#designated ugly fat friend

[lexxwithbooks]

📖: 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝑼𝑭𝑭 (𝐻𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ #1) 📚🪨💘

✍🏽: 𝐊𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

[squirms-mckenzie]

I am just so tired of every person my friends find attractive looking the same. And then they tell me I'm hot and I'm like "I have literally never seen you praise another body that looks anything like mine but okay"

It's really fun feeling like the DUFF.

Really need more of you to start asking yourself the question "are they hot or are they just thin, white, and tattooed"

[spiritmoon23]

I feel like we hopped onto the bad fetishization train for fat people a little too fast ykwim

Like maybe I want to be seen as the object of sexual desire for once idk

[ayeyolooo]

The duff

You walked through the hallway with your two bestfriends. They were so pretty that everyone only paid attention to them."Hey mikasa! Sasha!" Everyone said as they passed by. You just kept walking. It hadn't got you because you really could care less. You know what you looked like at home.

"Okay guys I'm going to chemistry I'll speak to you later." You pecked the both of them on the cheek as they did the same to you. "Okay see you later y/n!" Sasha said waving. You just smiled and waved back. You walked into your class. Armin connie and eren all sat at one table. The three of them were your neighbors,they were so rude and obnoxious. Even through you grew up with them they all found ways to piss you the fuck off.

"Ohhh there's y/nnnn." Armin said looking at you. "Ayo l/n come here." Eren called out. You just ignored him and made your way to your desk. You placed your bookbag on the seat next to you since no one was sitting there.

"Okay you guys,please continue your labs,please put your goggles on." The teacher sat down at his desk. You placed your goggles on before you leaned forward to see your project better. You dropped the little tabs into each of the liquids that sat on your desk. You seen the reactions and you recorded them. As you were writing Connie made his way over to your table.

"Oh y/nnnnnnnn." He whispered. "Get the fuck out of my face ugly bitch." You mean mugged him. "Oh come onnn don't act like that." His green brownish eyes looked at you as his tatted hand went to your tickle spot and he stated tickling you.

You moved your body to stop him. you slapped him in the face. "Move bitch." You said in a laugh. "Mr.springer please have a seat." Your teacher said. "My bad." He said. He smiled and licked his lips before he went to go and sit back down.

———-

Class was over with. The bell rang as everyone began to pack up. You stood up and you placed your folders and journals in your bookbag. "Mr.springer,mr.alert and mr.Yeager." The teacher called out their names.

"Yes?" Armin asked. "If you all get another f in my class you will have to repeat the course." The teacher said. "So me and mr. Longhorn has decided to suspend you three from the football team until you all pull your grades up. And you mr.alert im very surprised that you aren't passing your work." The teacher turned around and walked back to his seat.

You made a face like '😬' before you made your way out the door. The boys began to talk behind you as you walked to your locker. You opened it and placed all of your books in it that you didn't need.

"If it isn't the duff of her friend group." Eren said wrapping his arms around you. You shrugged it off. "The fuck Is a duff??" You turned around and looked at all three of them.

"You don't know what a duff is??" Armin's eyes widened. "If I did I wouldn't have asked dickhead."

"The duff stands for the designated ugly fat friend." Connie said. Your heart dropped. "I'm sorry what?" You placed your hand up to your ear.

"It stands for the designated ugly fat friend.." Eren replied. "That's why y'all's asses are failing chemistry and I hope yall gotta retake that shit too." You said walking to your class. "Wait y/n." All three of them said.

"It doesn't mean like your ugly or anything it stands for like I'm the less hot friend in the friend group that's all." You just looked at them. "I'm telling ms springer mr.Alert and Carla that y'all are failing chemistry and they gone beat y'all's asses." You folded your arms. They stood on the side of you.

"Aight now y/n you pushing it." You just mean mugged them. "Y'all leave me the fuck alone." You sped up. But armin gently grabbed your shoulder. "Okay how about you help us with chemistry and we'll help you look less like a duff?" Armin asked. You just looked at him.

"Unt unt get somebody else to do it." You said

[threepandas]

Bad End: Soldier A

I'm pretty sure you know the story. Everybody does. Chosen Hero, Demon King, they fight, save the day, yada yada. Everybody supposedly lives happily ever after. Everything sunshine and roses. Puppies and farting rainbows. But... but it's NOT.

It's really fucking NOT.

I used to love reading stories like that. They were escapism. Grand adventures in a terrible, grey, slowly crushing hellscape of a world. But... but, FUCK. At least there weren't drauger! No demon wolves or skeleton soldiers! Or the FUCKING little flying bastards. God. I HATE those ones the most.

They have sharp, needle-y little claws and teeth like a SHARK fucked a TREE THRESHER. And they scream. Just... yowl and yowl in this ear splitting high pitch like they're trying to DEAFEN you ON TOP of trying to rip you apart.

That life was peaceful.

I was a fool to wish for anything else.

I am not the Chosen One. I'm not even a supporting character. I remember this bullshit little yarn, and I? Am NO WHERE fucking in it. I am just... just some rando, in this struggle of demons and Gods. The child of Some Dude. We... we had chickens. Fat, happy, lil hens.

I remember being ENTRANCED. I had lived all my life, before, in suburban sprawl. So chickens? Strutting around and chasing bugs? Tiny me was hypnotized.

It saved my life.

I half wish it didn't, some days.

That I died, sudden and without the chance to truely comprehend, along side my family. That my neighbors eldest hadn't seen me by the coop. Grabbed me desperately as he ran for his life. Our entire FUCKING village...

There were six survivors.

I was one of them.

And it's... it's all just? FLAVOR TEXT for the Chosen One's tale of Glory. A reason for why she's so NEEDED. So BELOVED. Look how AWESOME she is! Saintess, because when are they NOT? Hero, because it's all about HER. A god damned LOVE STORY thrown in, because THAT'S important, while people are suffering! Dying!

Are? You? KIDDING ME!?

Legends speak of a "Hero's Party". I know damn well it's true. That it WILL succeed. But FUCK that. FUCK waiting for her to "be ready"! To gather allies and turn from some sheltered little rose, into the warrior we ACTUALLY NEED. It's my world too. I was the one who had to help dig out survivors! Tend to the wounded! Fight off swarms! Hold back the dead!

I...! I was the one who had to LOOK PEOPLE IN THE EYE and... AND-!

B-Because sometimes? SOMETIMES?! Those bites DON'T HEAL. Can't heal! They are filled with so much demonic power, that the only thing they CAN do is corrupt. Fester. Poison. Sometimes you're already DEAD and nothing short of the oh so precious SAINTESS could possibly save you.

But she's not HERE... is she?

So you have a choice.

If you're lucky? It's JUST a limb. A chunk of flesh. But more often then not... well... The lucky ones have time to say goodbye. The unlucky ones get to be twisted and used against their friends. Their family's. And if you care. If you CARE AT ALL? You put them down before that happens.

Because they wouldn't want that.

It... it feeds a HATE in me. An ANGER.

No, that's not right... it's more like? It feeds...

A RAGE.

An ugly, burning thing. That's hollowed out my chest. Wrapped around my bones. Fueled by the memories of every innocent I failed to save. By the fear and the suffering, that just keeps dragging on and on and ON. An endless slog that seems designed to break men down. Destroy us.

I feel like it's killing the humanity in me. The kindness I once had. Like I am burning away everything but purpose. And will have nothing left when I am done. IF I am ever done. It... it used to scare me.

Now I am to angry, too tired, to be afraid.

Let me die. I do not CARE. So long as I TAKE THEM WITH ME. Burn them ALL. My brothers in arms, my sisters of war, those that fight and fight and FIGHT? They feel the same. We didn't fucking WAIT. Refused to watch the slaughter. Gaining ground only to lose it, losing ground only to claw it back.

Holding the line.

We can't actually KILL him. We know that. Only the Saintess can actually fucking END this nightmare. But his monsters? Those still fall too steel. And if we are to die regardless, why NOT in defense of our homes?

We've managed to push a path, deep into the Demonic lands. A spear point to stab the heart of HIS damned empire. We... we can hold it. MUST hold it. At all costs. For that flimsy, weak willed, half trained NITWIT of a child. So when she FINALLY gets off her ass and stops making goo-goo eyes at her trainers? She can come and finish the job.

Then get crowned queen of forever or something.

I don't know, I don't CARE. I'm going to buy some damn chickens. Fill a yard with them. Honor my parents and be the best damn farmer this world has ever SEEN.

Another crash against our shields. Screams as someone's arm breaks. As someone else is savaged through a crack in our barrier, as something probably gives. I slam my spear forward. Vital point. Vital point. Ignore the strain. The way your arm feels like a giant is stepping on it. Like some is trying to rip the shield from your grip. Hold... HOOOOLD!

Go for the eyes. Aim for the throat. Kidneys. Arteries, arteries, heart! The spear is wretched from my grip. I shout for another. Reach blindly, trusting my countrymen. I feel the grip of another one pressed into my hand. I slam my spear forward.

The fight goes on.

For hours.

It was some sort of ape-bear chimera things this time. But bigger and with spikes. No ones quite sure if they're in the "fucked up monstrosities" book yet. I'M certainly too dead on my feet to check. I sit an eat some fucking soup. Mmmmm, rations soup. Technically edible! My favorite flavor.

In the distance, sits the Demon King's fancy ass doom castle.

Any closer? And HE might be inspired to actually "deal" with us. I can't wait for the day it-An explosion of noise from the command tent. Everyone's heads whip around to stare, alarmed. But... but that didn't sound... BAD shouting. It takes us a long, long moment. It had honestly been YEARS since some of us had HEARD such a noise. But...?

W...was that?

Excitement?

I passed off my soup to a newbie. He honestly needed it more anyway. Told him to eat. Then got up and headed for command. Something was happening. As I got close, the flap was all but ripped open. A commander, actually? Smiling!? What the fresh hell?

A commander looking for someone. Spots me. Waves me over and in. I jog over. The tent is practically HUMMING with excitement. And there, on the tabke with the war map? Is an old, OLD dagger. Very... magical girl, in design. Flourishes, sparkling, and lovely dispite being what must be... what, centuries old? Worn to hell and back? What IS that?

It's the weapon of a previous Chosen One.

A Holy Blade.

Holy Shit. HOW. Where?! Where AND HOW!? I thought the royal family snapped all those fuckers up too show off! If not them, the Temple! I'm met with seni-hysterical laughs of disbelief.

A PRIEST stole it.

Nearly DIED doing so. Temple's probably FURIOUS. Gonna come to get it BACK, most likely. We're gonna have to move FAST. We're gonna only get ONE chance at this. I nod. Ready for whatever command needs me to do. Hold off some holy knights? Punch a priest? I'll get... SUPER excommunicated, but? Fuck it. If it saves lives.

No.

No they need me to wield the blade. I'm sorry?? WHAT.

It's apparently Maiden Locked. Fucking... Maidens Only! Got lucky? No holy weapon for you! Married but a virgin? Weaponless! Oh, fffffuck yooooou, creepy perv deities. There are LIVES ON THE LINE, in this, a GOD DAMNED WAR, and you LOCK the import weapons behind "mint condition pu-"!!!

The commander cuts of my, frankly, VERY understandable rant.

Hands on my shoulders. Looks me in the eyes. Will I Do This? I would have to take the knife and sneak behind enemy lines. Into the demon kings castle. And try to get the jump on him. NO ONE would be able to go after me. Help WOULD NOT be coming. If I fail... that's it. Game over. The demons would have me.

I laugh.

It is... not a cheerful sound. Not like it once was.

Is it even a choice? Of course I am. Frankly? I hope it hurts. I hope it's slow. Hurts every second and feels like eons. That he BURNS from the inside out. I'm gonna make him EAT IT.

Waiting until night would be suicide. They get stronger at night. Can blend in to the shadows. But they're cocky. They won't expect an attack just before that. So twilight is when I'll strike. Afternoon, when I head out. I... I leave my gear behind. Say my goodbyes.

I'm not the Chosen One.

Just some farmer's daughter with a grudge.

It don't think I'll be making it back. Don't really expect to even succeed. But by the gods... I plan to HURT him. Every piece we chip away, is one the soul behind us doesn't have to fight. I do this not for me. But for the child who will never know the FEAR that I did.

I will die so they don't have too.

The castle is dark. Humming with power I can FEEL but can not understand. Grand and sweeping architecture. Great windows that should let in far more light then they do. A blood red carpet upon bone white floors. The walls are black. It... some how merely stepping inside, seems to suck all color but red from the world. All heat.

I see no one here.

But I hear whispers.

I tighten my grip around the weapon. The only thing that feels WARM. These hallways are designed to make you feel small, I can tell at a glance. I refuse to give in. I am a farmer. A soldier. I do not CARE about your damn castle! I dig deep into my memories, keeping to the walls, and try to remember where the hero found her foe.

I trace the path in my head. Cut out the lost wandering as best I can. Right slightly, then forward, I think. If I am wrong, I can double back. Follow the book's path exactly. I move slow. As quite as I can.

Still... I find no one.

No servants, no gaurds, no resistance of any kind. Something like fear sighs like a specter down my spine, cold and vague. Something is not right. I do not let down my gaurd... but the longer it persists? The worse my paranoia grows.

Finally. The throne room. Magnificent beyond measure, in blood red and monochrome. Rare touches of gold glint and catch the eye. Stained glass giving it all a surreal scene from high above. The runner at my feet plush enough to render my foot steps silent. It is red... so very, very red.

The Demon King leans against one fist, resting on his throne, magnificent and beautiful like a statue brought to life. Carved of pale ivory and obsidian. Just as feeling as stone. A monster. Living testament that what's inside counts most of all. For inside him? Is nothing but a void. A malicious PIT.

I will see him dead.

On silent feet, I sneak forward. Only to freeze at the foot of the stairs to his dais, my eyes locked on his face. Horror seeps through me.

An amused smirk.

"Oh don't stop NOW, you're so close." Breaks the silence. Golden eyes open, lazy and entertained. "By all means. Try."

My grip on the dagger felt almost painful, for how hard I was gripping it. He... he wasn't even bothering to move. Didn't even see me as a threat. F..Fine. Fine then! If it was a mistake on his part or NOT, I would TAKE IT. Any chance. Any chance at ALL.

The pressure of that gaze felt immense. But I tilted my head up, put my shoulders back, and moved. One step. Then another. Up the stairs. Onto the dais. Forward, slowly. I paused, just beyond his immediate reach. Not that it was anything like real safety. I stared. Shaking. Knowing I was shaking and unable to stop.

He sat splayed. Reclined and leaning against his fist, robes rich and arranged just so. The very picture of indolent decadence. It was deceptive. I KNEW it was. A trap. But to get too him... I had to step closer. My eyes moved from the splay of his legs back up to his face. His smirk had grown teeth. I... I refused to run. I would finish this.

I stepped forward. Between his long legs, feeling distinctly like I was balanced over a bear trap, and lifted the dagger. I refused to hesitate. Wait to see if he changed his mind. I slammed it forward. Right through his heart. Glaring, as I looked him right in the eyes. The blade HISSED. Like acid meeting stone.

He laughed.

Grin full of unhinged glee, a vice in the shape of a hand clamped around my wrist, and the world SPUN. I slammed against the floor, the Demon King straddling me, at the foot of his thrown. He loomed. Behind him, above me, shown a magnificent window the lit him from behind. Like a halo.

"You didn't even HESITATE. You'd rip my heart out, if you could. Wouldn't you?" He says. Almost an whisper, nearly a groan, filthy with something that terrifies me and shouldn't BE there. "I KNEW I sensed something. KNEW you were out there."

I desperately try to push the knife deeper. Use everything I can to... to just-!

All I want... All I NEED? Is to see it come out the fucking OTHER SIDE. Please. Gods, PLEASE! End this! I'm gritting my teeth. Snarling. This BASTARD. I HATE him! I HATE HIM!

"Ah~ That's it, little one." He groans. Not even bothering to hide that he's apparently getting off on this. I'll kill him. I'll FUCKING KILL HIM! "Good~, that's right. Just like that. Give IN~♡ I'll take SUCH good care of you. I've always wanted a little pet. Focus it all on me. Give it ALL to me~"

My brain feels like it's on fire. My lungs filled with ash and flame. I hate. I hate and hate and HATE! I can't think. Something is... wrong? Wrong! The blade hurts to hold. Like it's rejecting me. No. NO! I HAVE TO KILL HIM! I may not be the Chosen One but-!

It finally becomes too much. The pain of holding the blade out weighing my hate. It's like ACID. My hand spasming away like I was trying to touch a hot stove. My palm is an ugly red. Wounded.

In one fluid movement, my wrist is released, the blade pulled free, tossed aside, and my wrist recaptured, before I can claw his fucking eyes out. I grit my teeth. Fangs grinding togeth-... wait.... what?

I stare at my hand.

At the black talon like nails where normal nails were, just this morning. And feel... horror. My... my teeth feel weird. My eyes hurt. Sides of my head too.

"Got you~"

He throws his head back in a triumphant laugh. The sound echoing like a nightmare. Even as I watch, the pigment of my skin is changing. Draining away to something even. Something almost too pale. Unnatural.

"I'm so glad you've decided to join me, darling." My hands are slammed down on either side of my head. His face inches from my. Eyes burning with something terrible. "I haven't had a bride in SO long~ following your progress has been FASCINATING. And now! Oh little thing, I get to KEEP you all to myself. Make you GOOD for me. Learn every inch of you. You should be excited, darling~"

"I'm going to make you a Queen."

[lizardboiii]

XOXO, UR DUFF♡

꒰ ft. Kuroo Tetsurō x reader x Bokuto Kōtarō, slight Oikawa Tōru x reader

synopsis: finding out Aoba Johsai High School's volleyball team refers to you as the school's duff sends you into a teenaged panic. your two childhood friends take it upon themselves to help you out. the opposite of a duff? a slut.

cw: NSFW, 18+, hurt/comfort, threesome, dom/sub undertones, dumbification, slut shaming, non-con coercion, double pentration, all characters are represented as 18/19 yrs old

wc: 2.7k

"Like any unloved thing, I don't know if I'm real when I'm not being touched." - Natalie Wee

Maybe you soared too high - beared your teeth too wide. The fall from grace was longer than the climb, allowing scotching shame to burn away any feelings you still carried. Oikawa Tōru had played you for a fool. 

Otherwise, after a week of walking you to class and buttering up your fragile heart. He wouldn't have asked you if your best friend, Emi, was single. 

Propping himself up on your desk, Oikawa’s thick hands supported the bulk of his weight. His form seemingly dripped with unease. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the sound of his sneakers shifting beneath him. 

You hated every moment of it.

The star volleyball captain had just made it clear he never had any intentions of courting you. All he saw was a gateway to Emi. An easy in.

You paused for just a moment. Thoughts of confronting the man above you ate at your skin. You wanted to scream. Rage at him. Ask him why he led you on. He could have easily asked out Emi without your assistance. Was there a reason to ask you other than to be cruel?

But you didn't. 

Instead you smiled warmly, swallowing your pride, “Ya, Emi’s single.”

Oikawa’s grin brightened, “You can put in a good word for me right? Since we're friends n’ all?”

The corner of your mouth twitched.

“Of course.”

・❥・

A kick to the front leg of your desk rattled the metal. You flinched at the noise. Body tensing, you refused to greet the offender. Finding it easier to stay hidden in your arms on top of your desk.

“What’s up with you?”

Teary eyed, you finally looked up from your crossed arms to the deep voice above you, Iwaizumi Hajime. You internally groaned at the sight of him. Iwaizumi was the last person you wanted to see right now, aside from his flamboyant captain.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I think Oikawa likes Emi.”

Iwaizumi huffed, “I ​​could've guessed that.”

“What?” You searched his eyes for an answer, “You knew?”

“Ya,” He rubbed the back of his neck, “Whole team does.”

Clenching your teeth, you balled your hands in frustration, “Then why did he even bother talking to me? He should've just went straight to her!”

Iwaizumi shrugged, “It's probably because you're her Duff.”

You felt the pit in your stomach drop, “Her what?”

“Ya know, her Duff. Designated Ugly Fat Friend,” he said it as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

The information hit you like a truck, “Excuse me!? I am not her “Duff”!”

Iwaizumi shifted uncomfortably, “Hate to break it to you, but…I think everyone is aware you’re Emi’s Duff other than yourself.” 

You fake laughed, “I think I'd know if people were calling me that.”

“It's not that big a deal. Just means you're more approachable,” he searched for his next words, “I mean it's easier to ask you if Emi’s single rather than face the embarrassment if not.”

Iwaizumi’s statement left you breathless, “Face the embarrassment? What about me!? Oikawa led me on for a week just to ask if Emi was single!”

He brushed you off, “It’s not like you're the only one. Girls come up to the team all the time to ask about Oikawa.”

Seething, you stood up from your chair haphazardly, “You know what? Screw you!” The screech of your chair echoed across the room, “I’m not just some thoughtless NCP you guys can use to help get laid!”

Iwaizumi frowned, “You know I didn't mean it like that.”

You didn't bother to respond, favoring to storm out of the mostly empty classroom. You’d prove to them all you could be more than just Emi’s Duff. You just needed to figure out how to first.

・❥・

“Can you believe he said that to me?!” Sitting on top of Bokuto’s bed, you straddled the pillow you were holding in anger, “I am not a Duff!”

Bokuto hummed below you, focusing more on the controller in his hand rather than what you were saying, “Didn’tcha only go on one date?”

Cackling, Kuroo bumped shoulders with Bokuto, “There wasn’t even a date. He just walked her tah’ class.”

Your face burned, “He carried my books! Who does that other than someone who cares!?”

Kuroo tilted his face back at you, resting his head on the bed, “Yer’ joking, right?”

Frowning, you swiped at Kuroo’s face with the pillow in your hands. The comb head merely caught the pancaked pillow with his dominant hand, ripping the fabric away from you. Then, he shot the pillow at your head, hard. You reacted quickly, lifting your hands up in defense. The pillow thumped pathetically against your forearms. 

Flipping him off, you tossed the pillow back at the headboard, “You always play too rough!”

A wild grin plastered itself on his face, “What? I thought girls liked it rough?”

You threw him a disgusted look, “Don’t be a freak.”

Chuckling, Kuroo’s already large smile grew impossibly wider. Clearly satisfied at your obvious discomfort.

Groaning at Kuroo’s smug smirk, you flopped backward on the bed, “It’s not fair! Emi always has a boyfriend and I’ve yet to have even one.” You emphasized the number with your finger.

Passing off the controller, Bokuto stretched his hands above his head, “Who cares? Ya don’t need a boyfriend anyways,” He pointed a thumb at himself, “You got us!”

“Says you! Both you and Ku have had girlfriends,” You flipped onto your stomach, “I feel like I'm missing out.”

Lip curled, Bokuto threw himself on top of the bed and grabbed your smaller form, “Aww, our poor sweet (y/n)!”

You wrestled against his tight bear hug, “Lemme’ go, Airhead!”

Bokuto smiled, “Never!”

Your legs intertwined as you tried to slither free from Bokuto’s relentless hold. However, the older male easily subdued you. Pushing and pulling you every which way. Eventually, Bokuto relented and slid you into his lab, wrapping his arms around your midriff. 

You huffed at his antics. It wasn't the first time Bokuto forced you into his lab - and you were sure it wasn't the last. Yet, that didn't stop the way your heart squeezed when his chest pressed up against your back. Or the way you shivered when he slotted his head into the crook of your neck.

It certainly didn't stop the way you secretly liked how Kuroo watched.

Face burning, you chewed on your lip. You were sick. Friends shouldn't be thinking this way about each other. Especially not when you have known eachother since diapers. You internally sighed. It's not like they'd be interested in you anyways. Who’d want to be with a designated Duff?

“Sometimes I wish I was more like Emi...”

The thought slipped out of your mouth without your brain's approval. Meek and mild. Your quiet voice sent the room into an abrupt silence. You had little time to curse at yourself before Kuroo’s uncontrollable laughter broke through the stillness. 

Dropping the gaming controller, Kuroo moved calculatedly. His toned body slowly crawling its way on top of the bed, joining you and Bokuto. Your breath hitched at the sight. If you didn't know any better, you thought you might be eaten alive.

Kuroo reached you at an agonizing pace. His hands moved to rest on your knees while Bokuto’s stayed on your waist, “Ya wanna’ be like Emi, huh?”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you ignored the close proximity, “She always gets so much attention. I just wanna know what that feels like. Just once.”

Sulking, you missed the subtle glance Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged. Sly and cunning. The grip of their calloused hands tightened ever so slightly.

“Ya know why Emi keeps gettin’ so much attention?” 

Sinking back into Bokuto, you swallowed, “Because she's pretty?”

“Nope,” Kuroo’s grin widened as he slotted himself between your legs, “It’s ‘cause she’s a slut.”

Slut.

The word made your heart pang, “E-Emi’s not like that!”

Kuroo let out a scoff, “Course’ she is. You wanna be like that? A slut?”

Squirming, you tried to remove Kuroo from in between your legs. An action proving to be difficult very quickly, “No! I just don’t wanna be the school’s Duff anymore!”

Unimpressed, Kuroo’s large hands hooked under your knees and wrapped your legs around his waist. You only struggled harder. The thought of being trapped between the two large men was starting to make your head spin. 

Writhing in Bokuto’s hold, you halted when he groaned softly in your ear, “...Bo?”

“Look at that, Kitten,” Kuroo kneaded the fat of your thigh, “Already practicing.”

Bokuto buried his face deeper into your neck, nipping at the skin, “Ya wanna practice that bad, sweetheart?”

“I think she does, Bo,” Kuroo laughed cruelly, “Just look at her. Gettin’ ya hard already.”

Bokuto whined, “Can’t help it. She keeps rubbin’ that plump ass against my dick.”

On que, Bokuto’s hands shifted from your waist to your hips. His thick digits dug into your skin as he began to move your hips for you. Grinding his half hard cock into your clothed ass.

Your face was a molten red at the action, “Stop!”

“Please, sweetheart. Feels so good,” Bokuto’s words slurred as he grinded your bodies together.

You mewled, “We can’t!”

Kuroo snatched you chin, forcing your attention back on him, “Thought you were tired of bein’ the Duff?”

You could feel the beginnings of tears brimming your eyes, “I am!”

He smiled sickly sweet, “How are you gonna prove um’ wrong if ya can’t even do this?”

Swallowing thickly, your lips quivered, “I’m scared.”

Kuroo bore a mocking expression, “Sluts don’t get scared.”

Your whimper was cut off by Kuroo’s plump lips. The kiss was sloppy, desperate even. Kuroo’s tongue exploring your mouth like he owned it. Immediately, his hand found its way into your hair, tugging you further into the kiss. You cried against his mouth. Clutching at his wrist, you held on as he devoured you. 

Below you Bokuto shifted. His hand plunged its way into his sweats, pulling out his weeping cock, “Ku, lemme’ lift her up.”

Kuroo pulled away from your mouth, a string of saliva following in suit, “So impatient you owl bastard.”

You had little time to gasp for air as Bokuto’s hands replaced Kuroo’s. His hands wrapped under the pits of your knees swifty. Lifting up your legs, you gasped when his exposed cock made contact with your thin shorts. 

“Bo, wait!”

Bokuto ignored your small pleas. Sliding his cock against the fabric, he traced the shape of your pussy, “Sweetheart, you’ll lemme’ put it in, right?”

You squeaked when he tried to push up, the fabric of your shorts keeping him out, “You can’t go in raw!”

Bokuto groaned when Kuroo clutched his length, rubbing him harder against your slowly dampening shorts. You whined at the attention. Your hole clenching everytime Kuroo massaged your clit with the head of Bokuto’s cock.

Kuroo purred, “Ya feel that, Kitten? See how good yer makin’ Bo feel?

A sobbed rocked through your chest, “No.”

Clicking his tongue, Kuroo pulled at the hem of your shorts, “Still playin’ difficult, slut?”

You suddenly regretted wearing such short shorts. Kuroo managed to pull them off you in record time, only readjusting Bokuto’s hold on you once. As quickly as the shorts were off - Bokuto was on you.

The head of his cock slid against your folds with an obscene sound, “Please lemme’ put it in, sweetheart. Please, please.” You could feel his hips snap against your ass every time he slid up and down your pussy.

The cord in your stomach slowly began to pull. The feeling of his cock rubbing against your clit was almost enough to send you over the edge. You wanted more. No. You needed more.

Whimpering, your breath hitched as his cock prodded your entrance, “Bo, please!”

“Ya hear that, Bo?” You could hear the smirk on Kuroo’s face, “Slut needs a fat cock to fill ‘er up.”

Growling, Bokuto wasted no time before shoving his cock into your entrance. You cried out at the intrusion. Unprepared, your tight hole stretched painfully around his cock. It felt as if he had split you in two.

Kuroo hushed your cries, “Poor, Kitten. I’ll make it better.” His fingers made their way to your dripping pussy, circling your neglected clit.

“Ku!” You moaned at the touch. The burning sensation in your torn hole was slowly replaced by dull pleasure.

“So tight for me, Sweetheart,” Bokuto slowly pulled out before slamming back in, “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You shuddered at his words, “Too much!”

Sucking on your neck, Bokuto groaned, “Just gettin’ started.”

You flinched when Kuroo’s fingers traced down from your clit to your entrance. His caloused pointer nudged at your puffy hole.

“Look how much yer’ stretchin’ her, Bo,” He slowly added a finger to your already stuffed entrance, “Bet we can stretch it further.”

You sobbed at the invasion, “It won’t fit!”

Kuroo’s darkened eyes made you squirm, “We’ll make it fit.”

One finger soon turned into three as Kuroo worked your already sore pussy open. You wailed loudly. Finally, the feeling of fingers leaving your hole made you sign in relief. The full feeling in your stomach slightly dissipating. 

Until you felt something much larger.

Kuroo placed his hand on your waist as he lined the head of his cock against your hole. You tensed at the sight. Bokuto hissed in your ear, surprised by the sudden clench of your pussy.

“Loosen up, Sweetheart,” Bokuto kissed the crown of your head

A small mewl escaped your lips, “There's no way!”

The men above you rubbed small circles into your skin, attempting to relax your tensed muscles. You moaned at the affection. Body loosening, you shoved your face into Kuroo’s chest as he pushed in.

“There we go, Sweetheart. So good fer' us,” Bokuto hummed against the back of your neck.

The initial stretch of your walls burned intensely. Even with prep, you still felt like you’d tear up the middle.

 “So full,” you mumbled incoherently. Unable to focus on anything other than the cocks filling your already bullied hole.

“Gonna start movin’, kay?” Kuroo’s cock bottomed out before you could even respond. 

They moved opposite of eachother. Bokuto’s cock slamming deep into your pussy while Kuroo’s dragged out of your weeping hole painfully slow. It was enough to drive you insane. You moaned shamelessly, far too drunk on cock to care how slutty you looked.

“Yer’ takin’ us so well, kitten,” Kuroo bit into your neck, leaving a trail of marks, “Like you were made for this.”

You quivered under his touch, “Want more, please.”

Bokuto’s hands slithered under your shirt, “Ya already want more?” His hands moved to unclasp your bra, “Such a slut.”

You bit your lip as Bokuto found his way to your sensitive buds, “Yes, sir.”

“Sir?” Bokuto licked up your neck, “Ya hear that, Ku? She really was meant tah’ be a slut.”

You could barely comprehend Kuroo’s response. Your ears felt like they were filled with cotton as the pressure in your stomach increased. Instinctively, your hips jerked against their movements. You were so close.

“Need tah’ cum, Kitten?” Kuroo fisted your hair, “Ya gotta ask nicely.”

Hot tears streamed down your face at the unreleased pressure in your abdomen, “Please let me cum, sir. Please, I wanna cum so bad.”

Kuroo traced his tongue up your cheek, savoring the salty taste, “Whaddya’ think, Bo? Should the slut be allowed to cum?”

Bokuto traced his fingers from your breast to your clit, “Maybe just this once.”

The chord in your stomach snapped as soon as you were granted permission. Head thrown back, a porn star moan fell from your lips. Your vision went white with pleasure. Long and intense, you trembled in Bokuto’s hold. 

Your chest heaved as your legs gave out, yet Kuroo and Bokuto remained relentless. Continuing their abuse on your sloppy pussy, they pushed you further over the edge.

You whined in overstimulation, “No more.”

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Bokuto ran his fingers through your hair, “We ain't done yet.”

Your eyes widened, “W-what?”

Kuroo smirked, “We haven't cum yet, Slut.”

・❥・

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: *melts into goo* I swear the vibes I get from this story and where I can go with it are a mix of Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman" and "I Didn't Change My Number" but Billie Eilish lol That lost song is actually where I got the title because I saw a TikTok where some did the Steddie AI followed by the lyrics "Take it out on you...and your best friend to."

So this is set in the 80s and I chose to make the reader plus size because I haven't done it before with these two and because we plus sized babes are sexy bitches ;). (All you souls, no matter your size are beautiful. Never forget that <3)

Warnings: Dominate Steddie and Sub Reader, she's not a virgin but she's definitely new to this. Everything in this story is consensual! Even though they are rough with her they do come up with a safe word and tell her she can stop if she wants (and they would! I would never write a version of these boys who wouldn't.)

There is degrading (mostly about how the reader wants to be used), spanking, choking... rough smut for sure but followed with aftercare.

Word Count: 3953

This wasn’t normal for you. You never got in trouble at school but today was just one of those days. Carol was picking on you again because of your appearance. Every day it was something different. Your hair looked flat, your clothes were hideous, or something you were reading at the lunch table made you “a dork”. 

Today, it was how fat your ass looked in your jeans. You slammed your locker shut as you turned to face her. “At least I have an ass, you ugly bitch!”

“Y/N Y/L/N!”, Ms. O’Donnell scolded. You hadn’t even noticed she was there. She sent you to the principal’s office where he gave you a week’s worth of detention after school. 

You were surprised when you entered the designated classroom to find it empty except for the teacher in charge. 

“Ah Miss Y/N, I presume. In for offensive language and bullying a fellow student. Come in and have a seat. I’m waiting on two more.” 

You flash him a soft smile as you slide into the desk in the front corner. The door opens again and fear dances through your eyes as Steve Harrington saunters in and throws himself down in a desk in the middle of the room. 

“Our very own basketball and swim star himself, Steven Harrington. Currently in detention today fooooor…”, the teacher looks at the papers in front of him. “Being caught in the girl’s bathroom. Huh. Did you get lost?”

Before he could respond, the final student entered loudly swinging the door open as he flew in. “Hey! Mr. C! How are we this fine afternoon?”

“Mr. Eddie Munson. Always a pleasure, sir. What are we in for today?”

“I may or may not have caused a disruption in the lunchroom today.”

“Mhmm. Well, since everyone is here, we can start. Detention begins at 5pm sharp and if you aren’t here on time, I do get to tell the principal who will do with you as he will.”

“Sounds sexy.”, the metalhead grins as he sits on top of a desk and crosses his legs. 

“Mr. Munson, I know you’ve heard this many, MANY times but for the new prisoners can you please…shut up.” The boy salutes him as the teacher continues. “The majority of the time, you guys will be here, SILENTLY, doing homework or reading, I really don’t care. Just be quiet. Depending on what is going on that day this week we may help out with things. The theater kids have a play on Friday and need help with the sets. As I’m sure Mr. Harrington knows, there’s also a game so the pep squad may need stuff set up.”

“Other than that, let’s just shut up and get through the week, okay?”

The first twenty minutes go by extremely slow as you try to focus on the homework in front of you. After a while, you felt someone watching, turning your head to see Steve staring at you. Something in those admittedly gorgeous brown irises sent a tingle through your body. It felt like he was trying to read you with the little information he had in front of him. 

You jumped as a loud beeping echoed through the room and a small devious smile spread across his face. 

“Shit.” The teacher pulled his beeper off his belt, furrowing his eyebrows anxiously. “That’s my wife. I’m going to make a quick call but if I come back and I catch you all talking or fucking around…” He points at the metalhead accusingly as he runs out the door. 

“Jesus Christ. I thought he would never leave.” Eddie sighed as he got up and slid into the desk in front of Steve reaching out to high five him. “Harrington. What are you in for?”

“Fucking Tammie told Ms. Luhrmann I was hiding in the girl’s bathroom.”

“You pervert.”

“It’s not what you think, ok! I left Nancy a note but she never showed up.”

“I told you, man. You need to stay away from those good girls. Speaking of…” Eddie swivels around on the desk to face you. “What are you in for, sweetheart?”

You curl a bit into your body, hoping they’ll just leave you alone. You don’t belong here. This isn’t normal for you. You just wanted to get through the week and never think about this again. 

Two hands, one of them covered in rings, come into your field of view in front of you as they press against your desk. “I asked you something, princess. Don’t be rude now.”

You closed your eyes at the deep tone of his voice. He sounds so sexy…

“She can definitely speak. Talked back to Carol today. It was amazing.”

That grabbed your attention as you turned to look at him. When you yelled at Carol, he wasn’t in the immediate group but he must have been nearby. They were his friends after all. 

“What did that bitch say?” Eddie asked Steve but his eyes never left you. 

“Said she had a fat ass.” The other boy rolls his eyes. 

“And what did you say?” He asks, speaking to you again. 

Your eyes found his before they left to scan you lips, down your curvy body, and back up to your face. 

“Boo!” Eddie shouted as he slammed his palms on the wood in front of you, making you jump again. He and Steve both chuckled as he sauntered away, back to his friend. 

“She commented on the fact that Carol lacks any kind of an ass and then followed that up with the word ‘bitch’.”

“Ooooh, you bad girl. You’re not wrong. That evil little person has nothing behind her. I prefer a girl who has some extra umph you know? Plus, their pussy always tastes the sweetest.”

You exhaled shakily at his words, having only heard or read them in stories. You definitely weren’t a virgin. You had been with men and had boyfriends but none of them ever spoke like Eddie had. They were always extremely shy type guys who had no idea what they were doing on top of you.

“Mr. Munson!” The teacher came back, sighing with his hands in the air. “Really?”

“Sorry, Mr. C. I had a question for the pretty girl but she doesn’t seem to be capable of speech.”

“I don’t blame her when it comes to you.”

################

The next day, you became more aware of Eddie and Steve’s presences. You didn’t realize you actually had a couple of classes with Steve and lunch with both he and Eddie. The metalhead’s eyes watched you walk past the Hellfire club table as you tried to ignore him and the other boy constantly turned to glace at you as he ate with his friends. 

At the end of the day, you filed into the detention room, surprised to find both boys already there and seated in the front row, much closer to you than they were yesterday. 

“Ok troublemakers, collect your things, we are headed to the theater room.”

“I believe thespians refer to it as an auditorium, sir.” Eddie replied in a comical voice that made you smile but only Steve caught it.

“Yeah whatever. I don’t care. Just paint and behave. I’ll be right back there watching so no funny business.”

“Can we talk, Warden or is that still a no-no?”

“Yes, Mr. Munson. You can speak as long as you paint.”

You descend to your knees and they both follow suit. Steve reaches over for the paintbrushes but as he leans over towards you, he lifts it out of your grasp and hands it to his friend. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something? You gotta ask for it.”, he smiled over at you as he waited. “No? Ok then.”

“Please.”

They froze as he sat back to look you over. “Please what?” He laughs as your face scrunches in disgust. “I don’t know what you want unless you ask me for it.”

“Please, Steve…can I have a brush?”

He nods as he passes it to you and you immediately duck down again to focus on the task in front of you. 

“Your voice is pretty. You should talk more.” Eddie’s eyes remained on the board as he painted. 

“It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk. She just doesn’t want to talk to us.”

You don’t know why but hearing Steve say it like that made you feel bad. It wasn’t exactly that you didn’t WANT to. You just didn’t trust or know them. King Steve was close friends with the people that tortured you daily and Eddie was the resident bad boy your parents warned you to stay away from. They both intimated you greatly not just because of their air of dominance but because you wanted them to wield it on you. 

You wanted them to use you until you or they couldn’t take it anymore and that scared the hell out of you. You were so inexperienced when it came this stuff plus…how do you explain that to someone? Shouldn’t you want to be wined and dined? Yes, you did. You absolutely did but you wanted to be fucked senseless first.

“I do want to talk to you.”

“Then why don’t you?”, Eddie asked.

“You scare me.”

“Well, shit, sweetheart. I’m not a fucking devil worshipper like these asshole people think.”

“It’s not just you and that’s not why.”

“I’ve never made fun of you, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey. She has a name! Steve, you should have told me.”

“Yeah, you never made fun of me but you never stopped them either. You laughed along with them while they picked on me and degraded me in front of the entire school. You’re just as much an asshole as they are.”

“Y/N!”, the teacher hollers from his seat. “As much as I am enjoying watching you tear the king of Hawkins high a new one, I don’t see much painting happening.”

Blinking, you shut your mouth and begin moving the brush again. 

“If you ever talk to me like that again, I don’t care where we are or who is in the room, I will throw you over my knee and punish you. Do you understand me?” You turn to look him, finding his angry eyes penetrating yours. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Steve, come on.” Eddie rolls onto his back as he stares up you. “She doesn’t play like that. Do you? Probably still a virgin.”

“I’m not a virgin.”

“I see. Ok, not a virgin but definitely not a hardcore kind of girl, right? You like the missionary, vanilla, candles by the bed, listening to slow 70s tunes. Am I right?”

“You don’t know me. Jesus, no wonder you two are friends.”

“Oh wow, Eds. Look at her. No, she doesn’t like that at all. I mean, on some nights yeah, but you prefer being told to shut the fuck up and do as your told.”

“N-n-no. I don’t.”

Your answer makes them giggle. “I would not have pictured that. You like being used?”

“Edward Munson! I swear to God. If I have yell at you guys one more time, we are going back to the classroom to sit silently.”

As detention came to a close, the teacher asked if you wouldn’t mind staying a little later to put everything away. You agreed especially since he told the guys they could leave. You needed that space away from them. 

When Steve scolded you, you felt your panties dampen but you meant what you said. He never did anything to keep the popular kids from picking on you. You saw him laugh with them multiple times. Thinking about Eddie asking if you liked being used, had your pussy clenching around nothing as you rubbed your thighs together. You didn’t know enough about him to really form an opinion. The town talked about him a lot and his club he had at school but you two never crossed paths. 

You kept thinking about them as you collected your things and headed down the hallway to leave for the day. Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth as arms lifted you by your waist into a nearby open classroom. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Steve and I wanted us to finish our conversation. Now that that asshole isn’t here, we can!” Your eyes widen as you listen to Eddie speak. His tone light but there’s a strength behind it that frightens (and excites) you. “Now, where did we leave off? Ah, yes. You were just about to tell us if you liked being used.”

Steve lifted his palm from your lips, resting it gently against your throat.  “Please.”

“Nope. We already had that discussion. You have to say what you want to get it.” Eddie sighs as you push back against the man behind you and he quickly tightens his grip on your neck. “Sweetheart, give me a word. Any word you feel like you’ll remember in any…overwhelming situation.” His eyes seductively raked along your body. 

“Vanilla.” You aren’t sure why that’s the first word that came to mind but it was the only thing you could think of as Steve loosened his grip and your head fell back against him. 

“If there’s one thing you are not, baby, it’s vanilla but… that’s fine. If at ANY point during our little talk here you feel unsafe or you want to stop just say that word. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand.”

He steps forward, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Good girl.”  His fingers trailed down to your shirt, grinning before he roughly ripped it open exposing your bra covered breasts. “Now…I’m only going to ask one more time. Do you…like…being used?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I want t-t-to be.”

His eyes widened in genuine surprise. 

“You said you’re not a virgin, right?”, Steve asked and you shook your head. 

“Aw, Harrington. What she’s telling us is she’s never been fucked properly. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Eddie, that’s right.”

The metalhead rolls his eyes in frustration and takes a few steps back. Steve flips you around and slams your upper body down against the desk, reaching around to unbutton your pants as he pulls them below your ass. You hear the sound of a lighter being closed before the echo of his palm slapping your skin reverberates through the room. 

As a handcuff belt buckle places itself in front of you, the smell of smoke fills the air. 

“Sweetheart, this would go a lot smoother if you just listened and did as you were told.” He bent down on his heels so his face was level with your own. “Yes. What?”

“Yes, Eddie, I’ve never been fucked properly.”

“That’s better.”

Steve’s hand moves to hold your face flat to the wood and your arms reach to claw in front of you. You whine as he spanks you again. “Stop moving!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…” Your apology trails off as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. 

Eddie balances the cigarette between his fingers as he runs his thumb under your eye. The gesture was sweet in contrast and he noticed you begin to settle. His eyes flicked above you and a few moments pass before Steve slides his hand off your head to between your shoulder blades. 

“You said you were afraid of us. Why?”

When you don’t immediately answer he sighs and the other boy delivers two hard slaps to your bottom. Instead of pushing back or fighting underneath the weight of his palm holding you down, you laid still, accepting it. The only movements you made were with your face as you winced at the feeling.

“Why?”, he repeats. 

“Be-be-because of… how you m-m-make me feel.”, you whisper. 

“Did you hear that, Stevie?”, Eddie smirked up at him.

“Just barely but yeah. Y/N, I was there when you shouted at Carol, remember? I know you can speak louder than that.”

Your face scrunched at his words and the metalhead held his chest as he laughed.  “It kills you doesn’t it, princess? To both hate someone AND want them at the same time.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted as Steve tugged on your shirt and adjusted you so you were facing him again. “You hate me, Y/N?”

When you took too long, his fingers pinched your cheeks roughly as he tilted forward till his nose was touching yours. “I asked you a question. You fucking answer! Do you hate me?!”

“Yes! You fucking asshole! I hate you!” You defiantly glared at him as you screamed at him. 

“His friends kind of suck. They don’t even know about me. Do they, Harrington?” Eddie snuffed out his cigarette, tossing the butt in the garbage. “I mean it’s fine. I don’t care. What I do find fascinating through is this electricity between you two even though you both hate each other.”

“I don’t hate her.” Your eyelids fluttered at his admission. Why did you torture you with his friends if it wasn’t because he didn’t like you? “If I hated her, I wouldn’t want to make her cum right now.”

Eddie pressed himself to your side as his lips hovered over your ear. “Has anyone ever made you cum before?”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from Steves and you didn’t even both trying. “No. No one has ever made cum.”

“Good girl. See? She’s learning. I knew you were smart.” Eddie’s palm slid along your shoulder, bringing your bra strap down your arm. His fingers, almost delicately, freed one of your breasts from its confine and you panted out a silent moan as the pad of his thumb grazed your nipple. 

“Do you want Steve here to make you cum?”

You couldn’t help it. Your hand wrapped around the back of the other boy’s neck as you brought his lips to yours. The first thing you noticed was how delicious he tasted. You felt like you could orgasm just from this alone. His hands remained still against your hips except for the little twitch of his fingers when your mouths connected. 

Your bliss was short lived as a hand abruptly clung to your neck and violently shoved your back flat to the desk. 

“Did I ask you if you wanted to fucking kiss him?!” You trembled as Eddie angrily shouted in your face. His gripped tightened against your neck for a brief moment before he let go and you turned to the side as you gasped for air. 

“Munson.” The metalhead glanced at Steve realizing quickly the man was gone. His eyes were black with lust and need, practically hyperventilating as his hands dug into your meaty hips. “Jesus fucking Christ. Fine. She said she wanted to be used. I guess we’re doing it this way since someone can’t fucking listen.”

Steve hastily unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants just enough to free his cock before spitting in his hand and stroking it along his length. You gasped as he breached your entrance, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him as he stretched you open. He was much bigger than anyone you had every been with and you cried out as you reached out into the air, grazing your hand along Eddie’s shirt as you grabbed the fabric. 

“How does she feel, Harrington?”

The man’s grunts filled the room as he slammed his hips into yours. “So, fucking tight. My god.” He slowed his pace as he craned his neck to watch between your legs as his dick disappeared inside of you. 

As you continued to moan, you focused on Eddie as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his own cock, pumping it with his fist. “Open your mouth, princess.” You did as you were told as his fingers tangled in your hair, pushing you lips to length. “Good girl. Fuck me…” His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he slowly thrust hips. 

The feeling of you moaning around him causes him to wipe his head towards Steve, watching as the boy pressed rapid circles into your clit. With both of them inside of you, you were quickly hurtling toward that ledge. 

“Yes, pretty girl. Take it. Fuck…your mouth feels amazing.” 

Both boys thrust into at a fast pace, Steve slamming his hips into yours so hard the desk underneath you began to shake. You started to gag and gurgle around Eddie’s cock. 

“Wh-what, baby? You gonna cum? That’s right. Just let go and feel it.”

He pulled himself out from between your lips, continuing to pump himself as he watched you. Your body shook as your back arched and you came.

Steve murmured obscenities under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. 

“God damn. That was so fucking sexy.” The metalhead shoved his cock back into your mouth as they both chased their highs.  

Steve came first, pulling out of you just as he released ropes of his seed on to your stomach. Eddie soon followed, holding your head in his firm grip as he came down your throat.

You laid flat against the desk, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath. As you heard them pull up their pants, you half expected them to leave you there having got what they wanted but were startled when you felt a napkin being run along your stomach. 

“Geez. Always so jumpy.” Eddie gripped your arm as he helped you sit up so he could adjust your bra and shirt. “Shit.” You followed his eyes realizing what he did; that when he tore open your shirt a lot of the buttons flew off with it. On impulse you covered your chest with your arms as you tried thinking of excuses to give your mom when you got home. 

While his face furrowed in thought, Steve lifted you off the desk and guided your pants up your legs before buttoning them back up. 

“I got it.”, the metalhead snapped his fingers as he tugged his shirt over his head. Gently, he removed your blouse, handing it the other boy before throwing his own over your head. He smiled in triumph at himself as he walked around you both towards the student desks and put on his leather jacket. 

“Do you drive here or…?”, Steve asked. 

“Yeah, my car is out front.”

“Good. Come on. We’ll walk with you.”

As they started to head for the door, you reached for Eddie’s arm, turning him around, and yanked him to your body as you leaned up to kiss him. It startled him at first but after moment he keened into it as his hands cupped your cheeks. He definitely tasted different than Steve but you still wanted more. You could kiss him all night if he let you. 

After pulling away, you pushed past them and headed for the parking lot, feeling their eyes watch you as they followed. When you guys got to the parking lot, you were thankful for the slight breeze as it cooled your still somewhat sweaty skin. 

There were only three cars remaining; yours, the BMW you assumed was Steve’s, and Eddie’s van. Steve reached across you, cutting you off as he opened the vehicle door for you. You paused for a moment before turning to look at them. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but the soft eyes that looked back at you were completely different than what you had experienced these last two days. 

You wanted to say something but weren’t sure what. Thankfully, they understood as Eddie stepped forward, placing his hand on your shoulder as he guided you into your car. 

“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

#################

@sidthedollface2 @luna-munson83 @devilinthepalemoonlite @corrodedcorpses

[hondacivicbrain]

I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion about Clarisse’s casting in the PJO show that basically boils down to “anyone can be ugly if they have a mean personality.” And like yes, that’s true, but "ugly" people also exist (by ugly, I mean not conventionally attractive). let ugly people be ugly (so long as their ugliness is not a reflection of wider prejudice - ie, if only the evil characters are fat, that’s bad).

This bothers me especially because there is no representation for tall, broad, fat, “ugly” preteen and teenage girls, at least not any that isn’t centered around them becoming beautiful. I don’t think ugliness is a bad word on its own. making a character who rejects femininity and is described as ugly both pretty and feminine isn’t making some kind of statement about how pretty people can be mean too, especially because Clarisse is ultimately redeemed.

For her character to be ugly and mean at the start of the story and end still "ugly" (by conventional standards of femininity) and nice means that her character growth is about her personality - and that her looks were never a reflection of her morality.

It's true that you can be pretty while rejecting femininity, but the way Clarisse is styled in the show (in my opinion) is too feminine. Her appearance is too put together, too subtly feminine, for how she's described in the books. This is no shade to Dior! I actually think she does a great job as Clarisse and I look forward to seeing more of her. But tv and movies have a long history of casting attractive women only to call their characters unattractive, thus reinforcing harmful stereotypes about what is and isn’t beautiful, instead of casting actually *average* looking women.

THAT is the representation my middle school self is aching for. I want a middle schooler who’s taller than all her friends, who’s got a belly, who looks awkward in dresses because of her build, who’s wider than her male friends, who's going through puberty faster than her friends, who has acne and doesn’t wear makeup and doesn’t understand what femininity is and dresses like a Tom boy. These traits aren't ugly. They're normal. They're just not aesthetically attractive, so they are invariably erased from media.

Where is my preteen girl in basketball shorts because the shorts available to girls are too revealing for someone of her size? Where is my teenager who has been told, explicitly or otherwise, that she doesn't conform to beauty standards, so she refuses to wear dresses or skirts? Where is the girl who knows she's "ugly" and doesn't care? Where is the one who never cared until someone told her, and suddenly she wishes to be skinny and slender and not broad-shoulder and not tall and to look like her mom instead of being told she looks like her dad?

I'm all for diversity in casting because people are diverse. But body type - and not just visually appealing or acceptable body types - is part of diversity to. Annabeth’s appearance has virtually no impact on her character, and Leah carries her perfectly. For Clarisse and others like Piper, their appearance is INCREDIBLY relevant to their characters.

Let “ugly” girls be ugly. Combatting fatphobia - which also includes normal sized women and broad shoulders, because the fashion industry has labelled all non-models as fat - in media is not just about showing non-skinny people as attractive. It’s about showing non-skinny people as EXISTING. and being valid for that alone, outside of their moral or aesthetic value.

I can only think of one actress who’s roughly my build. I can think of zero times I watched media aimed for kids and saw a kid my size. Diversity is not just an aesthetic designed to be palatable. Casting characters with ugly personalities as beautiful people when the character in question will go through a redemption isn't the slay some people think because it's still reinforcing the idea that looks have moral value. I rarely see characters without aesthetic attractiveness nowadays, not ones who are on the hero's side; when it comes to children, when I say attractiveness I mean the way a child in a clothing ad looks cute and cheerful, not romantic/sexual attractiveness. For children especially, body positivity is far less important than body neutrality - the idea that their bodies don't have morality or attractive value attached.

What's most important to me is that "ugly" and unfeminine preteen and teenage girls see themselves represented neutrally, in a way I can't recall ever seeing myself.

I don't mean to hate on Dior. I really do think she's excellent as Clarisse. This is just my perspective, as an "ugly," tall, broad-shouldered, chubby former middle school girl who would've loved to see someone who looked like me.

[chaifootsteps]

tbh one thing i liked about the instas that i dont think the series will bring back is him wearing casual clothes outside of work. the concept of a gay male sinner from the 1940s embracing modern day fashion from the current era because of how cute it is without anyone caring because its hell, (with the implication he mightve been doing this for decades beforehand before he came to the hotel,) is just really cool concept to me :3 it gave him a fashion identity outside of his sex work (something the show really doesnt do at all,) and it let him explore a more cutesty side to his character, but in a really natural way! i also just liked it because most of the sinners we saw tended to stick to dressing from their era, which made angel stand out more.

but this isnt present at all in the series, and even weirder, the one time he has a chance to put on pajamas in episode 2 like the girls have, where hes alone in his room with fat nuggets, he doesnt. maybe we wouldve had time for that if there wasn't a joke dedicated to showing how tone deaf and christian charlies morals are for the bisexual daughter of lucifer morningstar.

all the clothes he wears, there's more of a focus of his outfits from posion rather then anywhere else. i hardly see as much fanart of that stupid ugly ripped finale suit, as much as i see fanart of the latex suit angel wears while singing about being unable to help swallowing poison. either that, or the outfit he wears while dancing with val. love the fluffy spider butt, but cmon. we can get an angel dust design thats more spider in a natural way, but we can't see him wear casual clothes when he isnt working? or even see him in a full suit? (i really miss the purple suit from the instas, no stupid pink stripes, full suit for both arms, and his boobs were out w his tie instead of being hidden away like they are in the finale, which was perfect for his character </3)

him wearing clothes separate to his identity as a pornstar also helped him reclaim some of his freedom under his contract, obviously being unable to choose what val makes him wear on set. that's what angel dusts actions reflected in the instas and the comics too. (the "work shit" box comes to mind, i hate that borderline on screen rape is fine for an amazon funded show, but a box of dildos is too much,) even the addict mv shows this, with angel wearing just a pink sweater and some purple shorts when laying with cherri. or even just the casual, but cute outfit he wears when he blows up that club with her.

its just one of the few things that made him feel human, especially when fashion is bound to change in so many ways when youve been in hell for 77 years like he has. this part of his character being missing (along with the implication he even has a life outside of his work in the series; pilot ad was coping with work with hard drugs, being an teasing asshole as a defensive mechanism, getting into turf wars and murdering mafia goons. but still dresses cute and gets to be cute w his friends in his own time! series ad is coping by self destructing and letting people drug and fuck him so he'll be "broken" but then gets better by going out once after being waterboarded at work, only to not relax and be a mom to a joke character at a club called fucking consent,) is one of the reasons im still bitter about the instas being nuked. but not the only reason.

viv will always takes the credit for them anyway, no matter if she feels they do or not, because her fanbase isn't smart enough to realize someone else wrote these stories they still love. even if theyll be the first one to remind you they arent canon, because the creator said they arent. but my honest to god confession is that sometimes the instagrams feel more like the canon hazbin hotel to me, even months after s1 dropped, simply due to the nuance and detail it has compared to the actual series. it wasnt perfect, but you could tell there was passion there- passion that now, only the leads are allowed to put in hazbin so their favorite character can get more screentime and attention.

Thank you, Anon, for this absolutely beautiful writeup. It was true, seeing the difference between the outfits Val forced him into versus the outfits he chose to wear on his own time was one of the most interesting aspects of Instagram Angel Dust. It was a more safe-for-work extension of the "work shit" dildoes that didn't make it to Amazon Prime (while his graphic on-screen gang rape did) and it was powerful.

Of course, there are practical logistical reasons why cartoon characters wear the same outfit, but if only one character in HH was going to have a big wardrobe, it absolutely should have been Angel. But of course it wasn't, because as far as Viv and Raph were concerned, the only Angel outfits that mattered were the ones that fed into their shared fetish.

[heauxvibez]

D.U.F.F

warning: none, but it's based off one of my fav movies! Enjoy!

D.U.F.F.

An abbreviation for 'Designated Ugly Fat Friend'. Often in a group of women (usually adolescents) there will be a D.U.F.F. as a means to look better by comparison.

"I'll be back, I'm going to get some fresh air. It's kind of congested in here!" Emage hollered to her friends, her voice barely audible over the booming music. They just nodded, lost in the rhythm, not really paying their friend any mind.

Emage hated parties, and constantly asked herself why she had even attended. 

Oh yeah, because my friends forced me out of my bed and dragged me here.

Yeah, she could've easily left bearing in mind that she had driven her own car there, but her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave her friends, who were most likely drunk, by themselves.

"Can you get the hell out of my way?!" she groaned, shoving past the sweaty bodies that rubbed against her, disgusted by the fact that the perspiration of the random people dripped onto her skin. Gross. The congestion was becoming too much for her and if she didn't escape the overcrowded area, she was sure she'd pass out.

After jostling pass people for what seemed like forever, she eventually found a patio. There were a few people out there drinking, conversing, sticking tongues down each others throat, but she didn't care. She was able to breathe in fresh air.

It was a mystery how her friends were able to deal with people rubbing against their bodies, invading their personal space but maybe it was just because her personal space was something she had cherished. Anyone who had even dared to pass the boundaries she had set for herself, man, they were in for a rude awakening.

Emage discarded the hair tie from her wrist, throwing her sweated-out silk press hair into a ponytail. She fanned herself, exhaling as she leaned against the patio railing. Although she hated being there, she loved the view. It was late at night so the city lights lit up the sky, and the full moon illuminated the night faultlessly.

Clearing her mind, she thought about how she even ended up being at this party. Of course, her friends dragged her here, but how'd they even get invited? It was an enormous house occupied with celebrities, whom she didn't really care for that much. She was pretty sure some of them weren't too fond of her either, being that she had cursed at a few for bumping into her, not even sparing an apology. Who did they think they were? She was well aware of who they were but there was no room for disrespect no matter who they were.

Oh. Now she recalls. Her friend Bree got invited by some famous wrestler. She forgot his full name but remembers Bree calling him Jon, or Jimmy, or maybe both, who knows. Emage wasn't surprised when her friend said the dude approached her after a match she went to. With her beautiful 4a curls delicately resting on her shoulders, doe-like brown eyes, and supermodel figure, she was sure to catch some celebrity's attention.

"Hey, duff." she heard a deep voice call from a distance, breaking her from her thoughts.

There was no way the man was speaking to her, so she continued to gaze at the night sky. From her peripheral vision, she could spot the tall figure stand next to her and lean against the railing as well.

"Hello? Duff, I know you heard me calling your name.." she shook her head, a small smile emerging onto her face. She turned her head, facing him. The young woman had been prepared to tell him off but her words became stuck in her throat.

He resembled a Samoan deity with his strong, chiseled features and full beard. His lips were a soft shade of pink, practically inviting a kiss, and his brown eyes seemed to peer deep into her soul. His white T-Shirt was basic, but it clung snugly to his body, highlighting his divine muscles. The sight of the tall man was enough to melt a popsicle stick.

As quickly as she could, she snapped out of her thoughts before he could see her sweat.

"I don't know who you are, or who you think you are, but I'm definitely not the one. My name is not Duff, so I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't call me that. Thanks," she snapped, her tone sharp.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the man's chest. He found the woman's feisty demeanor amusing, but her words didn't faze him.

"Well, since you don't know who I am," he said, throwing his fingers in the air to create air quotes. "I'm Roman Reigns, you know..WWE st-"

"Listen, I didn't come here to listen to you talk about yourself. I just wanted some fresh air away from the ignorant people at this party. But it seems I can't even get that," she interrupted, showing no interest in his self-introduction.

"Ooo, I've never met such a feisty duff," he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

The scowl deepened on her face, a clear warning sign, but he couldn't resist the amusement of provoking the short, angry woman.

"Why do you keep calling me that? What the hell is a duff?" she demanded, her weight shifted onto her right leg, arms crossed over her chest, exuding attitude.

"You don't know?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised in mock surprise.

"Obviously not, that's why I'm asking," she retorted, stating the obvious.

"Designated Ugly Fat Friend," he leered.

"Excuse me?" her eyes widened.

"That's what Duff means; Designated Ugly Fat Friend."

What? Did he just? I know he did not just?

Emage was taken aback. He didn't even know her, yet he was tossing insults her way.

"Did you just... did you just call me fat and..and ugly?" Her face flushed with anger.

He shook his head. "No, well, yes, but a Duff isn't always about being ugly or fat, or both."

Her expression remained unchanged, so he continued. "It's about being the least attractive one in the group. You know, the one who makes everyone else look better. Don't worry, every group has one."

Throwing her hands up in the air, she faked a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Jesus, because that makes the term way less insulting."

"I'm not even sure if you're being serious about this. I mean, I'm decent... I-I'm not ugly," she stuttered. He attempted to pat her shoulder, but she quickly brushed him off.

"Of course you're not. You're cute, but your friends Bree and Asia are...sexy," he admitted, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

If she could have reached up to grab him the hair he had slicked into a ponytail and slung him over the patio railing, she would have. What was the point of him coming over here anyway? Did he want to shatter her confidence to the ground? As if she didn't already have insecurities she was trying to work on.

She lunged for a nearby drink, snatching it from the grasp of a random individual.

"Hey, I was drinking that!"

Without hesitation, she flung the contents of the cup all over Roman, the Hennessy cascading over his white shirt, leaving a nasty brown stain.

"What the hell was that for?" he bellowed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the blotch on his shirt.

A heavy silence descended upon the patio as the surrounding crowd observed the confrontation between the small woman and the towering man.

"You need to chill," he chuckled, though the anger was evident in his voice.

She responded by lifting her middle finger before swiftly turning on her heel and exiting the area.

"Oh, yeah. Real mature!" he yelled after her retreating figure.

With a frustrated groan, Roman was left with the nauseating scent of spilled Hennessy under his nose. Feeling the weight of the party guests' curious stares, he glanced up.

"What the hell are you guys looking at?" he demanded, his irritation palpable as the onlookers quickly averted their gaze, earning a devious chuckle from the WWE star.

"Stupid duff..." he muttered under his breath.

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

Umm..200 words turned into 2 million. Lol this is just going to be a plain ole writing challenge at this point. Part 2?

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx @theninthwonder

[insuke69]

“More of you to love, my darling.”

✰ Drabble of Hobie x tall!chubby!reader

You aren't small, by any means.

Its one thing being a tall skinny person, and it's be another thing being short and 'fat',

But you got stuck with the worst of both worlds, Chubby and tall. Not skinny enough to be able to wear anything comfortably low waisted but not curvy enough to be able to express these insecurities without being accused of seeking attention or being told how people would kill to look like you.

you were lucky to meet a man like Hobie--who is taller than you, loving, fun, overall perfect.

Maybe even too perfect..

He always tells you how much he loves you. he always says "You're beau'iful in my arms, darlin'."

Beautiful. That doesn't sound right, that is the oposite of what you've heard all your life. hollow complements of men oversexualizing your curves and beautiful smaller, thinner friends asking to borrow one of your jackets because it'd be 'cutely oversized' on them.

And it isn't that you're ugly either, you sometimes feel like the baddest bitch on the planet--before seeing the person in the mirror that makes you hate those rolls on your back. that pudgy stomach. the plump large hips that adorn the top of your squishy legs.

"What're you doing?" Hobie asked with a playful smirk as he looked over at you, you were trying on clothes you had bought online--biggest size and everything.

"These stupid jeans are meant to be baggy and shit but they fit me normally and don't even- zip!" you say back to him with slight exaspuration while trying to work the zipper of a pair of jeans that you really wanted to fit since they matched your style perfectly.

those jeans were too tight below your belly button and their supposedly baggy length fit you normally because of your height.

"Shh, sh. calm down, it's alrigh', we can return them and order the next size u-" He tried to tell you reassuringly as he walked over to you and put his hands on your waist.

"Thats not the point, these are already the biggest damn size." You groan as you suck in your stomach as much as you physically can to try and force the zipper closed or get the button through its designated hole.

"Woah, woah," He said as he put his hands over yours to stop you from forcing the fabric againts your skin and straining the material over your plump flesh. "We can go to the mall or something and get you jeans like these there, once we return these, get the money back and talk about whatever is actually bothering you." His tone is cool and calm while his hands start lowering the jeans from your hips to get them off of you.

He always knew that you would prefer to at least be shorter or at least thinner, while to him you're already beyond perfect. He hates going to the mall because of the branded clothing there that only further corrupts capitalism after every cent and here he is.

Offering that to you to make you happy <3

_______________________________

BE PATIENT WITH ME YALL IM BARELY A QUARTER DONE WITH P2 OF WHATS IN A NAME THIS DRABBLE IS TO KEEP YALL FED

[f1rewalk3r]

since apparently this is what i’m known for: What Motorcycle I think each member of the PRT ENE would ride:

Armsmaster: Canonically rides a “souped up motorcycle.” obviously this means tinkertech in the parahumans world, but in the biker world this means egregious, stupid custom. so i’m giving him a fat tire Harley Davidson VROD. an ugly bike with an ego for a silly man with an ego

now what do you get when you cross the most reliable, unkillable dual sport of all time with a diesel engine? you get the Kawasaki KLR-650 HDT, the M1030-M1, a finicky monster used by the US military. perfect for the unkillable Miss Militia, a connoisseur of finicky military equipment. it can go anywhere and use anything for fuel, but it was literally designed to run on jet fuel.

Velocity’s a speedster right? so obviously he’s gonna get an ultra fast liter bike, super sport, 200hp, etc. WRONG. you fucking idiot. you fucking moron. personally i don’t subscribe to grimdumb f(c?)anon that he perceives real time when he’s speeding. that’s stupid cape design imo. he can go fast as his heart desires with his power. yknow what he can’t do with his power? rip up the fucking motorcross track, doing flips and jumps and shit. radical, man. so he gets a two-stoke ripper, the Yamaha YZ-250.

Battery, on the other hand, is a girlboss who needs to get stress relief via a supersport liter bike. she’s dealing with assault all day, can you blame her? so she’s getting the Honda CBR1000RR-Fireblade. liquid cooled, 999cc, inline four, with a top speed of 190mph it really doesn’t get much faster than this, folks.

now if you take the dual sport Kawasaki, give it the suspension of the Yamaha motorcross, but the tires and street performance of the supersport, you get the Supermotard class of bikes. the crackhead hooligans of the bike community, these are the bikes that are doing wheelies in residential areas, jumping over that grassy hill near your office building, and squealing around corners as the back end slips out. can you tell i have a favorite type of bike. now, who’s our resident crackhead of the protectorate? why, Assault, of course! So he’s getting the king of supermotos (and the bike i will probably be purchasing in may), a Suzuki DRZ-400SM

loud, annoying, and entitled Triumph gets the Harley Davidson Softtail, the bike of choice for obnoxious wannabe hell’s angels, the bike of choice for your balding 50yr old dad, or for the kid who wants so badly to be relevant and accepted amongst the boomers he calls friends. idk where Triumph fits into this its kinda just a vibe yk he’s a nepo baby, he gets a harley

and finally. the perfect bike for those with mobility issues/those concerned about safety due to preexisting medical conditions, Director Piggot gets a Harley Davidson Trike and she fucking slays on it, understand? girl power.

i forgot dauntless because he’s boring so he gets a boring adventure bike for boring losers. BMW F650GS. fuck you dauntless you dont even get a fun big BMW you get the heavy underpowered one. go to hell 🖕

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for giving a gift to a charity shop?

I (16f) had a bit of a falling out with my friend Bella (15f) before the Christmas holidays. We both had a crush on the same guy and she blew up at me over it, even though I never approached him. Over Christmas we didn't really resolve the situation, we just ignored it, and it's still felt a bit tense.

My 16th birthday was the 4th Jan and I had a small birthday party. Bella was acting totally normal throughout the party, until she gave me my birthday present. Bella gave me a DVD copy of The DUFF. If you don't know, the DUFF stands for "designated ugly fat friend". As I looked up from opening it, she quirked her eyebrow and me, and I just got the overwhelming feeling that she'd chosen that on purpose. I thought I'd look completely unreasonable if I brought it up to her though because it's a romcom dvd not a death threat, so I pretended to be really happy with it.

It did really hurt my feelings though, so without opening it, I took it to the charity shop and donated it. She's asked me what I thought of the film. I've seen it before, so I just told her what I had thought of it on first watch.

Now though, I feel like I might have just been really paranoid and attributed malice to her when she just gave me a movie and I feel bad for donating it.

What are these acronyms?

[tearwolfe]

is the name Duff really short for duffel bag? If not may I ask where it's from (if anywhere)

The only contexts I've seen Duff in is the movie (d.u.f.f - designated ugly fat friend) & the phrase 'up the duff' (pregnant) and those dont seem like great places to pull a name from

yes, it's short for dufflebag. it's what most people irl call me, too.. except for my family and a few high school friends.

[snarky-art]

I swear I dont wanna be mean but why does everyone keep making stella fat. Why is it that the most attractive character, whom everyone finds beautiful inside the show, is the one who is always turned fat. Like... No one would find her attractive if her canon design was like that. I promise im not being mean but I feel like the artists are always projecting themselves onto Stella and wanting to be loved like she is, cause usually the ones making her fat are fat too, like I saw your selfies and you're a bit curvy. I promise im not being mean im just curious.

For starters, send me more fat Stella’s if you can I haven’t seen that many made and would love to see more varied takes on her appearances in redesigns.

Secondly, I made her fat because I think it’s nice to have the character that’s canonically considered to be the most beautiful girl in all of magix, a fashion icon in the magical dimension, a very celebrated trendsetter, be something other than the stereotypical concept of socially acceptable fashion tropes. She isn’t an hourglass, she has cellulite and stretch marks, she’s super pear shaped, and that can be and should be considered something to be normal, since they are, and shouldn’t be seen as things that need to be hidden. Having that put on a loud and proud fashion girly seems good imo and it can only really contribute to good stuff for body image stuff and representation. I did it so people like you could reconsider that beauty is something that comes in multiple forms and shouldn’t have to fit one type of standard. If we wanna get super technical too those standards also very from culture to culture and I image that’s extended even further in Winx club.

The girls are all aliens from different worlds. There’s bug people. There’s a lady in the miss magix episode that has tentacle hair, a blue body, and tentacle hands and feet. I highly doubt beauty standards in canon would be the same as what you’re saying, ie that no one would consider her beautiful. As if people who look like her irl also would inherently be considered not beautiful too. I know lots of people who have people that think they’re the hottest thing ever and they have all sorts of different body types and traits. Lets just call it realism lol

I’m not really projecting any of my physical stuff on her also, outside of I guess stretch marks and cellulite?? But I put those on other characters too so I don’t really think that holds up. I actually put my old body type on Flora since she’s my favorite, but now I’m way more midsized, like a slightly thinner Bloom from my stuff (love this unit of measurement gonna start using the gorls as a reference point for my appearance going forward lol). I’ve always had the “socially acceptable” fat type of body, ie hourglass with even proportions and a super snatched waist. I just think it’s tired and trite to constantly reenforce the idea that “the hot fashion one” needs to be tall and thin all the time, and if she is made fatter, that she needs to look like I did ie not much of a tummy with super equal proportions, big boobs, and a big ass.

Kinda related to that also, I made a post about a lot of character design “rules” too that I think are kinda outdated and annoying, at least to me, since I’ve seen them a million times. We all have. So I decided to do something different that I think would be good for normalizing traits outside of what we consider typically acceptable for that kind of character.

I’m already very loved also and don’t need to project anything on Stella lmaooo

I got multiple partners, great friends, do modeling, and am slaying with my own fashion and appearance stuff outside of that too. That’s all independent of whatever I’m doing with her physical body type when I draw her.

Gonna level with you also, you going “I’m not trying to be mean” doesn’t erase how weird this ask is. Sounds like you have your own gripes that you need to work through. Like, if you consider those traits on Stella ugly, that means you definitely have some internalized hatred for fatness, skin blemishes, scarring, and other peoples’ general appearances if they don’t fit some specific molds that aren’t realistic for the majority of people. Even if it is just genuine curiosity, being aware of this stuff going forwards and reevaluating how you view beauty standards and bodies in general would do you a great benefit imo.

Thanks for going through my old selfies tho it was pretty weird of you but at least make sure to leave a like on them. I looked hot when I was fatter and I look hot now too sharing this with the world is the least I can do💕✨💕✨

[boom-boom-boyx2]

HQ headcannons bc i need a life!

Daichi:

- he has 4 siblings, this man gives such older brother vibes but at the same time older sister vibes so idrk-

- i’ve decided he has 2 older sisters, and 2 younger siblings (brother & sister)

- this man can’t go a day without out cussing. i’m fully convinced that he doesn’t cuss a lot, but when he does it’s only the word ‘fuck’ and it’s usually said under his breath and ever so hostile.

- when he went to college he would ask the underclassmen to watch over his younger sib’s when he wasn’t in town.

- Yachi would make stickers and keychains and stuff for Kiyoko & Tanaka’s gym and would mail them to Daichi every time a new design came out

Kageyama:

- his sister labels all of his sweatshirts with his name on the tag

- when tsukki found out he started to check the tags randomly and would make fun of him

- kags sister plays in a band for fun and they do gigs on the weekends at bars n stuff, so every once in a while the team goes to eat after a game and will listen to her play!

- hinata was trying to figure out why kags hated his hair, and yachi told him “it’s probably bc he’s allergic to oranges!” and now hinata won’t let him live it down.

- kageyama has a couple random things in his room that he bought purely bc they reminded him of his friends, no one knows this tho

- in his sisters phone his contact is “little yama” eng

-in his phone his sisters name is “big yama”eng, but everyone thought is was a typo for ‘big mama’ and daichi hit him on the head bc he thought he was calling his mother fat.

- he knows how to play a little guitar, but only bc his sister told him she wasn’t gonna play volleyball with him anymore and he still wanted to hang out with her.

Asahi:

- when he was younger he was obsessed with fashion and when he saw a pretty outfit or smth, he was asked people about it but once he hit age 10 people started getting scared and running away and that’s how he got his whole “i’m scary and ugly looking” complex

- he once lost a bet in second year to nishinoya and dyed a strand of his hair purple, it was an under layer so you couldn’t really see it u less he pointed it out.

- noya felt bad and dyed his bleached part purple too

- asahi has a younger and older sister, and knows how to do fancy braids and other hairstyles!

- he actually grew out his hair bc his sister wanted/is now a cosmetologist, and wanted to deal with a real persons hair but hers was to short😭

- he used his mom as a mannequin in college for summer projects, but when he became a famous designer he has his mom model his first few designs and his newest designs for a show.

- the videos of that show blew up on yt and tiktok bc everyone was saying “our favorite designer showing that even famous, you can still love your parents!” and on live someone read him that comment and he bursted out laughing and said “plenty of people love their parents even when famous, you just don’t see them as often”

- he was wheezing the entire time trying to explain himself