#i mean big boys with a little chub

[slipknot-sic-0]

ok SOMEONE reblogged a post abt beefy men and i can’t fucking find it anywhere anymore. i’m so pissed, so to my fellow mutual who loves beefy men. like big boys, not like muscular, like BEEF yk… i respect you. my heart goes out to you. we are bonded in a way no other person can understand <33

[piratefishmama]

I Wish | Part 3

He barely recognised his friends. He was just glad they were themselves though. That somewhere along the way to a stardom he didn’t remember going through, his band hadn’t lost anyone. That someone hadn’t been replaced.

That happened a lot, didn’t it? Bands losing members due to circumstance, arguments over direction, infighting... but they were there. Older, Gareth had a little grey in his hair, Jeff had shaved his down completely, he didn’t have braces anymore, taller too, neither as weathered as Eddie but… definitely older, and Dougie...

Fuck, he'd slimmed down.

Eddie didn’t know if that was an improvement or not, he instantly found himself missing what had once been, he was still big, still broad, but... where disarming chub that Eddie had on more than one occasion fallen asleep on had been, soft muscle resided in its place and Eddie found himself wondering just how the biggest of four of them had done it. Whether it'd been through healthy choices or godawful ones like himself.

It was muscle though, it looked like healthy muscle, so... probably healthier than him. Good for him.

“Oh look who's joined us in the land of the living!” Gareth chirped, his mouth half full of pancake, syrup dripping down his lips.

Jeff, to his left “Saw Louie stormin out kicking up a storm, that shit for good this time?” Asked with a tone laced in caution, as if the subject was touchy. God what had Eddie done in the past that made his friends think they couldn’t rib him about relationships?

That was like... their whole thing back in high school, Eddie, and his disastrous non-existent dating life. He’d trusted them and them alone with who he was, with what he liked, and while there were the obvious ‘do you find me hot?’ questions at first, the playful ribbing, the teasing, the jokes only friends could share… he had them. They weren’t afraid of him. Afraid to hurt him because they knew they never could.

How had he lost that?

Eddie looked to Steve in a bid for help, Steve wasted no time in coming to his aid “One can only hope” with obvious exhaustion in his retort, his hands on his hips, a deadpan expression that Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling at.

Gareth snorted a little laugh and followed with “Amen to that, dude.”

“He’ll be back though, he always is.” Dougie piped up around his own bite full of some oat concoction, it looked gross. “Once he sees his job offers dry u—what?” The other two were giving it the kill signal, twin expressions of panic, as if he’d said too much… god who was he? “You fuckers know I’m right, Eddie knows I’m right, he’s a clout chasing pretty boy riding Eddie’s coattails to fame, just cause you’re too chicken shit to say anything to him doesn’t mean I am.”

Eddie looked to Steve again as Dougie spoke, only to receive a silently raised brow in return, he was on his own. “Well—” Eddie began, the other three froze, even Dougie’s attention was on him now, all three clearly expecting something “not anymore! Dunno what I saw in him, but I’m done, Steve, if you would… uhm… make sure he can’t contact me again?”

“Want me to block his number?”

“What?” Eddie whispered behind his hand, brows furrowed in confusion, block? A number? What?

“I’ll sort it.” Steve would sort it, and of that Eddie had zero doubts. He wouldn’t doubt the genie about anything ever again. Louie and his overly manicured entire self would never darken his doorstep again, of that he was certain.

“Holy shit, who are you and where did Eddie go?” The panic gone, Gareth seemed genuinely surprised by his declaration. He'd missed too much, too many things he didn’t know, too many things he’d done that he couldn’t apologise for because he didn’t know what he'd be apologising for. it'd be cheap, it'd be pointless.

Eddie hated everything. He could have probably lived with it, with his lost time, had this not been his first experience of the day with people he recognised. He couldn’t. Not like this. Not with his friends looking at him like he were a bomb ready to go off.

He could put on a brave face though, even if the muscles in his face felt foreign, even if he felt tired... he could act the part. “Turnin over a new leaf I guess... self reflection, new path, bachelor life never hurt me too bad, right?” His friends shared looks, a silent communication happening between them that made Eddie feel isolated, othered, outside, and alone.

He wanted out. To run.

And as if he knew, Steve’s hand found his shoulder and squeezed grounding him in place. He was there, the Genie was there, he'd fix it if Eddie wished him to. He wasn’t stuck, Steve just wanted him to live the day. Experience it. Be brave, it wasn’t permanent.

Jeff broke the silence though, he stood up, crossed the distance between them, that gigantic chasm that seemed so impossible to cross seconds before, and clapped his hands to both of Eddie's biceps, his straight toothed smile blinding “nice to have you back then, Eds, now eat your fuckin breakfast an let’s get this stupid talk show shit over with, yeah?” Okay... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Fuck the ‘old' Eddie, the Eddie who Eddie himself had never met and never wanted to meet, he had his friends, he'd be fine. Maybe he could even stay.

“Sounds good, what's for breakfast?”

“For you? Nothin but the good stuff, man, ordered you some wholemeal toast with avocado an egg whites” so many words, so little recognition in his eyes.

What the fuck was an avocado? Was that a real thing?

“...Can I not have pancakes like Gareth?” Gareth with his syrupy monstrosity.  

Dougie scoffed around his oatmeal, swallowing before he responded because at some point during the last thirty years he’d developed manners. “With your cholesterol? Fuck off, dude, we don’t want you having a heart attack on stage.” Steve only offered him a sympathetic smile in consolation. The beautiful bastard. “It's avocado toast or oatmeal, your choice old man.”

Strike being able to stay. He wanted to go home.

Eddie didn’t like Avocados.

He decided this the moment a semi-hard glob of green mush touched his tongue, lightly seasoned, mixed with something tangy, he hated it, hated the smell, hated the unexpected texture, hated the taste but he ate it. He pushed through like a little champ when every instinct he had told him to rebel against it, to demand French fries or something stupid that definitely didn’t come as a breakfast food.

Maybe he could swing fast food later, see what the future held for the fast food joints.

Later seemed too busy though, the moment they were done with breakfast, the band were whisked away into some kind of car, something way fancier than Eddie had ever seen, to get to the venue and prepare. Hair, makeup, the usual routine that Eddie wished he had an ounce of experience with because back at the Hideout it was just… them climbing up on the rickety old stage Bev’s late husband put together on the fly and letting loose.

There was no pre-gig warming up, no hoard of professionals tugging them into various chairs and rooms to make sure their hair was the correct brand of artful frizz, or mess of floof, or women with brushes coated in powders to minimize the shine from the studio lights that’d make their skin too shiny for the cameras to work with.

Wardrobe was fool proof as they were presented with options that ranged from smart casual to red carpet. Everything suitable for a talk show and nothing fit for a ‘metal’ band, which was strange considering they were advised to go for something they could move in as they were going to be performing during their run through, maybe more than once to make sure all angles were covered.

It was a lot, it was a hell of a lot, Eddie kept finding Steve in his peripherals though. Always there, silent, and observant off to the side, close enough to step in should anyone cross any boundaries but staying out of the way of the professionals so they could work unhindered.

It was grounding in a way, him there, even if he looked so very human despite what he knew Steve to really look like, having him there, knowing the man could get him out of the chaos at any time was grounding.

All those people touching him, all the noise around him, sounds, smells, lights, the pushing, and pulling, and the tugging on his hair, he wanted to scream, he wanted to get away from it all, he wanted—

“Alright, five minute break.” Steve stepped in, his voice firm, without room for argument. “Rockstar needs a breather.” Eddie could have kissed him, genuinely. The relief as all those professionals took a few steps back was instantaneous, that feeling only growing when Steve managed to corral them out of the room entirely, leaving just them in there.

The other band members were in their own rooms, Eddie clearly some ‘big shot’ that he didn’t quite get. Sure he was the front man but… they always said they’d be equals if they made it big. They’d always scoffed at the idea of multiple green rooms, of putting single members on pedestals, that was how shit went sideways, that was how infighting and breaking apart happened. They’d stay grounded, stay real.

They didn’t want that bullshit and yet there he was. All on his own, his friends elsewhere being prepped without him. He hated it. How had it happened? “I should be used to this, shouldn’t I?”

“What makes you think that?” Eddie damn near jumped out of his skin when Steve was just. Right there. Stood beside him in the reflection of the mirror. No longer looking all that human, he looked like himself, golden and beautiful, wearing the clothes he first saw him in.

When he turned around, the human looked back at him, smiling as if he knew what Eddie was looking for. Reflections showed the truth then. Interesting.

“I’m—fuck that's a cool trick, man... but i'm a fuckin rockstar! I should be, I dunno… used to it.” At the very least his old man brain should have caught up by now, right? He should have gotten used to it all, muscle memory of thirty years having passed should have at least kicked in a little, right?

He still felt like that kid from the trailer park on the inside, still felt completely overwhelmed.

He’d just been dropped into a life with no memory of living it.

“Who said you ever got used to it?” Steve hadn’t said that. In fact Steve had painted a pretty sad story of addiction and self-destruction. “Eddie… some people aren’t meant for this kind of life, yes, you’re very talented, you’re absolutely good enough to get this far, and once you’re on stage you are incredible—” for a moment, just a moment, Eddie felt warmth, a teeny sprinkle of warm pleasure trickle through his weary soul at the easily spoken praise. “The weariness fades away and you’re… yourself, everything that you are shines through and it’s breathtaking.” Eddie really did try not to blush, but he felt the heat in his cheeks anyway, as it turned out, older men could definitely be flustered by a cute guy thoughtlessly praising them “but the rest of it… everything that goes along with it… not that I’m an expert or anything, but I don’t believe it’s who you are.”

“I can’t just adapt?” All Steve offered was that similar look of sympathy he’d had in the bathroom back at the hotel. No… no Eddie knew the answer before he’d even asked it. He’d never been able to adapt. “Why?”

“If it helps at all, there’s millions of people out there who feel seen whenever you talk about your struggles with what happens behind the glamour, so many people who love you and support you for the very things that make you struggle so much, for the fact that you keep going, you made it despite them. I’m not going into the why’s and the how’s, but adapting really isn’t something you’re very good at, Eddie, there’s no changing that. You get overwhelmed, that’s just you.”

“Can I wish to change it?” Did he even want to? Not really, something told him it’d backfire somehow, not by Steve’s design, not on purpose, but… it just would.

“You can… I can work my magic, but you wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be the person your friends love, the louder than life DnD loving nerd, you wouldn’t be that anymore, and I like that person, he’s very sweet, so I really don’t want to.” There it was. At least Steve wasn’t just letting him make that mistake. “There’s a life out there that is perfect for you, and trust me you will find it, this just isn’t it. Do you want to go home?” Steve wasn’t going to force him to stay, he wanted Eddie to experience it for this very reason, to see the truth behind one of his biggest dreams, see the chaos behind the curtain of a life that maybe he just wasn’t suited to.

He could go home if he wanted to, but… “No. Not yet. I wanna experience it, just once, y’know? Even if it’s gonna suck, I think you were right, I think I need to.” If only to really drive it home that maybe fame and fortune wasn’t everything.

That maybe he didn’t have to be famous, maybe he didn’t have to be some metal legend, he could just… be. And that would be okay.

“Got it.”

“Will I at least know the song we’re meant to be performing here?” Given how little he knew about his present self, the very real possibility of his music having evolved, of new songs being written, it was an issue he really should have thought about by now, but Steve snapped his fingers, an otherwordly light flashing in his hazel eyes for the briefest of moments, and then he smiled.

“You will now.” And that made him feel a little better. Just a little. Until the chaos continued and the professionals filed back in to finish their jobs, the five minutes up.

Part 5

[th3fam1lyd1ssap01ntm3nt]

RAAAAAHHHHHHH hello :3!!!

I am

Wondering if you would be ever so kind,,,

To write the monster au(or the hybrid au) of TF141 and I was like oh,,, Gaz no on list,,, who else,,, Johnny. Request thee Johnny, you could add the others for funsies as well, I don't mind the werewolf Johnny I like hims a lot as ,, but like, imagine, Male!user(I don't know what we call him erm male whatever the fuck his name is idk the WHORE sorry he's not maybe? Maybe he is actually idk it's male reader around those sluts 😠😠/HJ....) who usually kept his hybrid features hidden for god knows what reason because it's him??? He's just?? He's a little silly, but like "omg a human on the team grrr!!!" Is reaction from almost everyone until they warm up to him later and then he's just revealed as a moth hybrid :3 moth man, he squeaks when angry because moths can squeak and that's very interesting to me :3 and he just itty bitty plush like and plush size and shorter than them, but yeah they angry thinking he human, get close to the "human", they wake up early one morning, see the man they thought was human, but is a moth hybrid, standing in the kitchen, deadass staring into the kitchens light for god knows how long he was standing there, antennas just out as he's focused on the light, not even noticing them standing beside him, he's just staring at the light until someone turns that shit off and then he's just back like " ! " "When did you wake up???" Like .

PLLEAAAASEEEEEE PLEAAASEEEEEEEEE PPPLLLLEEAAAASEEEEEEEE I BEG FOR HIM TO HAVE SOME CHUB TO HIM I BEG FOR MOTH MALE READER WHO USES HE HIM PRONOUNS FOR THE HYBRID/MONSTER AU TF141 LEMSJWJSJS I want chubby male ones to be loved☹️

Have a wonderful day yahhhh‼️‼️‼️

RRAAAAHHH MY FIRST ASK!!!! (Omfg tysm u don’t know how happy this makes me :3 )

Lemme get this straight.. a moth hybrid! male reader x Werewolf! Johnny (Soap) Mactavish?? Ill see what i can do!!

(Inspired by the Monster AU by whisperrwarm on X, when I say INSPIRED I mean, not everything is the same!)

Characters:

John (Soap) Mactavish: A Werewolf

Simon (Ghost) Riley: A Wendigo

Captain John Price: A Dragon

Male Y/N: A Moth

Just a cute wee pudgy lad :3

Tw: Swearing, suggestive content, Male x Male

Since Anonymous wanted M! Y/N to be pudgy, I imagine that he would have the shape of something like this:

Moth Dust

(A Johnny (Soap) Mactavish x Male! Reader fic)

You, LN, FN, (last name, first name), who would have thought out of all possibilities of hybrids, you would be a moth. Not that its a bad thing, it was just rather annoying though.. you were picked on constantly because of it, your hight, your looks, and what made you insecure the most, your weight.

Not that you were huge, but you were fun sized, the perfect love handles, and the loveliest thing of all, your thick thighs. Aye, its like they say, ‘Thick Thighs Save Lives!’ You tend to hide your moth features though, fearing that a hybrid with predatoristic features might harm you.

I mean.. c’mon, you were a moth and there were damned stronger mutants out there.. its like the food chain with normal animals, and as embarrassing as it was, many things ate bugs. And what are you a hybrid of? A bug. Well.. a domesticated silk moth to be more specific, but still!

Being a moth you were fluffy and small, and well.. adorable. But you never though of yourself as that short.. until you joined the military that is-

“Bloody fucking christ! How fucking big does a man need to be here?!?” You thought to yourself once you actually saw how large the men in Task Force 141 where. There was one in particular who stood intimidated you from his height, Simon Riley, better known here as Ghost, and he stood a strong 6’2”!!

He could easily fucking squish you like the bug you are if he wanted! You were intimidated by the other men slightly, I mean, c’mon! Your captain is a fuckin Dragon for Christ sake!

But wow… boy were they lookers though- there was one in particular who stood out to you the most, he looked like a dog hybrid, but that didn’t seem right for some reason? What stood out to you the most was those elegant.. enticing.. wonderful blue eyes… wait. What the hell? Were you staring? Oh shit, didn’t anyone see you staring at him?

Your mind was racing at the thought of being caught staring. “Did anyone see that? Shit- did he see that?!” You thought to yourself, more like mentally screamed at yourself, but still..

(Not finished, currently busy, will finish soon!)

[prettydeadwriter]

Bolin x Plus Size!Reader

a / n : in this mini HCS it's mainly just how I think he'd be with a plus size / overweight reader !! I'm personally plus size / overweight n thought this would be a sweet little treat for the other bigger people who love this dork

I will say this is kinda all over the place. it's 4:30 am, I'm sleepy and shaky bc of insomnia n this is mainly just some sweet fluff. most is just them in their relationship too :3

Let's be honest this boy will love just about anyone. doesn't matter looks as much as it does personality.

when he first meets you how you hold yourself — whether confident or shy — he takes interest!! this boy bout falls in love with you when you hug him for the first time months into the blooming friendship.

Bolin can understand insecurity. he sometimes feels he isn't enough either so if you're insecure about your chubby body, or your possibly any part of your body that you've deemed 'too big', he's very understanding and suggests talking to him about it.

he really cares, he wants to be there for you like you are for him so when he notices this insecurity he's quick to tell you he's there.

"just so you know, you can always talk to me you know?"

once you feel comfortable telling him about these insecurities — if you have them — he's listening with a caring stare and a hand on yours as he listens so intently. he never forgets what you said and always tries to pay attention to the parts you're insecure about, said parts becoming his absolute favorites when he looks at you.

if you're not insecure he doesn't mind either!!! he loves that you view yourself so well and that it doesn't affect you!! it makes him extremely happy that you're comfortable in your own skin because it means you're not struggling with this specific part. if you struggle occasionally and Bolin learns of this he's quick to come to comfort and remind you how pretty you are.

dates are fun!! he loves park dates but he prefers a nice date at home. don't get him wrong he loves going out to eat, he loves showing you off even more. but having the comfort of sitting on the couch, eating something homemade or takeout, maybe a mover is put on or you're both listening to the radio while cuddling.

Bolin himself , in my opinion , has a bit of a chub on his belly. it's more like muscle that's soft that looks like chub than actual chub/fat but still. he almost giggles if you like to play with his 'chub', even finds it affectionate when you do it and often will give you kisses in return

his favorite activity ever to do is to cook together. personally I don't think he's a great cook, ask him to cook something and it's likely a little burnt but he can boil water!! though seriously he's an ok cook, he's better at being the one to chop things up and let you cook than being the one seasoning or mixing things up.

he loves to hold you from behind with his hands holding your sides softly while he rocks you both side to side as you'd focus on cooking the meal. he'd finished prepping all the ingredients for you a couple moments ago and now continued his routine of cuddling you, rocking side to side like her always did. it was always comforting and a nice way to spend time together.

he loves to be the big spoon with you!! he loves to hold you close and softly pepper the back of your neck in kisses as he focuses on helping you fall right to sleep.

to be continued maybe :3

uhmmm this is kinda short iggg

please like + reblog if you wanna, I appreciate anything that comes my way

this'll be reposted on AO3 once I get an acc since it'll take till april 14th for me to get the invite so ugh,,

otherwise - ask to repost my works , I may be willing to officially repost them myself but yea!!

hope you all enjoyed this, good night 🫶🏻

[bucknastysbabe]

Walk your talk

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: Bucky survives and settles down back in New York. His wife discovers at SSR Bucky has been ahem- exaggerating around the lunch table. Punishment ensues. A good boy should know to keep his mouth shut. Right?

Tags: Period typical sexism, Bucky pretends to be tuff™️ but is the biggest sub in the universe, SSR gang reunited and by that I only mean Peg n Sousa are allowed, men wearing panties, chubby!subby!bucky, dom!reader, pnv!sex, orgasm denial, SO MUCH TEASING, subspace, Bucky just wants to be the best boy to ever, kinda fluffy, aftercare

A/N: This was already in the bullpen hahaha BTTOH is about 75% done. Writing full ass chapters confuddles me but it’s about GROWTH. Also I love sub chub buck

1952

Bucky worked at the Strategic Scientific Reserve. He was a top dog— the heroic best friend of the dear Captain America and famed Howling Commando. He’d been working there since he lost his arm in the war. Howard Stark had since designed him a new one with some plans he said ‘certainly were not smuggled from a Nazi bunker’. He was happily married and recovering day by day.

Bucky’s pretty little wife was perfect. She never complained, and made his lunch for him every day. His coworkers would jab about Bucky having her under his thumb— how he probably gave it to her good. He’d laugh and go along with the talk, shrugging off their questions. Peggy would hound him about defending her honor and he figured he should before it got out of hand. He didn’t really prioritize that…being on a new case and all.

To Bucky’s consternation, it got out of hand as predicted. He was at a company cocktail party on Stark’s fancy pool property. He warmly smiled at his best girl, a big hand resting on the small of her back. She nuzzled his shoulder and cooed, “C’mon big guy, when are you going to let me meet some of these men? I’ve had an earful every night.” He shook his head with a laugh, calling over Johnson and Krzeminski. The pair of men were tipsy and goofily strode over.

Bucky introduced her, “Hey boys this is the wife!She’s interested in putting a face to the two who get on my damn nerves.” He pointed at the tall blonde, “That arrogant bastard is Johnson, and the lerch there is Krzeminski.” She airily laughed, a beautiful noise to Bucky. The woman teased, “Oh hush, I’m sure you two are perfectly ordinary!”

Krzeminski guffawed before slurring, “Ah Barnes I see why you kept her hidden. You’re a gem!”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as she blushed and laughed it off.

Ray continued as he elbowed Johnson, “Yeah, Barnes has told us all about you. I wish my wife took obeying so seriously, lemme’ get her over my knee for once.” The blonde chuckled lowly, eyeing the confused lady. Bucky intervened, “Alright. Thanks boys, we’re going to get something to drink now. Maybe some water for you Ray.” He clutched the man’s shoulder in a facsimile of warmth but gripped roughly, causing Krzeminski to wince in pain.

Bucky led his other half away internally cringing at his coworkers words. He should’ve nipped this in the bud earlier. She looked up at him, a sharp brow lifting up in question. Bucky stuttered to respond but she held up a hand. She asked, “What was that all about dear? What did you tell them?”

Bucky ran a hand over his brow and replied, “Y’know how guys get— just talk.”

“Just talk about our sex life? I guess you didn’t tell them the truth.”

Her painted lips turned into a frown, sending his heart to cracking. Bucky mumbled, “They worship the ground I walk on and I just got carried away— m’sorry sweetheart.” She rolled her eyes and looked up at his sorrowful blues. Her manicured hand reached up to thumb at his reddened cheeks.

“I understand. Maybe shut any future talk down baby,” her soft gaze hardened, “I doubt they want to know what happens when you misbehave. Who really gets taken over the knee, hm?” Bucky’s mouth gaped like a fish, his full cheeks flushing further at his baby’s words. He gulped, “N-no sweetheart, m’so sorry.” Bucky’s skin crawled as shame licked up his spine. He shifted in place, looking away from his wife’s piercing stare. He was in the dog house now.

“I think we need to head home Bucky-bear. Obviously you need a punishment for behavior like this.” A strangled noise leapt out of Bucky’s throat at her words. He didn’t need to be punished— Bucky just wanted to be her good boy but was doing poorly at that. She cooed, “Poor baby. You’ll be fine. Now go say your goodbyes.”

Bucky frowned and stalked off, saying sullen goodbyes to the partygoers. He waved off Sousa and Peggy asking about his mood, scurrying to the car instead. His wife waited in the passenger side, idly checking her nails. Bucky got in the two-door, avoiding her pointed gaze. She spoke softly, “I’m really disappointed in you sweetheart. I wouldn’t even speak, much less lie about our sex life to coworkers.” The brunette’s throat bobbed with emotion.

“It was messed up, I shouldn’t do that. M’sorry.”

Her voice cut him like a blade when she responded, “Sorry isn’t cutting it tonight. When I get out of my shower at home I expect you on the bed wearing your pretty things. Bad boy.”

Bucky whimpered.

“‘M not a bad boy,” he weakly protested. His face was red from embarrassment with hot tears welling up. His metal hand creaked against the steering wheel. She patted his thigh, giving it a squeeze as she teased, “You haven’t been acting like my best boy Buck. Don’t worry, I’ll get you sorted out.” He whined lowly, his dick traitorously jumping at her mean words and soft touch.

The rest of the drive she maddeningly stroked and gripped at his thigh. Bucky felt an oncoming haze at the edges of his mind— blurring and scrambling his thoughts. His cock was full to bursting, stuffed uncomfortably in his slacks. Bucky whined through his nose at the pain. She cooed, hand traveling up his thigh to brush against his need. He swallowed down a mewl.

“You’re something else. Getting hard when you’re being punished. Such a bad boy.”

Bucky frowned again then shot her a pitiful look. He wasn’t a bad boy, atleast he wasn’t trying to be! Bucky blinked dumbly at the road. His wife’s voice came through the haze, “C’mon Buck don’t go dumb on me yet. Parking is on the left.” On autopilot, he managed to park the car and escort his lady out.

She stepped in front of him, shouldering off the offered hand. Bucky moaned in distress and followed behind her like a lovesick puppy. He whined, “Don’t leave me behind!” The woman turned around with a smirk, eyes roving across his form. She replied, “Quit being needy baby— I’m not going anywhere.” Bucky softened slightly at the pet name but his cock stirred again.

He dug the heel of his palm into the swollen flesh, biting his lip to stifle noise. Bucky’s wife tutted and slapped at his hand, then turned to open the door to their brownstone. She kicked off her heels and walked to their room. Bucky did the same, calling her name as he followed her along. He watched hungrily as she unzipped her dress, smiling softly.

“Go change your clothes, puppy. I’m having my shower and you better be ready when I’m out.”

She moved away towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Bucky winced and his heart fell when he heard the lock. He pouted now, sullenly going to the ‘special drawer’. He rifled through the lingerie, settling on a baby blue set he knew she liked. “Brings out your eyes,” he remembered her whispering. He flushed and shivered at the memory.

Bucky stripped off his coat and yanked down his tie. He unbuttoned his shirt with frantic fingers, doing the same to his pants. Bucky moaned helplessly when he pushed down his underwear, brushing against his sensitive cock. The swollen member hit his belly when he uncovered it. Taking a deep breath Bucky collected and folded the clothes. He trembled with anticipation, heart thudding rapidly.

He slipped on the soft stockings first, shuddering at the feeling. Next came the garter, which Bucky shimmied on, his face flushing deeper in hot shame. He pulled at it, the material cutting into his softened waist and belly. He frowned down at the poorly fitting garter. His pretty baby was going to tease him to tears. Grabbing the last article of clothing, Bucky gazed at the skimpy panties. He had no clue where his wife even ordered them but he slipped on the silk clothing.

The soft material felt nice against his sensitive skin, Bucky’s lashes fluttering in response. When he pulled them up over his hips he mewled softly. The tight panties were snug against his leaking cock and achy balls. His left hand whirred as it twitched towards his crotch. He groaned, restraining himself or he’d be an even worse boy.

Bucky gingerly walked to the big bed and sat on the edge, tucking his arms behind his back. He whimpered in need, clenching his eyes closed to blot out the bright light. Bucky chewed on his lip as he waited, listened, and waited. He vaguely heard her humming and a couple of objects moving around. The fog began to collect around the edge of the brunette’s thoughts again, swaddling his racing mind. The humiliation of the lingerie and perching himself like a needy whore was fueling Bucky’s heady desire.

“Buck?,” came a soft voice. His missus voice. Bucky whined lowly, keeping his head down. He heard her bare feet padding across the floor. The light clicked off and a candle was lit. She instructed him to look up. He could see the outline of her until she got closer, his baby coming into view. Her eyes were soft but her face was locked into a predatory expression.

Bucky’s lips trembled as she caressed his jaw. She breathed, “Oh Bucky- you look so sweet. Like a good boy.” Oh please, Bucky thought. All he wanted to be was her good boy.

She crawled onto his thick thighs, seating herself flush to her husband. Bucky whimpered thinly, twitching.

“Lay back now,” she whispered into the shell of his ear. Following orders Bucky dropped back, no usual finesse on his part. Everything sounded dull and his muscles were lax. But he was keyed up to a 10. Bucky tried to speak but ended up whining and slurring nonsense; to which she pressed a finger against his lips. Her wide eyes sparkled when she murmured, “Shh bear. I’ve got you. This won’t be long- I know you’re sorry.”

“S’sorry,” Bucky cried lowly.

She stroked a tiny hand down his chest, soothingly stroking at the built muscle. She laid featherlight kisses onto his jaw and neck. Bucky preened, moaning at the soft touches. He faintly jerked when his wife’s fingertips swirled around his peaked nipple. Her lips split into a wide grin as she pinched at the sensitive nub. She teased, “So responsive, easy little thing.” Bucky was reeling when his girl combined the pinches with a roll of her hips.

“F-fuck!,” he cried.

Her hands moved down to the garter, rubbing at the flesh rolling out around it. Bucky’s wife taunted, “Oh, s’gotten a little tight hm? Maybe instead of yammering about our relationship around the lunch table you should get back to boxing?” Bucky gasped in mortification, his dick spurting out pre at the same time. She continued, “My plump little housewife at home— y’think they’d suspect it?“ She groped meanly at the fluff on Bucky’s belly, him squirming and whining in response.

“S-stop,” he begged, blue eyes watery and wide.

Bucky liked the humiliation so much, but he wouldn’t— couldn’t admit it out loud. His cock could clearly show you how much he was into it. It currently was staining the front of the silk panties. The woman tilted her head as she replied, “Oh sorry baby, was that mean? I don’t care.” Bucky sniveled at her response, tears rolling down his full cheeks.

Her hand finally, finally reached the hem of the underwear. The woman pulled down the blue silk to reveal Bucky’s cock. He hissed at the cold air hitting his hot skin. She marveled at his swollen member, flushed almost purple and profusely leaking. She moaned lowly, “Oh baby, that looks like it hurts. Want me to play with it?” Bucky nodded viciously, little whiny ‘yesses’ falling from his plump lips.

His wife rudely spat into her palm then wrapped her lithe hand around him. Bucky yelped like he’d been burned, twitching underneath her. Bucky hoped he was being good enough for her because she was still so angry. She ruthlessly jacked his cock, scolding Bucky about how bad he’d been. The brunette moaned non-stop, drooling pathetically. He was close already, his balls drawing up painfully.

He cried out his baby’s name, feeling his orgasm begin and followed by absolutely nothing. Bucky blanched at the loss, registering the denial seconds too late. He let out a confused sob, shaking intensely. Bucky mewled, “Nnno please baby— oh m’sorry sorry m’so sorry. Fuck it hurts s’bad, oh god!” He squirmed at his balls aching, the sensitive flesh swelling up even more. She pecked him on the lips, circling her thumbs on his plush sides patiently.

“That’s a good boy, shush, be still, taking your punishment so well. So proud of you sweet, handsome thing.”

‘Yes, yes,’ Bucky thought earnestly. He could deal with the pain if he got his miss to praise him like that. His stomach flipped excitedly at the prospect of her forgiving him. A delirious smile flicked onto Bucky’s face. She pressed a kiss to his delicate nose, her hand speeding up again. Bucky fluctuated between whiny cries and deep moans as she worked his cock.

“That’s so good, my pretty. My Bucky being such a good boy for me.”

“‘M your good boy?,” Bucky echoed in a frantic voice.

“Mhm,” she sighed.

Her thumb swirled around his sensitive tip relentlessly, not stopping until Bucky’s legs were shaky and he was sniffling. He whined, “Oh doll, miss, Jesus Christ, oh!” When he approached the jumping off point she pulled back again. His face crumpled and he sobbed hoarsely, gripping his hands so hard in the sheets she heard them ripping. Bucky’s brain was fried at this point as he wept. His wife stroked his sweaty hair, scratching her nails into his scalp.

“S’okay Buck, you’re okay,” she soothed.

His chest wrenched with another sob, throwing his head back. His angelic demon of a partner asked, “D’ya wanna come bear?” Bucky could only let out a string of incoherent whimpers, his eyes fluttering and nose running. Bucky knew he looked like a mess— but she gazed at him like he hung the moon. She pressed herself on top of him, breasts against his wide chest. She grasped his chin and thumbed the drool away.

Bucky’s sobbing had died down to breathless pants as he watched her. “Color?,” she inquired. Batting the heavy cotton out of his brain Bucky managed a weak ‘green ma’am’. He sniffled again at the ache between his thighs, pounding and heady. She whispered, “Kiss me then?” The brunette puckered his lips and she closed the gap.

Bucky thinly moaned her name, desperately seeking her approval. He couldn’t move his lips as confidently as he usually did. She picked up the slack, kissing Bucky even more senseless. Her tongue roved around his mouth and massaged his own softly. He rutted up against her wet sex out of instinct.

His baby laughed into his mouth meanly and pulled back. Bucky chased her lips only to receive a tut. He whined in frustration, tears threatening to well up again. She grinned as she spoke, “Hush now— you’ve been doing so good. Crybaby.” Bucky pouted and clenched his fists up. He knew he’d been a weepy thing but didn’t need a reminder.

“I’m just teasing! I know you’re hurting bad. Think you can handle my pussy now? Not gonna blow your load immediately like a needy slut are you?”

Bucky shook his head vigorously. He was going to prove himself but he couldn’t find the words for it. She laughed again and reached down between them to guide his cock into her. Her composure broke at the stretch, the woman’s lips falling open in a moan. Bucky painfully groaned and shut his eyes, afraid he’d blow from seeing how pretty his wife looked above him.

She stayed still and gave him some time. Bucky was reeling from the feeling of her snug, wet heat around his achy cock. He cried, “Ah- ah— fuck!” Her legs wrapped around his hips as she rolled them over, Bucky now on top. He blinked at her and braced his hands to keep his full weight from bearing down.

“C’mon and show me how it’s done, slut. Punish me big man, like ya’ tell your friends,” she taunted and slapped his ass.

Bucky whined, dimly pondering if that was the only noise he could articulate now. He pulled out slowly and thrust back in with a slap. She arched her back, face smugly looking up. Bucky trembled and tried to fight his body screaming at him to release. He knew his wife would have to give permission first. Again he drew back and jerked into her.

“That’s the best you can do? I said fuck me James.”

Bucky’s cheeks were wet with tears again. He had to be a good boy even if it was going to be the last thing he did. He’d always been told he was stubborn. With a shaky exhale he started an easy pace into her lax body. He bit down on his lower lip, grunting and whining like he was hurt. She gasped and gripped onto his broad shoulders. Pretty legs wrapped around his soft waist, goading him on.

Bucky felt the initial insistent heat in his loins die down, thrusting into his girl harder. “Yeah, yeah that’s it puppy,” she chanted. Bucky latched his swollen lips onto her breasts: biting, sucking, and licking. The woman’s cunt leaked more at the roughening thrusts, wet noises filling the air. She whined his name when Bucky suckled at her nipple.

Bucky keened and moved a hand down to her sensitive bundle of nerves. He had to make his angel come. The sargeant slurred, “M’your good boy.” She moaned in excitement and gripped at his dark hair. The woman cried out, “You are- fuck don’t stop!” Bucky swirled his thumb around her clit harder, feeling her cunt draw tight around him. She yanked at his hair as she throatily rasped, “The best boy, come with me Buck c’mon sweetheart. Love you.”

Bucky’s heart leaped, his wife had granted him permission. Needy kisses were laid on Bucky’s sensitive throat. One hand gripped his hair, the other lovingly rubbing at his back. “Love you,” Bucky weeped. She dug her heels in as she writhed, moaning Bucky’s name like a prayer.

Bucky was frantically rutting into her now. He couldn’t stop— chasing their orgasm like a mad man.

Sweat dripped down Bucky’s neck and chest. He gathered his baby’s lips into a kiss, crying out between lip locks. He whimpered, “Mh! Gonna come baby gonna f’you up, ah sorry can’t stop!” He repeated his needy apologies as he took from her. She yelped in ecstasy and tightened around Bucky’s cock. Her moans pitched up as she rocketed into a peak.

She pulled his hair one last time and threw her head back, exposing the column of her throat. Bucky wailed when he emptied into her tight pussy. He slammed his hips into hers, milking himself one last time. The pulse of her hot cunt felt like a gut punch. Bucky needily babbled on as his balls emptied. He trembled down to his toes and tucked his face into her neck.

He shook through the orgasm, feeling like hours had passed before the pleasure was less intense. She cooed and praised Bucky throughout the whole ordeal, gently replying to his slurred nonsense with a smile on her pretty face. She tapped his cheek and Bucky groggily raised his head to look. His wife chuckled, “Oh Buck you’re so cute. Did so well baby boy.”

Bucky rasped, “Thank you s’much.” He wasn’t sure if he was responding to the compliment or the magical sex. She rolled Bucky to his side, him sliding out in the process with a whimper. His wife cuddled closer and hugged him tightly— exactly how he liked after a punishment. Bucky blinked away some welling tears. His mind was clear enough that he murmured, “I’ll straighten everything out at work, I promise. I didn’t mean to shame you.”

“I know bear, I know. Just relax now. We’re alright. I love you, I’m here, you’re my good boy, I’m not going anywhere.”

[oddballwriter]

Hi!! So sorry to bother but I’m been fixated on Moon Knight for awhile and I haven’t seen any fics on Tumblr about the moon boys with a plus size!reader. When you had a sec, I’d appreciate maybe hcs about how they’d be with a chubby!reader!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

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Warnings: There's some mentions of reader being made fun of for their body and weight. Marc needs therapy but he refuses joke. Calling out Jake for being horny and that he would want reader to sit on his face but there's no actual smut or anything like that.

Author’s Snip: As a chubby/plus size person. I adore this request thank you so much, anon

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

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Steven Grant

Steven has hearts in his eyes

He thinks you're so lovely with how soft you are

Literally doesn't mind one bit

Calls you his favorite stress toy because he likes to cuddle and squeeze you when he feels upset or stressed out, so it's endearing

He likes to lay his head on your thighs and stomach because its the softest parts of you

He will fall asleep and take a nap there and it will be the best sleep he's ever had

Him, Marc, and Jake could spend the whole night doing MoonKnight work and all he would need is an hour long nap and he's completely rejuvenated till he's able to come back home and actually get some sleep. It's crazy

Steven of course hates confrontation but would tell someone to leave you alone as soon as they start making comments about you

He hugs you from behind a lot and just stays there for a minute

Something about holding you and feeling how warm and soft you are just fixes everything that's making him upset

It's like a child with a teddy bear or blanket. He just holds you and everything's okay

Marc Spector

"I don't need therapy, I have chubby s/o"

So the whole holding you for a while and everything is okay effect also works on Marc

He could be having an episode where he's closed off and not doing well with communicating his feelings and then you just come in and give him a hug and it helps him come off of it a little

Marc has this habit of grabbing some of your chub or the parts of you that are squishy like you waist or cheeks, sometimes the butt if he's feeling more flirty

He actually doesn't know why he does it either

It's not to be mean. There's just something about holding it that scratches something in his brain just right

Your softness gives him a good amount of free serotonin and dopamine, that is why he uses cuddling and holding you as therapy

If anyone says shit then he's telling them to shut the fuck up with no hesitation

Marc refuses to believe that he falls asleep easily when you hold him. But with the softness of your body, the warmth, and you calmly breathing... he sleeps like a fucking baby

Literally nothing will wake him up, manz is gone

Jake Lockley

Jake Lockley is a man who firmly believes that chubby lovers are where it's at

To him, you being heavy means that you eat good

He is canonically a horny bastard so I think he'd like the extra chub because he also believes in more cushion for the pushin'

He likes to pick you up. It makes his ego bigger to show off how strong he is

Will literally bully someone for making fun of your body and weight

Jake calls guys who don't like chubby women/people "boys" because to him real men like them soft and heavy. If you can't pick them up then start lifting so you can and stop crying about it

When you two cuddle he's the big spoon every time. He likes holding you like that because it feels like he's holding a living pillow with how soft you are

Makes you sit on his lap, all the time, no buts

No you are not crushing him, he has thighs of steel and he's a literal vigilante hero who works with a god of the moon. Sit on his lap. It's fine

His hand is constantly, chronically, on your thigh. And he squeezes it a lot too

He is an ass man, yes, but all parts are good to him

And also, respectively... sit on his face please

If he suffocates that's fine. That's the way the gods intended him to go

Lives by the thickness and would die by the thickness

[the-demonus-aunt]

Hello! I love love LOVE your work! If it's okay, may I ask if you could write about a MC who's has some chub and like how the demon boys love up on them during sex? ( like little tummy nibbles, how MC's tummy looks in rope bondage, ect.?)

I hope you're having an awesome day/night! Stay safe!

Loved this, thank you!

CN nsft. minors dni. reader has boobs (could be manboobs tho 🤤).

Belphie

The youngest brother is a sneaky little bitch

He's also a sadist

He adores your chub because he loves pinching it

Grabbing you hard while fucking into you

Leaving oh so pretty bruises on your love handles

Biting into your soft skin like into a perfect bun

He adores your curves and loves seeing them covered in his marks

You're his, after all, aren't you?

Beel

This boi loves some chub - he doesn't wanna feel like he's about to break you when he's rough

Even better if you have a healthy appetite - what could be sexier?

He'll hold on to your hips and caress your tummy and give little kisses to your double chin as you sigh his name in ecstasy

He loves clinging to you - you're so warm and soft and he loves you so much

Asmo

This boi is all about aesthetic

And damn you match his taste

He's got a thing for big butts. And big boobs. And thick thighs. And...really, he loves it all.

Nothing can compare to the image of you looking up at him, as his cum drips down your curves

There's nothing like the feeling of cumming all over your body and then admiring his work on the most beautiful canvas he's ever had

He might rub it into your skin, massage your whole body just to feel you up and make you glisten

Satan

The Avatar of Wrath truly thinks you're beautiful

He'll write poems about you and whisper them in your ear as he makes you cum

But frankly

There's one thing that just gets him off like nothing else

It's you sitting on his face and having him overstimulate you to tears as your soft thighs suffocate him

Honestly, if he ever has to die, he wants it to be like this

He'll grab your thighs and press them to his head even harder

Scratch along your hips carefully to make you shudder

Moan into you as his tongue teases you to a thousand little deaths

Levi

He's an otaku. He's used to hentai, so there are two things he gets way too excited by

First of all: boobs.

And by Dia, yours are magnificent. The way they feel so warm in his cold hands. The way they bounce when you ride him.

Secondly? He likes the jiggle.

The jiggle on your tummy. The jiggle on your thighs. The jiggle on your gorgeous ass.

He'll thrust into you extra hard, just to see it.

Too bad it only takes a few thrusts until he cums.

I suppose you'll just have to start over again. And again. And again.

Aftercare mostly consists of rubbing your stomach and planting kisses on your plumb adorable cheeks

Mammon

Honestly, he's not really aware of your body type

It doesn't matter if you're fat, chubby or skinny - you're pretty, that's all he sees

However, he does crave physical touch and closeness

So when you're making out and you're on top, he'll push you down onto himself and press up against you

When he's taking you doggy style, he'll grab onto your body anywhere he can

When he's eating you out, he'll bring your legs around his shoulders and head just to have you everywhere around him

It's good when there's more of you, because that means there's more he can be close to, more he can touch, more he can crave

Lucifer

He always thought you to be pretty

But oh, the first time he saw you all tied up, he realised how beautiful you really were

The Avatar of Pride loves your chub

Because when he spanks your horny little ass, he can see the waves of the impact

Because when he puts robes around you, they tug at your chub so deliciously

Because he has a thing for thigh highs and he can't get enough of the pudge that forms on you when you wear them for him

Because it makes biting you so easy

Because he can hold onto you so well, when he fucks into that one sensitive spot you like - or when you ride him and he's about to blackout

Oh how he dreams of holding you again when he has to let go of you for just a second

[leaentries]

jack hughes x chubby!reader headcanons

a/n- this has been a long time coming. also i want to apologize i’ve been kinda MIA recently, i’ve just been super busy with life!

SFW & NSFW under the cut!

SFW

i’ve discussed this briefly, but i think jack found his love for the chub on accident.

like he never thought he’d be into it, until next thing he knows, he can’t get enough of your rolls and curves

thinks they are so warm and squishy

loves to nestle and bury his face in your plushy tummy cause it’s just so so soft and comfy. definitely the type to lay all his weight on you and take a nap for hours.

you are his favorite place to sleep, so get used to it. he will actually just fall asleep on you everywhere, and i mean everywhere.

he loves your boobs. and everything about them.

how squishy and warm they are, how even though they don’t fit right or look perfect in everything you wear they still somehow manage to poke out a bit. he is super into the way they spill out slightly near the crease of your arm and shoulders. he’s so weak for your tits, bro.

sometimes if you are wearing a low-cut shirt or tank top and your boobs are showing he will literally just poke them

same goes for the cute rolls on your sides. dude loooooves them side rolls. he loves to grab, poke, squeeze, squish, bite, you name it.

his favorite thing is to sneak up behind you and grab your sides and tickle you, what an asshole.

being able to do little domestic things with you has his heart doing flips. like being able to buy groceries with you, cooking you dinner (when he tries), cleaning the apartment, he loves it all

he especially loves being able to wake up with you in the morning. the way your body keeps him warm. he’ll grab your round hips and pull you into his frame as far as you can possibly be. the type of guy to want to crawl into your skin, yk?

he’s just such a softie cuddly love bug when it comes to you. he can go from 😠 to 🥺😍 in a matter of seconds when you walk into the room

although we ALL know that he isn’t just a softie. baby boy knows how to fight. aho can attest to that firsthand.

i dare anyone to say anything bad about you in front of him, he’s immediately jumping to defend you. let someone say something to him on the ice? he’s dropping the gloves and helmet immediately.

his mood depends on your mood. if you’re not happy, he’s not happy. if you’re cranky, he’s cranky. he will do anything to see you happy and see your cute chubby cheeks light up with that gorgeous smile he lives for.

NSFW

as i’ve already established, he loves your tits.

so it’s only natural that he’s very big into playing with your boobs during any kind of sexual act.

BOOB JOBS. he will lose it in 30 secs. ngl he used to get embarrassed about how quickly your boobs could make him cum, until he realized the power trip it gave you and how good you felt that you could do that to him with just your tits.

but don’t worry, just the sight of your heavy breasts covered in his release is enough to get him hard again.

his favorite position is cowgirl. i know, i know, cliche. BUT he gets to feel all your weight on top of him AND see your tits bounce in his face. dude is in heaven.

he loves to hold your hips in place and fuck up into you 😋 he’s just so silly like that

#1 goal is to get you so fucked out to the point where you can’t hold yourself up anymore and collapse into him cause he just loves the feeling of your soft rolls against his stomach and chest.

hickeys, hickeys, and more hickeys. wants to cover you in head to toe with them. disclaimer- you better invest in a good concealer

[belle--ofthebrawl]

I mean... We need a little spying fic now.. Swiss loves to watch his big boy get it on.. 👉👈

Perhaps not exactly what everyone is expecting...the course this follows was set down long ago. Forcedfem involving heels under the cut.

You know he does though. And when Aether picks up a package from the delivery truck, it's all very casual you know. Swiss only catches the anxious way his tail curls around itself because he knows the guy so well.

Alright, so it's a sex toy. He thinks, stalking Aether back to his rooms. Stepping quickly and quietly over the slats of the roof. He thinks about what Aether might want that he couldn't get from anyone else here. Really solid vibrations, probably. Swiss likes the real thing personally, but he can't deny the allure of a steady rumbling pressed right up against sensitive, swollen spots.

He doesn't even close his curtains. It's like he wants to be spied on. He closes his door, locks it even and just stands there. Holding that package to his chest with his eyes closed. Breathing steadily to calm his fluttering heart. He's so cute.

Aether sits down on his bed. Swiss lays down on his tummy, props his chin on his hands. The sun is warm against his back, the tiles perfect and hot on his skin. Such a nice day. Such a nice view. He wishes he had a blunt to really round the experience out as Aether cuts into the package, unwraps the brown paper away from the white box within, gingerly lifts the lid, and...

It's not a sex toy.

Instead it's a pair of... shoes? Small and black and shiny with an ankle snapping heel length for anyone inexperienced.

Of course Swiss knows immediately who they must be for. Someone just as small with dark eyes and a snappy nature for anyone who wasn't privileged enough to see his softer, more feminine side.

Swiss has to bite his lip in glee as Aether reverently holds the little heels up for inspection. No flaw, obviously. How much had he...how long had he spent searching...and other thoughts like that are quickly wiped away when Aether hugs the pair to his chest in one arm and tilts his head back in an obvious groan Swiss would give anything to hear. He knows what's going on up there, he's imagined it too. The way he would slip them on and hesitantly stand up. Wobble around like the delicate thing he is until he was caught up in a stronger pair of arms. The way his legs would look in them while they both pinned him, pleasured him.

Made her tell them what a pretty girl she was.

Aether's head hangs low now. His mouth hangs open. Swiss wonders giddily if he's going to drool on the shoes. Now or later. Satanas, he hopes he gets to watch. He already sees the expression of hopeless horror over Aether's shoulders as he kneels to slide one little shoe on first. Maybe he'll kiss the ankle, the calf. Up past the knee and make his thighs shake. Swiss is so lost in this perfect picture his mind paints for him he nearly misses it. How Aether holds one shoe to his cheek, like someone is already wearing it and he's no better than a footstool. He drops it quickly, like it burns him and Swiss snickers. Big guy is just as quick to pick it back up, check for any scuffs. Aether laughs at himself, a little chuckle. A little shake of his shoulders, or was that a shiver of nerves?

Swiss can see he's chubbing up from here. Can hardly blame him. What a feast he must be devouring in his mind, tearing into it without care. Swiss can't wait to count the bitemarks left behind and as Aether brings the shoe up to his cheek again, eagerly groping his cock, rocking his hips, Swiss settles in for long haul. In the name of information gathering, of course.

After all, he's a very considerate man. Wouldn't Aether like his help broaching the topic of those dangerous looking shoes with their delicate little Droplet? She can be such a a nervous girl, after all...

Sometimes she needs convincing.

[bigdumbbambieyes]

modern au nsfw

steve had expected his boyfriend to crowd him against the front door and kiss him when he got home from work, but what he didn’t expect was the ‘gift’ hidden behind billy’s back that accompanied the familiar greeting.

“thought of you when i saw this earlier,” billy says easily as he brings his hand around, showing off his find.

it’s…something. it’s a few inches long, made of soft yet firm silicone, transparent, with flexible ridges inside and an opening all the way through.

he’s confused.

but, he knows that smirk on his boyfriend’s face all too well.

“what’s it for?” he asks, his tone unsure as he eyes the…thing.

billy hums, “more like who is it for, pretty boy,” his smirk turns into a grin, sharp like his eyes are as they roam over steve’s body, “and the answer is: you.”

“mhm,” steve furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, dubious as always as he tentatively takes the sleeve from billy’s hand when it’s offered, feeling that blue gaze on him as he examines the object in his hand for a moment.

then, billy brings his other hand from around his back, a bottle of lube resting in his palm, and steve blinks.

he hasn’t even put his things down yet.

“did we run out?” he asks with a small tilt of his head, trying to remember how much had been left after last night.

billy shakes his head slowly, that smug smile still on his annoyingly handsome face before he motions towards the sleeve with his chin, “it’s to use with that.”

steve huffs and gives the blond a look, “can’t you just tell me what it’s for—”

“—jesus, it’s for your dick, princess.” billy huffs in response, annoyed.

oh.

steve blinks again and then his gaze drops from billy’s eyes, down to his mouth, and then to the toy in his hand.

he sticks his finger inside it and the sensation makes all of the blood in his body rush down to his dick, filling out and chubbing up as he rubs the pad of his finger along the ridges inside, slowly, back and forth. he can’t help but imagine it around his dick, slippery and warm.

billy grins again as he watches steve finger the toy, seeing how his pretty boy’s blush travels down his cheeks and neck. he steps closer, takes the heavy tote bag from steve’s arm, and sets it down by the door before kissing at his neck, mumbling, “wanna try it?”

“now?” steve nearly whispers, tilting his head to the side when billy nips at his skin, a clear ‘yes’.

he chokes back a sound when he feels billy’s palm cover the front of his jeans, rubbing at his dick through the rough denim, and fuck, yeah, he wants to try it now.

“c’mon,” steve breathes, pushing at billy’s shoulder.

——

it’s…a lot.

it’s tight and slick, warm from billy’s hand that’s wrapped around it as he works steve’s dick, sliding up and down and quick around the tip in a way that makes steve whimper in the back of his throat.

it’s almost too much - especially when he feels billy’s chin hook over his shoulder, clearly taking in the little show, watching the wet tip of steve’s dick disappear and reappear at the top of the sleeve with every stroke.

“mm, you like it?” billy groans into his ear, talking low and filthy, grinning mean, “you’re moaning like a little bitch, stevie, of course you love it—”

“—shut up.” steve pants, feeling his face flush hot at the degrading words, just as his cock gushes out precum.

billy chuckles, “or what? you gonna cum, hm? you like this fake pussy that much, honey?”

steve tilts his head back against billy’s shoulder, feels a strong arm wrap around his middle, stabilizing them both as he squirms and whines as billy keeps his relentless pace up, the slick sound of the toy on his cock making him feel more and more desperate. “no,” he pants, petulant, because fuck billy.

“fucking liar,” the blond growls against his ear, “you’re making me jealous of a fucking sex toy, baby. that should be me, riding your big cock.”

“you’re—” steve cuts himself off as he feels billy’s tongue is on his neck, hot and wet as he licks up the side of his throat, “you’re the one that bought it,” he manages quietly, gripping at billy’s muscled thighs that bracket his, “you did this to yourself.”

“doesn’t matter,” billy murmurs, “you’re the one that fucking fingered it at the front door and got hard at just the thought of using it.” he presses his mouth to steve’s ear, tone dipping low as he mutters, “so fucking filthy, stevie. and so goddamn easy.”

he should be ashamed at how hot it makes him when billy calls him easy, but he isn’t, not when his balls are drawing up and his back arches, jaw dropping as he feels his orgasm getting closer and closer, panting, “billy, billy, fuck—”

“that’s it,” billy urges him, a smile evident in his voice as he murmurs, “c’mon, stevie, c’mon.”

steve manages a final gasp of billy’s name before he’s spilling all over the duvet cover and down billy’s knuckles, faintly hearing billy’s pleased moan as he floats in that hazy little high.

a careful hand turns his face and billy’s kissing him, pushing his tongue inside and steve tries his best to kiss back but he’s far too lazy.

billy doesn’t seem to mind, he sucks on his boyfriend’s tongue and lips for a few more moments before he groans into steve’s mouth, “fuck, that was so hot.”

he manages a soft noise of agreement, until he feels billy begin the move the toy again and then steve’s sucking in a sharp breath and turning his head to look at billy with wide eyes.

billy’s staring right back at him, grinning as he hums, “think we can get a second one outta you, pretty boy?”

well. there’s no harm in trying, steve supposes.

[chairwritexv]

Can i request platonic rottmnt little sibling chubby with all of the brothers HC?

Reader is same age as Mikey but what makes them different is they're on the plus size, their ninpo were made to be support class (and yes am thinking of rpg games).

This makes reader insecure about themselves; they're not " helping much " and they believe they're fat and not strong or skiny or have toned muscles like the rest of the mad dogs which put them down.

However the 4 brothers think otherwise and they have their own way to show their love & affection to reader/p

yess!! WE LOVE CHUBBY PEOPLE !!! i am such a green bean tho akfsjdns

also, i don’t play rpg games a ton, but after looking it up it appears to be a healer kinda? sorry if i got it wrong !

r a p h

is actually really surprised to learn youre insecure about your size and ninpo

he’s pretty big but doesn’t really have problems with it ??? of course he doesn’t really realize the difference between ‘beefy af’ and ‘le chubby’ lmao

he wasn’t entirely sure what to do at first bc he’s never seen this before

and with his sibling?.?? afjsjsj

when he realized/you told him he tilted his head in confusion stared at you before bursting out

“you don’t like your body??? why???”

“raph has a big body and he don’t care!”

didn’t understand at first

“you’re the most perfect little sibling raph could want !”

”no matter what yer size!”

kinda felt bad, he felt like he should’ve noticed sooner since he was the Big BrotherTM

made sure not to be accidentally offensive about it just in case

when one of those lose-weight-or-no-one-will-love-you thought inducing ads would come on raph would block the tv

“DONT LISTEN TO IT!! YOU ARE PERFECT NO MATTER WHAT YOUR SIZE!!!”

l e o

ok so. the lil shit probably teased you abt it in the past. but NOT in a rude or offensive way. like affectionate . well he tried to come off affectionate anyways …

he’d like just poke at your chub n stuff y’know?

he wasn’t really trying to be offensive he just found it interesting since all his other brothers were skinny beans, and raph was just super beefy

but oh my god

BOI FELT SO BAD WHEN YOU TOLD HIM YOU WERE INSECURE ABT IT

”…what?”

feels like it’s all his fault

apologizes so much abt it he’s the one the needs reassuring afsjdn

he wasn’t the main reason of your insecurities , but his teasing hadn’t helped it… yknow?

he reassured you there was nothing wrong with your body OR ninpo and no reason to be insecure abt it

tells you his past ‘teasing’ wasn’t meant to be rude in any way and apologizes

he hasn’t teased you abt it for awhile anyways, but still makes sure not to be rude abt it in any ways whatsoever

if one of those lose-weight ads comes on he’ll tell you a stupid joke or something to move your attention away from it

still feels bad abt the teasing tbh

d o n n i e

he’s the second most surprised

i mean, he knows that people feel insecure abt their chub sometimes thanks to the internet but he wasn’t expecting one of those people to be you

i mean, you weren’t even that chubby in his opinion

uses logic to reassure you that your body is fine in every way

same with your ninpo

”your ninpo is very important and crucial to the team, y’know-“

he will not have his little sibling being insecure >:(

if he notices you staring at yourself in the mirror with a less-then-positive-face on, he’ll drag you away from it under the guise of wanting to show you his latest invention

not good with emotions but he’s doing his best ok

if those lose-weight-and-you’ll-finally-be-perfect ads comes on he’ll either distract you somehow or cover your eyes with his battle shell arm

m i k e y

was confused at first, not understanding what you meant

when he finally understood he gasped

his twin?? disliking their body/ninpo???? UNACCEPTABLE

cue the doctor feelings speech

does absolutely everything in his power to make you feel good abt yourself

will draw you SPECIFICALLY highlighting your pudge bc there is nothing wrong with it and will take that to his grave

sends you body-affirming stuff at random times

will paint his nails with you whilst reassuring you you’re absolutely beautiful the way you are ✨

a lose-weight ad?

he will DRAMATICALLY scream at you not to watch it-

”Y/N! DONT WATCH IT!! ITS FULL OF LIES-“

-before hugging you and dramatically putting his hand to his head

”LIES!!!”

it’s such a funny distraction technique you can’t not burst out laughing

thanks for reading!! hope you enjoyed!!!

[forlorn-crows]

I've just had the most terrible (wonderful) thought. Puppy Mountain / Mean!Dew. Mountain gets away with everything when he's in puppy mode because he is just so damn cute like that but Dew has decided he needs to be more obedient actually.

im supposed to be working on my wips . . .

here, have some good ol' degradation from our resident fire ghoul and a very desperate earth pup

Dew twirls the delicate chain leash in his hand, tugging ever so slightly, just enough to put pressure around Mountain’s throat. His throat bobs underneath the black leather as he tries and fails to swallow the excess saliva in his mouth. 

“Do you think you’ve been a good boy, Mountain?” Dew’s tone is low, commanding. Directive. Mountain looks up at him with wide, tearful eyes, a low whimper falling from his lips. His tail thumps against the hardwood, eager to please. His cock hangs heavy between his folded legs. It kicks a little with Dew’s words, dripping more pre onto the floor. 

Dew sneers. “I don’t think so. I think you’ve been a bad boy.”  He’s sure they make an odd pair to the common eye, but Mountain never feels smaller than when he’s bare, needy, and owned by the fire ghoul. He whimpers again, a weak protest. 

“Think you can get away with anything, don’t you,” he continues, looking him up and down. “Smooth your way out of bad behavior with those big green puppy dog eyes, hm?”

Mountain’s ears pin back low against his head, sheepish. Apologetic. 

Dew tuts. “That doesn’t work on me. Good dogs listen to their masters.” He snaps the leash, waltzing around to the back of Mountain’s huddled form. The fire ghoul drapes the chain over his shoulder and strokes his hair between his horns. It’s not soft or comforting—it’s a petting that exudes pride of ownership. 

“You’ll just have to show me how good you can be.” Obedient is what he means. “I certainly hope you remember all of your tricks, dog.” Mountain whines, shaking his head to attempt to rid of the anxiety creeping up his spine. 

Dew lets out a dark laugh. “Don’t be nervous. You’ll get your reward, in the end.” He leans in close, hot mouth ghosting along the downturned curve of Mountain’s ear. “But only if you listen,” he threatens. The harsh tone goes straight to the earth ghoul’s gut, mouth watering and cock kicking against his stomach. 

Dew steps back and lifts his booted foot, nudging Mountain onto all fours with a swift nudge between his shoulder blades. He scrambles to catch himself before he faceplants, landing hard on his palms. Dew makes his way back to his front; the only view Mountain has of him for a few weighted moments is his well-worn boots placed straight under his nose. 

“Watch me,” Dew commands firmly. Mountain’s face snaps up towards him, wide eyes meeting the fire ghoul’s narrowed ones. They soften subtly at the corners at the earth ghoul’s speedy response. “Good boy,” he smirks, tail snapping behind him. He tilts his head, considering. 

“Sit,” he lilts. Mountain holds his eye contact, utterly loyal. He lowers his haunches and sits back on his heels, hunched over so his hands remain on the ground. 

“Very good.” It’s low, mean, teasing. Completely designed to humiliate. Dew drops a hand down to his crotch and rubs over his fly, palming his barely-there bulge. He isn’t really hard yet, but the way Mountain’s mouth parts with a line of drool already forming off the tip of his tongue shows even the promise of it is tantalizing enough.  

“Down.” Dew points to the ground and the earth ghoul sinks down to it, belly pressing to the tops of his thighs and chest resting on top of his neatly-folded arms. He looks up at the other ghoul still, seeking approval hungrily. 

“Good,” he says curtly. “Up again.” Mountain’s eyes are squarely on Dew’s pants now, eyeing his now chubbed up dick pressing against the seam. A fat line of drool spills from his mouth, joining the puddle of pre on the hardwood. 

Dew smiles, all fang, pleased with himself. He crosses his arms. The movement makes the leash tug a little, earning a gasp from the needy ghoul beneath him. It makes the next word out of his mouth even more satisfying.

“Speak.”

Mountain chirps, more of a shocked sound than anything. There’s a hint of embarrassment in his wide eyes, hesitancy welling up in the corners of them. But Dew doesn’t miss the way his cock twitches traitorously, or the way the spade of his tail lifts once, twice. 

“Mountain, speak,” he says more forcefully, beginning to wind the thin chain of the leash around his wrist. 

The earth ghoul rushes to make a sound, producing a rumbly little rrrruff, not unlike a disgruntled husky. The look on his face shows Dew that he knows it wasn’t enough, hanging his head shamefully. 

“Uh uh.” He tugs on the leash, forcing Mountain’s chin back up. He leans in close, about a hands-width away from being nose to nose. “I won’t ask you again,” Dew hisses. “Speak.”

Mountain lets out a pained moan before ultimately swallowing his pride and forcing out a loud, singular bark. Dew grins and gives the side of his face a pat before rising back up.

“Good.” He gives him a once over, takes in his watery eyes, his shaky arms, the shine of his spit-soaked chin, and, of course, the flushed length of his cock, throbbing under Dew’s gaze—the gaze that dips lower, landing on the floor beneath Mountain’s knees. 

Dew sucks his teeth, hides a venomous smile. “Look at the mess you’ve made,” he says, dangerously low. Mountain snaps his head down, sucking in a breath at the puddle of precum and drool between his legs. Blatant proof of his desperation. 

"No," Dew corrects. He steps to his side and places a firm hand at the nape of his neck. "Really look at it." Dew forces his head down to the floor. Mountain whimpers as he's made to crumple back down to his belly, nose centimeters from the edge of his mess. He whines, looking up at the fire ghoul with pleading eyes, tears threatening to spill over.

"Clean it up, puppy. And then we'll see about a reward." His hand releases from the back of his neck. Mountain could say no, could draw the line at licking up his own spill off the dirty floor. The word hovers on the tip of his tongue.

But the reward, he knows, is far worth the punishment. 

Mountain drags the flat of his tongue across the mess, huffing at the taste of himself and the wearing varnish on the hardwood. He makes it as quick as he can, efficiently licking up every smear, every drop, every well of need. When he's done, he sits up and licks his lips, internally grimacing at the taste as he grins at his handler. 

Thankfully, Dew returns the grin and gives him another pat on the head. "Good boy. Now," he tugs on the leash, moving towards the bed, "come along, pup."

The earth ghoul hesitates, resulting in a harsh tug on his collar as Dew has to stop in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. Mountain looks down at his hands, back up at Dew.

Dew rolls his eyes. "All fours," he says simply. He resumes his stride, ignoring the whine he gets in response as Mountain hobbles on long limbs behind him. Again, the earth ghoul has to bury his pride for the short path to the bed, pausing once he reaches the foot of it. He sits and waits for permission, joining Dew on the bed when he beckons him up. 

Dew smirks, eyeing Mountain’s body laid out beside him, hard cock trapped between his thighs. He tugs on the chain, bringing his face right next to his own. He hums and trails his nose along Mountain’s, dipping back down to nip at his top lip. The earth ghoul melts against him, begging.

“Now,” Dew breathes, lips brushing across Mountain’s. He tugs hard on the leash, pulling the rings of the martingale section close to touching, restricting the larger ghoul’s throat and wringing from him a needy, choked-out whine. Dew huffs a mean laugh and lowers his voice to a dangerous whisper.

“Breed me like the dog you are.”

[bluescribble]

(kinda a long post)

JOHN : He's the kid who has lived the most "normal" life out of all the beta kids. I like to think he looks like a relatively average boy, and that his dad took good care of his son. I'm willing to bet Dadbert only bought him clothes that fit him well, so he nevers looks frumpy or whatever, but he doesn't look fancy. He isn't too thin or big, although maybe he has bit of baby chub here and there (he's still growing up :P) but overall he's healthy. I like to think he looks like a more masculine Jane Crocker, so he has Jake's features but looks softer ? you get what i mean. I also like to think he has thinner and straighter eyebrows, just to get that "innocent" hero look.

ROSE : To be quite honest I think people should point out how similar she's to Dirk sometimes. Like, I think she inherited his"vanity" to keep up appearances, esp about his hair. I like to imagine she keeps extra care of it, but doesn't quite know how to. I doubt she'd ask her mom how to do it, so her bangs become all dry and stringy in an attempt to have them pefect. I gave her lots of volume cuz I think it makes her look dramatic tbh. She looks masculine in the sense that I think she might have a little more muscle definition than Dave. I'm not talking body builder but like, you know how some people look a bit toned without doing anything ? That's that. Her face is more angled, her eyebrows are a little more filled in (like alpha Strider) but her sprite still shows she kept those enigmatic Lalonde eyes. Though I'd still like an aloof Rose Lalonde lol. She looks healthy enough, but not as she should be I think. Also she looks like an octopus.

DAVE : Same thing, I prefer to compare him to Roxy. Out of all the betas in my head he looks very soft. I don't personally draw his hair all rough like John's, for him it's more soft strokes and the like, to give the same impression as Roxy's little twirl thingy in her hair. His eyebrows are a little rounded too, not straight like Egbert's but definitely less harsh. As seen by Hussie's sketch of the Striders without glasses, he has big ol' eyes. So I'd imagine he has a more sultry shape than Rose. He's got a bit of a baby face. He's very skinny though, since Bro doesn't feed him properly. Physical activity + no food = bad tbh.

JADE : In terms of looks, she looks so bubbly. I haven't drawn all the alphas yet but I think she'd have Jake's "wonder" aura or wtv and Jane's big lashes, which gives her large anime eyes haha. She just has so much energy and wit. I tried to make her face look like Jane but with Jake's more "masculine" face shape, as in square. English just gave the "slightly square face shape" gene to his ecto-family lmao. So I tried to round the edges of her face abit, but it distinctly looks a little square. She probably has straight-ish eyebrows, but with a stern look overall ? Jane's skepticism about stuff comes to mind with that. Also I wanted to give the effect that if you shortened her hair she'd look like Jane and Jake at the same time (I haven't drawn the alphas ik but shh). She's probably healthy enough, I mean she has all the veggies and game she needs on her islands, and gadjets and whatnot. She might look the most normal with John, but her upbringing is left to be desired :(

i don't believe in artstyles personally, but that's what comes to mind usually

[passivenovember]

Disaster hits on the thirteenth day.

Really, if Billy cared to get technical, disaster hits five minutes before the fourteenth day. Verging on a long weekend. 

It’s all detail.

He’s shitfaced to celebrate the full stop of an insane work week, he’s exhausted but floating in that perfect little space of cross-fade where he’s just happy to be barefoot watching Animal Planet in his living room, and Steve’s shitfaced because Billy is, and they’re still freshly moved into their brand new apartment when Steve drops a bomb.

“Robin,” Steve hiccups, sprawled like a newborn deer on the couch with M&M dust stuck to his lip, “Robin’s gonna set me up,” He says.

Billy itches for a cigarette but he promised Steve he’d stop smoking them. They’re adults now, in this brand-new apartment, and adults have to think about things like gum disease and lung cancer. They’re not as young as they used to be so he chews on his thumbnail instead. His brain pokes at Steve’s words with a stick and wonders if they’ll wiggle their consonants at him, raising one foot to reveal webbed membra. 

“Hmm,” Billy says in the meantime. 

“I told her not to,” Steve says distantly. He flips his feet over his head, heels hitting so hard that their bong rattles on the coffee table. “I tried to get her to stop but. She wouldn’t listen.”

Billy rights the bong with an uninterested hand. “‘Course not.”

“She’s evil.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Billy tries, shrugging his shoulders at Steve, like, what’re you gonna do, right? W.L.W.

But Billy’s arm wrestled Buckley enough times. Seen her chop and carry firewood on one shoulder just as often as she cries over rom coms, so he’s not so fucking stupid that he’d really believe lesbianism is the root of all evil, but Steve giggles anyway.

And that’s worth it.

Billy smiles to himself, smug as a bug in a rug for getting Steve to laugh like that.

“She is a lesbian,” Steve says, scooting along the couch until his head plops like wet dough into Billy’s lap. “She’s dating Heather.”

“Heather,” Billy says, tasting her name on his tongue. Hairspray and lemon drop shots. College years.

“Heather Feather,” Steve says, laughing to himself, “It’s so weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Just, like. They orbited each other in high school. Like we did, y’know?”

Billy doesn’t know. But his heart stops and kickstarts all in the same second. Runs wild with the possibility that Steve means what Billy hopes he does.

Heather and Robin. Robin and Heather.

Steve and Billy could be like that, someday. 

Steve pokes at his chest. “You know what I mean, Bills?”

Billy says, “Yeah,” so smart that Steve nods and chews on his lower lip until it gets swollen like a summer strawberry. 

Billy’s heart thumps, jumping its own battery.

He loves this boy.

Fuck, has he loved this boy for years--

Billy fiddles with two silky strands of Steve’s hair. Tries to braid two pieces of hair together and fails miserably. Steve almost purrs, rolling his head against Billy’s thigh until his crown grazes Billy’s very interested dick.

And Billy’s used to sporting a half-chub around Steve. It’s not so bad, anymore. It was a lot harder to deal with before he learned about tucking his cockhead into the waistband of his jeans but now, on the couch in his lazy sweats, smoking pot in their brand new very adult apartment when Steve could’ve easily moved into a place of his own now that they’re out of college--

“Heather gets what she wants,” Steve says. In awe.

Billy thinks about turtles without a shell, shriveled and dying, to make his dick calm down.

“Yeah,” Billy mumbles, “She’s the princess.” 

“Thought I was the princess?” Steve wiggles on the couch until Billy can feel his warm, schnapps-y breath against his belly. His eyes are big and wet and if Billy didn’t know any better he’d think Steve was a second from bursting into tears and that.

Does nothing to help Billy’s situation.

“Hey,” Billy says, keeping Steve down, “You’re my princes. THE princess, right? The Queen.”

“The King,” Steve says, smug.

“That Brat,” Billy tells him. He tugs on Steve’s hair and the sound he makes goes right to Billy’s dick. 

And.

Suddenly they’re two seconds from Billy stabbing up through Steve’s skull, throbbing and wet--

“Sorry,” Steve says, smacking a hand over his mouth, “When I’m drunk I get--”

“--It’s alright--”

“--Shit, sorry,” Steve tries to sit up, cheeks red, but Billy holds him down with a gentle, firm hand. 

“It’s alright, Steve,” Billy says. He’s pitching a tent and if Steve sits up right now-- “We’ve been roommates since we were eighteen years old.”

“We’re only twenty-two--”

“Yeah, and I’ve had a front-row seat to four New Years Eves, three big breakups, that semester you were worried about telling your parents you were switching from business to early childhood ed--”

“--My God--”

“I’m just sayin’ your star quality wore off pretty quick.” And turned into a bone-aching, heart-stopping, knee-trembling Disney Prince Level of Heartthrob pheromone that Steve spews like a rogue sprinkler. 

Billy’s kind of obsessed with it. With Steve.

Billy sinks lower on the cushion, thighs spreading so Steve’s gotta shuffle away. “What’s Robin setting you up for? Summer camp instructor at the Y, or something?”

“That’d be so cool, actually.”

Billy smirks, “Working with kids?”

“Yeah, teaching them about the recorded history of macaroni art, catching fireflies, going to the pool--”

“You’re insane.”

Steve blinks, eyes big and hurt. “Why, because I love kids?”

“Well. Yeah?” Billy deadpans, tugging on Steve’s earlobe. “It’s okay to love kids a normal amount but when you spend nine months out of the year teaching the brats to read while they cover the walls in Sharpie so you lose your deposit--”

Steve giggles and Billy tries not to preen like a fucking exotic bird. 

“--Why the fuck would you sign up to spend your two and a half months of PTO with more kids?”

“I’m not spending my summer vacation as a YMCA camp counselor, Billy.”

“Nice,” Billy says, “Because if you were I was gonna say that dusting off that same tired art circle lesson plan for the next unassuming group of brats is probably the first sign of insanity--”

Steve smacks Billy’s stomach, settling in with his bare feet propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest.” He determines. Like he likes it.

Loves it.

“How’d you know what my lesson plans look like?” Steve peers up at him, smile soft and eyes warm like the center of a chocolate cupcake fresh from the oven.

Billy grins back, running his fingers through Steve’s hair until all the softness in his eyes melts away, “If it’s not a classroom of 14 strangers what’s left for Robin to set you up with?”

“A date,” Steve says.

And.

Billy must turn to dust on the spot. His face probably cracks like the surface of a mirror, his fingers ground to the bone so he can feel the rattling timbre of Steve’s heartbeat as he waits to see what’s going to happen.

“Say something,” Steve insists. Like he knows what that news means to Billy, and. He’s hoping it isn’t true.

Billy breathes deeply through his nose, but it feels like his airways have closed like summer roads, little red signs cluing construction. 

Steve sits up, Billy’s fingers slipping from his hair. He smooths it back into place. It’s wild. It pops up again like a spring-loaded toy. Like a jack in the box. 

Billy says, “Who’s the lucky guy,” flat and fragile because his windpipe is being crushed under the weight of unshed emotion.

Steve doesn’t hear it. His face hardens. “I dunno who he is,” Steve says, “That’s the point of a setup--”

“--you didn’t say it was a blind date, how am I supposed to know--”

“--it doesn’t fucking matter, alright?” Steve swings his feet to the floor, elbows to knees so Billy can’t see his face, only the angry red vein that thumbs blood through his neck to his brain. “I thought. I thought I would tell you--”

“And what?” Billy demands.

Steve turns, eyes like a summer storm. Muddy and swamped. He’s breathing like he just ran a race. Lost the gold. “I thought i would tell you about the date, and. I thought you were gonna say something.” 

Billy sits, frozen and terrified, “Steve--”

Steve gets up. He grabs his keys from the bowl on the coffee table, tugs his shoes on by the front door, and slams out of the house.

--

Billy doesn’t know why he couldn’t say it.

Anything. 

So he drinks. He drinks and watches the door and tries to figure out what he’ll say when, someday, it opens and Steve is there cloaked in sunlight.

--

Really, it’s Robin’s fault so he calls Heather, clutching a bottle of whiskey by the neck to keep himself in his place against the wall by the telephone.

Robin answers. “Hello?” She says. And she’s high. Billy knows she’s high because they went to college together.

“Put Feather on,” He demands because if he has to listen to Robin’s voice he’ll stick his head in the oven and end it all.

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you a bitch?”

“God, you’re such an asshole--” Robin starts, but someone yanks the phone away. 

“Billy baby,” Heather says, and Billy tries to not immediately burst into tears at the sound of her voice, scratchy from smoking too much.

He fails. 

In the background, someone’s grumbling under their breath. Someone else is shushing them. 

Steve is at Heather and Robins because. Of course he is, and. Billy doesn’t want to intrude but they’re his lesbians too, alright? They’re all friends. Best friends. Billy has just as much a right to run to their safety as Steve does, and--

“Billy, what’s wrong?” Heather asks. For once in her life she sounds worried. Tired.

Billy wants to tell her everything. 

He’s in love.

Steve wants Billy to be in love with him, and Billy is in love with him but he couldn’t say it and now--

“Do you want me to come over?”

Billy thumps his forehead against the wall. “Feather May, ‘M drunk.”

Heather pulls away from the receiver to whisper something at Steve and Robin. Distantly, he imagines all tree of them crowding around the telephone, anxious to hear what he’s going to say like this is the 1940s and Billy’s the President of The World, making a speech that will really change things, and not.

This. Whatever he is right now.

Pathetic. Smarmy little sack of shit--

“You’re not a sack of shit, Bills,” Heather says, shushing him. “You’re just scared, that’s all--”

“Makes me a sack ah shit, Heath.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Someone’s mumbling again. It sounds like Steve. 

Steve, when he’s at the breakfast table reading the paper to himself quietly. Steve, his head tilted close to a museum plaque at that shitty little pioneer museum in the valley, reading to Billy because Billy was too stubborn to do it himself. Steve, whispering into the receiver in the middle of the night, every night, when he was studying abroad during their last semester of junior year--

“Is,” Billy tries, as the room trips over itself. “Is Steve there?” 

He is. Heather doesn’t have to tell him. Steve is everywhere, written in the sky and on diner tops and scrawled like graffiti over stop signs.

“Yeah,” Heather says. Solemn.

And Billy’s never heard his witch bitch sound solemn before so he starts sniffling again, worried that this means Steve’s never gonna come home because Billy’s afraid. 

“Can he hear me?”

“Yeah,” Heather says, and. 

Billy pushes away from the wall. Wants to stand on his own two feet for this. “I don’t want you to go on a blind date, Steve. Or a set up, or. Whatever. Because I want to watch T.V. with you. And we just signed our brand new lease, like, yesterday and we haven’t even unpacked yet and I thought I could make pancakes. We could fight over who gets the biggest room, or we could move into the biggest room together, like--”

“--Billy--”

“Not in twin beds. Not like those couples from the 1960s but like. Lovers. We could make it our home, and you could read the paper to me out loud on Sunday’s, and I could brush your hair because your hair is so soft, Steve. I want a pillow and a sweater and a blanket made of your hair, I want--”

“--Billy, stop--”

“I want to live inside you. Forever. In this house, inside of you, beside you, on top of you, I want. You. I love you.” Billy says, from the floor. 

He sat down.

Somewhere in the middle of that he sat down, and the floor is nice. Steve should be here with him.

"I can move out,” He says. Like. Problem solved, and. The line goes silent, everyone holding their breath, so Billy takes another swig from the bottle and clarifies, heart breaking, “I don’t want Steve to go away.”

No one says anything. 

Billy tries not to cry, again. 

Fails.

“I don’t want him to never come home,” Billy says, wrapping himself in the phone cord, somehow. “If he won’t come home because I’m here, I’ll go. I’ll go pack a bag right now, but. I’ll make sure it’s perfect for him. I’ll make sure it’s home. I’ll make some bread and put the coffee on and I’ll clean the kitchen before I disappear, I’ll--”

“I love you,” Steve says.

Steve.

Stevestevesteve--

There’s snot running down Billy’s nose. It’s disgusting. 

“I’m not leaving,” Steve says, sounding. Way more sober than Billy’s ever been in his entire life. Like he’s studied Billy, he’s mapped the path, he knows what he wants--

“I’m never leaving you,” Steve tells him, voice soft like feather down. “No matter what.”

Billy lifts his whiskey bottle to find that it’s empty. “Steve, I’m drunk.”

On the other end of the line, Steve hums. Billy knows he’s chewing on his thumb nail, deep in thought like he gets when it’s late and Billy’s a burning forest needing something cool to hang onto.

Billy leans against the wall. 

When he was a kid he used to imagine what he could’ve done differently. How many times he could’ve done differently, and.

It starts with his mom. 

He tried. She never listened, but Steve does. Billy wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and says, “Can you come home, now,”

And Steve says, “I’ve already got my shoes on.”

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

Hear me out I am very high from a edible rn but HEAR ME OUT DUDE

so we all know Chris Evans and his absolute slutty build like cmon he literally was nicknamed the human dorito bc slutty waist

Anyways thinking about that one promo pic of Chris in the cap suit with his back turned to the camera and his ass is just perfect ANYWAYS FR THIS TIME

Thinking about stucky but not like dating but Bucky being obsessed with Steve’s absolutely slutty figure and once the two get close to being fully retired Steve gets bigger as he slowly grows accustomed to taking it easy for once. but not exactly just fatter everything is the same but somehow softer and bigger. His thighs spread out more when he sits his chest is massive not quite defined pecs but far from being flabby moobs they’re just huge, his abs are long gone but he doesn’t have a round gut (Atleast when he’s empty) and the best part that makes bucky go crazy is his love handles , ass, and thighs, all perfectly packed together in one big package that makes Bucky lose his shit. Steves ass has nearly doubled but it’s still a perfect bubble butt, and his thighs have filled out enough to close any gap that might’ve occurred even when he has a wide stance. (Think those really chunky frat boys that manspread and their thighs are still somehow touching) BUT Steve’s suit and most of his wardrobe hasn’t changed so his clothes just accentuate his assets. His thighs and ass taking up most of the room in his pants and they perfectly leave Steve’s bulge completely on display almost like a gift from god to Bucky. Anyways I’m sure if you did add to this you’d be able to express that better than I could! And if you don’t THATS ALSO COOL (pls by no means feel like you have to answer this right away )

THIS HAS VIBES 🤤🤤

You know what kind of vibes? Exhibitionist Captain America vibes from this post by iwritetheweirdstuff

And I assume you're talking about this photo, which I nabbed from forchrisevans

Okay, shit...

Now you just have me thinking about chunky but still super fucking muscular Steve. I’m going off the rails over here, biting and clawing at my enclosure. I don’t think this rambling is actually totally related to your original idea, so just know I love your original idea!

But this reaoly gets me because Steve would be such a fucking classic MAN. Yanno? Big and heavy and robust. He looks like he could take Bucky in his big, beefy arms and rip him apart. He’s healthy. Hefty. Rippling muscles hidden under this layer of pudge.

Yum.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink ahead. Warning for weight gain, muscle chub talk, tight clothes, Bucky being a little creepy by drooling over Steve before they're an item, etc.

Before gaining weight and when he was wearing the title of Captain American so tightly that it was suffocating him to the point that he was unforgiving of himself, never good enough as Steve Rogers, Steve was like a Thoroughbred. A racehorse, smooth and lean, with a single objective. Win. But now that he’s looser with the title and deciding what he wants for himself, more often calling himself a nomad than going by Cap… now he’s gruff, ignoring the rules (ignoring them even more than he did before, which is saying something for a troublemaker like him), and he’s like a Clydesdale. He’s a tank.

A fucking beast.

When he’s running, you get out of the fucking way because of all the mass behind that force. If you let him collide with you at full speed, full force… it ain’t pretty. His feet pound the ground. Jesus wept. These days his chest, belly, and ass shake when he runs, even when his big, big body is wrapped tightly in all that deep, navy-blue Kevlar. The sight just destroys Bucky.

Bucky can’t fucking fight next to him anymore when they’re called in for Avenging every now and again, half-retired as they are. It was bad enough when Steve was that Thoroughbred, rippling lean muscle and a shiny, bright blond head of short hair. Always distracting Bucky. But now it’s worse because Steve is a Clydesdale with this heft to him and his dirty blond hair and dark, thick beard. He’s even letting his body hair grow in, and it’s all Bucky can do to not faint, landing face-first into the deepening cleavage between his robust pecs, inhaling the musk of him. Every time Steve grunts with the effort of punching or kicking or tearing some offending villain to pieces, Bucky swears he feels faint. He has this completely involuntary feral reaction to the burly man he’s become. Hunky. Stocky. Ripped. Hefty. Whatever fucking word there is for the built he’s got going… it makes Bucky’s mouth water.

Of course, Steve’s still only two inches taller - 6’2” to Bucky’s 6’0” - but suddenly he feels a whole foot taller, and he feels twice as wide as Bucky. Those broad shoulders are only made wider, reinforced by the extra protein he’s eating, thickening his muscles and adding soft pudge; his pecs are still high and tight but even more… they’re swollen almost, added to by an irresistible layer of fat that Bucky has the primal urge to bite; the abs he had once upon a time, defined enough to use as a washboard have softened, especially after a hearty meal like a good lumberjack’s breakfast or a caveman’s dinner, just, these big plates with plenty of meat piled onto them, which turn his stomach into this drool-worthy curve, a little belly that sticks around until he somehow manages to digest it all; that fucking ass made even rounder and more shapely to the point that his pants all strain across it, his sweats especially, nearly splitting down the middle whenever he gets out of his comfy recliner; his thighs, oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, they’re ripe, rubbing together and trying to bust outta his jeans, his sweats, even his Captain America uniform.

Bucky has it bad.

If he weren’t so focused on trying to not let his animal out, growling and just fucking tackling Steve to the floor, he would feel terrible for how much he’s sexualizing his best pal. It seems no matter what he’s doing, Bucky’s caveman brain is thinking about how to best peel him out of his too-small clothes. Too tight when he was lean with rippling muscles, barely any body fat on him, and especially too fucking tight now when he has this delicious extra give to him. He looks like a size two sausage stuffed into a size one casing. Bucky curses his wardrobe at the same time that he would fall to his knees and thank it with his hands pressed together, praying to it. He wants to be there for the day that Steve busts out of it after a heavy, hearty, indulgent dinner.

‘Cause, listen, Bucky’s spank bank is just overflowing these days:

When the most recent battle is done and Steve bends over to pick up a fucking massive slab of concrete, he unintentionally gives Bucky a front-row seat to his thick ass. His curves barely fit in his uniform these days. Honestly, Bucky doesn’t know how he puts that godforsaken, tight-as-hell uniform on by himself anyway. And he doesn’t want to think about it. Not in public! The only way he can imagine it happening is with Steve naked save for a jock strap, alone in his room. First, he steps into the legs, then he works it up his calves, getting it to his thighs where it gets stuck. He’s outgrowing it. It’s a tight fit, but he still fits for now. At least, he fits when he shimmies and wiggles into it. Better than a damn stripper. Moving his body in this unintentionally, totally sexy way. Wiggling. Pulling. Squirming. Even jumping while he’s at it, pulling hard at the thick Kevlar, his biceps bulging - they’re bigger than Bucky’s fucking head now - grunting as he holds his breath, sucking in. Sucking in! His chest expanding without his pudgy, starter belly going anywhere, stubborn and jiggly.

Whenever he bends over, he gives Bucky a show, really. It doesn’t matter where they are...

When he’s bent over looking at the leaky pipe under their kitchen sink, his waist filling more of the open cabinet than it once would have. While he’s down there, his shirt rolls up over his soft little hips, the new weight just beginning to accumulate there. The start of what could be real love handles someday.

When he’s looking through the bottom drawer of the fridge, doing a head count before they head out for groceries. He’s not dressed yet, though, so he doesn’t have a belt to hold his pants up and his sweats slide down the shelf of his ass, displaying just enough of his asscrack for Bucky to feel starved, meaning he’s extra grumpy at having to wander around an overcrowded store. Shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Hungry and horny.

When he’s drawing on the couch and he accidentally lets a pencil fall onto the floor, so he has to get up, but, oops, it looks like it must’ve rolled under the couch so he gets even lower. Onto his knees and forearms. Searching blindly for the pencil… blind to Bucky’s eyes, perving out on how his thighs touch from the back now, his legs getting just as thick as his ass is. And it’s thick.

When he’s doing stretches on their balcony in the morning, breathing in the fresh air, doing some cat-cows, and inadvertently displaying his new belly that’s still rumbling through last night’s dessert. A classic, couple 'a slices of pie and ice cream. Too much pie and ice cream judging by how distended his belly looks.

When they’re getting some of their energy out now that they’re not constantly going out and avenging, half-retired, by sparing with each other in the gym. Sparing, kind of wrestling, too. They’re not trying to be tactical about it, they’re just having fun, being big kids, reminiscent of the days when they’d pull the mattress off the bed and start to play fighting on the floor. But they aren’t kids and Steve isn’t so much smaller than him, so Bucky doesn’t have to focus on finding that perfect balance of holding back just enough where it doesn’t seem like he is but he’s also not at risk of pushing Steve’s frail body too far. Now they can really whale on each other. Which is fun… until it isn’t. Because Bucky is laughing and sweating and actually starting to feel tired, and then he’s pinned, and he’s choking back a moan, sweating harder. Steve is on top of him. Steve is crushing him. Steve’s big, hot chest is against his back - Bucky can feel how he’s sweating through his skintight white t-shirt, his thick pecs squishing against his shoulder blades. Steve’s delightful, chubby, little belly is slotted perfectly into the small of his back. While fighting, Bucky’s shirt has risen up, and apparently, Steve’s has done the same, despite how firmly it had been clinging to his soft middle the last time he dared to sneak a peak because now their sweaty, hot skin is pressed together. Steve’s hairy tummy is tickling him, making Bucky want to squirm. He wants to moan. It’s a good fucking thing he’s face-down with Steve on top of him. He wants more than just to squirm and moan, he wants to hump the floor like an animal because with Steve’s tits pressed to his back and his belly squished to his back, it aligns his crotch right up against his ass. Bucky can feel Steve’s dick on his ass through the thin layers of their sweatpants and underwear. He can feel how heavy it is. And he’s thinking about how Steve’s dick probably blushes a dusky pink and gets wet at the time and how it probably curves a little and gets so thick when he’s hard and… this is where Bucky dies because Steve readjusts himself, making it worse by spreading his killer thighs to either side of Bucky’s legs, practically grinding into him, trapping him between his watermelon-crushing thighs. “Had enough?” Steve teases him with a shit-eating grin. God. Only if the fucker knew.

When Natasha adopts a new, abandoned kitten that she’s named Liho and they go over to play with him at Tasha’s apartment and Steve decides to grin like he does, always breath-taking, his smile the sweetest, most affectionate thing as he lifts Liho up above his head like Simba in the Lion King (yes, they’ve caught up on that modern pop culture reference, thank you very much). Bucky nearly goes cross-eyed, staring at his pecs. His t-shirt clings to his round, heavy tits. With his arms up, it forces his pecs to move up, too. High and plump. Bucky can see every detail of them, he can see every breath he takes, making them heave, and he’s almost able to pick out the tiniest creaking groan of the seams of his shirt screaming under all that pressure. Tasha doesn’t bat an eye, at the treatment Steve is giving her new companion, she just squeezes past Steve in her kitchen (is the apartment that small, or is Steve that big?), flicking one of his hard nipples. The points of them are obvious through the straining, thin fabric. She refills her mug with coffee but she doesn’t take a sip until she reminds Steve that if he wants to see how much more comfortable running can be, he only has to say the word and she’ll show him the magic of sports bras. Everyone can see that he needs it, and he might as well embrace it. They can even get matching ones if he wants. Her smile is razor-sharp, teasing. Bucky nearly chokes on his tongue, imagining the heavy mounds of his tits hoised up higher, giving him even more cleavage than he normally sports. Guh. Bucky wouldn’t survive.

When later during that same day, Steve decides he’s going to lie down on Natasha’s couch as they watch a movie - some Russian production that Tasha’s been telling Bucky about forever (he’s hardly paying attention and it’s Steve’s fault that he’s going to have to watch this again, on his own, during one of his sleepless nights when he can pay attention to it) - and Liho decides that Steve’s his favorite. So, he wanders back over to curl up on his soft chest and belly and starts fucking kneading his plush chest and belly like it’s the comfiest, fluffiest pillow ever. It probably fucking is! And Bucky can’t blame the kitten for purring so loudly - despite Steve’s and Tasha’s amusement at it - Bucky would be no better. He spends the rest of the evening biting the inside of his cheek and trying to banish all the mental images of his own hands kneading and squishing and groping those tits until Steve’s blushing, his mouth open, eyes heavily lidded, sweat beading at his hairline, begging Bucky to move on and touch him somewhere else, anywhere else! His nipples swollen and so hard. Irrestable. Bucky would indulge him… sort of. He would move on. But he’d have to give the same thorough attention to his soft belly, his growing hips, his thick thighs, and his fat ass. His body deserves to be pleasured until he’s out of his mind.

When Steve’s loose and warm, they’re hanging out in some back-alley sports bar in Brooklyn for a game, watching the feed on TV, downing beers and greasy bar food with Sam and some other guys from the VA, and a sip goes down the wrong pipe so Steve has to pound his chest with a closed fist, ending up not coughing but belching loudly. For everyone else, the sound is covered by the rowdy cheers filling the crowded, dimly lit space. But not for Bucky. For Bucky, Steve is the only thing in focus. Steve, with his looser fit shirt disguise, blending in, his baseball cap tugged down low on his forehead, shading his eyes, his beard grown out, thick, and… Bucky can’t take it. His body. The way his belly scrunches up when he sits down, bulging out further. The way his throat moves when he chugs from a long-necked bottle. The way his pecs jiggle when he jumps up excitedly, cheering loudly, and the similar way his belly wobbles at the same time. The way he groans at the end of his beer burp, voice rough from yelling all night and soaked in hoppy, malty richness. The way his thighs spread out over his bar stool, expanding, stressing the seams of his jeans. He’s taking up so much space with his broad shoulders, excitable hand gestures as he talks, and his manspreading. Yet, it’s still not enough. His thighs fill out his tight, dark-wash denim so well that even when he’s manspreading, his thighs still touch. Bucky aches to curl up in his lap and kiss him, feeling his beard tickling his face. He wants the heat of that big, big body underneath him. He wants to feel the hot line of his erection when he grinds down into him - their stomachs pressed together, Steve’s heavy with bloating, greasy, fattening bar appetizers.

Bucky’s spank bank is over-fucking-flowing as Steve starts putting on weight and if Bucky didn’t know better, he would think Steve is doing it to him on purpose, teasing him, trying to get him to jump his bones 😏

[poisonpercy]

i would be most intrigued to know the reason you hate nico di angelo

that sounds threatening oh god no im just gen curious

Lol you’re good and don’t sound threatening (to me)

As the self proclaimed “#1 nico fandom hater” that I am, I love this ask. Anyway, that being said, I don’t hate Nico di Angelo. My problem lies with fandom and how Nico is perceived. Before I get into it, here’s a collage of tumblr posts that represent my feelings on Nico:

And my favorite post that fully sums up my thoughts on Nico:

I’m going to be making some generalizations throughout this which I don’t love, but it gets my point across the best.

Canon Nico (specifically in pjo) = good! I like this little boy! Little cutie and a little shit. What’s not to like! (hoo!Nico = eh, he’s ok I guess. He didn’t need to have POV chapters and should have taken on a more minor role imo)

Fanon Nico ≠ not good! Please burn it with fire 😃

FYI: when I talk about canon Nico, I’m referring to the original characterization of him throughout pjo (maybe some hoo, but no toa).

So this problem happens across every fandom it seems like, and I have a dislike for every character that gets treated like this throughout all my fandoms. Not everyone is like that, but I am.

So what am I talking about? It’s the blatant fanonization of Nico to the detriment of his character and others. It’s taking popular fanon takes regarding Nico (behavior, personality, relationships, etc.) and insisting that they’re canon even when evidence shows the opposite.

A big problem for me stems from the solangelo ship. If you like it/ship it, that’s great! I personally hate it… like a lot. To me it came out of nowhere and the inclusion of it in canon has brought in fanon concepts into canon that overall damages the integrity the the wider scope of the riordanverse.

What do I mean? I can’t speak too much on canon since I only read up to The Burning Maze and refuse to read any further in toa or tsats, but generally what I’ve seen from others is that canonical events/their perceptions of them have been skewed in Nico’s favor to put down Percy and other demigods, even when Nico is more at fault. Not saying this is 100% in canon but it is in fanon. And this view is widely spread by people (not all) who like Nico, and it’s very hard to ignore if you don’t like it because it is everywhere.

Saying things like no one cared for Nico when he first came to chb is blatantly untrue and makes me think that if you have that opinion, you didn’t read botl. People didn’t hate him because he was the son of Hades because the vast majority did not know Nico was the son of Hades! He was mostly unclaimed from chub’s perspective. It’s just the people that went on the quest in ttc that knew because of Bianca.

Also like Percy straight up worried for that kid day and night. He felt responsible for Nico even though Percy himself was a child! Nico was the one that was pushing Percy and everyone else away. That was his own doing, though understandable. Don’t push Nico’s actions onto other characters to villainies them in Nico’s story.

Also, for some reason people still blame Percy for Bianca’s death and then come to the conclusion that Nico hates and (still) blames Percy for it. He doesn’t. If you don’t like Percy, that’s fine (but why are you reading the series then?) but don’t spew hate about a character on things that aren’t true. Nico isn’t going to be your bff if you do so.

There’s also the belief that Percy is like abusive to Nico because of that one scene in tlo. Please put on your thinking caps if you genuinely believe only Percy was in the wrong. Percy only lashed out at Nico because Nico betrayed his trust. Also, once again they’re both kids. They’re going to have immature reactions, but you also have to remember the stress of the situation that compounds everything that these characters do.

Ok, back to solangelo. There’s this weird codependent relationship that fans tend to force on Nico and Will. Other ships do it too but solangelo stands out to me. And maybe it’s because I just don’t like solangelo, or have a favorable opinion on Will Solace, or stopped reading toa, but I genuinely don’t think there’s much grounds to Will’s character besides being Nico’s boyfriend. I know he gets some more depth throughout toa (and possible tsats) but that only happened because he was Nico’s boyfriend. Like he was Nico’s boyfriend before he was Will Solace.

And because of this, fans generally tend to make Will this mouthpiece in fandom regarding Nico. He feels like a self-insert and not in a good way. And because of this, there’s a lot of negativity towards other characters in fandom that fans use Will’s “voice” to push in name of defending Nico or whatever. Like babes, you’re projecting. I don’t know Will, but the Will from the limited time we knew him in pjo wouldn’t speak that way/share those views.

Also the weird patient/doctor relationship solangelo has going on gives me the ick. Espresso with how it’s portrayed in fandom. Like there’s this weird power dynamic that just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

I’m rambling at this point, sorry. I’m only on 2 hours of sleep right now so forgive me lmao.

I won’t go too much more in depth but Nico also gets infantilized a ton by Nico/solangelo fans which isn’t cool. He’s a kid, but he’s not a fucking baby.

Also making Nico this 1-dimensional emo, sad boi type character is not cool. He’s so much more to him. When you reduce characters to a singular trait, it leads to all the issues I described. Ok I’m just going to leave it at that.

TLDR: I don’t hate Nico di Angelo, I just have a lot of problems with his fans.