he still have this fucking effect on you? He stands before you, seemingly just a man, but taking up the whole room, monumental and intimidating. But in this moment, caught up in the flood of emotions you feel, you forget that you’re supposed to be afraid of him. You forget because the strongest thing you feel right now is anger.
“Is that your baby?” you snarl.
He scoffs and waits a beat, letting you anticipate his response. “That’s none of your goddamn business,” he replies – in a church – one corner of his mouth turning up.
“Fuck you.”
He cocks an eyebrow and takes a single step towards you, a reminder that you should be afraid of him. You gasp and take two steps backwards, colliding with the wall behind you, your head hitting it with a thump that echoes in the empty hall. He’s searching your face now, eyes pausing on your mouth. You’re reminded that the closet where he had you on your knees is only a few feet away. Your heart starts to race and you take rapid breaths, feeling the adrenaline begin to course through your veins.
No. He’s not gonna intimidate you. He’s going to fucking answer you.
“Who’s baby was that?” you ask again, louder this time. He looks surprised you’re still speaking. “Is that your fucking baby?”
“What do you care?” he snaps.
“I– I don’t,” you stammer.
Another scoff. He’s fucking laughing at you. Another smug grin. This son of a bitch.
“Well now,” he shakes his head slowly, “That really doesn’t seem like the truth.” He takes measured steps forward, closing in on you.
“It is,” you manage to squeak out, swallowing around the lump in your throat with an audible gulp. This is the least fucking convincing thing you’ve ever said. “I don’t care. I just wanna know–”
Tsk, he hums, interrupting you. “Sounds like a lie to me,” he shakes his head more and takes another step, nearly toe to toe with you now.
You do everything in your power to keep your chin up, to keep your eyes locked on his and your teeth gritted. You hate him. You miss him. You hate yourself.
“You’d know,” you spit. “All you do is lie.” You’re half insulting him, half reminding yourself.
“At least I’m good at it, sweetheart.”
–
The ride back to the farm is quiet. Laurel asks if you’re feeling okay but otherwise no one mentions the scene you and Joel made during the service. Once you get back you head to your room with Amber, both of you changing into less formal clothes to do your afternoon chores. You dress slowly, letting her finish first and leave you alone in the room.
You pull the backpack Tess had given you the night you came here out of the back of the closet. When she had handed it to you behind the skating rink, it was already packed with your clothes and any little trinkets you’d had in your room. She’d packed you a couple books but you noticed she hadn’t included the one Joel had given you on Christmas, the one you never read, the one you never even took to your room, the one you tried not to think about every time you saw it sitting on the mantle.
You had told her you would give Beth your room and she pulled this bag out of a wagon, ready to send you on your way. She was ready for you to go even if you weren’t, and so you went. That night. Without so much as a goodbye. You take that bag now and hold it by your legs, walking down the stairs to the basement as casually as possible.
When you come up from the basement, you run out to the barn to pretend to do your afternoon chores. Danny and Diego do anything you were expected to do and you spend time petting some of your favorite goats and hanging out in the hayloft. When the sun begins to set you rip a large piece of newspaper off the stack and climb down, sneaking out of the barn, down the lane, and to the creek.
It’s time to let go of another memory. Maybe your last one? This is a big one. You’ve been holding onto it, trying your best not to think of it, willing yourself to pass over it the way Joel’s eyes would pass over you on Sundays. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ve been unwilling to let it go. Until now. Now it’s time.
You let yourself remember the night…
You’d already let him into your pants in the hallway after the meeting a few weeks prior, and you knew that fucking him was an eventuality. That week the meeting ended late and every other person shuffled out of the meeting hall before you had even finished putting the chairs away. Joel stood at the door, holding it open for the last farmer and his son, letting the cold, snowy air pour in as he said his goodbyes.
When he quietly closed the door, he turned to the open, empty room and looked you in the eyes. He reached over and flipped all the light switches, casting the room in sudden darkness. With no time for your eyes to adjust you were temporarily blind, hands immediately out at your front, searching, waiting for him to sneak up on you. Your nervous giggle is interrupted by the flick and hiss of a match and then he’s right there, only a couple feet in front of you, lighting a candle.
He leans over and sets it on the ground and then brings his match to a second candle. He repeats this process until there is a wide circle of what must be a dozen burning lights surrounding you both on the floor. He steps inside the circle, holds out his hand for yours, and you swear you can hear music when he pulls you in tight to his body and begins swaying back and forth with you.
This is new, being alone together like this. You’ve never been anywhere so quiet with him. At home it’s hardly ever quiet, and even when you do get time alone with him, it always seems to be interrupted. If you go home right now, he goes to his bedroom, you go to yours, and the night ends – but here, dancing in his arms amidst the flames, time slows down.
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me, Joel,” you’d teased.
“Oh?”
“I didn’t know you could dance,” you’d said, your head resting on his body.
He grazed his lips across your cheek, placing kisses as he moved them to your ear.
“Maybe this is what we’d do on our first date,” he’d whispered.
“Dinner and dancing?”
“Dancing and breakfast,” he corrects.
“Breakfast?”
“The next morning,” he smiles, and you do too, and then he kisses you.
That kiss held a million promises. It made you forget everything that happened before him. That was when you knew you were in love with him. The earth stood still and everything else faded away. The warm circle of light illuminated you both and made the rest of the room seem even darker. Nothing outside that circle mattered. You were the only two people on earth. You existed only for each other.
He must have known it, at that moment, he must have been able to tell. It was obvious, wasn’t it? Your body went limp in his arms and you let every last trace of doubt and fear leave your body, submitting to your desire for him. Submitting to his desire for you. All pretense of dancing was given up and your passionate kisses became deeper.
He held you tight and slowly began to remove your clothing, calling you baby and whispering adorations to you in the flickering glow of the candlelight. Holding your breasts in his massive hands, he dipped his head to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and circling it with his tongue. He sucked the bud past his teeth and lightly bit down, soothing it with the flat of his tongue while you dragged your nails across his scalp, mewling at his ministrations.
It wasn’t until he finally got you completely naked that you’d realized he was still fully dressed. You kept trying to touch the front of his pants like you’d done before but he wouldn’t let anything but your pleasure be the focus. He let you grind yourself on him, his hands grabbing your ass, pushing you on his thigh, using his body for friction as you continued to makeout, but he wouldn’t let you give his cock any attention.
He slowly sunk you both down to the cold linoleum floor and at last began to unbutton his shirt. He shucked his flannel down his arms, leaving his undershirt on, and spread it out on the floor beside you. Using his hands to guide you, he positioned you on your hands and knees overtop his shirt.
You remember the feel of the soft green flannel under your knees, the cold air hitting the wetness that had smeared down your inner thighs, his burning hot hands running down your back to grab and spread your ass, and the gentle kisses he placed all over you. You could barely make out the quiet things he was saying he was going to do to you, it almost felt like he was talking to himself.
I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Let me taste you, baby.
You had your head turned, watching him, until he bent down and began licking you. You closed your eyes as your face went red-hot with embarrassment that another person was seeing you like this, had his mouth on you there. You’d had boys put their mouth on your pussy before but never like this. Never with your most intimate parts spread wide and on display, a face buried in them and devouring you.
The boys before had laid you on your back and bobbed their head up and down, taking halting, tentative licks. You had waited for it to feel like it was supposed to, watching them fumbling in your folds only to give up mere minutes later, moving along to chase their own pleasure as if what they just did was anything close to what you wanted. Giving you just a glimpse of what it could be but never delivering what you needed, as if the act itself was perfunctory, just a means to an end. This was different.
Joel wasn’t tentative and he wasn’t fumbling. Joel knew exactly what he was doing, knew right where and how to touch you. Almost immediately your shame turned to pleasure as he lapped at you gently, swollen and extra-sensitive in anticipation as you were. This was what it was supposed to feel like. This is how a man was supposed to touch you. You began to moan and he pulled his face back a little, kissing and nuzzling your ass cheeks while bringing his hands to spread you again.
So fucking beautiful, you are so fucking beautiful here. Look how wet you are for me, baby. Can you feel this? Can you feel it? Do you know how beautiful you are?
You couldn’t even bring yourself to tell him to stop calling you beautiful because the next thing he did was slowly slide two fingers into your gushing hole. The sting of the stretch was eased by the pleasure of the fullness, his thick fingers taking up so much space inside you, pushing on your walls. You felt wetness practically flowing out of you and you thought it must be dripping down his hand. Before you could feel any embarrassment his fingers began to shift out and back in, and you immediately thought about how good his cock would feel filling you up like this, making you moan long and loud.
Yes baby, let me hear you, tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.
You managed to blabber something about needing him to touch you there, somehow still too shy - despite your current condition – to say the word clit to him. You didn’t have to, he knew what you needed. He pulled his fingers out and you heard him shuffle around and when you worked up the courage to look backwards you saw his knees sticking up behind you. Oh shit. You looked down, underneath you instead. He’d positioned himself laying on his back, face up, directly under your cunt. You had never had anyone do this to you.
Come on baby, sit back. No, shhhh, it’s alright. Just lower yourself down a little, just like that baby. I need to eat this pussy. I need you, please.
He guided you down by your hips until his lips made contact with your core. You were too scared to put your full weight on him so you remained leaned forward a bit on your hands, hovering just above his head with shaking thighs, despite his incessant pulling on your ass downward and moaning into your wet heat. His lips closed around your sensitive bud and you felt him begin to gently suck on it.
You couldn’t believe he was doing this. You were dizzy with desire. Never in your life had anyone had their mouth on you like this, like they were making out with your cunt. You alternated between feverishly throwing your head back and lowering your chin to your chest to greedily take in the sight of him ravenously eating you. You had never felt such blinding pleasure at the hands of another and you couldn’t stop yourself from wailing in ecstasy. You watched him pull away from you to take deep, gulping breaths, licking his lips of your wetness spread all over the lower half of his face.
Sit down baby, you can sit on my face. Just relax, I’m gonna make you feel so good. I know what you need, baby. I’m gonna take care of you. You taste so good, so fuckin’ sweet. This pussy was made for me.
You were trying not to sit down on his face, trying not to suffocate him, trying not to think about what a fucking mess he was making of you and you of himself. When he slowly pushed his thick fingers back inside your wet clutch, any and all thoughts left your head completely. He increased the suction of his mouth on your clit and began to flick the tip of his tongue up and down, maintaining a steady tempo of stimulating your clit and fucking you on his fingers.
The pace he set was bringing you closer to your release – for the first time in your life you were able to push everything else out of your mind and focus on your own pleasure. You sat back on your knees a bit more, putting more weight onto him and letting his hands hold you at your hips. You reached between your legs to run your fingers through his hair, wanting to give him a fraction of the intimacy he was giving you. You could hardly believe it. This was how sex was supposed to feel. This is why people liked it so much. This is why it meant so much. You had never felt anything close to this. This was everything.
Never faltering in his movements, never breaking his rhythm, he carried you higher and higher, finally cresting over your peak. Head thrown back and gripping his hair in your fists, fireworks burst behind your eyes as his name poured out of your mouth. You let him guide your hips in slow, smooth movements across his face, riding out the waves of your climax.
With muffled groans he continued to eat you through your orgasm, grabbing handfuls of your ass and reaching up to pinch your nipples until his insatiable attention became overwhelming and started to sting, causing you to shrink away from his touch. He pulled back then, gently turned you on your back – still on top of his flannel – and you leaned back on your elbows as he moved back to your cunt, gently lapping up your release.
You couldn’t believe how good it still felt, his hot tongue gently rasping against your swollen lips, his wet breath panting across your core. He was still moaning into you, the vibrations a pleasant sensation as he licked up everything you could give him. He placed kisses on your inner thighs and over your mound before rising to help you up and get back into your clothes. It wasn’t until the next day that you’d realized Joel must have left your underwear somewhere scattered on the floor and had blushed, hoping that whoever found them later wouldn’t know it was you who’d lost them.
You did so good, baby, that was so good. You were so beautiful. You tasted so good. So good, baby.
You briefly noticed there was a wet stain on the front of his pants but you weren’t sure if it was from him or from you. He locked up and then carried you back to the house that night, your legs were complete jello. You were pretty sure Tess was still up when you got back but you couldn’t think about the state she saw you in, all you could think about was him. He’d put you down on the porch at your insistence but he still had to help you up the stairs to your room. You’d fallen into bed and were asleep within minutes.
That was the night you knew you were all-in. You gave yourself over to him completely. Even though you didn’t have sex, you knew you would have. You would have done anything for him, let him do anything to you. You would have let him ruin you. You were ready to give up every part of you, and knew you would have sex with him soon, knew that it was inevitable. That was the night you placed your heart into his massive hands and left it with him so that he could mangle it to pieces and leave you a broken person.
But even that’s not a fair assessment, is it? That’s not a correct memory. You were always a broken person. He didn’t cause it and he never could have fixed it. There was something inside you that was irreparable. It was never his job to fulfill your needy fantasies. You can be mad at him for lying to you but you need to face your own part in this. You did this to yourself. You put yourself in this position.
The only solution is to remove yourself from the equation. You don’t belong here, you never did. You probably don’t really belong anywhere. You’re not meant to be with him. He can’t fucking save you. You have to save yourself. You have to find your own way. You have to leave. You have to leave.
You focus on the feel of the delicate, aged paper in your hands, the soft squeaking noises it makes as you push it into your palm, the way you push it back and forth in your hands to get it as small as possible. Then you hold it in between your thumb and forefinger, hold your arm out over the water, and drop it in. You watch as the ball is quickly overtaken by moisture, pulled under the surface, and carried away on the current.
–
In the dimming light of dusk you can see inside the farmhouse quite well. Lit by lanterns, you see Laurel through the kitchen window, working with Amber to fix dinner as Hank sits in his chair in the living room reading his bible. You turn your head and see the two ranch hands in the far field, herding the goats into their shed for the night. No one is looking for you.
You pick up your backpack from the ground and secure it over your shoulders, walking down the lane for the last time, never to return.
🖤
NEXT
Thank you so so so much to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk, for helping me with this series, even when you're sick and high on cold medicine 🫂You're the fucking A-1 steak sauce.
TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog
#devotion series#cult leader joel miller#noxturnalpascal#ofc!reader#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters
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Curiosity Shop (1971-1973) was Michael Eisner's attempt at creating an "educational" TV show to compete with PBS's then ascendant Sesame Street: Pam, Ralph, and Gerard pay a visit to the curiosity shop, where they experience puppets, animation, and shop owner Mr. Jones communicating with them via pre-recorded tape messages that always accurately predicts what the kids will say. The series was erased after broadcast and long considered lost media until two episodes were posted to Toontracker.net last year.
I'm absolutely obsessed with this clip because:
Pam calling one of her fellow children "unbelievably stupid"
Pam's outrageous scene-chewing delivery of this incredibly bitchy line (Actress Pamelyn Ferdin brings this same flamboyant theater kid energy to EVERY single line in her performance, btw)
The tape recorder telling Pam to, whoa, tone it down there, bitchy mcgee
The tape recorder acting like "Marcia from Mel Lazarus' Miss Peach" is a well-known cultural touchstone that we should all be instantly familiar with
"WHOOOOOOO'S MARCIA?"
The full range of emotions in Ralph's bizarre response where he initially seems to think that the tape recorder went TOO FAR in comparing Pam to Marcia but then almost instantly rethinks it and agrees (relatively) enthusiastically that, yes, Pam IS just like Marcia
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Hey nerds. Here are some our favorite Marvel headcanons we came up together!
Today we start off with our favorite boys.
These headcanons are SFW/NSFW so minors do not interact please.
Last thing, our ask box is open for requests for your favorite Marvel babes.
Enby/Fem readers.
Wade Wilson - Deadpool @hopperswhoreee
He’s an ass man
He is pan, he does not care who his partner is
Average size dick, I’d say between 6-7 inches
Man loves to go down on his partner, he’ll bury his head between their thighs until they’re screaming his name, and he’ll just keep going
He has an oral fixation. He’s always got something in his mouth, especially if he’s trying to concentrate on something
He loves aftercare. If you’re not careful he’ll rush through sex just for the aftercare because man is obsessed with his partner and loves hearing giggles and smiles and dimples and the way his partner’s eyes crinkle when they smile and he knows it’s just for him
A whore for a partner to be on top but uses it as an excuse to be a power bottom.
Loves lazy days eating shitty microwaved burritos and chimichangas and watching movies with his partner in matching pajama bottoms.
The crocs stay on. That's it.
Pain kink, he is an ass man remember?, he will smack it a lot… A lot, a lot.
Sit on his face
Loves to be handsy, especially in public as well so expect a lot of grazes on the butt and soft touches against the small of your back.
Wade is a softie for cheesy ass romcoms, he would know lines word for word.
Dancing to Wham! In your underwear with him.
Roleplay sex, Wade likes trying to do different things like pretending he is a pizza delivery man with his dick in the box. What? Wade is a dirty man, he is going to be lewd. You signed up for his shit.
Peter Parker - Spiderman (Tom Holland, and we are writing if his Peter was in his 20s/College times) @grinnincheshire
Boring straight boy, but up for threesomes if his partner asks
People pleaser translates to the bedroom
PRAISE KINK
Also maybe a small bondage thing…webs? Yes please
He loves cozy Saturday’s on the couch with his partner, legs tangled up, maybe Star Wars on the TV but he’s quoting the movies word for word. Sometimes he gets up and forces his partner to reenact the scenes with him because he’s such a giant nerd and his partner can never say no because the smile that’s on his face and the pleading eyes sucker anyone in
He’s obsessed with coffee and Starbucks and small coffee shops. He loves the atmosphere but he loves the smell the most. He hasn’t figured out how to get his apartment to smell like coffee yet and last, but he knows he will
He loves farmers markets, especially if he and his partner go on vacation to some small town in the middle of nowhere. He loves the energy that they create and how it feels like such a strange atmosphere for him but it feels cozy
Can be a soft Dom sometimes especially if jealous, but he loves when his partner takes more control.
He is going to have to get used to you stealing his clothes, especially the sweatshirts.
Webs for sexy time? Sure thing.
His partner riding him, he loves staring and watching their breasts bouncing up and down as they move their hips.
That man can get off but just trying to keep you please, and ruin his boxers for you.
Clumsy in bed, he is a flustering mess.
Expect you two building lego sets while watching nerdy movies with bottles of wine of course.
Peter tries his best to remember things, but he is forgetful and when it comes to forgetting something between the two of you like a major date, anniversary, etc... Expect a lot of kissing ass and him coming home to you with flowers that are all messed up from him swinging his way to you.
#marvel#marvel headcanons#mcufam#anything marvel related#marvel smut#marvel fanfic#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tom holland#tom!peter x reader#tom!spiderman#tom!peter x reader smut#wade wilson#deadpool#spiderman#spiderman fanfiction#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader smut#deadpool x reader smut#spiderman x reader#marvel fanfiction#mcu phase 4#mcu headcanons
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favorite 2023 korean album releases
episode1: love — soyoon
i loved her first solo album and i have been ecstatic by how much love this album has received because her skills as a songwriter just grew exponentially. what a suave, confident and powerful album. 'till the sun goes up' and 'canada' - the duality of a woman...i'm in love.
dipuc — cacophony
if you're not up to cacophony discography, i would highly recommend this album. from the first track, it was like she's immediately tucking you into her coat - crooning you an intimate sonic odyssey. the run from 'Lean Your Body On Me' to 'End' had me screaminggg. for the season, the track 'Christmas' is gorgeous.
notwitzki — beenzino
dammit...he's still good. beenzino's technical prowess has not slipped since his last release and while i was ready to be punched in the gut, this was a surprisingly tranquil listen. truly just an album perfect for a relaxing night drive with the boys, the girls, and the theys. 'Travel Again' and 'Change' are standouts to me.
pat pat — risso
if you don't find one track you can't groove to on this, you may be entitled to legal compensation. a citypop album i can't get enough of during the summer. the disco track 'SPF' and smooth r&b 'daydreamer' should've hit them to the mainstream stratosphere. it's soooo unfair how they don't have a romance kdrama ost under their belt already.
love pt. 2 — colde
starting out with my number one spotify wrapped artist. what else is there to stay...impeccably engineered k-r&b album with solid bops, an underrated featuring track ('heartbreak club' is the best track of the year to me - the reggae influence, the smoothest beat switch of the album, chan hyuk's 2000s flare rap line delivery), and a surprise cover of a korean indie classic.
sichimi — sumin
a chill, downbeat album to wind down after a long day with an ending that makes you wanna go back to the start. listen to this album just for 'Closet' where sumin and uhm jung hwa are just trying to out queen each other. obsessed.
zip — zion.t
it's been 5 years since his last release that i actually yelled when i saw the notification he released a music video because i wasn't expecting it all. as a long time fan, i loved the evolution you can see from 'oo' with the detour at 'zzz' culminating on this album. witty, eccentric and earworms galore, it's so solid. the lil ditty 'stranger' and the sweeping 'the things i love' (kim hae sol, you don't give me both a jazz solo and a choir in a track and expect it not being my immediate favorite) are gorgeous.
machine boy — silica gel
amazingggg rock album - i was blown away by the first track alone. you know they'd go so hard at concerts. also shoutout to 'machineboygong' for being a nine minute masterpiece which i recommend for you to listen at least once. it'd be remissed not to mention their latest album 'power andre 99' is astonishingly excellent as well.
no one can hunt me — joonie
my favorite experimental album of the year. if you're into electronic, this is a great listen. moody, dystopian, warped tracks that only spiral downwards to isolating madness. it's only four tracks and my fave constantly changes.
____
honorable mentions: yukika's "time lapse", ashmute's 'this place no longer exists', suzanne's "new life, new mind", dpr ian's "dear insanity...", epik high's 'screen time', code kunst's 'archive 01', voyeur's 'same dream, huh yunjin's 'blessing in disguise', thmoon's 'dormant'
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Okay y'all yesterday I watched the Much Ado About Nothing with David Tennant and Catherine Tate for the first time. Which means it is time for...
Thoughts
Okay. Cool. Great. Um.
Most of my thoughts currently are along the lines of THEYRE SO CUTE FUCK I WANT TO DATE SOMEBODY IM FRIENDS WITH ALSO SO BAD AND I LIVE THEM THEYRE SO ADORABLE AND CUTE
anyway, the other thoughts are about how David Tennant and Catherine Tate are frickin amazing actors omg. Just. Omg.
And like the whole they're both all silly and stuff, but then they have the scene in the church and Benedick is all like military mode and stuff and it's frickin amazing, having a character whose all silly and stuff but also has that side where you can 100% see that like 'that is a man who has fought in a war' and all.
There are so many like amazing line deliveries too, like lines that just the specific way they themselves said them made them funny, cuz Much Ado About Nothing is supposed to be a little bit unhinged (like lots of Shakespeare stuff) and primarily a comedy. And lots of adaptations don't quite get that I feel like, cuz I've seen other ones that don't quite hit the mark with a lot of lines. And I'm bad at thinking of specifics and all, but I feel like they definitely (as cliche as it sounds) brought out the spirit of Shakespeare and the play really really well.
Also, like, how cute is it that the both of them hear that the other is in love with them and are immediately like 'well I don't want to hurt them, so obviously I am just going to love them back aggressively' and like the scene where Benedick is covered in paint and just fuckin grinning at Beatrice while she talks is amazing and adorable.
Moment of appreciation for freshly cleaned and shaved David Tennant in the scene after that.
Anyway, the entire play was hilarious and all the actors were amazing. And the entire time I was thinking like, I feel like a large marker of Shakespeare's works is all the characters not communicating just for the sake of being dramatic bitches, which I support honestly go for it, but also it is incredibly funny that frickin Leonato found out about Claudio being deceived and instead of going 'okay well here's the thing we actually just faked Hero's death to avoid social scandal, you can marry her tomorrow' instead decided to put that off for a dramatic revelation.
As a last note I can guarantee that I am going to end up modeling any acting I do on David Tennant and Catherine Tate (or trying to anyway, my personality is very different so I might not pull it off well but there are some things I can incorporate) because I have an obsession.
Stay fresh y'all
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🪓 Nerdy Prudes Must Die - Some Thoughts 🪓
I decided to rewatch NPMD (second day in a row 🙈) and wanted to write down some random thoughts and reactions because why the fuck not 😌
‼️ SPOILERS FOR NPMD BELOW ‼️
I loved this show from the second it started omg I love things about murder 🤭
“Riiiiichie… Riiiiiichie…” — kind of gave off IT vibes ngl
They really killed off Jon Matteson’s nerd character in the first 35 seconds 💀
“They twisted his nipples off 🤣” - WHY WAS HE SO HAPPY ABOUT IT
THE PROJECTION OF THE TITLE IN THE VICTIM’S BLOOD, STARKID HAD HELLA BUDGET FOR THIS SHOW 🙌🏻
“🎵I’m dead…the blood is arbitrating from my head🎵” needs to become a trending TikTok sound or something oh my fucking gOD
LAUREN YOU QUEEN 🙌🏻👏🏻 also living for that fucking wig
MARIAHHHHHHH 🎵❤️
Definitely felt the “High School is Killin’ Me” “I’m so fucking dead” in my soul even though I’m a full ass adult now
“I was deep in a Twitter fight about a problematic puppy” ROFL OMFG
Joey as Peter Spankoffski 😭👏🏻
ANGELA AS GRACE CHASITY HELL FUCKIN YEAH SHE IS EATING THIS PART UP
We all knew someone at school who snitched to the teachers lbh 💀
“So you don’t wanna be bullied?” “No, I wanna be invisible.” “…then why do you come to public school dressed in suspenders and a fucking bow tie?” - PLEAAAASE 💀🤣
MICRO-PETER 😂💀
Joey taking off his glasses and going “oh god” under his breath, “IT’S NOT ACTUALLY A MICROPENIS”… oh he ATE the role, R*bert who?!?
“My titties are tenderised” - I MEAN SAME BUT-?!?
“I didn’t know you were funny.” “Neither did I.” “I like funny guys.” — I AM SORRY BUT IM ALREADY SHIPPING HARD
Actually obsessed with Richie’s hair and outfit like I can’t explain it other than I’m obsessed
IT’S MAX JÄGERMAN
“Ohh well there’s a difference between intent and impact - I learnt that at an anti bullying assembly last month, FUCK NUGGET” took me off guard tbh like I know I’m tired and easily surprised but still 🤭
GRACE CHASITY PROTESTING THE CO-ED HOMECOMING DANCE I CANNOT-
Jägerman is literally the archetype of the school bully jock who peaked in high school like omg but also he’s into Grace?!?!
“I run laps in the gym and I don’t want to slip on any SPUNK” - FUCKING HELL
“Can I carry your books for you?” “Carry my books? 🤢 I don’t think either of us are ready for that, I mean we’re only 18!”
“My little dirty girl.” — 😳😲😮💨
“I am only one man’s girl, Max, and his name is Jesus Christ!” — IM FUCKING HOWLING ANGELA KILLED THE DELIVERY OF THAT LINE I CANT-
“I’m a literal monster!” - oh so Max is self aware then 🤔
“This is politics, Stephanie 🙄 learn to multitask!”
I love that Starkid keep casting Corey as Mariah’s dad?!?
Stephanie is apparently her father’s “October surprise”… so her birthday is in October, like Hannah Foster’s? 🤔
“Stephanie, please, I’d like to have an intelligent conversation with you - in other words, shut up” - DAMN WHAT A BURN
NOOO NOT HER PHONE 😰 (I am also addicted to my phone so I get it lol)
NOT STEPHANIE THROWING HER HAND BETWEEN HER PHONE AND THE HAMMER OMFG (same though)
Mayor Lauter really said “I don’t give a shit if you lie, steal or cheat to get your grades up, just don’t get caught” - spoken like a true politician
“How am I supposed to study without listening to Spotify?!?” probably should not have resonated with me like it did 🤭
Peter trying to make a joke and Richie and Ruth not getting it is so relatable tbh
I’m obsessed with Ruth’s mushroom jumper tbh
“I just want someone to touch me… anyone, PLEASE” — ROFL (same girl)
“What was it like when she touched your arm?… DID YOU CUM?!?” — 💀💀💀💀
“You and Steph, it’s a fantasy - like a boy and his anime love pillows. It’s a beautiful dream, but I’ll never hold the real Rei or Asuka in my arms.” — I AM PISSING MYSELF LAUGHING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
“I’m such a loser, telemarketers hang up on me” 💀😭
DID RICHIE JUST FUCKING SAY “NANI!” JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I CANT DEAL WITH THIS SHOW 🤣
Richie and Ruth climbing Pete like a tree and demanding to know what Stephanie is saying is so ridiculously funny 😆
“Really, Ruth? A Star Wars analogy? Need I go into why Attack on Titan is superior in every possible way?” — STARKID UNDERSTAND THE NERDS I LOVE IT
“You’re telling me I gotta be funny again?!? I didn’t do it on purpose the first time!”
“Pete, you’ve been given a once in a lifetime opportunity - someone’s willing to tolerate your presence for a whole evening! This may never happen again!” — damn wish that would happen to me 😭🙈
Not Pete getting a boner during “Cool as I think I am” 🙈
Nooooo not Max finding Pete before he could go into the restaurant to meet Stephanie 😭
“I’m sick of your ssshhhhit!” — YES PETEY STAND UP TO HIM
The fact Max said “Rendezvous” as “Randay-Voose” 💀
The way it transitioned from “say your prayers” to the Chasity family going “AMEN” was PERFECTION
Grace’s father referring to his wife as “mother” is…something 💀
“He came up to me in the hallway and he asked if he could carry my books.” “Oh, Mark - I didn’t know that sort of thing happened at Hatchetfield High! Do you think you should call the boy’s father?” — ?!?!?!
“Mom, will you pass the butt stuff? The butter. Butter. Will you pass the butter? (Chuckles nervously) I just want some head and butter. BREAD! Bread! Bread and butt-sex to go with this big shaft of meat I’m gonna choke down. Oh boy…oh criminy!” - THE SCREECH I GAVE WAS UNHOLY
“I’ve just got some butterflies in my tummy; and they’re flying REAL low today” 😭💀🙈
GRACE FANTASISING ABOUT MAX IN THE BATH I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS
“Brewing up a big ol’ pot of dirty girl soup” - ABSOLUTELY NOT 💀
HES FUCKING SHIRTLESS WHAT THE FUCK-
“Everyone’s got their secrets, and this one’s mine. I love… Jesus! 😃” - this was when I definitely knew she was fantasising because ain’t no fucking way-
WAS THE DIRTY GIRL SONG SUPPOSED TO BE VIEWED AS HOT BECAUSE I AM VERY FLUSTERED AND CONFUSED AND TOTALLY VIBING WITH THE TUNE
🎵 DIRTY DIRTY GIRL WON’T YOU PRAY FOR ME🎵
You see, if Christian parents didn’t repress their teenager’s hormones and sexuality then MAYBE their teenagers wouldn’t resort to murder 🙃
Grace’s dad saying he’s going to get the plunger when she said she was doing a big poop 😭💀
Grace really thinks that impure thoughts only happen after marriage and I almost envy her innocence
“Money isn’t everything… looks are.” - yeah no that about sums people up in this day and age 😑
“We thought you were waifu material, but you’re just a bully” — NOT WAIFU MATERIAL 💀
PETE’S BLACK EYE NOOOO 😭🥺
Grace is kind of a psychopath and I’m loving that for her tbh
“I’m not comfortable with the plan if it involves that kind of language” but she’s comfortable with filming someone getting terrified and pissing their pants 💀
The “the place is not structurally sound” comment was DEFINITELY foreshadowing
“I get pus in my pits!” Jesus ☠️
🎵🤌🏻we’re gonna bully the bully🤌🏻🎵
“We’re gonna cut off his nips!” - what is with the obsession with n!pples in this show 😳
I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT WHEN THEY TALKED ABOUT KEEPING THE BEANS COOL
“You’re like super nice to me 😀” “…not really. I’m just doing the bare minimum here.” “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” “Oh, that’s sad!” — 😂😅🤣
“Okay, Richie, be honest… Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda” — OH FUCKING GOD IM CACKLING
“You kinda look like that homeless guy from downtown” 💀 FOURTH WALL BREAK?!?
Max must be VERY drunk because ain’t no way he thought Pete was a ghost or Ruth was actually a skeleton 💀
“Grace, we gotta abort the plan, it’s not working!” “It’s working for me, he’s so violent! 😍”
Not Max actually being touched by them putting this whole thing together for him 💀 very much giving off himbo vibes and I love him for that
MAX FELL THREE STOREYS
Oh my GOD THE FUCKING MAKE UP ON MAX FOR HIS DEATH SCENE HOLY SHIT
“NERDY! PRUDES! MUST! DIE!” — oh hey it’s the name of the show! 😃 And also it was written on the wall in… oh 😳
“I did get a lot of incriminating footage of us luring him here with malicious intent!” - uh oh
“My god! We’re going to jail! And with my luck, no one will even bother making me their bitch!” — PLEASE 💀
“It wasn’t murder, and it wasn’t an accident… it was an act of God! 😇” - Grace is UNHINGED
“No more tickling in our mommy spots!” - OUR WHAT SPOTS?!?
“🎵🤌🏻 We’re gonna bury the body! 🤌🏻🎵”
“Oh no she’s snapping again”
“I just cut off his nips 😌” - again with the nips?!?
DAN AND DONNA 😃😃😃
“Two weeks of heartache” - cut to all of his classmates happy without his influence 💀
STEPH PASSED THE TEST! 😃
“Ya know, this is really your C+.” “Oh Steph… you can keep it. It’d really bring down my GPA.”
Steph asking Pete out to the football game 🥹😁 we love to see it!
GO GO NIGHTHAWKS! 😃🦅 (I know it’s an eagle emoji there’s no hawk emoji 🙈)
“N, I-G, H-T… *squawk squawk* Ks!” 👏🏻🙌🏻
Richie is the team mascot and they wanted/needed him in the huddle 🥹
They apologised for bullying him 😭👏🏻
“And we’d like to apologise in advance for if Max ever comes back, ‘cause we’ll probably go right back to doing it”
“Fuck Clivesdale! Fuck ‘em straight to hell! Assholes!” — AGREED! 👏🏻
I’m 90% sure Jon actually struggled with taking that mascot top off but it worked well with the scene so 😌
“I love being alive! 😃” — oh he’s so about to fucking die, isn’t he?
IT’S MAX CALLING FOR RICHIE HES BACK FROM THE DEAD
MAX’S COSTUME/MAKE UP IS AMAZING OH MY GOD 😌💅🏻
“Should’ve joined the smoke club you nerdy prude” — ANOTHER SMOKE CLUB REFERENCE
Every song on this soundtrack fucking slaps I LOVE IT
There’s not very many men that can pull off being absolutely absolutely fucking terrifying while dancing and singing across the stage but Will Branner managed it so kudos to him
The bit where Richie was repeating what Max said (“who will pray for me? When I’m gone?”) was INSANELY GOOD
“What did they find? You don’t say…you don’t say!” “What’d they find, dad?” “They didn’t say” - 💀
“Oh heck… I’m so hecking fudged”
“*relieved* Oh well we don’t know anything about that one!” “Or ANY one!”
“Maybe it’s a coincidence. People tell me to die every day!” — Okay why is Ruth kind of me 😭
THE FUCKING CAMEOS IN “HATCHET TOWN” ASDFGHJKL?!?! ZIGGY?! MAN IN A HURRY?!? GERALD MONROE?!?
“Ohhh I remember before the lockdown” - yeah me too 😅
THE BARBECUE MONOLOGUES GOT ME HOLLERING 💀
Ruth walking onto the stage and into the spotlight 🥺 literally she was me this whole scene omg I relate so hard to most of what she said ASDFGHJKL
Lauren ATE that song up by the way
MAX KILLED HER BY WEDGIE-ING HER IN TWO AND THEN PUT THE PANTS OVER HER HEAD WHAT THE FUCK MAX 😭
Him telling her to “project” so those in the back row could hear her triggered me so bad as an actor omg 😳
Grace really accusing the entirety of Clivesdale 💀
As soon as the WWJD bracelet was brought up I KNEW what was going on 😭
“Who’s plan was it, Grace?” “It was God’s plan! And now he’s leaving me out to dry! Do something, you son of a bitch!” 💀😅🤣
Grace has lost her fucking SHIT and I fully support that for her
“Show Me Your Hands” musical refrain?!
BEANIES?!? PAUL AND EMMA?!? 😭😭😭 ITS FUCKING PAUL AND EMMA I CANNOT-
“Cup of roasted coffee” refrain too?!?
PAUL GAVE EMMA HIS NUMBER 😭❤️
PAUL + EMMA IN EVERY SINGLE TIMELINE, EVERY SINGLE UNIVERSE-
“EXCUSE ME I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR WHAT FEELS LIKE FIVE FUCKING YEARS AND I STILL HAVE NOT RECIEVED MY GODDAMN HOT CHOCOLATE” 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀😂😂😂😂😂 I FUCKKING CANT IM DONE
🎵”Don’t need a lover boy need a lover man / sure I’m a sapiosexual and you’re intellectual but I’ll cut my lover losses when I can” 🎵 — this song goes so hard omg
Grace pushing between them and shouting “leave room for Jesus!” 💀
“Do we need to get ahold of Ruth?” “Good luck getting ahold of her. Does your phone pls cover calls to hell?” “…Hell?” “She’s bisexual and dead, where else would she be?!?” — 💀
Grace whipping out the gun and telling Steph to cool her beans was so iconic of her
“(Canadian accent) ‘Cause if I’m going down, you hosers comin’ with me, eh” — OH MY FUCKING GOD
Doesn’t shock me a cop would arrest Paul for zero fucking reason, fuck the police 💀
“All I wanted was to be a regular girl with no sexual desire until she was safely married 😭” the FUCK-
“Don’t comfort her, she’s fuckin’ weird” 💀
“I don’t give a shit who you kill - but you just had to go and do it in that house, didn’t you?” — Mayor Lauter really said “murder is fine but NOT in that specific house, you fucking idiots”
THE LORDS IN BLACK?!? 😃 WIGGLY AND BLINKY AND POKEY AND NIBBLY AND TINKY?!?!? FUCK YEAAAAHH
“She gave me head in her car - check it out!” *throws Miss Tessburger’s head onstage* — BRO THE FUCK
WELP I GUESS MAYOR LAUTER IS DEAD THEN?!?
“Detective Shapiro, are you a woman of faith?” “Catholic.” “I’ll take that as a no” — THE FUCK GRACE 😑
They’re really about to summon five otherworldly entities who are evil I’m-
The Summoning screams CRACK and I’m living for it
“Hello Fwendy-Wends” - SCREAMING LITERALLY FUCKING SCREAMING
“WE DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR PHONE” TOOK ME OUT ASDFGHJKL
SHE CHERISHES PETE 😭
“Pay the price or fuck off” 💀
Can I just say that I need would love a show specifically just about the Lords in Black fucking about and it’s Jon the whole time as Wiggly exactly as he was during the Summoning scene because that was AMAZING IM SHAKING-
The fact Pete cherishes Steph and she cherishes him oh my hEART 😭
“Hey Steph, if things were different, would you wanna come to homecoming with me?” “I’d like that, Pete. I’d really like that.” - SHUT THE FUCK UP NO 😭😭😭
Not Max saving Pete from being shot 💀
“So you do know the Bible!” — GRACE OMG IM SCREECHING HELP
“But Jesus never threw a football like you, Max” - WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING
Max being confused about what dirty girl soup is and then being turned on when she explains 😭💀
“Take me, Max, right here on the 50 yard line!” — oh dear gOD
Max’s struggle over whether to kill Steph and Pete or whether to bang Grace omfg 😭😅
THE NOISES OFF STAGE OMFG WTAF 😭💀😂😅🤣
Grace got Max kicking his feet, twirling his hair, after one shag, just like a teenage girl 💀 I’m crying so hard with laughter I can’t cope with it-
GRACE GAVE HIM HER CHASTITY AND SACRIFICED WHAT SHE CHERISHED MOST ASDFGHJKL
PETE AND STEPHANIE AT HOMECOMING TOGETHER ASDFGHJKL ✨T H E M ✨
Grace choosing not to get the dance cancelled and she brought a date?!? That’s character development! 😀
She let Jason walk her home?!? O_o and then asked him to kiss her?!?!
“That was… absolutely disgusting! Really, Jason?!? Kissing on the first date?!?” Oh noooo 💀
“You’re a dirty perv, Jason”
SHES GOT THE FUCKING BLACK BOOK IS SHE SUMMONING THEM AGAIN
🎵DIRTY DUDES MUST DIE🎵
Well thIS TOOK A FUCKING TURN DAMN
Anyway, 11/10, immaculate, amazing, incredible, show-stopping, would recommend to everyone of course and will definitely be rewatching it a LOT 🪓
#nerdy prudes must die#npmd#starkid#team starkid#joey richter#mariah rose faith#angela giarratana#lauren lopez#jon matteson#curt mega#kim whalen#will branner#corey dorris#grace chasity#peter spankoffski#pete spankoffski#richie lipschitz#stephanie lauter#ruth fleming#max jagerman#mariah rose faith casillas
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I would looooove if you could write a little something about Steve and Bucky celebrating Bucky reaching weight gaining milestones. Stuff like going up his first size, out growing his drivers seat, reaching 300,400, 500 etc (maybe also reaching immobility?? If that’s not too extreme haha sorry just a wish)
Like do they celebrate with feast, a special meal that has emotional meaning to them, buying Bucky new clothes/gifts?
Thank you for indulging me!
Not gonna lie, I am BAD at actual numbers and knowing what someone would look at that size so.... this might be rough, but I'm trying and I'm not thinking too hard because, uh, horny brain = dumb
Warning for unbeta'd stucky belly kink, lots of stuffing, weight gain, some immobility, etc.
I think the through line of all these milestones is one thing: stuffing.
It might seem kind of unimaginative because aren't they just stuffing Bucky to make him gain anyway? What's special about stuffing him when he reaches a milestone? Well. Let me tell you -
When Bucky reaches a milestone, Steve makes sure the stuffing is extra ✨️special✨️
He goes all out, making sure to get anything and everything that Bucky has been recently craving, and ensuring that he orders as much as he can that way there's no interruptions in their session. He also ensures that Bucky is pampered throughout the stuffing. Anything he wants, he gets. Steve isn't mean when he doesn't hit milestones, not unless Bucky wants him to be 😏, but he's more inclined to let Bucky struggle, sweating and panting and rubbing his own tummy. When he hits a milestone, Steve will all but pat his damp forehead dry, handfeed him every little bite, peel his grapes, cut his food into bite-sized pieces, rub his belly, belly him put his feet back to recline under his growing gut, and anything and everything else.
Steve makes it worth his while. They both are obsessed with Bucky's weight gain, if they weren't, they wouldn't be hitting so many milestones to begin with, and they both know that, but these celebratory stuffing milestones are Steve's way to really, truly express that obsession. That admiration. He can't fucking believe that Bucky is growing so large and round for him. The weight is piling on. It's incredible.
200
Bucky starts his weight gain journey around 180lbs, so the first 20 pounds don't really look that different. Unless someone is really looking for that extra little bit of softness, they wouldn't see it. His face is a tiny, tiny bit rounder. His ribs are less visible. His belly pooches out, it's no longer flat, but he could also could just be bloated. It's not huge (not yet 😏). His thighs and waist aren't really noticeably larger, either, they're squishier but... not bigger, really.
Those first 20lbs are different, though.
20lbs.
That is an accomplishment.
Bucky's body is changing.
Steve and Bucky can't wait to see him change even more. Rounder. Bigger. Fatter. Yes. So... in anticipation of getting larger, they celebrate these 20 pounds with a stuffing and unknowingly set the tone for the rest of their milestone celebrations.
They celebrate with a stuffing. Bucky's most indulgent stuffing yet.
Steve orders take out from several different restaurants, having the deliveries staggered so none of Bucky's food gets cold while he works on the first course. Bucky jokes halfway through the second order that if all of Steve's orders for him are so massive, he won't last through another one! There's no way! He's already running out of room. His gut is heavy, getting heavier. He's not chubby enough yet for his tummy to be squishy when he's full. He's full. He's taut. He can press his fingers into the tight, round, surface pushing out from his ribs, but it aches when he does. He can feel all that food in there.
Steve takes over when the next course arrives, feeding him with one hand, rubbing his starter belly with the other. Massaging him to softness so they can wedge more calories in him.
"C'mon, yeah, yeah, that's it," Steve encourages, drooling as if he's the one filling up on rich, delicious food, not the other way around, "swallow it, good boy, you got this. You can do it. You gotta keep eating. Doesn't this feel good?"
Bucky moans, chewing and throwing his head back to swallow, feeling the food push down his throat in a sizable lump and land on top of the mound of food bloating him into a round balloon. It does feel good.
Really good.
"Yeah, I know, baby," Steve replies, shoveling more into his mouth for him, "don't you want more? You wanna feel even better. You wanna get even fatter."
Bucky mumbles his agreement, "yesh," through his food, even though it's a rhetorical question. This does feel incredible. He really does want more. More food. More of Steve's big, heavy hands on his growing, gurgling belly. More fat. More stretch marks. More achy cramps from muscles pulled tight. More fullness. More. More. More.
Could he already be addicted to this?
The doorbell rings again.
Delivery.
Bucky groans, dropping his head back and shutting his eyes just to swallow. He really doesn't know.
"Looks like you'll get your wish," Steve sounds like he's wearing a shit-eating grin.
Fuck.
"Don't worry," he gives Bucky another quick forkful before standing up and moving toward the door, "it looks like you'll get your wish, baby."
Bucky swallows; his stomach whines, making his dick twitch. So. full. "Uh-huh," he puffs.
"It's just dessert," Steve softens, smiling and coming over with, thank fuck, just one bag of take out.
By the time Bucky has demolished the bag, courtesy of Steve shoveling bite after bite after bite between Bucky's sugary, sweet lips, Bucky's head is spinning. Steve is rubbing his belly around where Bucky's hands are glued to his excessive, domed tummy. He's never been rounder. He's never eaten more - not on Thanksgiving, not on Christmas, not during any of their stuffing sessions before. He's never seen himself so big. He's never -
He's breathing so hard.
He's sweating buckets.
He's tight.
He's hard.
He's full.
He's never been so stuffed. Speaking of Thanksgiving, he feels like a gorged turkey. Packed. Dense. Oooh. Fuck. He groans. It feels so good. Why does it feel so good? It should feel bad! His stomach is throbbing, tight and achy, but so is his cock. He's not used to how connected his cock and belly are still. How can his stomach swelling make him so horny? 😫😫
Fuck it, he doesn't care when it's so good!
It gets even better when, with awe and arosual in his voice, Steve tells Bucky he's done. He finished everything. There's nothing left.
"Oh my god, you're a blimp-"
Bucky shivers, blinking his eyes open and gaping, food-drunkenly, down at himself. His gut.
His. gut.
"Look at you," Steve coos, rubbing him.
Bucky can't let go of himself.
He's-
He's big.
So big.
He can't believe this is real.
"You're, God, I've never seen you so," he trips over his words, truly fucking thrilled, "so fat."
Bucky whines, he wants to shout, I know! I know! But he can't speak, he's breathing too hard.
"What do you say, baby, wanna take this party to the bedroom, stretch out? Let this tummy bloat?"
Fuuuuck.
He's so stuffed and -
And he's gonna grow bigger. Steve is so right. All that grease and fat and rich sweetness from the takeout. He's going to bloat even bigger. He might pop! He does need to stretch out! He nods.
How much weight has he gained sitting here, in pure food? How much weight is he going to gain, digesting all this food? How fat can he possibly get?
"Alright, up you get, then," Steve murmurs, getting up himself first. After, he looks at Bucky expectantly.
Trying his hardest, Bucky fights the heavy mound of his gut, sticking straight out from his torso, solid with food. He heaves, once, twice, three times, he, he-
He can't get up.
Bucky gasps for air around his stretched belly. His lungs are crushed. Short of breath from being so round. Bucky wants to moan, but he doesn't have the air for that either. His hands scramble against the tight, hard surface of his belly, reaching for something, anything to pull himself up, but not getting anywhere because he doesn't want to stop touching himself. He can't stop touching himself. He feels so good. Solid. Round. Tight.
Steve-
Steve watches him with dark, intense eyes. Looking at him like he wants to take a bite of him. "Are, are you-" he doesn't finish. He can't.
Bucky whimpers thinly, nodding urgently. He is. He really is too big to get himself up off the couch. That's never happened before! He's too stuffed! Too round!
Bucky is ungodly turned on.
All he can think about is how good he feels and how much he can't wait until he doesn't have to be stuffed to feel like this. He wants to be so fat that he can't get up even when his belly is empty, except, wait, no! He never wants his belly to be empty again. He wants to be stuffed always. He wants to be stuffed twice as large as he is right now because he wants all this heavy, heavy food to be fat. Soft-yet-firm fat. Wobbling and round. He wants-
Steve jerks him up by the wrists. He's panting, too. He has no excuse. He's not stuffed to the point of the best kind of achy, throbby pain.
Steve's large, strong hands land on his hips, suddenly steering him - walking behind him with his lips to Bucky's ear - "c'mon tubby, you need your rest to work through all these calories," his fingers caress the impossibly round belly attached to Bucky. His belly. His belly! That's all Bucky's! "Let's get you to bed." Steve's voice lowers to a whisper, "I'm gonna lay you back and suck the fuck outta your dick, baby, this is the hottest shit I've ever seen. I can't believe you vacuumed all that food up. You're a little, well," he chuckles, "maybe not little, but you're a black hole."
Bucky leans his bigger mass back into Steve, stumbling, toddling, and weak at the knees from his words.
Fuck.
He's going to do anything to keep hitting milestones. All of this is so unbearably hot. The excess. The fullness. The weight.
300
Again, when Bucky finally, fucking finally, yet also so soon, how has it been so long since he was 200 lbs and no time at all with how fast the weight is piling on - ballooning in thick, chubby rolls - they celebrate with a stuffing where Bucky eats as much as he possibly can.
Engorging himself beyond belief. Fatter, fatter, fatter. Rounder, rounder, rounder. The numbers just keep ticking up. From 180 to 200 to 250 to 300. It's so satisfying to watch those digital numbers tick up, almost as satisfying as rubbing his hands over the dome of his belly, pushing out from his plump moobs.
This time -
This time, when Bucky eats as much as he can, stuffing himself, it's so much more.
More.
More in that Bucky and Steve start at a restaurant, dining in. Steve chooses Bucky's order. Steve makes sure to get a dish he knows Bucky loves, but going for the more indulgent, more expensive order that Bucky wouldn't dare if he were in control. The plate is massive. Stacked with food.
Steve remembers when Bucky's eyes would've gone wide, thinking how will I possibly fit all of that inside me?
Now, the opposite happens. His eyelids hang heavily over his eyes, pupils expanding and darkening. He's thinking, I can't wait to put all of this inside me and more.
"You hungry, baby?" Steve asks, playing footsy with him under the table.
Bucky knocks their shoes together, "mmm-hmm," he moans, dramatically shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply at the aroma of his food.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Dig in, tubby."
Bucky moans softly under his breath, obeying.
He shovels the meal into his mouth in record time, practically licking his plate clean and moaning around the taste even though he's stuffing himself so effectively that Steve doesn't possibly know how he can taste it. Steve lets his meal last... Bucky will need a little time to digest between now and the food they're going to have waiting at home. Fucking bless scheduled deliveries.
Steve orders them dessert to go, having their waiter box it up. The fudgy cake will be perfect to top Bucky off after his second and third courses. Maybe his fourth, too. Steve and Bucky are on the same page with pushing limits. Bucky will end tonight tight as a drum and round enough to roll. He can't think like that if he wants to get up any time soon, though. 🥵
"St-" Bucky pauses to burp into his fist, "Steve," he moans, shifting in his creaking, wooden kitchen table chair. He's nearly too heavy for it even when he's not stuffed with 10 or more pounds of dinner.
"What, baby?" Steve's fingers feel cool against Bucky's damp, feverish forehead, brushing a stray strand of hair out of the way.
Bucky can hardly breathe, his gut is pressing into his body so much. It feels like he hasn't got room. He needs. He -
"Steve," he moans again.
"Babyyy," Steve rubs firm circles on the tight, tight surface of his belly, "what is it?"
"Guh," he complains. He can feel sweat pooling at the base of his spine, above his thick ass, arched with the weight at his front. He can feel dampness under his arms and between his bloated belly and round, fat pecs. He might be sweating in the crease of his double chin. God. When did eating become such hard work?
"Do you need to get outta this chair, Buck? Is it too small for you? Huh?"
Bucky nods, burping and moaning at the same time. Every release of pressure feels so fucking good.
He knows he can get more in, he wants to get more in, he just needs-
Oof.
He needs to get more horizontal. He's being pressed in on, on all sides; the arms of the chair digging into his blubbery, stacked, and stretch-marked sides; the back of the chair pressing into his big, big ass; his belly so tight and full that it's hurting his lungs. His poor body. He's compressed and about to pop.
"Alright, fatty," Steve softens, grabbing his thickening wrists and pulling him forward.
It takes effort.
Steve has to heave, grunting. Bucky has to put in all his strength against his weight. The chair creeeeaks.
"Ugh!" Bucky groans, his arms trying to soothe his sloshing belly. He can't, though, Steve is still grabbing him, still trying to get him up. Fuck. Fuck, he's such a fat ass. How can eating be such hard work? How can struggling to get up feel so good? How can getting fat be so luxurious? Fatter. Getting fatter. He was already fat.
Finally, Bucky's sides unstuck. Unwedged. Popping free.
He nearly topples forward, all his weight fighting gravity going forward, forward, forward and-
Steve steadies him with a laugh, "woah, there," patting him on the bowed out side.
Bucky's whole belly ripples. Christ. He's never felt fatter. His back complains, arching more. It's like he's pregnant. God. Oh, God, what did he eat that was so heavy? How did he get so heavy?
He staggers after Steve, going wherever he leads. Panting. Wobbling. Struggling. The thing that keeps him from taking a break, asking for a breather like a true fatty, is more. More food. He gets more after this.
More.
He's not done yet.
This celebration is going to end with a bang. That bang might be Bucky popping.
Fuck.
He's gonna explode.
Sitting on the couch is easier than sitting at the table. The couch doesn't force him to sit up so straight. It's easier. He can feel all the food shifting inside him, glorping and sloshing. He almost feels... hungry. On the couch, he can leave his arms splayed out by his throbbing sides, giving himself room to bloat. Rounder. Tighter. Skin flushing redder. Fuck. Mooore. He moans for it.
More.
Steve answers his cries, hand feeding him. He takes care of Bucky so well, and with every bite Bucky moans - he swears he can feel himself growing with each bite.
He might, fuck, it's so intense that he might black out. All he knows is there's a barrage of food that's going down his gullet and landing in the massive pot that is his gut. Tight. Tight. Tight.
At some point, he's done. He can't breathe. His lungs can't expand. There's no room in his body. His belly is completely solid. Stuffed to the absolute brim. Gluttonous bliss. All of the fat that's grown on his heavy frame feels a hell of a lot less jiggly suddenly.
Shit.
Fuck.
He huffs. He puffs.
Steve is talking to him, telling him something about how hot he is. So full and stuffed. Sitting on his ass, getting bigger. Larger. Gonna be so huge.
It all rolls over Bucky. He can only focus on the pulse of his racing heart in his belly. He, he-
Steve rubs his gut, and he swears it's so good he might cream in his underwear. His underwear feels too tight. He's never been so impossibly packed. Solid all the way through. He'll never move again. He's never felt so fucking huge. He's never felt more fucking sexy. Everything about this is sexy. Blindingly so. Greedy. Excessive. Gluttonous.
Steve's fingers stray from Bucky's struggling, stretched skin over his broad gut and dip into his shallow belly button.
"OH!" Bucky wails. He's so sensitive there! It tingles, and the hot, thick pleasure shoots electrically straight to his dick where it's trapped under the boulder of his belly.
Steve fucks his belly button with his fingers, thrusting, curling, pressing.
"Ohhhh, oh, ohh, God!"
Steve keeps at it. Fingering his belly. He's trying to jiggle and wobble his fat, but he's so tight. He's too packed. Made illogically huge.
Pleasure curls hot and tight and electric inside Bucky. How is there room?! It's even more intense now than it was before - how full he is. He's going to come. He's going to pop. Burst. Explode. Fat. Fatter. The weight of his gut on his swollen cock is good but really, it's just that he's been rewired to find his gut insanely erotic. He's grown, and he's gotten more sensitive. His nerves feel like they're most alive over his gut. Steve's thick fingers in his belly button are what's doing him in.
Christ!
Bucky wails when he comes, his dick entirely untouched. His poor, abused, stretched belly the only thing getting loved on.
Steve stares, stunned. "Fuck, I fucking love you, glutton," he rasps, nearly speechless.
400
Bucky is 400 lbs, and he has truthfully never felt so good.
It's so much effort to walk - to do all these small little tasks that were effortless when he weighed over 200 lbs less - but it feels good to walk, too. He's started waddling. Just a little. Unsteady. Heavy. His legs are thick, and his chubby thighs jiggle, sweatpants about to burst at the seams. His love handles shake and rub against his chubby arms with every plodding stride he takes, the hem of his shirt slowly coming up to expose his stretch-marked, soft fat. His belly gurgles and sloshes, dragging his back into a painful arch with all the weight it adds onto the front of his blubbery, round body. His moobs bounce, all this excessive, obscene cleavage straining against the stretched fabric of his t-shirt. Just walking makes his dick hard now.
Yeah.
He's fucked up. He's fucked up on food.
He always had a thing for food, there's no denying that, but Steve has trained him so well. He gets so hard for anything around food. Calories. Fat. All of it.
Bucky is almost always drunk with excessive fullness and gluttony, aching for more.
More.
Steve stuffs him, giving him what he wants. Moremoremoremore. Greedy fucking glutton.
Bucky already has past the point of fullness where he can keep going on his own tonight during this celebratory stuffing. He isn't walking right now. He's simply feeding. His belly is throbbing.
Full to the top.
No extra room.
Still, more food is being shoved inside him. Shoved down his throat. Added to the immense, thick fat already on his frame.
Bucky groans around the food in his mouth. His mouth floods with saliva. Good. It tastes so good. He can feel his stomach stretching. Preparing for more.
More.
There is only the need to get more. Grow more. Fatten up more. Become as massive as he can until he can't walk - until lying down is the same blissful sensory experience of walking. Rolls rubbing against rolls, stacked up, he's so big. His body has no more room for fat. So incredibly excessive.
Steve chuckles at his loud outburst, begging for more, "that's it, baby," he murmurs, his fingers gently running down his throat, coaxing him to swallow. "Take it. Get bigger for me."
Yes.
Bucky moans again.
More.
There's just a little bit left.
A little bit more.
Chewing and swallowing, desperate simply to grow, Bucky finishes the last of the feast. Bite by bite. Swallow by swallow. Exactly what Steve gives him, Bucky consumes. Encouraged not only by the lust inside him, just as heavy and oppressive as the mass of calories in his belly, but by the way Steve stares at him. His eyes are heavy. Dark. His hands are greedy, rubbing, pinching, wobbling - playing.
Playing with him.
Playing with his fat. Playing with Bucky. His fat, pet glutton. His own bloated playground of softness. Unbearably sexy for them both. Bucky is living it and breathing it, and Steve is watching it, eyes glued. He's never seen something more obscene.
Bucky moans. He burps. The pressure inside of him is immense. He feels immense. He can barely stomach it.
So. much.
Bucky wants to get up. Not to get away - he doesn't want to stop, just the opposite, this is all he wants forever - but he wants to waddle into their bedroom and get horizontal to really feel the intense fullness, to feel all the heaviness on his lungs, to feel what he's done to his body. Grown. Increased. Swelled. Fattened.
Bucky can't get up, though. It's not even that he's too full. He is too full! But. But... He can't. He can't fucking get up. He couldn't if he tried. It's too fucking hot. Hot and heavy. He's too heavy. There's too much fat in his way. Way, way too much fat. He's made himself so fat. Steve's made him so fat. He's so big. Getting bigger.
Bigger. God. Was their ever a hotter word?
Steve groans, and he squeezes Bucky's prized gut. His gut wobbles in thick, slow waves, even with how full he is. Solid. Stuffed. Bucky can't believe it. The way it feels-
Christ.
It's orgasmic.
So fat.
So thick.
So heavy.
With a long, satisfied moan, Bucky's hips try to jerk forward. He's too heavy. He can't move. Stuffed and entirely immobilized. His body moves, though. His belly. Waves. Fat. Thick.
Heavy.
Oh, God.
It's too much.
Bucky short fucking circuits, electricity shocking through him, white, hot heat that makes him come messily, grinding against the underside of his completely full, flabby belly.
Fuck!
Steve is on him before his head stops spinning, spreading his thighs WIDE to accommodate for Bucky's thick girth. He's grinding against Bucky's blubber, which is pushing all his sensitive, thick fat hard and harder against Bucky's sensitive cock. He just came! He can't come again! He can't! He can't! Oh, God. He can't even see straight. Nothing has felt so good. So indulgent and decadent.
Steve shoves the last, last bite of food messily between Bucky's gaped, moaning lips, muffling his desperate, wailing sound, and forcing Bucky to swallow breathlessly. He licks at Steve's fingers, still struggling to breathe, and that's what sets Steve off. That show of pure fucking gluttony. Nearly bursting at the seams and still mindlessly accepting more.
500
For the first time, when Bucky is officially waddling and heaving for breath every time he moves - not even when he's walking! Just when he's moving! Shifting from laying to sitting up, changing his position on the couch, crouching to dig through their always stoked pantry, whatever - Steve doesn't make enough food and doesn't order enough food for Bucky to get fully stuffed during their celebratory orgy of gluttony.
Gluttony on gluttony on gluttony 🥴🥴
All compounding into one rich, pampered, too decadent feast. It's such a feast that just getting a whiff of all the foods that are laid out for Bucky to put down would make you gain weight. POUNDS of weight. Easily.
Still, ALL of what Steve has set out is not enough.
Bucky has grown into such a pig, no, a hog, NO, such a whale that the courses, courses, and courses are food do not satisfy the greedy beast inside of Bucky's wobbling, endlessly round belly.
Steve has to order more food for Bucky when they're winding down to the last few platefuls. God. He's so fat that even when he's approaching full, then, after they get their next order of take out and Bucky's moaning about being on the cusp of bursting, he's all soft and round.
Other than the way that his skin glistens with sweat, the way that his feminine, heavy chest heaves and jiggles, and the way that he moans excessively loud, unable to shut his mouth, unable to shut up... you would never know that he's full to the brim. Packed. Stuffed. No more room. It looks like there's plenty of room in that gut. There has to be! How could anyone so sinfully fat ever be satisfied? You don't get to Bucky's impressive, lavish size without pushing yourself to the limits. Yeah, Bucky's habit of gorging himself until he's stuck on his back has never been more visible than it is now. Steve loves to see it.
Steve loves ordering Bucky more food. His dick is hard, he's already come once. Bucky has, too. They just couldn't wait. Why would they wait? They're indulging tonight. They're celebrating. They can do whatever the fuck they want.
"Steeeeve, Steve, Steve, 'm gonna fucking pop. Swear to God," Bucky slurs between bites of food, he's still fucking eating like he's ravenous, digging into his feast in the same way that a starved predator digs into a luscious, juicy fresh kill. There is no time to worry about such silly sensations as fullness. It is not every day that prey is caught and torn into. Bucky must take what he can get. He must stuff himself like a predator. Moaning, burping, groaning, gut gurgling through its excessive bounty. It drives Steve insane. "'M really gonna, gonna explode this time, oooooh," he grips his tummy, chubby hands scrambling over the roundness attached to his ballooned body. He looks like one of those people from Wall-E.
Like he's never walked on his own two feet. All fat. Round, soft, soft fat.
Steve slaps his gut, reveling, perversely, in the way that Bucky groans and how deep his hand sinks into his blubber. He really is a whale. He's not meant to walk. Yet, he's too fat to swim now. He can't go anywhere. He can't do anything but eat. Glut. Consume. Gorge. Stuff.
"Jesus Christ," Steve growls.
"Mmmmmnghh," Bucky senselessly moans. "So. Fat." He pants.
"Sooo fat," Steve agrees darkly, "you're so huge, baby."
"Wanna be," he pouts.
"You don't have to want to be. You are, fatty. You are the biggest. The fattest. I can't believe how fat you've gotten. I can hardly see your stomach bulging through all this fat!" Steve swallows his drool, "just look, Buck-!"
Bucky obediently looks down, his sweet, round face developing another chin.
Christ.
Steve could blow his load all over those chins right now, untouched. He doesn't. Instead, Steve squeezes all the soft fat that's malleable and thick despite being stretched around his throbbing belly, then he shakes it.
Bucky's fat moves. "Guh, mmm, fuck, Steve," Bucky gasps, he tries to hold his belly in place, he's so sensitive! He can't take it! It does nothing, though. Steve is shaking his whole gut. He's pressing his hands into his fat. He's trying to find his rock-solid gut under all that blubber. But it's too much! There's too much! Steve can't feel anything, so he keeps going. Bucky can do nothing because he can't even reach all of his gut. His arms aren't long enough. His stomach is so huge.
So. huge.
All of him is so huge.
Steve's plan, post endless stuffing, was to get Bucky onto his hands and knees and see how close his gut is to the floor, but... looking at him like this, feeling him like this, he knows it won't work. Bucky is too round. Bucky is too big. Bucky is too much of a whale, his gut is too round to let his hands and knees touch the ground, although...
He squeezes one last time, Bucky whimpers, "Steeeeve, 'm too full!"
Maybe all that blubber would squish out around his sides, and he'd get stuck like that. His belly and piled up, excessive fat would prevent his arms and legs from being able to move. Bucky would just kneel there, moaning, his fat wobbling while Steve fucks him, on the cusp of filling him more. Giving him just enough to really make him burst. Too much.
Maybe Steve should carry out his plans.
Maybe Steve will carry out his plans to fuck his butter ball... once he digests some.
Steve isn't strong enough to move Bucky without any imput from the food drunk, pleasure drunk glutton himself. 500. God. How did he get so big? How did he grow so large? When did his appetite become entirely bottomless? The mind willing, only the flesh weak.
Flesh.
Fatty, pale flesh stretched to the point of a hot, red stain and stripes covering him. Overindulged. Overfed. Fattened. Ballooned into an unrecognizable, excessive, burping, groaning whale from the slim, svelte, charming man. Steve doesn't hardly recognize him, though. Steve knows that this is what Bucky was always meant to be. Bucky was meant to be so massive. Luxury. Soft. He slaps the perverse surface of his domed middle again.
Bucky sobs, "fatter, fatter," he whines, "gonna get bigger!"
"Fuck yeah, you are, tubs," Steve can hardly scramble into his lap now, there is no room with his gut in the way, "you're gonna keep growing, you're gonna get bigger." He humps that irresistible, soft, but stuffed belly. "You're never gonna stop. You couldn't. You won't."
"Fatter! More! Steve! Make me fatter!" Bucky chants, agreeing desperately. He can't even twitch into Steve humping him, so he just moans recklessly. Craving. More food. More sex. More indulgence. He needs it. Neither of them can actually imagine what he will look like any bigger than he is, but they will find out. He needs to grow until the couch and the bed can't hold him. Too fat. Too heavy. Too much. Yes.
Yeah 🥵🥵
(Here's a short add on!)
#ask#mylevisdontfitanymore#writerkenna#belly kink#text#stuffing#weight gain#bucky barnes#steve rogers#stucky#chubby bucky#fat bucky#immobility
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Love in Translation Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts
Last week, we went off the deep end with Yang being kidnapped and being forced to work on a packaging warehouse in his skinny jeans to pay back his debts. He was able to smuggle messages out by changing delivery addresses and using the language learning code he taught Phumjai. The rest of the cast rallied around to support Phumjai when they didn't know what had happened to Yang, and also Phojai and Tag reconciled beautifully. Phumjai went rogue to try and rescue Yang alone, and now both have been captured.
1:09:32 finale!!
Phumjai really had no plan and got hurt.
Now Phojai and Tag have showed up with no plan. What the hell is this?
All these boys trying to sacrifice themselves only works because these characters have cared so much for each other consistently.
We're doing PPL in the middle of the crisis. I love it. We need 5 million baht. Perhaps if the audience buys this camera we'll save the boys?
What is Bojji up to?
We took of Ngern's shirt and made him sweat, but at what cost?
The PPL is driving me insane this week. You're too injured to lift things. Good thing we have this app to our local wholesaler.
Oh no, Bojji is having issues as well.
I like that Phumjai is stepping up and putting the money he has on the line in a way that asks Yang to trust him more.
Okay, I like this show ending the debt collection on a comedic note.
Curious what Yang does long term if he's given his shares to the employees.
Phojai and Tag are moving in together!!
Obsessed with these two playing baseball as a quality time exercise.
What is it with these dramas and showing a scene from even further back as a beginning of romance event? This is specific to Asian dramas.
Final episode brotherly context and emotional reconciliation. I'm okay with it.
More PPL. I'm losing my mind, but glad this little show must have succeeded.
This episode is so weird, but I'm having fun.
Qi'er and Bojji are so valid for the screaming and falling out.
The parents look so pleased about Yang and Tag.
Little Sun is going franchise, baby!
DID TAMMY TURN THEM INTO A NOVEL?? SHE SAID I'M GETTING PAID BACK FOR Y'ALL USING MY LIKENESS IN YOUR STORE AND PLAYING WITH MY FEELINGS!
They said the name of the show. Finish your drinks.
And now they're proposing? This show has everything.
Okay. Drawing the ring on Yang"s finger was so goddamn cute.
Of course they met as kids. These dramas love the notion of destiny.
Final Verdict: 8.5, This Show Was So Much Fun. Phumjai and Yang are one of my favorite pairs of the year. I liked the way they fell for each other and the way this show used its workplace. The plot wobbled massively throughout the final two episodes, and we lost the thread on a few things along the way for product placement, but I really loved these characters so much and I loved the way they treated each other. I'm going to miss having this show in the balance. Offroad and Daou and friends did a great job here.
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Courtesy Call
Summary: Osamu befriends an old man obsessed with taiyaki
Word count: 2.1k
Genre: tbh, idk? maybe a little wistful? fluff adjacent?
Osamu had never expected this to be a part of his job. Food service, he assumed, entailed just that. He realized early on why the industry is unappreciated. What they serve is a necessity. It’s not the dishes that he painstakingly shapes with his hands; that’s passion. What they provide is humanity, snapshots of hope in an other poignant experience in life.
He sells moments, an experience. It’s the common interactions, the shallow conversations and finer details, that people thrive on. There’s nothing deep to the connections that Osamu makes, just observed minutiae that he puts to good use and sometimes that’s just as appealing as his good food.
“Boss, Grandpa’s on the line.”
The chef’s laugh is facetious. He doesn’t look up from his clipboard, merely holds out an open palm for the phone to drop in.
“Miya Osa–”
“I want my taiyaki!”
“Oh, Jiji,” Osamu glances up at the clock and notes it’s not even noon. He’s rather early for his usual outbursts, “how many times do I have to tell ya? Onigiri. I sell onigiri. I ain’t got taiyaki in here.”
He smiles at the disgruntled noise the old man makes, obscenities muttered all together as if in a single file line. “Beats me how you’re still even open without taiyaki on the menu.”
Osamu sidesteps out of the way of one of his runners with an apologetic nod. They’re just as contrite as he. Jiji’s reputation precedes him and though it’s only Osamu who he gives a hard time, the store phone, one of his first buys from a secondhand shop, is no match for the old man’s tirades.
“Beats me how ya even have this much energy in the morning, Jiji.” He shuts the door to his office behind him and sprawls out onto his desk chair. The back bends and he leans his head against the plush of the seat, mussing his hair to fluff it back up again. “Aren’t ya a hundred years old or something?”
“A hundred years old and probably livelier than you. You sound like a beat up truck on its last legs.”
Osamu shamelessly laughs. It’s true. “I got a bit more mileage on me, Jiji. Ya don’t gotta worry.”
“I’m not.”
“But ya calling a bit early, ain’t ya? Ya crush didn’t show up at the rec center yet?”
The old man literally harumps. Osamu’s never met Jiji, at least not in person, but he can picture his face clearly. Surly, wrinkled, probably with his arms crossed, and that smart, old mouth on him. One of the new kids he’d hired ran to the back, eyebrows drawn and pleading as he explained that there’s an irrational old man on the phone disappointed with his delivery of taiyaki. Quick wit whipped back and forth like watching a tennis match and he’s called ever since.
He welcomes the exchange. Osamu has a certain fondness for foul mouthed creatures, an acquired taste thanks to that twin of his and he likes to think that he’s doing an everyday decency. There’s no harm in entertaining an old guy who probably has no one to talk to. He loses nothing and gains more entertainment than primetime television.
“I told ya,” Osamu teases. “Ya should have been more upfront about it.”
“Hey, watch your mouth, kid. I’m the old man with the experience, here.”
Osamu bounces his foot on the ground so that he may sway back and forth in his seat, “Ah, what’s the advice for today, Jiji?”
He surprised him, the younger one realizes when there’s a lengthy silence on the line. He chooses his answer carefully, wit set on the backburner. It makes Osamu sit up, as if the realization that he is in the presence of a respected elder finally dawns on him, and waits expectantly for the answer.
“What you think about before bed,” he starts slowly as though every word he speaks is fragile, “will be your greatest regrets if they aren’t already.”
Talking to an old man about regrets of all things makes his heart grow heavy. So he turns the conversation around before it can weigh him down. “This about ya crush, Jiji? Come on, don’t lose hope. We can fix this mess.”
Osamu doesn’t think about the old man until later that day when he’s in bed. Alone again, he seriously wonders if the old man is too.
Osamu’s outside of the rec center on his next day off with a satchel across his chest and faded Atsumu merch on his back from his twin’s rookie years. He might have done some innocent sleuthing knowing the old man would never give up his location. Osamu called the rec center and asked for an old man with a clever mouth and obsession with taiyaki. It was easy enough, the reputation of his infamous as the front desk ladies eagerly offered his everyday schedule, probably in hopes that he could take him off their hands just for a moment.
Finding him is even more effortless. Osamu is led to the game room and before the employee points him out, his eyes immediately lock onto an old, crotchety man seated in a chair along the sidelines. He’s burrowed into himself, dour and hunched over a cane as he stares off at everyone else in the room playing their board games with a bitter indifference.
“Jiji!” Osamu calls from the entrance of the room. His head picks up, speculative, a defensive scowl marring his face when it lands on Osamu. The younger man takes it in stride, a beaming grin on his face as he waves at him. “Hey, Jiji, it’s me. Osa–”
“Onigiri man.” He states blandly. Now that he’s closer, though the frown pulls at his worn lips, Osamu witnesses a lively glimmer in his eyes.
He welcomes himself to the seat across from him, “came to visit ya, Old man.”
“You look as dumb as I thought you would,” he observes.
“Now, now, that ain’t something ya should say to someone who finally brought what ya been asking for.” Osamu pulls a paper bag from his satchel and plops it right on the table between them.
He’s hesitant, eyeing it, but there’s a bristling excitement that brews underneath Osamu’s skin and he knows his older counterpart feels the same.
Jiji’s hands play with the handle of his cane, gripping and releasing it. He finally glances up at him, tentative, “taiyaki?”
Osamu slides his butt to the edge of the seat so he can lean back and stretch his legs. This must be what his childhood heroes must feel like. A tightness pulls at his chest, one that reminds him of the power in little things.
He thinks of how Atsumu would blow on his cuts after every fight, careful even though he’s the cause of them. He thinks of his Ma who lights up at a simple phone call. He thinks of this old man in bed, staring at the ceiling with that glimmer in his eyes.
“Ya haven’t stopped going on and on about them. Decided to give ya a reason to finally shut up about it.”
Hands dotted with sun spots reach for the bag and carefully unravel it. He pulls one of the fish shaped snacks out but once out of the bag, his expression immediately sours. Osamu watches, captivated, as Jiji brings it closer to his eyes, as if sight has failed him. He runs his hands along it, takes two sniffs, and finally, he has the courage to take one small nibble.
The old man immediately spits it out and Osamu is bellyover, cackling.
“You precocious brat!” Grandpa lifts his cane up as if to smack him. Osamu holds his hands out in defense, still shaking in amusement.
“Can’t believe ya fell for that, Jiji!” Osamu’s wiping tears from his eyes as the old man growls in his spot, looking at the crisp rice in his hands with enough disdain it could burn even further. “Told ya I sell onigiri.”
“This isn’t onigiri.”
The innovative chef shrugs, “taiyakigiri. Asked the shop next door if I could borrow their maker just so I could prank ya.”
“Boy,” he points a shaky finger but Osamu sees past his bluff. He sees frown lines and reads an inverted smile instead, “you’re even dumber than I thought.”
“Grandpa!”
“Ahh, drats.” He’s back to slumping into himself and Osamu turns around, finding someone his age who is equally weary as they are horrified.
You’re scolding what Osamu believes to be your grandfather the moment he is within earshot. “What are you doing calling strangers dumb?”
“That’s no stranger,” though he’s defiant, he can’t look his grandkid in the eye.
Your gaze turns to him, sizing him up.
“Miya Osa–”
“Onigiri Man.”
You light up immediately at the sound of his pseudonym, “Onigiri Man! Oh wow, I thought my grandpa was going senile when he’d mention you. Did you know you’re this guy’s best friend?”
He heats, the idea of being Jiji’s best friend embarrassing and endearing.
Jiji forcefully pokes your calf with his cane, beckoning you to take the seat beside him. “He’s nothing of the sort. This man tried to feed me rice disguised as taiyaki. I ought to call consumer affairs for this.”
His complaints go unheard when you dive into the bag, admiring Osamu’s handiwork. “Grandpa, you fell for this? That’s hilarious.” Then eyeing Osamu, “good job. Sometimes this guy needs to be knocked down a peg. Speaking of–” You turn back to your elder relative, “what happened to being patient? I told you I’d take you anywhere you want after I finished my work. You’re harder to round up than a herd of cattle.”
“Take a guess who you inherited that from, Kid,” he mutters discreetly but softens the moment you sigh.
“You make me worry, Grandpa. Anything could happen, and you’re all I’ve got left.” Osamu feels like he’s witnessing a private conversation, but his stomach grows heavy at the implication. Osamu, even when born, has never been alone. Loneliness might be plaguing him, but the idea that he has no one to fall back on, well, the idea sounds unbearable.
He drops another bag onto the table and disrupts the tension. “Check inside, Jiji.”
“I don’t trust you.”
You nudge the man, “be nice.”
The old man finally eats taiyaki that day. He breaks rice and bread and shares it with his best friend and grandkid. You spill all of Jiji’s embarrassing secrets like how he’s been requesting onigiri for lunch lately. Osamu talks about his friends and his job and so do you. The two of you are not from here, you having moved because of a job and Jiji following. The old man challenges Osamu to a game of chess and you spectate, witnessing his spectacular loss.
Jiji ends up falling asleep right in his chair with your jacket draped over him. Conversation flows and eventually, Osamu’s realized that he’s spent his only day off at a rec center three wards from his with a crabby old man and his overworked grandkid that likes to laugh at all his jokes.
You walk him out, Jiji left behind, and hand him a piece of paper at the entrance.
He unravels the wrinkled thing and looks up at you in surprise.
“My phone number,” you explain, “just in case. For my Grandpa.”
He nods slowly. Right. For Jiji.
“I think he calls you more than he talks to me.” It’s not an attack, possibly just a jealous observation.
Osamu ruminates for a moment, thinking of the old man and all that he’s inadvertently passed onto him with what Osamu once thought were pointless phone calls.
“That old man’s bored,” Osamu says, eyeing your expression carefully. “He’s looking to run his mouth, not get it run on him. I’m sure at the end of the day when he’s in bed, you’re the one he’s thinking about. Not Onigiri Man.”
Your smile brightens and when Osamu walks home, he thinks of you and the grouchy taiyaki fiend. He thinks of the two of you again when he slides into bed - first your smile and then Jiji’s inverse. He gets up and goes to his hamper. Searching through the pocket of the jeans he wore that day, Osamu finally decides to listen to Jiji in earnest.
He dials your number.
#reina.writeshaikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader
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˗ˏˋ Yandere/Dark fic recs ˎˊ˗
WARNING: minors do not interact!
note: random fandoms, mostly reader/SI/OC stories.
“ao3″
➸ Rotten seeds by cyanspade
Fandom: FE:3H
Pairing: Dimitri/F!Byleth
Consumed by grief over Dimitri’s miserable end at Gronder Field, Byleth musters the last of her power to go back in time to his childhood and prevent the tragedies that befall him all throughout his life.
Unbeknownst to her, Dimitri still has a darkness innate to him—only this time, he’s hell-bent on making his beloved tutor Byleth his and his alone.
➸ At the End of the World by cyanspade
Fandom: FE:3H
Pairing: Dimitri/F!Byleth
After defecting from the Empire, Byleth finds her way to Dimitri’s war council, and later on, his bed. She discovers she’s pregnant with Dimitri’s baby and takes a page from the Jeralt Eisner playbook—she fakes her death and runs away to protect the baby from the threats posed by every side in the war.
Years later, Dimitri finds them.
➸ Defiant by Lovernia
Fandom: MHA/BNHA
Pairing: Aizawa/OC
Kai never fit the idea of how an omega should be - being meek, adorable, and domestic weeded out by those who would readily take advantage of it. How surprising that she’d grown up rude, tenacious, and unbound.
Despite her secondary gender being her one true burden, the source of her lack of choices, the warden of her internal prison, she couldn’t complain about how life turned out for her. She was employed as an express delivery girl, using her Quirk to rival anyone in their line of work, alongside her best friend and under a supervisor who didn’t seem to be fed up with her antics yet.
➸ Birds of a Feather by Elielephant
Fandom: MHA/BNHA
Pairing: Keigo/OC
She was just the typical run-of-the-mill gal that was down on her luck. Though, her life takes a drastic turn when she was almost flattened like a pancake by a semi truck barreling from the sky and saved by the Nation’s No.2 Hero: Hawks. Now she is riddled with misfortune and it’s driving her clearly insane until she figures out who is causing all the pain. Then she is terrified for her life.
➸ Wish by Chickeninthebathtub
Fandom: MHA/BNHA
Pairing: Various/OC
In which the reader has a quirk that allows her to grant everyone's wishes, and izuku takes advantage of that fact.
➸ everything's the same (definition of insane) by Neleothesze
Fandom: Naruto
Pairing: Obito/OC
"Something went wrong when transferring Hotaru's neural impulses into the newest iMind.Mind mapping technology had advanced by leaps and bounds and, yielding to her grandkids' pleas, sixty-four year old Kita Hotaru had finally signed the documents and set a date for the procedure.
On the morning of the 2nd of June, in a small hospital bed, the anesthetic lulled mrs Kita to sleep. The wakeup was far more painful and sudden, a tiny body dropping in the middle of a dirt road.
"Reality isn't a creation of the mind. And yet here she is, sixty-four going on ten, forever young in a world where the young are the first to die.
➸ An Accomplice to Sin by CarnaReade
Fandom: Hellsing
Pairing: Alucard/Reader
What would you do if a monster decides you are the perfect accomplice to uplift his boredom?
➸ Star-Crossed Obsession by Yanderes_and_Other_Poor_Life_Choices
Fandom: Hellsing
Pairing: Alucard/Reader
All magic comes with consequences, and you, a time-travelling witch who accidentally rewrote history while trying to complete a university assignment, will learn that.
➸ the devil’s addiction by ULS
Fandom: Demon Slayer
Pairing: Muzan/Reader
The world you walk on is damned. Not to mention when the moon rises, demons come out. It’s Hell. These creatures out of nowhere hunt for humans, especially rare bloods like yourself. As an acquaintance of suffering, you grow dreaded over their existence, spending your entire life hiding, avoiding them every time the sun disappears from the sky. And during those days of lying low, you tried to save a stranger from being eaten by a demon, and after that, everything changed.
Despite trying to live a quiet life, it led you to a point from saving someone’s life to encountering a young demon with strange letters engraved to one of his eye. A diligent child following orders from his master, who later on is intrigued by your existence. Little did you know, that so-called master, is the progenitor of demons himself.
➸ Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing by lakeffect
Fandom: JJBA
Pairing: Giorno/Reader
Don Giovanna sets his sights on a beloved local school teacher.
➸ Dio Brando Wants a Quiet Life by spaceliquid
Fandom: JJBA
Pairing: Dio/F!Jonathan
All Dio Brando wanted was the world, but he would settle for a quiet life with Joanna Joestar and their son. Maybe.
“quotev”
➸ the martyrdom of a final girl by MAI
Fandom: none
Pairing: various!yandere/reader
Halloween night you're transported into a cult classic slasher film, but unfortunately you can't seem to recall the plot. Your only leverage is that everyone sees you as the dumb best friend to the golden final girl.
➸ steel on glass by dior
Fandom: none
Pairing: figure skater!yandere/reader
You're a world-class classical pianist, and you've been given the task of composing an original piece for the greatest figure skater to ever grace the history of the sport. He's everything the world adores, but the only adoration he seeks is yours.
➸ broken sun by dior
Fandom: none
Pairing: various!cyberpunk/reader
Under the artificial sky of Saturn, you meet the creation of the century. He is the catalyst of annihilation, and you are the legacy of chaos theory, the butterfly effect personified.
➸ Lady Out of Time by fate
Fandom: none
Pairing: yandere/time-traveller!reader
Genius, billionaire, and unbearably bored. As the CEO of L/n Industries, you didn’t think you'd have time to be bored, yet here you are, on a forced vacation because “overworking kills”. A week into your exile, you saw a shooting star and wished for the adventure of a lifetime as a break from your exhausting routine. Unbeknownst to you, a man from nearly 200 years ago had also made a wish on that exact same star. You got your adventure alright, but how will society react to a woman out of time?
➸ No by Goddess Death
Fandom: none
Pairing: mafia!yandere/reader
No. The word is simple, yet powerful. In case of love, in case of rejection, some can accept the ‘no’ word. Unfortunately, some don't. They can't. They won't. That's when hell breaks loose. Human turns to monster. Life gets ruined.
➸ Cutthroat by RainbowsNSmiles
Fandom: none
Pairing: mafia!yandere/reader
“I can’t help it.”
more to come...
#yandere fic recs#yandere x reader#yandere#dimileth#fe3h#bnha x reader#naruto x reader#hellsing x reader#demon slayer x reader#jjba x reader#oc x reader#yandere oc x reader#fic recs
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So I was thinking about what Klug could realistically know about the book demon and its connection to Sig, given that it's so rarely elaborated on, and my conclusion is: more than he wants you to think he does.
Exhibit A: the ending of Fever 2
The first thing that needs to be addressed is the fact that Klug is Right There while Ayashii is monologuing. I guess we don't really know what it's like to be trapped in a book, so there's nothing to suggest either way if he can hear anything... but we do see him look at stuff. Even if he can't hear, he can definitely see, so I think it's reasonable to assume that he'd notice a shift in Aya's demeanor when it sees Sig.
And if he wasn't looking at Aya, then surely he noticed that Sig's hand started glowing and his other eye turned red, right? Hopefully? If he wasn't too busy wallowing in despair, I suppose. Oh, the limits of character portrait-based cutscenes...
He doesn't seem to forget that the possession happened, though. When he's returned to normal, he's not confused about what's going on, he just tries to save face by saying it was all totally according to plan. And while he never brings it up again, I don't think it's ever been strongly implied that he forgot about it - if he did, one would assume that it'd be mentioned in his new Puzzle Pop bio, since it already references the event directly.
So, he likely remembers this, and if he was being observant enough, he could've at least noticed something was up with either Sig or Aya - maybe even both of them.
Exhibit B: Sig's story in 20th Anniversary
So, this part of the theory relies a lot on Klug's line delivery, so I'll include a link to the scene I'm going over. (It's got the timestamp ingrained in the link, but just in case, it starts at 12:49)
youtube
Structurally, this scene is... kind of odd, if you take Klug at face value? He's quick to ramble about everything he knows regarding Sig's arm when prompted, no arguments involved, but then he just. says that he doesn't know what any of it means, and demands a Puyo Battle as compensation for wasting his time.
Like. ???
You mean to tell me that Klug, the guy who's obsessed with gathering knowledge, who prides himself on being the know-it-all who can answer any question thrown at him, would be satisfied with saying he doesn't know something? Yeah, I don't buy it.
Let's go over what he says in more detail, and pay special attention to those line deliveries.
Klug speaks very softly during this whole section, as though he's lost in thought. I want to draw special attention to the line, "in comparison to the book I have here..." It's subtle, but his voice actually wavers a little bit on the last syllable. And he all but whispers the last half of "It's as if it's identical in nature," as if he's talking more to himself than Sig at this point.
He keeps up this vaguely ominous, deep-in-thought tone for the rest of his dialogue, until something very interesting happens.
As he's going on about the Weird Vibes he gets whenever he's around Sig, he seems like he's about to go into more detail... and then Sig makes an innocuous "huh" sound.
Which is exactly when Klug pivots to sharply saying that he has no idea what they are. He doesn't sound irritated or panicked, just... I dunno, comfortably back in his usual, uppity tone.
Suspicious.
Amitie proceeds to theorize that the blue thing that sometimes comes out of Sig's back may have a connection with the red thing in Klug's book, and what do you know, Klug actually stutters when he denies the possibility.
Suspicious.
Awfully bold of Klug to say that there's no way the two things could be connected after he just said that Sig's arm and his book feel like they have the same power, by the way.
This whole exchange reads to me like Klug got carried away with the topic of Sig's arm, and ended up saying a lot more than he planned to. He only snapped out of it when Sig's voice alerted him to what he was doing, and then he started hastily covering up his tracks. He had to dismiss Amitie's theory, not because he genuinely thinks she's wrong, but because he knows she's right.
And for some reason, he can't let them know that.
So I gotta ask. Why? What's he trying to accomplish by covering up what he knows? He likely doesn't even know the full story, so what does he think will happen if other people find out?
Maybe he just doesn't want anyone else learning about the book before he can make its power his own. He is rather possessive of it, continuously renewing it from the library with no intention of ever giving it back. Even with his tendency to blab, I could see him wanting to keep something like this a secret. Not just for the eventual power, but as a special something he knows that nobody else does - anything to boost that sense of superiority, even at risk to himself.
...And maybe, in the depths of his tsundere heart, he's trying to protect Sig a little bit, too. He knows that the demon is dangerous, and probably doesn't want to find out what would happen if Sig started pursuing it for answers. Plus, if he did notice Aya gunning for him back in Fever 2, then all the more reason to be wary.
(I'd still posit the idea of him trying protect himself as his primary motivation, and the only one he'd ever acknowledge, but I'm taking my "Klug cares about his friends" crumbs wherever I can, okay)
Of course, if his ears were working in spirit form, then that suggests he knows way more than I've been assuming, but. I'm not sure his behavior really matches up with that idea? He sounds like he's genuinely speculating about Sig and the book here, which would be a little weird if he heard it point and shout "AYO THAT'S MY DESCENDANT AND/OR TRUE FORM. GIMME"
...not that Sig himself seemed to hear that either, but that's besides the point
#puyo puyo#puyo puyo 20th anniversary#puyo puyo fever 2#klug puyo puyo#strange klug#sig puyo puyo#analysis#theory#meta#spoilers for slimes#New theory question: why does nobody ever seem to hear the important parts of what Ayashii says skldmfsklm
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