#he can still he a sexy twink and also fat
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I know I'm "woke" and "too radical in my fandom consumption" but I think if ccs are fat their characters should be fat bc it is sorta wild to make a "hot" version of someone's skin and it's just like. Skinny.
#this post is mostly about tango#but I'm sure it can apply to others#I'll just redesign tango on my OWN accords#he can still he a sexy twink and also fat#no fandom tags bc i don't actually want to cause problems#I'm just thinking out loud
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How do you get your siffrins to look adult? I keep accidentally giving them a baby face but I WANT THEM TO LOOK GROWN AND EXHAUSTED LIKE HE DESERVES
okay so i legit think i fail at making siffrin look adequately adult like half the time but here's a general breakdown of my like. thought process when im actually um. thinking .
So first of all heres my general tips for proportioning a face, and how i attempt to keep the roundness of sif's in-game proportions while also like... drawing them more realistically? i had to practically reinvent a Human Style for drawing isat fanart since im a furry artist so a lot of this is fresh in my mind, luckily(?) for you i suppose.
This newness also means you can like, watch me fight and struggle against how the hell to do this in my earlier fanart. so feel free to try and see what changed as i pieced it together.
Another note is body proportion. You note giving him a baby face specifically, but some of it MIGHT be that you're drawing the head too big for your style? Try and figure out how many "heads tall" your figures are and tweak the numbers until you find what looks "adult"
Here I cracked open one of the comics I used CSP Model refrences for (albeit feat Loop, who i envision to be the exact same height as siffrin. i am NOT a tall loop truther i think its funnier when that bitch is five foot NOTHING!!!!!)
drawing sif with adult proportions can be deceptively difficult though on account of their Being A Tiny Motherfucker. Mostly here though, I find that the best way to do this is to drop like 1/3rd of the length of an average drawing figure's legs. Short people tend to have short legs. I know this on account of a lot of my ocs being 5'3" and below (... for... reasons...... unrelated to my own... height.... 100%.... ) so once again I think a lot of this can come down to trying to fiddle with numbers and noting down what works.
OKAY NOW ONTO SOME MORE SIFFRIN-SPECIFIC DRAWING TIPS. like these are what i find myself doing to make them look older if i accidentally baby face them myself
The above kind of chibi-er doodle style im still not sure has Siffrin looking adult enough for my liking (someone who considers them minimum 28) but considering they're presumably genuinely a deceptively baby faced guy at least by game's start (even if they should probably look. unhealthy.) it's like... forgivable.
the bald spot is basically fucking cheating in terms of "making them look older" lbr but i am so fucking insistent on it and i punch the air in celebration every time i see anyone else do it. winner is ME!!!!
Anyway. the body hair thing is funny considering we basically have Word Of God that siffrin is not the kind of person who ever likes being naked/even having their feet out in a casual setting. but like. hi its me the weird fucked up miserable nudity guy. of course im drawing every pockmark and texture on their body.
Another note here is, on their naked form, I avoid overly smooth lines for outlines of the limbs and torso. This avoids making them look "sexy twink thin" (not my bag at all) and instead gives the impression of loose skin from fluctuating weight, uneven fat distribution, skin becoming baggier with age. I also let joints jut out and look sharp wherever I can. This is because im an asexual pervert who likes the human form the mostest when i can see 'imperfections' This adds to the haggard nature of it all, by being reasonably honest about what the kind of persistent decade-long neglect of self care and implied malnutrition would do to a guy
Last note: eyes. i find i end up drawing a vague glassy black smear with a hint of white for the sclera for siffrin like. a Lot. Eyebags to show weariness is not my preferred method as I find it, to be rude, a bit of an overused shorthand. Plus, while sif in game does get eyebags, they're usually more on pushed expressions where they're forcing their face. So I put more emphasis on drawing the folds of the upper lid (which the game does not do) to make them look weary.
I dont think i can elaborate on my opinions on How To Draw Eyes without it becoming a way the fuck too long essay because "drawing emotions good" is like. my number 1 goal in every drawing so even if everything else is scuffed to hell I HAVE TOOO get the eyes right because theyre the most emotive part of the face. if i cant capture an emotion correctly the drawing isnt getting fucking finished is the thing, so....
Luckily for me, drawing over eyes and continously tweaking them by painting over and over and over and redoing them can have the side effect of making them look over-detailed and thus worn/tired/agonised. yes this is why i draw loop's face so scrunched all the time. All I can say for this though is to do a lot of studies of both real life faces & the most emotive cartoon faces you personally have experienced. So like. steven universe is great for this because rebecca sugar is so scary at drawing eyes. theyre so fucking scary at it. or sometimes i just go stare at rebecca's old comics because jesus christ. anyway.
??? but yeah hope this helps. its something i feel like i have a genuine hard time with too, especially since im so intent on keeping their face round & my artstyle is genuinely very cutesy even when i am being weird soo ...?
tl;dr:
draw the eyes smaller, give them a chin, the canon nose helps a lot & dont forget the bald spot. everyone draw the bald spot. for me.
#???? HOPE THIS HELPS IVE NO IDEA WHAT IM DOING BESTIEEEE. imo ppl like dragonymango draw way better adult-looking sifs than me LOL#lucabytetalks#long post#isat spoilers#isat siffrin#two hats spoilers#doodlebyte#soz for the wait time i kinda had to draw pictures to explain anything in a coherent manner. not that this is coherent at all
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Tfa decepticon reddit.com equivalent:
R/tifu: tifu by asking my (7000000M) conjunx (500000M) if he thinks his much hotter friend (20000M) would be a surrogate carrier for us [edit #1] you must understand this is not me being lecherous. I love my conjunx but his hot friend's hips are as wide as my conjunx is tall. [Edit #2] stop sending me DMs asking for the comm code of my conjunx's friend. (Megop)
R/relationships: my (6800000M) conjunx (15000M) keeps frantically asking me if he is "the hot friend" of his group. Does he want me to lie to him? because his friend (20000M) is as wide as he is tall and can destroy buildings by sitting on them. [edit #1] no I AM NOT going to give you worms the comm code of the hot friend FRAG OFF. [Blitzbee]
R/vent: my (6700000M) conjunx (5000000M) lost the sparkling again [lockprowl]
R/medicine: [meta] stop posting creepshots of that autobot ambulance and asking if anyone knows his designation, current location, or comm code. Not only are these thirstposts off topic, he who shall not be named starts spamming the entire subreddit to defend his conjunx's honor [edit #1] it's only been 2 cycles and I had to delete ten different comments. Drift stop making alts to post here you aren't even a medic OR a decepticon
R/advice: a 60 page long post from Lugnut lamenting about finding an autobot [bulkhead] sexually attractive for the first time in his life and how to "stop betraying the decepticon cause". He vaguely describes the autobot, and the comments are a wall of "that is not an autobot. You have encountered a fertility deity crafted by primus's servo. Its ok to want to fuck him"
what i've learned from this is that tfa Bulkhead is one sexy bastard, and all the 'Cons kind of wanna get him pregnant (classic case of “I want a big fat bitch but i'm dating this skinny twink instead” truly sad), and that tfa Ratchet is also one sexy bastard and all the 'Cons wanna get him pregnant. This still severely baffles the rest of team prime, who all secretly thought they were the hottie of the team. and of course, the prowl miscarriage arc thickens. I know a twink with that little waist can’t carry a sparkling to term. His ass is not sexy in ’Con culture at all.
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Hermit cubito gender and presentation headcanons
These are just my headcanons, agree or disagree, it's all in good fun.
Iskall: Nonbinary, any pronouns. He usually defaults to he/him because it's simpler that way, so a lot of people don't realize he's not exclusively he/him. Lately, they've taken to giving out a different set of pronouns every time she introduces itself just to watch the chaos unfold (especially with the new guys) Cleo caught on pretty quickly to what Iskall was doing and intentionally helped confuse people even more.
Cleo: Gender apathetic, she/they, doesn't consider herself nonbinary but also doesn't like to be called cis. They're what you get when you order "woman" off of Wish, and she's fine with that.
Xisuma: Literally the he/they version of Cleo.
Stress: The proudest trans woman to have ever trans womaned. That color scheme is not an accident. She used to be stealth, so when she told everyone she was trans, they thought she meant the opposite direction, and she had to clarify that no, she's been a trans woman this entire time.
Etho: Skiny twink trans man. The mask used to be because of disphoria because he thought his lips were too feminine, but now it's become so much a part of his presentation that even after hrt fixed the "problem" he can't let go of it. It's the kleenex box of gender euphoria.
Cub: Trans man. He wanted hrt to turn him into a bear, but he just couldn't manage to grow enough hair to qualify (the season 7 beard was fake). He's still fat and sexy, though, and he can live with that.
Grian: Cis+. He thought maybe he was transfem to some degree at one point and explored that through drag. Turns out, nope. He just has trauma. Once he worked through that trauma, cross-dressing became a way to genuinely express his feminine energy. He's a guy, except for when being a girl is funny. He's committed to the bit way more than to his gender.
Scar: Cis, but doesn't understand why clothes need to have genders. Does he look hot in it? Yes? Awesome, let's wear that dress. He doesn't like the term gnc or consider what he does cross-dressing because that would imply that he's wearing something not meant for men, and clothes are meant for everyone!
Mumbo: Very stubborn egg. He's almost certainly agender, but look at that fabulous mustache! Nothing makes a man a man more than a fabulous mustache, right? He's a man... whatever that actually means. Suits are manly, right? See? He's so manly of a man! Anyway, here's Wonderwall...
Impulse: Agender, he/him, most people don't know. He's not closeted or anything, he's just too busy to come out. He has farms to build! His lack of gender is the last thing on his mind. He does, in fact, realize that the nonbinary flag could be color picked from his outfit, and he finds that funny.
Doc: Intersex, he/him. He certainly identifies more with the "masculine" end of the gender spectrum. What could possibly be more manly than than a butterfly filled with explosives! Males of many animal species are supposed to be the brightly colored ones! You're all just narrow-minded and jealous!
Jevin: He/him or it/its. Slimes don't have genders or sexes. People started using he/him for him because it was the societal default, and he didn't question it for a long time. Recently, it's been liking the sound of it/its, as that more accurately represents its sense of self.
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ok ok i'm sorry i didn't give you a chance to be a hater before. maybe this will be better... what's your opinion on fancasts? just in general, but also in terms of the popular ones (idek what the prevalent ones are except for timmy as regulus, but i know there are a few people tend to gravitate to for r/s as well..)
hahah but i loved to wax poetic about delicious food still <3
i wanna preface this by saying that once i was looking at andrew kung’s photography and i saw the Most beautiful man in the world and i thought This Is Sirius Black. hes name is Jullian Culas and i edited photos from his instagram for a moodboard from my fanfic ‘blue’ and i follow him to this day and am always awestruck by his beauty and headcanon him as sirius a little sometimes. i was also into tripp when goyp was big and it was a whole thing. (and i get ben barnes as dorian gray)
and i think sirius fancasts works for me because i write him as the Most beautiful man and hes always super attractive, outstandingly pretty etc in my fic which is also popular fanon. so its plausible that he looks like a celebrity/model.
when it comes to remus though - hes just a regular guy. hes ugly-hot. he has a fucked up nose and scars on his face. he uses 3-in-1 shampoo. ive written him with a disability. even with art, i think remus is harder to visually Get right - and no celebrities/models look like that. same with fat lily, fat lily is so dear to me but there are not a lot of celebrities/models that are fat red heads. celebrity/model beauty can be very restrictive and even boring, and i think its better and more sexy for characters to be ‘normal’, have pimples, scars, body fat, disabilities etc than to look like celebrities. i think gay fanfiction is at its best a little transgressive, and fancasts that enforce unrealistic beauty standards can be quite detrimental to than end (unless your character is the Most beautiful man)
theres also the question of flexibility, like i enjoy trying new things, personality wise and looks wise, in each different work (like sometimes remus is a twink and sometimes hes scary looking) and how do you do that with a strict fancast? my characters in my head as i write are Vague Shapes and Concepts and i dont think i could write remus if i imagined him as Andrew Garfield.
plus, Andrew Garfield’s too much of a Person everyone knows about Actor Spiderman Emma Stone’s boyfriend once Network gay for me to just… fit a whole remus lore in him.
as for timmy - my mom has a big fat crush on Timothee Chalamet and as such i can not imagine him as regulus black. thats my mom’s sugar baby thank you very much.
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snas
AS A CHARACTER:
Sans is an incredibly good character, I think a lot of people just forget it under a slew of OOC and/or AU fan content, as well as there being some hype backlash from the fact he’s so popular people tend to overlook other characters in favor of him. But every now and then I look at how he’s presented in canon and honestly, he’s genuinely very interesting, so I can’t blame people for going a bit bananas over him.
Like, on the one hand he’s this depressed slob who likes telling stupid jokes and drinks ketchup, and in all but the worst possible route basically just passively lets you destroy whatever you like while giving you nothing worse than some passive-aggressive talks in response. That’s hashtag-relatable and all that; but then, the mysteries surrounding him, the ones that are never fully explained, as well as the semi-meta role he plays as commentator on the player’s actions and the Surprise Ultimate Boss makes for a fun juxtaposition, especially when you go in unspoiled.
But I think what people tend to overlook, both those who emphasize his depressed, flawed side, and those who emphasize his Mysterious Dangerous Tough Dude side, is that Sans actually has a genuine kindness to him. Even though he knows that you/the anomaly is a serious potential danger, he still holds out hope that you’re someone who can be befriended, that you’ll come around with a few bad jokes. And of course, there’s the way he looks out for his brother, and his friendship with Toriel- those also show that he has a warm, caring side to him.
Basically, 5/5 stars, Sans is good you’re all just mean.
IS HE SEXY:
He’s not a personal crush of mine but I don’t mind seeing sexy stuff of him, even if there’s a certain degree of “lol come on you know he’s too lazy for that, this is word of god”
imo sexy!sans works best when the artist is either 1) emphasizing that he’s an inhuman skeleton monster with fucked up powers, or 2) going for a grounded approach and like. Not forgetting that he’s a short, fat dude. (Or fat-coded??? Is that the right term? He’s a skeleton but drawing him as skinny when human feels too Incorrect to me.)
The former is good because monsterfuckery, the latter is good because there’s this like. Sensuality to it that I find hard to explain. I normally like skinny pretty twink boys but not in Sans flavor, the contrast is too jarring for me.
So like. 2/5 stars to 4/5 stars in fanworks, 2.5/5 stars just on how I react to him in canon.
#honestly sans is probably the dude i most wanted to talk about so ty for reading my mind here#thethrillof
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kinktober 5 - sterek
A/N: Here’s the long awaited Sterek smut! Prompts filled: Office sex, Clothed/Unclothed, Size kink, Prostitution
Hope you guys enjoy it! You can also read it on AO3.
Smut after the cut!
Stiles tapped his fingers nervously against his jean covered thighs as he waited for the elevator to reach the floor Erica had indicated in her text message. Apparently, some bored CEO needed a little late-night strange to keep the midnight oil burning and Stiles had been up in the rotation. He sighed through his nose as he thought about how long this might take since he had some homework to finish up before class in the morning. Why he’d signed up for early morning classes he’d never know…
The elevator dinged its arrival and the gold-plated doors swooshed open. He was looking at a white and grey marble lobby with glass doors that led into a cubicle farm with offices lining the outside walls. It looked claustrophobic to Stiles, especially if you were in one of the cubicles, but then again… you weren’t literally selling your ass to make rent money either so maybe he shouldn’t judge too harshly. Apparently natural sunlight was the tradeoff though and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand it. He stepped out of the elevator and dug his phone out of his back pocket. He looked down at the screen again to memorize the office he was looking for and pushed his way through the glass doors into the dark, silent office beyond. Even without the text directions he would’ve been able to find the office he wanted since it was in the farthest corner from the cubicles and it was the only one with the lights on. He mentally prepared himself and walked through open doorway.
One of the most beautiful men Stiles had laid eyes on was sitting at the large, dark cherry desk in the center of the office. Stiles could only see him in profile, but it was enough to understand that this guy was striking enough to never ever need to call for a midnight whore. He could probably just stick his dick out of the front door of the building, and someone would suck it for him for free. He was tan with dark, almost black hair that looked impossibly soft and a frame that said he hadn’t stopped working out since high school. He sat up straight at his L-shaped desk and was typing furiously on his computer, brows furrowed as he concentrated on the screen. Stiles could see leftover takeaway containers in his trash and the office smelled like coffee and Thai food. He came to the front of the desk and stood awkwardly for a moment, waiting for the man to take notice of him.
“Erica send you?” the man asked, voice serious but higher than Stiles expected. He’d asked this without stopping his work or glancing Stiles’ direction. Stiles cleared his throat before answering.
“Yeah, yep that’s me. What can I do for you?” Stiles asked, a little awkwardly. He didn’t know how he felt about being practically ignored like this. The man stopped typing and finally turned to look Stiles over. His cold hazel eyes traveled up and down Stiles’ body taking note of the too-tight jeans, the black batman tee two sizes too small and the red flannel. He looked wholly unimpressed, but Stiles figured if he’d wanted someone who would come in looking like they worked there, he should’ve negotiated for Jackson instead of the Young College Twink. His eyes came up to meet Stiles’ and he turned his chair and body to face him full on. He was wearing a slate colored suit with a cool toned button down underneath. His cufflinks glinted when they caught the light and his watch obviously could’ve paid for a semester or two of Stiles’ tuition. He was younger than forty, but how much younger Stiles couldn’t gauge except for his obviously high status within the office around them. When he spoke again, it startled Stiles a little since he’d been ruminating on exactly what type of work was done here.
“Strip for me,” he commanded, leaning back and interlacing his fingers in the air in front of him. Stiles looked at him for a second before stepping out of his shoes and pushing off his flannel. He had never mastered taking off his clothes in a sexy, alluring manner. He was a hooker, not a stripper. He let his clothes fall to the floor in a pile next to him until he was standing naked and almost shivering in the office air. The air conditioners hummed easily throughout the office and it was cool enough to make Stiles’ skin pimple. The walls were glass and he could see down into other buildings around them, but the windows were all dark. He wasn’t terribly worried about someone watching them. The man’s eyes swept over his body again.
“Get yourself hard,” he directed, still watching Stiles with a scrutinizing gaze that somehow caused a flush of heat to go through Stiles’ body. He didn’t know why he found this hot today with this man when normally this kind of exhibitionism wasn’t his bag, but he’d do as he was told. Some Johns liked to feel like you were there as an enthusiastic participant and would dock your fee if they saw you getting soft on them. Stiles could hold an erection while mentally going through biology flash cards, but getting there sometimes was a challenge.
He gripped himself loosely and started pulling on dick to get it hard. He closed his eyes, placed himself back in his bedroom in the apartment he shared with his best friend where no one could see him and he was doing this for fun. He brought his other hand up and roughly rubbed a thumb over one of his nipples. He pinched and pulled at the nub causing it to tighten and little jolts of desire began to run down to his cock. He left his nipple alone and started to knead and pull on his balls so he’d come to full hardness. When his cock felt solid enough, he let go and opened his eyes to look at the stranger. He was still watching him over his interlaced fingers, though his eyes were now darker, and Stiles could see the straining outline of his cock through his expensive suit pants.
“Come over here,” the stranger said, scooting further back from his desk and motioning to where he wanted Stiles to stand. He did as he was asked, leaning his naked ass against the cool wood of the desktop. He stared down at the stranger and waited. His gaze looked hungry now and it made Stiles cock throb with the need for one of them to do something to ease the pressure between his legs. The stranger unbuttoned his pants and pulled his pants and underwear down far enough to pull out his perfectly massive uncut penis. Stiles mouth watered just looking at it. It was fat and a little longer than normal, the mushroom tip peaking past the foreskin and already beading with precum.
“Are you prepped?” the man asked calmly as his hand slowly stroked over his girth, pulling the foreskin back from the head and then pushing it over, and Stiles had to swallow the flood of saliva in his mouth before answering.
“Yes,” he said, trying to sound unaffected, but his voice betrayed him by coming out high and breathy as he stared longingly at the man’s erection. He never got fucked by guys this good looking who were also packing a cock made for video.
“Then bend over the table and spread your legs for me,” he said, waiting for Stiles to comply. Stiles turned his body and bent over the table, pressing his heated flesh into the mirror-like finish, his nipples and cock jumping at the touch of cold against them. He widened his stance and waited patiently. He could hear a door opening behind him and soon felt the cool smearing of lube against his hole. Three fingers pushed into him without ceremony and he exhaled noisily at the unexpected feeling. He thought this beautiful, dark-haired Adonis would surely just jam his cock into him and start pounding away. He didn’t expect for him to finger fuck him first, but that is what he was doing. He pushed and withdrew his fingers in a smooth rhythm, twisting until Stiles let out a quick, electrified yelp when he dragged the pads over his prostate. As soon as that happened, the fingers disappeared leaving Stiles wondering if he’d somehow fucked up.
“You ready?” he heard the man ask from behind him. Stiles heard the creak of the chair and then he could feel the warm line of his body close behind his thighs and his stomach curled in delighted anticipation.
“What’s you name?” Stiles asked suddenly. He could feel the mental pause hit the room when he did, momentarily breaking the spell that they’d created together.
“Why?” the stranger asked, obviously nonplussed.
“So I know what to scream out when you’re railing me,” Stiles answered, daring to peak over his shoulder at the stranger. The man was giving Stiles a sexy smirk and shaking his head slightly.
“Derek. Call me Derek,” he answered after a beat. Stiles nodded and turned his body back onto the table.
“Okay Derek, come at me,” Stiles challenged, grinning at the huff of laughter he heard from behind him. The laughter didn’t last as Derek started pushing his fat cock past Stiles’ rim. The stretch almost ached, but it felt so, so good. Stiles felt full and getting fuller as the initial push to bury Derek inside of him seemed to last forever. Stiles was starting to sweat by the time he finally felt Derek’s balls resting against his perineum.
“Shit, fuck, okay now… Goddamn, you’re fucking big,” Stiles swore, turning his head to lean his forehead against the desktop as he waited for his muscles to relax a little around the thick shaft pushing at them.
“Fuckin’ flirt,” Derek answered derisively from behind him. Stiles took in a breath to reply but was stopped short as Derek pulled his hips back and gave a short, pointed thrust back into him, rocking Stiles’ body over the desk. Stiles grit his teeth and swore, but Derek kept going. He started with slow, shallow thrusts but before too long he was rocking back and snapping his hips forward, his cock splitting Stiles wide on the table. Stiles wanted to hate it, wanted to be professional and fake moan, fake pant, fake enjoy the situation, but since Derek had located his prostate he’d been nailing it with every other forward thrust and Stiles was just trying not to shoot before the customer did. He was leaking precum all over the desk beneath him and his cock slid through the mess with every jolt Derek gave his body, driving him fucking mad.
Derek was getting close; Stiles could tell by his stuttered breathing and the desperation starting to bleed into his thrusts. Stiles wondered if he’d unload inside him, paint his hole and make him clench to keep it in or if he was going to paint his skin in hot, wet stripes. He found he really didn’t care which Derek chose because with a few well-aimed thrusts, Derek had him coming apart onto his desk, cum flooding underneath him and smearing between his skin and the highly lacquered wood finish. It was like that was what he’d been waiting for too because Derek started to fuck Stiles faster as soon as the last drop was finished leaking from his spent cock. Stiles grit his teeth, rim tightening as much as it could as he forced himself to ride out the oversensitivity from his orgasm. Derek’s thrusts were almost violent, and Stiles knew he’d have a bruise across the top of his thighs tomorrow from the edge of his desk.
“Derek, fucking cum already!” he shouted, ready to crawl over the desk to get away from the animal nailing him from behind. It took half a dozen more thrusts, but then he felt the warm gush of fluid inside of him and Derek’s body stilled, a groan like he was dying pushing out of him as he emptied himself into Stiles’ body. They stayed where they were for a minute or two afterward, bodies thrumming with satiation and coming down from the high of arousal and completion. Finally, Derek pulled out and Stiles felt cold inside without him. He clenched and started pulling his muscles together to close up what felt like his gaping asshole. He felt Derek’s fingers slide up his taint through the liquid leaking out of him and push it back into him roughly.
“You’re making a mess,” he commented. Stiles heard the swoosh of air from his leather roller chair as Derek plopped down behind him with a loud exhalation. Slowly Stiles straightened his body, looking down to where he’d cum all over the desktop.
“If you think that’s a mess…” he started, gingerly sidestepping to get out from between Derek and his desk. He turned to see a smug look on Derek’s face as he eyed the streaks across the surface of his desk, marring the perfect mirror shined surface. Then he turned and looked at the same mess streaking Stiles stomach and groin.
“When you go to the restroom, grab a couple paper towels and clean this up. I’ll transfer your payment while you’re out,” Derek said, pointing past the office door towards the hallway. Stiles left the office still naked, not wanting to get his clothes messy with cooling jizz. He spent a couple minutes in the restroom with warm water and shitty pink office soap cleaning himself off before pulling a couple more and wetting them with the same to take back to Derek’s office. When he got back it was like he’d never been there except for the mess on the desk. Derek was back to staring at the computer screen and typing rapidly. Stiles eyed him for a minute before shrugging and cleaning his cum off the wood. When he was finished, he pulled his clothes on with his back to Derek.
“Think you can come again tomorrow night?” Derek asked into the silence between them. Stiles turned and saw that he was still not looking at him, but obviously his attention was divided because his keystrokes had slowly minutely as he waited for Stiles to answer.
“If you got the cash, I’ve got the ass,” Stiles drawled out easily.
“Good. Same time. If you bring a plug I’ll give you a bonus,” Derek answered. Stiles gave him a two-finger salute and turned to leave the office. Even though his body ached, and his ass felt hollow after such a fuck, he found he was excited about more than just the money when he returned the next day. He’d have to thank Erica for the job.
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When you added onto your tags and acknowledged that tightlacing is vastly different than corsetry... I'm ace and I think I'm on the aro spectrum but that was extremely hot of you and I think I fell in love
hey i’m on the aro ace spectrum too high five!! and FUCK yes i’m so glad that my strong feelings on making sure everyone knows the difference are appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!! and also you’re giving me this stellar opportunity to talk about it even MORE anon i love you let the infodumping commence
this gets long so the rest is under the cut:
TL;DR: corsets serve the same purpose as a bra, supporting from the hips instead of the shoulders. today, some people wear them for that purpose, and some people wear them as medical devices for scoliosis. if a corset doesn’t fit properly, it’ll be uncomfortable, which is why we hear actors complain about them so much (because they’re not wearing custom-made ones, like they would have, say, a hundred and fifty years ago).
so when everyone was wearing corsets, they had ones that fit them, and corsets HAD to allow women to breathe and move because EVERYONE was wearing them, including working-class women. tightlacing was done by a tiny minority of upper-class women to get the tiniest waist possible, which was fashionable at the time (and still is, if you look at modern waist trainers). and yes, it was damaging to them, but it’s not the intended purpose of a corset. the reason that so many people today think it IS is because of victorian men, who sucked.
(so don’t draw neil josten like a super-rich super-fashionable victorian woman)
(and that was the tl;dr so as you can imagine! what’s under the cut is quite long! BUT IT’S INTERESTING SO I HIGHLY ENCOURAGE U TO READ)
OKAY SO HERE’S THE DEAL. we always hear about corsets as like, women-oppressing torture devices. that’s not true. the *reason* we have all these misconceptions about corsets is the fault of victorian men, just like so many things are the fault of victorian men
the actual purpose of corsets??? like the ACTUAL actual purpose of corsets??? they have literally the same function as a bra. the benefit of a corset is that it supports from the hips and waist, not from the shoulders, so depending on your bust size a corset might be better for you (and for your back)!
and people do still wear corsets today, *not* just people dressing up. like i mentioned above, they’re practical, they’re COMFORTABLE ACTUALLY, and if you have scoliosis then special corsets are sometimes used as medical devices!
so back to them being comfortable. this is another huge-ass misconception. you know who wore corsets Back In The Day? women. not just rich women. middle-class women, working class women, EVERYONE. because it’s underwear. do you think a woman who lives on a farm and has to help with farm things could do that with a super uncomfortable, super tight corset? no.
you can try to lace your corset up as tight as possible, but if you have ANY form of core/abdominal muscles whatsoever, you’re just. not gonna be able to have a wasp waist. you’re just not! you have muscles there that can’t be pushed out of the way!
and are you REALLY gonna put all that effort in to lace it super fucking tight every single day? no. you’re not. because unless you’re super rich, you’re probably having a family member or spouse or maybe a single maid help you get dressed in the morning, and the two of you just don’t have time to turn ‘putting on undergarments’ into a whole fuckin’ production every single day.
but birl, you ask, why is it that movie actresses (such as emma stone and emma watson, literally just off the top of my head) always complain about corsets? simple answer: they’re not fitted well, and the actresses have been inundated with victorian men’s opinions on tightlacing and think that wearing a corset automatically means they’re gonna have their internal organs fucked up. if a corset doesn’t fit you, of course it’s gonna be uncomfortable!!!
and when it comes to movies/tv, whether it actually fits is... not always treated as a primary concern. because they’re doing it for costumes, and since it’s film, the actresses can change out of the corset and wear something else when they’re not filming. if you’re wearing a corset as part of your everyday clothes, you’re GONNA pay for one that’s made specifically for you (not to mention that off-the-rack clothing is a fairly recent invention, and for the vast majority of human history, clothing was made to fit an individual, so OF COURSE women would wear corsets that fit them)
costume corsets are frequently not a functional garment and they don’t need to behave like one. real corsets are, and they have persisted as a functional garment for CENTURIES, which they would *not* have if they were actively harming every single person who wore them. which, if you recall, was... pretty much every single woman. that’s the difference, and also, like i said, there’s an element of fear that also drives those actresses complaining because they have fallen for the victorian male complaining.
(side note: i watched enola holmes recently, and it’s a great movie, but for FUCK’S sake a corset is not a tool of repression any more than a bra is! i know some of y’all like to say that a bra is a tool of repression, because you hardly have any need for one! but a lot of people actually do need breast support SO THEY DON’T DEVELOP BACK PROBLEMS)
now. on to tightlacing, finally. with a normal corset, you lace it tight enough to get support from it, and no tighter, because why the fuck would you want to imprison your lungs and also you probably have core muscles because only a TINY subset of society was rich enough to afford zero abdominal strength.
tightlacing, on the other hand, is what most people think of when they think of a corset. pulling the laces on the back of the corset as TIGHT AS POSSIBLE (sometimes with multiple people pulling) to get a teeny-tiny waist. it severely restricts your lung capacity (since your lungs go all the way down your back), it forces your internal organs to move, and it can deform your ribcage.
additionally, since you can’t breathe very well, you have to breathe into the top of your chest (this is where the whole ‘heaving bosom’ thing comes from), so you can’t really engage in physical activity AND when you take your corset off, you’re likely to faint because of blood rushing everywhere.
and like i have mentioned SEVERAL times, if you have abdominal muscles, it is NOT GONNA WORK. because you can’t push muscle out of the way.
so this can only be done by the superrich, and IT WAS A FAD. i cannot state this enough. it didn’t last, because it fucked people up! and the fact that it wasn’t healthy, combined with some good old victorian misogyny, meant that victorian men were talking about tightlacing CONSTANTLY. and since normal corsets had been around for forever, nobody was talking about them because everyone knew how corsets were supposed to work!
which means, of course, that if you look at, say, victorian sources discussing corsets, they’re gonna be talking about tightlacing, and if you don’t live in a time where the VAST majority of women are wearing corsets, then you might not know that tightlacing is this weird fad among super-wealthy women and assume that it’s what everyone was doing!
now here’s the thing. we have bras now. we also have modern corsets. guess what? we also have modern tightlacing. those are waist trainers. now, i don’t know as much about them as i do about corsets, but i imagine they at least pretend to be better for you than tightlacing. don’t fall for it. being able to breathe is sexy.
AND if you’re interested in this, bernadette banner and karolina zebrowska have some great youtube videos on it! i actually don’t remember off the top of my head if bernadette banner has a video dedicated to corsets but she does talk about them when analyzing terrible ‘historical’ movie costumes
another side note: so what sparked this initially was talking about the aftg fandom and how neil josten is frequently represented in art as having a tiny waist. having made it to the bottom of this post, i hope u now have an ARSENAL of facts with which to know with 100% certainty that it is impossible for neil josten to have a wasp waist. the guy’s a d1 athlete.
and even if it’s some kind of AU, if he runs as much as he does in canon, no wasp waist. he has abdominal muscles. and body fat, because he is not a bodybuilder and he NEEDS body fat. i get that he’s short???? but he’s not a twink. he’s a future pro athlete. so even if he tightlaced a corset, he would STILL not have a tiny waist. it’s physically impossible for him.
the end!
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Freshman Fatties: Chapter 6
Shortly after the boys’ button-popping dinner, word began to spread about Andy’s weight gain. All the athletes were gossiping about how the school’s star quarter back had turned into a fat slob and was supposedly fucking his gay roommate. Word even spread into Benjamin’s inner circle, who had known about the relationship all along but were growing concerned about the boys’ weight. Andy grew self-conscious and began skipping class to avoid going out in public, preferring to stay inside and eat his feelings. Not surprisingly, he continued to pile on the weight at an astronomical level with Benjamin not far behind.
By the end of March, it was official. Andy had been kicked off the team. It was rather scandalous and rumors implied homophobia was involved. However, once Benjamin’s rather wealthy parents caught wind of the story they intervened. They pledged to fund the rest of Andy’s college career, football or not. The former jock was now free to pursue his interest in literature and leave the world of college sports behind. He felt relieved, but still insecure about his weight.
“Are you sure you like me like this?” He asked Benjamin one day. “I mean look at this gut. It’s covered in stretch marks, I can’t even see my cock. I have to sit down to pee.”
“Honey, I think you’re beautiful inside and out. I’m in love with who you are, not what you look like. Besides, you see how fast I get hard for that big fat belly.”
“I know, I know. It just takes getting used to I guess. I’m three hundred twenty pounds now. I never imagined I’d weigh that much. I mean christ, I break a sweat bending over nowadays.”
“Well look at me! At two fifteen I think I can kiss my twink days goodbye! Every part of me is fat now, and the last fifteen pounds went straight to my gut. It’s never stuck out like this before.”
“Your gut and your ass,” Andy grinned. “As long as that keeps growing along with the rest of you then I’m satisfied.”
“It doesn’t seem to be stopping. You’ve really rubbed off on me you know. I was skinny all my life.”
“God I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I don’t know how I got to this place.”
“Hey! You got here because you love food and I love you. You’re so fucking fat and sexy. You know it’s really turned me on watching you grow like this? It’s so great.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You know, if I’m being honest… I’ve kinda enjoyed it too. Part of me likes being the fat guy in the room, my belly commanding space and attention. And it feels soooo good when we’re fucking. Feeling your fat slap against mine, like fuck. That’s sex. That’s it.”
“You really feel that way?” Benjamin asked.
“Yeah, I really think I do.”
“You know, maybe we should intentionally try to get fatter. You know, like push ourselves more than usual.”
Andy sat in silence for a moment before exclaiming, “fuck yeah! Let’s get properly plump.”
The boys decided to challenge each other to ten pounds in one week, knowing it was next to impossible. No harm in falling short they wagered, every pound gained together was worth it. So they began to pig out at levels previously unheard of for them. Chinese takeout, pizza, and milkshakes with weight gain powder defined their week of unbridled gluttony. They only left the dorm to go to class or get food. Otherwise, they were naked, fucking, or eating.
They began chugging cartons of whole cream before bed. Both were completely bloated at all times of the day, prone to sweating and sleepiness from the constant supply of food. Andy’s heartburn had begun to flare up but they powered through it with Tums. Benjamin had grown intensely uncomfortable in his own body with the sensation of constant bloat and digestion. His belly had also become intensely itchy as new stretch marks began to settle in.
Although both Andy and Benjamin would go to gym a few times a week, they decided to abandon it altogether during their week of gluttony. They had to use every moment for maximum gains. Most everyone else in the dorm had begun to take notice to the fact that the two fat gay boys seemed to be in a constant food hangover, their bellies always gurgling and their shirts constantly riding up.
By the time the week drew to a close both were exhausted and frankly ready to go back to normal. Although they enjoyed eating and were turned on by all the fat play, it had become uncomfortable and expensive to maintain that level of consumption. Sure enough, though, their efforts paid off. Andy gained eleven pounds by the end of the week. Surprising both of them, Benjamin outpaced the former football player at a whopping fifteen pounds gained in one week.
Their successful stuffing was certainly evident. Andy’s gut began to droop out of most of his shirts and for the first time his massive pecs softened up considerably. More than ever his former life as a jock was disappearing under all the chub. Benjamin’s body exploded in all directions. He had a juicy layer of padding over every inch of his body, and had finally grown a proper paunch that hung over his waistband.
Of course, Benjamin’s ass grew as well. Two massive fluffy cakes bounced behind him wherever he went. When he sat down, the fat from his ass formed a fat roll that extended across his legs and down into the fat pad above his crotch. For the first time he had a signifcant FUPA and he could not stop playing with it, loving the way his erect cock would cause it to squish sideways.
In addition, his underwear could simply no longer contain his ass. The waistband stopped three quarters of the way up his cheeks and the fabric used in the seat left little room for his junk in the front. He felt positively restricted. Due to the discomfort, Benjamin began to forgo underwear altogether. It was much more comfortable to let his fat ass, juicy FUPA, and cock and balls bounce around his joggers now.
Both boys appetites evened out to slow and steady gains after their week of fun, but their libidos skyrocketed. They couldn’t get enough of each other’s chubby bodies, soft rolls, and sweaty bouncy curves. They were fucking every chance they got. Constantly aroused by the newness of their weight gain, they would sometimes even meet up on campus to suck each other off in the bathroom. Whenever one of them was overcome with desire, the other would help relieve it, even if it was just through FaceTime. They were embroiled in their own little world of eating and sex.
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y’know what i’m still feeling annoyed and petty, plus i’m stuck inside and it’s storming out so why not type out a checklist of what everyone in TOW did to me.
since i am mean and manipulative, petty and pathetic, and so much more? why not bring up some old beef and give ya’ll something to eat.
Gansey: tried repeatedly to instigate drama -- if not actively break up -- my OC ships by encouraging -- through IC shenanigans -- cheating and lying. One of these happened while I was on vacation with my family and i still remember crying about it in a hotel bathroom because i thought one of my few ships in the RP was over and I hadn’t even been asked about it. This also included trying to get his OC Tomas to make IC/OOC (hey you can feign innocence when it’s in that dubiously OOC space, until its receptive in which case you can say it was IC the whole time!) at one of my ship partner’s OCs. Made repeated fat jokes at one of my fat characters (the same one they were clearly trying to get away from their partner...hmm...). Claimed I was always running to vague on my personal. Fair enough, I did, but they did the same thing. In poem form. Never answered my message about leaving the RP group because they felt ‘disrespected” by it. Repeatedly including untagged dubcon/noncon elements on the dashboard and triggering me. Lying to Ivy and me about having a full Overwatch party then trying to say “oh it just emptied you can join now”. hid this “FAR” idea from the rest of the RP community and then played coy when they got found out and asked about it by another anon (not me). Made fun of other RP groups in Tumblr tags then, when I asked them and their friends not to, was told “we’re a step above them.” Saying I was excluding them from things when I asked to play OW with them AND invited them to my horror RP group AND, only months beforehand, were inviting them to my Marvel RP??Trying to emotionally manipulate me through threatening to kill characters they had obviously grown tired of playing (probably because their major connections were to me and not their other friends) -- “haha i’m probably going to kill (my oc) idk but doesn’t that make you upset?? what will (your character) even do??” Engaging in nasty “”IC”” interactions with my character, basically telling me, through them, off, and being supported by the entire community in doing so. All of this really hurt me because I considered Gansey a friend and a major inspiration at one point in my life. Someone I non-jokingly looked up to and trusted. I feel like Gansey left TAR, our first RP group, because of how controlling, self-interested, petty, and mean-spirited the admins there were. That they were limiting other people’s creativity while building up their own narrative -- everyone else just there to be their audience. But you and Roman literally became Usa and Jen. Congrats. You lived long enough to become everything you’d rebelled against. And yes Gansey -- I saw all of your messages to everyone. Emotionally manipulating others -- telling them how terrible you are you don’t deserve their friendship, but would like to -- isn’t an apology. Its a tactic. Do better in the future. And despite me “blocking” you? There were a hundred ways to still reach out to me if that was what you really wanted. But let’s be real. It wasn’t. That was part of your gambit to. Goodbye.
Rosie: asked literally EVERYONE about what had happened with the ““TOW explosion”” except me. never even asked my side of the story. Rosie I don’t even get because the other admins treated her like shit -- making her do all the coding and technical components for the entire RP -- but she was still defending them to the end. Okay. And then to treat Shelly like utter SHIT even though Reyne was running her passive-aggressive mouth off about people who couldn't even defend themselves? Amazing. Yeah, she’s the bully. Your perspective was so twitested by your biases that you were ready to victim blame Shelly just because Reyne had to run at the sight of someone actually throwing their bulltshit back at them.
Reyne: Like Gansey, frequently indulged in cheating/cucking scnearios for fun -- again, including my own characters without asking or telling me. Don’t think Reyne ever apologized for this, IC or OOC. Dropped ships with me repeatedly -- leaving the group even -- without a word. Passive-aggressive to the max. Made a ship with Gansey just to play out her Teen Wolf OTP -- something that will never not be funny to me, when she called Gansey’s “character” Stiles. Smooth.
Frankii: Repeatedly dropped me and my characters from plots. Gave me one of the most hurtful comments of my RP community by essentially being like “maybe if your plots and characters weren’t so confusing than more people would want to RP with you.” Invited to join my horror RP group and never made a character. also told me this after Gansey wrote that enormous callout about me, that Roman piggybacked on while the getting was good: “also I'm not here to advocate on behalf of my friend but I really don't think Gansey was trying to be rude last night, they can come off a certain way when they're stressed.” COOL. The rest of Frankii’s message I really appreciated, at the time, but, surprise surprise, then despite us being “cool” they never spoke to me again.
Laura: I actually really liked Laura tbh but I guess she didn’t feel the same. Some of our interactions back in TAR were actually some of my favorites. I invited her to join my horror RP group and she never made a character. When I asked about this -- and if she needed any help making someone or wanted to leave -- she said she was working on it. Basically stonewalled me over time. Honestly though? Not a lot to say I actually think Laura is a good writer and pretty cool. Its just obvious who her friends were and I, stupidly, thought I was included in that.
Anna: Actually I really liked Anna too tbh but I guess I vastly overestimated our friendship? It happens. Dropped me from one of her plots -- after talking to me about including me in one of hers because she felt “obligated” basically, from being featured in my own -- without mentioning why or talking to me about it. Invited to join new RP -- refused (not mad about this, just making note of it). Refused to follow my new account when I lost my old one because “lol they’re such a furry”.
Roman: lmao where to even start. Roman was condescending and elitist literally from the beginning of TAR. barely acknowledged my existence until he had to.I started a plot with an open invitation to the entire RP group, with a deadline so I could start writing. Roman waits until its over and complains that they were left out. I include him anyway. Roman mocks the fact that I ask to tag or outright remove aphrodisiac dust -- because I don’t like seeing untagged dubcon/noncon on my dashboard, it upsets me a lot -- and then goes on a whole thread about it after I go to bed and can’t even defend myself. Apparently told his friends not to invite me to things because he doesn’t like me??? And then he has the nerve to be like communication is key and you can come talk anytime??? While having me on their public “friends” list with a description about me on his blog??? omfg...I literally can’t. To this day. Actually let this image speak for itself.
Everything Else: The repeated, childish treatment of strippers as immoral (””your character is stripping?? my character is so upset and is going to protect them!!”). The implication that characters who were stripping were also automatically sex workers. The continued references to my character, who owned this establishment, as being sleazy and manipulative. Also, honestly, what was with ya’ll adopting some random teenager into your OW groups? That was weird af. And then bringing some random person into TOW without asking anyone and trying to pull rank like “we’re the admin team and we can do whatever we want”. and shit-talking Meg and me in your “open forum” when all we wanted to do was get on with out lives. Like? Who cares? Ya’ll didn’t want me, at least, there anyway, clearly. You don’t get to exclude me then talk about how disrespectful and “wrong” the way I left was..........
Me: I didn’t do everything perfectly either. I know I could be passive-aggressive. I could be self-interested. I could make bitter comments. I dealt with feeling angry and upset by making memes -- which, I’m gonna be honest, I get why ya’ll were upset but I don’t regret either. I had spent so long in TAR/TOW with nobody interested in my characters and plots -- originally because I didn’t vid and played furries but, later, well.........see above -- that I did focus on my own narrative. I wasn’t invited to plots. I didn’t have sexy vampires and boy band werewolves. I played weird characters that didn’t fit the common niche of the cast of an angst and hookup filled supernatural YA novel. Maybe my plots were confusing but, honestly? It was because they were always going to be in the background. I wasn’t disinterested in anyone’s stories. I had just been left out of them for so long -- having to beg to even be a mention in a single mention -- that I had to make my own. I wasn’t there to just be an audience member to be aghast by Roman’s newest quirky boy or Gansey’s newest possessed twink. I was a writer. A member of the community. And, at the time? I thought a friend. Someone who deserved appreciation and respect.
I know who my true friends are now. We did, ironically, exactly what you did -- we have out own group, our own setting, our own community.
And I still live with the mean and manipulative things YALL said everyday. Even as an adult -- even with everything I’ve accomplished and am so proud of -- I’m still traumatized by being treated so poorly -- for years -- and not even realizing it. Something I’m still working on -- one of the many reasons I still have trust issues to this day. Congrats. That’s your legacy on me. aNYWAY
byeeeeeee
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You Asked, I Told
Spoilers up to Chapter 37 of Baghdad Waltz
Hi everyone,
I’m so very sorry for being so late with getting Chapter 38 out. Writing that Spent Brass put a delay in everything, though it was really crucial to get it posted before this next chapter.
This has been a really tough chapter to get right for me. I’ve gone back to the drawing board more than once for a couple scenes. I’m not sure when it will be out, but I’m working on it daily and making some good progress. Thank you for sending me your words of encouragement and letting me know you’re thinking of me! I’m thinking of you too and know you’re really looking forward to more. It will be a doozy, in terms of content, so I hope it’s worth the wait.
In horrifying news, BW is turning THREE YEARS OLD on March 13th. Kill me. (But not before I finish this fucking thing.)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ce61608ed74b89f2f7de3c45868b7a4d/7cc7402b1739d9db-60/s540x810/8e1c77abd27ac5e03c5cccbe79fc6dd8c6f4f419.jpg)
In the meantime, here are some answers to some Asks-------
Thank you so much for the very kind words. I’m so pleased that this story checks off so many of your boxes, and I’m relieved to know that the structure and methods I’ve chosen for storytelling have lent to a balanced narrative where you can appreciate both of these characters. I figure people don’t have to like each character equally, or at all. I just really want their choices make sense, for each character to have a distinct psychology, to have each action and reaction be believable, even if it is infuriating or illogical (it can still fall within the character’s internal logic, based on their own worldview). And I am so honored that this fic can serve as some inspiration for your own. God knows I have mine I go to on the reg when my stuff sucks and I can’t string two words together to save my life.
This is a deceptively silly question, I think (because I can’t keep anything simple). Working out together would be a nice little nostalgic throwback, wouldn’t it? I sometimes pop back to earlier chapters when they were in Baghdad and think about those times with a wistful smile. I think about the way they related, the way they looked, the relative lack of complications in their lives, and it’s such a profound departure from the way things are now.
Steve obviously has kept up his gym going with Matt. We’ve also seen that working out for him is about more than just being swole and hawt; it’s about control and regulating his emotions. And for Bucky, working out used to be a way of maintaining peak fitness for his career, which was one of the ways that he evaluated his self-esteem. If he was fit, he had value. Also, if he was fit, he was sexy, and we know that sexual capability is also one of the primary currencies he uses to determine his self-worth. He also used the construction of his physique as a way to develop his masculinity, the correct form of [gay] masculinity, rather than being a twink or a sissy. This was always a struggle against Bucky’s natural slim body composition, which has become his default again now that he’s been out of the military.
Now Bucky faces a couple of hurdles to exercise, whether he would do it for health or for building his physique. He has the challenges brought about by his many injuries - compromised grip in his left hand due to his massive forearm injuries and inconsistent rehabilitation efforts, ongoing pain in his right foot and a continued limp from that, significant back and hip pain due to very heavy load bearing and overcompensation from his foot injury. This would make it challenging for him to engage in any intense fitness program. What he really needs is to go back to physical therapy, and probably occupational therapy as well, but last time didn’t go so hot last time.
Even if he didn’t have to contend with his injuries, Bucky is at a bit of a crossroads in terms of how much energy he wants to put into rebuilding and maintaining his ideal physical self, which seems to be based on some prototype he picked up long ago (more on that in a future chapter). No chest hair, no body fat, muscles, a perfectly shaved asshole at all times… But he’s not 21 anymore. He has a boyfriend now. And even though he’d probably love to go to the gym to shoulder in on Steve’s time with Matt, I wonder if he would want to go for himself anymore. I wonder if going with Steve would be intimidating or make him feel pressured to fall back into his old patterns. Because now at least he has the excuse that he can’t lift heavy, that he can’t run, so he might as well not even try. But if he could, it would be interesting to see where his path would go as a 31-year-old man.
See? You thought it would be a simple “Yeah, there’re totes gonna go to the gym together, chapter 41, stay tuned!” or “No, probs not, I don’t think he’s much of a gym goer anymore.” Alas. I give no simple answers. This is why you have to wait 5 months for a BW chapter.
This is a good observation. Bucky loves himself a good drunk pizza. He also watches a lot of food-related TV when he drinks. Bucky has had to think a lot about food for various reasons. One is building muscle and physique when his body is telling him NO I WILL NOT. One is not eating so that he can get drunk faster. One is eating the right kind of diet so that he can have anal sex without having to worry about digestive issues (constipation, feeling too full, not being ‘ready,’ too much or too little shitting), which is a thing he would take seriously a hardcore bottom. I see things like pizza as a comfort food, family food, something Winnie would get for them every Friday night after they moved to New York. It’s a very emotional food for him, but he knows it’s “bad” for all of the aforementioned reasons, because it will make you fat and slow your buzz and stuff up your colon, so he might be most inclined to eat it when deep in a bender and doesn’t give a shit about those other things. Because Bucky not only drinks to forget and manage intense emotions, but he drinks also to just relax the relentless march of self-perpetuated, often absurd rules about what and who he is and what he can and should do. So yes, Bucky has some disordered eating, most of it functional, though a lot of his lack of eating recently is likely anxiety-related and/or stomach illness-related.
Another excellent observation. For those who might need a refresher, since this was in chapter 36:
The morning after Bucky shows up at Steve’s drunk and they have sex and many revelations are made about drinking during their relationship, Bucky gets honest about what happened the day before. He tells Steve: “I had my interview. It— I really don’t know how it went. I was so out of it. I’ve been so fucked up these past couple weeks. Just— it’s been bad. Really bad.” He tells the story of what happened at Scott’s. Steve asks why Bucky didn’t tell him he was struggling, and Bucky says that he didn’t want to get into it. Steve shifts in to talking about whether they should get back together.
I think there are a couple things here I could say. Yes, Bucky saying that he’s struggling is an example of some unusually straight-forward honesty that’s also a personal risk for himself. That’s a real measure of progress! But while I think this honesty is something that’s pretty new, the fact that he’s in a bad place mentally is not new information to Steve. I think back to the chapter before, after Bucky’s PT appointment with Luke, where he was clearly very distraught and having an extremely difficult time. Steve couldn’t get him to say what was happening then, but it was clear that it was something very major. So I don’t think this really felt to him like a major revelation, like Bucky’s really been holding it all together perfectly while imploding on the inside. I think this observation was more like, why didn’t you just TELL me you were struggling rather than having to have me wonder and then get wasted and come here drunk? Steve has a long history of asking Bucky if he’s okay and getting the brushoff. He’s probably starting to get tired of always asking and getting shot down.
Another part of your question is also very valid - is this the right time to get into a relationship?? Haha. Ha. Well, nobody said these two were good at making relationship decisions. But on a more serious note, Bucky having struggles is not only not new information for this month, it’s not new information for their relationship. Bucky has always had a secret life of pain that Steve has had to wonder about, ask about, beg to be let into, and he probably figures that one of the best ways he can affect change is if they’re in a romantic relationship. It will let him get close, give him some leverage, etc. So although it might come off as callous, Bucky’s struggles are the rule rather than the exception, and Steve probably figures he needs to get this relationship locked down so that he can get them into therapy and much-needed help.
Of course, there’s plenty of dramatic irony here, right? Steve doesn’t know what we know, which is that what Bucky is struggling with here is the REALLY BIG STUFF. He probably just thinks it’s his usual stuff. So. We’ll see where that goes. Bucky is going to maintain this illusion for as long as he possibly can.
Yes, @pitchforkcentral86 and I had several conversations about whether Bucky should have an animal. It’s a common trope in fic, and a joyful one to read. (Omg, I didn’t know about Alpine until now and I am thrilled!) And yes, service dogs, emotional support animals, therapy animals, pets, they can all be very healing, can provide meaning and purpose, and can also help to structure the lives of people who feel destabilized in various ways.
However, I have held back on giving Bucky an animal because a) his aforementioned history with animals, and b) I’m not sure if that’s what he needs at this point in his journey. I do really think Bucky has some sort of healing that needs to take place around animals. He loves animals. He loves nature and is a true soft boy (TM) who has been deeply hurt by his experiences. It was very inconsistent with his values to do the things he did, see the things he saw, and it’s so painful that he doesn’t know how to reconcile it.
But he’s in such a precarious place now emotionally, with such low resources, and he can barely even share the smallest pieces himself with other humans. People are a lot more complicated, yes, but animals are a lot of responsibility. He would be so hard on himself if he didn’t do a good job, if he didn’t react well to his animal companion, etc. And I think it would probably be more bang for his buck to devote that energy to trying to increasing his emotional intimacy with his partner or his sponsor or other important humans in his life who are asking for his trust. He could GO BACK TO THERAPY EVEN.
I do think something that would potentially be helpful and pretty low resource cost is to have a therapy animal in his life, like something he could go periodically, a therapy dog at the VA or something he could visit and pet once in a while. It would be a good start.
But that’s just my thinking for this character specifically. I think service/emotional support/therapy animals are wonderful and can create incredible bridges for people to improving their quality of life.
Well, that’s all for now! I will continue plugging away at BW and will get it to you as soon as I can. Thank you, as ever, for your patience! And thank you for the wonderful Asks <3 <3 <3
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iasip seasons ranked by how daddy the golden god is:
i WOULD like to clarify that daddy =/= hot and thus i can only answer as i’ve been bid!!! so, iasip by how daddy dennis is:
season 7: basically fat mac’s sugar daddy and regular daddy, kinda hot how he bosses him around and fosters his own crack addiction. a daddy always know what he’s about!
season 3: pretty daddy in the way he handles situations by taking charge. still looks twinky though so points have to be deducted, despite his daddy attitude
season 1: hes a dumb twink this season but also SO GAY and that makes him a daddy in my heart. “boys are out tonight, huh?” gets a million daddy points imo
season 10: drinks his bf under the table, gets medicated, tries to schedule jack-off sessions with his boyfriend, starts a cult just to see his bf work out. overall, a pretty daddy outlook on life!!
season 8: being a bitchboy for mac in dines out loses a LOT of points
season 11: mostly mac’s bitch this season but buying them a house in suburbs + being mac’s sugar daddy all episode makes up a lot of points, as does yelling about cats at maureen’s trial
season 6: cries all season that hes upper-class and Definitely Not Gay. hes so uncomfy in his own skin that its not very daddy-like, but he gets points for beefing up a bit and looking generally sexy
season 4: spends the whole season bitching that mac is bossing him around and trying to get mac to top him (which he does in s5, so at least it worked). overall, pretty bottom-esque and not very daddy
season 9: spends a lot of the season capitulating to either mac’s or dee’s will, also supports blackface. bullshit behavior for a so-called “daddy”
season 2: cries about getting a new dad, cries about getting addicted to crack, cries because his dad came back. overall it’s a bitchboy season!
season 12: thats not a daddy thats a corpse
season 5: hes a dumb bitch bottom sugar baby all season and that makes him the least daddy!!!
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Well, after giving it some thought, I did end up coming up with one idea. It definitely took a bit of a turn from the more wholesome, SFW route I was originally going for. I thought perhaps Crowley could be a sex worker who holds high standards for "looking presentable?" Like, he wishes he was able to eat more, but he has to put himself on such a tight diet because he knows his audience seems to like the red-headed twink look. Not like anorexia or anything. He has to keep himself thin and sculpted and does the whole ketosis thing I've heard that models do in order to stay thin. It can still be a story about body insecurity. He watches Aziraphale eat because he secretly finds the chubbiness sexy and wishes he could be so carefree with his own diet. Maintaining the body he has for so long gives him cravings that almost drive him to tears at times. What was once a fun line of work for him is starting to become a source of misery. And as you can imagine, if he's accidentally depriving his body of things it needs despite his best efforts to keep it healthy, it likely kills that... passion he once had for his work too.
In other words, Crowley watches Aziraphale's videos as both a source of comfort, and also as a way to torture himself. Originally, he searched for muckbang videos because everyone kept saying they were disgusting and will ruin your appetite. Turns out, Crowley doesn't find them disgusting. He's INTO them. He's a kinky bastard, but he thinks he might have found yet another kink he's into. And Aziraphale just does the muckbangs so well. He sometimes fantasizes about participating in his videos.
To be honest, I'm not sure what the set in stone rules are for corporations. That sort of seems like something that's left to interpretation. To be honest though, this is kind of why human AUs are so interesting in this fandom. How would these characters cope in the human world? I personally believe Crowley and Aziraphale would be neurodivergent, and not to sound like a crazy fan, but I've come to find that I have a LOT in common with Crowley personally (which might be why he's my fav). I know what it's like to have people resent you whether it's because you're too unconventional or managing to please the right person. Being ND and managing to do something right just seems to have that affect, if you know what I mean? It's hard to explain, but the fact that Crowley can come off as competent but also doesn't act like a normal demon definitely pisses some other demons off. On top of that, in a human au, the fact that he's attractive might not help. People WILL get jelly. I'd like to (well, maybe not LIKE to) believe that Crowley gets harassed because he is a thin, attractive male. As a thin, NB human myself who I guess has been considered attractive to some, I know how much it can suck to get that sort of harassment... I understand that our society has a horrible tendency to shit all over fat people, but being very thin can come with its own problems too. Especially if you're a guy. And if Crowley is openly gay and genderfluid on top of that, this can come with obstacles as well. I truly think this poor guy would face some issues as a human because humans really suck.
Especially because of guys like Gabriel. He'd be a fucking douche. That's for sure.
If Crowley likes watching Aziraphale eat, would that mean he's into muckbang?
I've got a feeling there exists a fanfic about this.
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//I have had a terrible and soul searching week in which my physical and mental health teamed up to rebel against me. Dylan O’brien is alive and well in the RSA and that’s all I got today, boo. And we had pizza day at work. You want a quick Damon/Dylan headcanon? // lol same to all, except I didn't get a pizza day, I got to go to a funeral. Massive yes to Damon/Dylan. Or Hoech/Dylan 😁
Been there, boo, way too many times. Stay strong.
So I’ve been thinking a lot about this picture:
We talk a lot about bb!Dylls (lil Dyll pickle!), but we don’t talk a lot about bb!Damon. And I think it’s because at this point we still don’t know a lot about who he is, but I like to imagine he was a young kid who met an older man that took him under his wing. That they realized they might not make the best couple, but Damon was young and hungry and could perhaps help out on set and be discreet with the things that happened behind the scenes.
He wasn’t a famewhore, he simply loved the environment. He saw enough Hollywood True Stories to know he didn’t want to become one, and knew enough people who made a decent living without ended up on the splash screen of TMZ.
But maybe not enough people? May he didn’t have enough contacts to fully know when something shady was going on during filming. Maybe he didnt’ have enough experience to fully understand the reason behind Jeff’s contempt for Hoechlin or why he was always so wary of Colton. What he did know was that this opportunity was a way to make some new friends while learning the ins and outs of the business
Where Damon lacked this 6th sense, what he did have was superb peripheral vision. Head on he might miss the more pettier nuances, but in his side eye he could see everything. Like a closet case facing immense pressure from their management and family. And the against type twink with the gigantic crush on him.
Some called it chemistry. To the naked eye it was playing off one another, jokes and stories about baseball. It was hero worship at its finest, it was mentorship and a big brother program all at once. The two were only separated by 4 years, but one was a teen and one was an “adult” and it was enough to put aside the thought of any sexual impropriety and firmly encamp their relationship in more of a… scout master/scout type of setting.
Damon knew better. His own age was settled firmly between the two and he could see the twinkle in the older’s eyes every time the boy came into the room. And he could see the wonderment that rained over the boy when the young man graced his presence. They subconsciously felt each other, gravitating effortlessly to one another, not needing to say a single word, sharing nothing but a coy eye before bursting into laughter.
And there were the touches. There were always touching each other. Sport’s touches. Little ways guys had to justify their intimacy to each other. Nevermind that each slap on the ass was really a pat or “playful” squeezing, disregard that the hit to the chest was actually a caress. Ignore the fact that while Hoechlin often referred to Dylan as a “teammate” or “buddy”, he never once said little bro, never implied the familial, never put up a fence that he would only later have to tear down.
And Dylan? Dylan was a revelation to Damon. Ultimately shy and anxious while at the same time being extremely comfortable and open when he got to know you. And he knew you quickly and trusted his instinct. He knew who was going to hurt him and he was mature enough to know how much he could take before he had to let go. And for the things he didn’t know? He’d find a way to ask. Not directly. He never asked Damon to kiss him, to fix his pout when he went down on him; he never asked Damon how to “gay”, not directly. But when he and Damon met, somehow Dylan knew instantly that Damon would be his training ground. And Damon was glad for the assignment.
Now, let’s not be mistaken. This wasn’t done with malice. Damon wasn’t a plaything that Dylan thought he could use and throw out. There was a respect there, a near reverence. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew Damon was on a break after the Jeff stuff. He knew that Damon didn’t want anything long term, but also didn’t want to overuse his Grindr app. Damon was soft spoken and a kind soul, but he had a straightforward wit and cunning that Dylan instantly took to. He’d made fun of Damon’s gauges and Damon just grinned and shrugged and said “well, who doesn’t like a pair of black studs?” while throwing a saucy wink at the boy. Dylan gave his trademarked open mouthed laughed and Damon licked his while watching the boy’s mouth. He was complimentary and Dylan liked that. He was tall and sweet and Dylan liked that too. And most importantly he was game. And discreet. Dylan liked that most of all.
Dylan appreciated the leers he would feel when he knew absolutely no one else was watching. When people tried to pat him on the head, he knew Damon was looking at his ass. When others tried to talk about how cute he was, Damon would growl at him playfully and call him sexy. Dylan knew he meant it. He appreciated that Damon could see beyond the baby fat of his cheeks and recognize the impressive growth in his groin. If Damon could see him that way, maybe someday Hoechlin would too.
What Damon knew, but Dylan didn’t is that Hoechlin already saw Dylan that way, and artfully ignored it. That’s for later though. This starts after the night at Fruit Alley
They toast and dance and both are surprised at the other’s ability to move. Dylan’s hips are extremely pliant and Damon can easily pick up Dylan and wrap his legs around his waist and Damon is swinging him around the dance floor and Dylan shouts in his ear above the music, “I think I would be a top!”
Damon laughs, shocked and drops Dylan who looks confused at first but then shakes his head laughing. “No, not right now, I just mean, in general!” He tries to explain, but Damon is a bit drunk and can’t hear over the thumpa thumpa of the club and all he can see is Dylan throw up his hands and mouth “fuck it!” and then Dylan’s mouth is on Damon’s mouth and they grind on each other in the club.
And Damon is clean shaven, but Dylan still runs his mouth against Damon’s jaw, no doubt with someone else’s in mind, and he moves up to his ear and says, “We should get out of here. Talk about the topping thing, I have a lot of… research I wanna do.” and Dylan pulls back.
What stops Damon isn’t the obvious red flag of a young twink ready to wild out with a few drinks under his belt and a hazy gaze. It’s the fact that when Dylan pulls back Damon’s expecting a cocky put on and bi bravado and what he gets instead are wide, curious eyes asking explicitly for permission. Cock, but not for connections, for confidence, for coin, but… cock for consent. This is something that still existed, but Damon has been in Hollywood long enough to forget it and that scares him. But Dylan gives him hope. Because if he has this then he can keep it, he can hang on to it. He’s gonna get his heart broken, Damon can tell, but maybe Damon can show Dylan how to take it without breaking completely.
“Dylan, you’re not going to fuck me.” Damon says resolutely as Dylan’s eyes fall. He tucks a finger under his chin and kisses him assuredly. “Not tonight. This is it for tonight. And when you’re ready… we’ll try something new.”
Dylan smiles at Damon and Damon smiles back.
Later that night he drops him off at the apartment Dylan shares with Posey and Hoechlin. Posey’s light is out which means he’s either asleep or spending the night at some girl’s house. They have the next day off so Damon is betting the latter. Hoechlin is downstairs by the dumpster talking heatedly into his phone. He’s arguing with someone, probably his girlfriend, though it could be an agent, his tone doesn’t waiver much between the two. Dylan can’t take his eyes off of him. He sighs, but it’s not defeated, it’s… patient. He turns to Damon and reaches over squeezing Damon’s hand. He nods his thanks and piles out. He doesn’t head towards the dumpsters, but instead goes to the door. He stills for a moment. He knows Hoechlin sees him, but Hoechlin acts like he doesn’t, keeps on with the call. Dylan finally goes inside and Damon drives off. As he goes he looks in his rearview mirror and sees Hoechlin watching him, without expression.
He heads to Colton’s apartment. Colton is a sassy bitch and a fun drunk. They’ll shoot the shit and Damon will tell him all of his secrets and Colton will drunkenly forget and he’ll say the night was a good night, but he can’t wait for Monday.
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Freshman Fatties: Chapter 4
Winter break was drawing to a close and Andy and Benjamin were itching to see one another after almost a full month apart. They had texted nonstop during this time, keeping each other updated on everything that happened.
Andy had put on another ten pounds before returning home and was looking properly chunky with a beer gut that rivaled most men twice his age. Naturally his parents were a bit surprised and expressed concern. Andy reassured them he was simply bulking up over the winter and would shed it all in the spring, which meant he would be eating bigger at every meal while he was in town. He knew this wasn’t entirely true but it seemed to please Benjamin, who loved receiving naked pics and updates on how much he was eating. Andy found it curious, but relished the attention he received from Benjamin. He’d never been with a girl that was so infatuated with his body and Benjamin made his new fattened form feel manlier than ever.
Benjamin too had continued to puff up, but received a different reaction from his family. They were full of compliments, congratulating him on the fact that he had finally “filled out.” Benjamin wasn’t trying to gain weight, but his appetite had grown from being around Andy and he couldn’t resist all of the holiday treats laying around. Out of boredom he also started back up at the gym a few times a week, paying special attention to his ass.
Benjamin was the first to return to campus, arriving to a musty dorm room that smelled like dirty men’s underwear. He realized they forgot to leave the windows open and attempted to air out the room. He unpacked his clothes and set out a scale he had swiped from his parents house. Nervously, he stepped on board to discover he had gained a whopping thirty pounds since starting college, ten of which were over winter break. That number left him a little shocked, as he didn’t feel that fat. Andy had really left an impression.
When Andy arrived in town a few days later Benjamin had the dorm sparkling clean and packed with delicious foods. He lay in bed reading, wearing only his underwear and a snug T-shirt. Despite all the pictures Andy had shared, Benjamin was still worried the jock would return shrunken and fit.
As the lock to the door turned, Benjamin’s heart began to race. The door swung open and Andy struggled to get inside. A mammoth duffle bag hung from one arm, a bag of groceries in the other, and at his midsection wobbled a firm beach bull of a gut hanging dramatically out of a faded black tee. Benjamin’s eyes dilated at the sight of the man before him. Andy had really put on weight, his texts did not lie. He had never seen the football player so large before. Andy dropped his bags and the two ran into a big embrace. After a long kiss, Benjamin stepped back and put his hands on each side of Andy’s massive gut.
“Look at you!”
“What can I say? I’m a growing boy!” the jock cracked a massive grin causing his double chin to fold.
Benjamin helped Andy unpack while two pizzas baked in the oven and two bottles of champagne chilled in the fridge. Once finished, Andy plopped on his bed exhausted from the activity.
“God my thighs have been chafing like shit lately,” he sighed.
“Let me see,” Benjamin spread the jock’s thighs revealing a bright red rash. “Ouch. Well, I do have a little Christmas gift for you if that makes you feel better.”
“As do I, little one.”
The two exchanged small wrapped presents and opened them simultaneously. Andy held up his shirt and a gift card to a fancy restaurant fell onto his lap, while Benjamin held up a designer jock strap.
“I’m not sure how it’ll fit,” they said in unison and then blushed.
Andy squeezed into his shirt, which was tight but could still button. He looked sharp in it, but undeniably swollen with fat. Andy tucked himself into the jock strap which fit perfectly, showing off the work he’d accomplished on his glutes. Even still his ass was covered in a soft layer of fat that eclipsed the strapping under each cheek.
“God DAMN, that ass!” Andy exclaimed smacking his roommate on the rear and watching it bounce. “I cannot wait to get inside there!”
Benjamin giggled and smooched Andy, who pulled the thick twink onto his chubby lap. They kissed once more and Benjamin caressed the jock’s cheek, admiring how it had become puffier in the last month. Resting beneath Andy’s square jaw was a pouch of fat covered in dense scruff that Benjamin lightly tickled with his finger.
“I was thinking…” Benjamin began, “We could wear our sexy new gear to a fancy dinner on this gift card. We can even drive out of town a bit if that makes you more comfortable.”
“Well, I was thinking that perhaps that’s not necessary,” Andy replied coquettishly.
Unsure and afraid of rejection, Benjamin stared at his counterpart in silence.
“Because,” Andy continued, “I was thinking that maybe we could go as a couple. You know, like boyfriends? Officially.”
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