#the big fat one piece project

[sanguinewolves]

im so tired

[nanaslutt]

Do you think any of the jjk men could be into curvy/thicker women?

oh are u kidding? 100% absolutely. I might be projecting bcs i myself happen to be into thicker women, but allow me to allaborate… ahem…..

NSFW & SWF

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

SFW

Toji would absolutely love getting on his knees in from of you and sliding those soft knee high socks up your legs, his big hands caressing how your beautifully legs feel covered by the fabric. Using his massive palms to jiggle them around, smiling to himself as he watched them move.

Choso’s brain would self destruct seeing you in public for the first time, how your curves fill out your clothes fucking perfectly???? the way your hips move when you walk???? Your cheeks, how your skin looked soft to the touch. He had never felt like towards anything or anyone before, but something about your body in that pretty green sundress you were wearing was making him feel all kinda of flustered.

Gojo would be so obsessed with your ass. He would constantly be laying on your ass while you’re on your phone texting your friends, occasionally turning his head to bite into the fat of your ass, making sure to leave kisses on it afterwards. Groping it while you were doing dishes, slapping it while you stood in line at a coffee shop, the way it just looked so absolutely perfect in every. single. pair of pants you wore.

One of Geto’s favorite past times is to makeout with your tummy… he would be laying on your thighs, just caressing them while you relaxed together, and suddenly your shirt is pushed up under your breasts and he’s massaging the skin of your waist, kissing your tummy and hips, pulling back to stare at the stretch marks on your skin and shake his head in disbelief at how pretty they looked, dropping his head back to pepper more kisses on them. You better bet this extends to every other part of your body as well.

The first time Nanami saw you, you were in a bikini, and he had to sit down because all of the blood in his brain flooded to his toes. He had to cover his mouth and stop his jaw from dropping as he watched you descend into the water. The waves crashing against your skin, making you giggle at how cold it felt. The way time froze when you got out of the water, droplets falling down your body of which he was very jealous of, how the color of the bikini complimented your complexions so fucking well, he just had to ask you out to dinner, he needed to see how that perfect body looked in a nice dress.

NSFW

I just know Toji would love eating it from the back too. Spreading your ass and burying his face in your cunt, using his big hands to massage the fat of your ass to bring you back against his mouth. He would pull back after absolutly ravaging your pretty pussy and leave mean slaps on your ass, relishing in the way your skin recoiled at the contact.

Gojo would happily die between your thighs while you sat on his face. He would beg you 24/7 to suffocate him with your pussy. Thick thighs squeezing around his head while he tongue fucked you like his life depended on it. His hips would fuck up into the air at just how soft and supple your thighs felt in his big hands while he gripped them for support.

Don’t even get me started on Nanami. If you ever sent him photos of new lingerie you were trying on in some dressing room.. oh boy. The red background of the wallpaper, the dim lighting, the way your thighs and stomach were squeezed by the decorative straps of the fabric, how your tits were absolutely spilling out of the lacey bra????? He would get hard instantly, not being able to stop the fantasies of covering your mouth and fucking into your wet pussy right in that dressing room. Ripping the not-even-paid-for piece of clothing for the sin of obstructing his veiw of your body);&(&:$

Choso would be absolutely enamored with your love handles too i just know it. His large frame standing behind you in a mirror, gripping the fat on your waist so hard, his nails digging into the skin as he looked in the mirror at how the skin squished between his fingers. Not being able to look away from that sight combined with your tits freely slapping against your skin from his rough thrusts… He was gonna cum way too fast from just how hot you looked.

Geto would love to watch your ass ripple back against him when he gave you mean thrusts into the bed. He had you ass up, face down in the sheets, and he was fucking into you like a mad man. Spreading your ass to get a better view of your pussy that was absolutely swallowing up his thick cock, the way your wetness was creating a sticky mess on his pelvis made him feel drunk. He would yank your hair back. making you bend your body into a mean arch and moaning at how your body folded for him…..

safe to say I think the jjk men like thicc girls..

[glossysoap]

price is a thigh man (no i’m not projecting again) and loves using your thighs as a stress ball. will squeeze and knead and poke and kiss and bite your thighs mindlessly.

sitting on his lap, he’s kneading your thighs. laying with your legs across him, he’s running his hands up and down just enjoying the smooth skin. sitting in bed with your legs out, he’s flopped beside your legs so he can nip and kiss your thighs. they’re his favourite pillows and he can’t keep himself away from your thighs.

touchy ; john price | o’ captain challenge

OH HE SOOOO FUCKING IS. he cannot keep his hands off you. inspired by both my convos with you and my convos with @loveyhoneydovey <3

note: 18+, afab, some use of fem pet names, face sitting, oral (f receiving and m receiving), 69, this kinda got away from me and became not limited to just thigh worship LMAO it became price being down bad for you in every way possible <3 also my first entry for @glitterypirateduck’s price challenge! using the prompts:

word count: 3k

69. 69ing happens (it’s my first time writing that, so pls be gentle lol. also keep in mind that that isn’t the focus of the piece, so that particular scene isn’t super long.)

83. Face sitting

93. Breast worship

It’s like a magnetic force, honestly. He sees you and he has to touch you. He sees your breasts and his arms are itching to snake around your chest. He sees your hips and the meat of your thighs and he can’t help but reach for them.

It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he will be touching you.

If you’re in the kitchen, standing at the hot stove, he’ll come up behind you and press himself up against you.

His body flush against yours, warm chest pressed against your back and his face nestled in the crook of your neck. His beard scratching at your skin as he leaves open mouthed kisses along the span of your neck, moving down your shoulder. You can feel him grinning against your skin as he hears your breath hitch and gasp. The wooden spoon fell from your hand onto the stove with a clatter.

“Shhh, I got you.”

He even leans down a bit so he’s face level with your back, making it even easier for him to grope and grab at your thighs. Squeezing at the plush flesh that’s so fucking soft, so fucking warm against his rough and calloused hands.

“Love these fuckin’ thighs. Just wanna grab ‘em all day long. Wanna mark em up.”

More often than not, if there were no pressing matters, he would reach around you to turn the stove off. Then he would turn you around so you were facing him, his gaze burning into your face. He used one hand to cup your chin and tilt it up, making you look up at him. He was so close to you, you could feel his breath fanning against your skin. You feel your cheeks burn as you see his mouth quirked up into a grin, his eyes crinkling at the edges. His stormy blues were filled with mirth and mischief as his hands moved to trail down your back.

“Pretty girl.” He murmurs, voice sending shivers down your spine, only intensified by his warm hands on the small of your back. Your hands instinctively found their home on his abdomen, resting against the hard muscle covered in a layer of fat. All warm and soft against your palms.

His eyes flit from your eyes down to your lips, watching as you bite your lip between your teeth. Before you know it, he brings one big hand to cup your cheek as he presses his lips against yours. He holds your face, keeping you close and using his thumb to caress small circles on your skin. While he’s busy kissing you breathless, his other hand has slid under your shirt.

His hand is warm and comforting against your skin as he holds you close to him, so secure. So safe.

Your mouths slot together perfectly, as if they were molded to the other. The way his rough, slightly chapped lips fit perfectly against your soft, plump lips as his tongue dipped inside your mouth. The way your tongues mingled as he tasted every bit of you that he could.

He pours every ounce of love into the kiss, every nip and lick and peck. He wanted, needed you to feel how much he loved you. How determined he is to come back to you every day. How he would crawl back to you if that’s what it took.

As you slipped even further into the kiss, your hands slid up past his abdomen, stopping at his chest. You nipped playfully at his lip, moaning into his mouth as you felt the hand on your back pulling you in further. As you nipped his lip, you felt his heart race even quicker under your hand - a telltale show of how his body was affected by you.

He smiled against your mouth, eyes peeking open briefly to glance at your blissed out expression, before he reluctantly moves his hand from your cheek and down to join his other hand at your back. You gasp into his mouth as his hands trail lower, lower and lower, until his big hands are cupping your ass.

Before you knew it, you’re yelping as he’s lifting you up and setting you on the counter. You lay back on your propped up elbows and watch as he lowers himself down until he’s face level with your legs. You watch as his expression transforms from one of passion to one of pure hunger, his lips curling into a smile smirk. His stormy eyes darting up to your face before darting back between your legs, and with just that single look you felt your legs spread apart on their own.

He laughed at that, a rumble from deep in his chest. With nimble fingers, he tugs on the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, all the way off of you. He absentmindedly flings the pair of panties to the floor. He gently takes your calf in his hand, hiking it over his broad shoulder. His eyes darken at the sight of your wet cunt all exposed for him, all soaked and begging for his attention.

“So fuckin’ good for me. Y’ don’t even have to think about it, huh? Being obedient just comes naturally, hm?” He murmurs against your calf, his beard scratching your skin. He presses a kiss against your leg while keeping his eyes on you, drinking in your blissed out expression. He loves seeing your brows knit together and your pupils blown wide with lust. Your chest heaved as you panted in anticipation.

“Mm-hmm! Wanna be good for you.” You whine, absentmindedly bucking your hips, desperate for him to touch you.

He chuckles, his other hand finding your other leg and hiking it over his other shoulder.

“Oh, you have,” He croons praise into the crook of your knee, pressing another kiss to your skin. His big hand squeezing the plush skin of your thigh so gently, enjoying how soft it is beneath his calloused skin. His eyes bore into yours as he continued kissing up your knee, slowly trailing to your thigh. He leaves wet, open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh, paying special attention to your stretch marks. His tongue left wet stripes of saliva along those stripes, before sucking the skin with a moan. The closer he got to your cunt, the more you could feel his breath fanning hot against your pussy with every kiss, lick and bite.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll take care of you,” Is all he says before devouring you.

His mouth is gentle and slow on your cunt, all languid and planned strokes of his tongue along your folds. Lapping up your juices as his strong hands grip your thighs, holding you impossibly closer to his mouth. He moans into your cunt at your taste, sending vibrations straight to your core.

“Fuck, John,” He hears you moan out his name, and he smiles against your cunt.

He flattens his tongue and leaves wide licks over your entrance, before pressing open mouthed kisses on your slit. He’s teasing in his ministrations, never fully dipping his tongue inside you, just licking along the entrance. You don’t know how long he spent cruelly teasing you with his methodical licking, it could’ve been two minutes or ten — but either way, it was driving you mad.

You whine and buck your hips into his mouth, desperate for him to stop teasing you. Those little licks and kisses made that heat grow in your core but it wasn’t near enough to make that knot come undone.

He grins as he hears moans and whimpers fall from your mouth with every lick and kiss, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needed to feel you absolutely fall apart on mouth, he needed you to drench his tongue and soak his beard. He needed to hear you wail and scream his name.

So he didn’t hesitate to dive in, dipping his tongue inside your hole and lapping at your juices. “Fuck, fuck—,” He heard you cry out. He licked along your warm walls, moaning with every lap of his tongue. He savored your taste with fervor, eating you out sloppily with no care for how loud he was being or how many wet sounds he was making.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He moans into your pussy, wrapping his arms around your thighs and holding you still. “Want you to soak me, c’mon.”

The wind was knocked out of you as he began paying special attention to your swollen clit. He heard you mewl as he began giving delicate licks to the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling your hand bury in his hair and hold him between your thighs.

Your hips bucked against his face as you chased your high, feeling that bundle of warmth and tightness in your stomach grow with every passing second. What he did next pushed you even closer to the edge, leaving your legs twitching and your hips jolting. He let his tongue trail around your bud, circling it with a satisfied hum.

“Fuck! That’s it, that’s it—,” You all but shout, feeling yourself teetering just on the edge, so fucking close to gushing all over his tongue.

“Yeah? Like that?” He teases, his voice muffled against your heat. Not even waiting for an answer (as if you could give a coherent response) before he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked.

He watched with a grin as your back arched and your face contorted in pleasure, a wail falling from your lips as your pussy spasmed against his tongue. He growled against your sensitive flesh as you gushed all over his tongue, your delicious juices soaking him.

“Attagirl.”

If you’re just relaxing in bed, you’ll find him laying his head on or between your thighs with a content grin. Most of the time, that cuddling will escalate to skin slapping against skin, moans and panting echoing throughout the room.

Only a few hours after you were devoured in the kitchen, you were laying on your spacious bed (where he would soon have his way with you again).

He started out by climbing into bed and crawling on top of you, nudging your legs apart with his knee so he would have space to lay between. He wastes no time in laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your stomach and laying his arms next to you. He was all warm and heavy on top of you, a welcome grounding force against you.

You think it’s innocent cuddling, but you’re proven wrong when his hands slide under your thin top and move to cup your tits. He grins into your stomach as he hears you gasp, his thumbs working to tweak your sensitive nipples. He enjoys hearing you whine and feeling your chest heave as he rubs the hardened nubs with his calloused fingers. Every once in a while, he’ll give your breasts a good squeeze, humming against your stomach in approval.

In one hand, he keeps teasing the sensitive bud and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, while the other hand is working on pushing your shirt all the way up, fully exposing your tits to him.

Before you know it, he’s moved up your body so he was face level with those same breasts he was busy teasing.

“Mmm, there you go.” Is all he murmurs before wrapping his lips around your nipple, staring up at you all the while. Your breath hitches as you feel his tongue lap at your sensitive bud, his lips suckling and teasing at the flesh. You watch with lust blown eyes as he licks and sucks at your skin, all while still teasing your other nipple with his hand.

He leaves your nipple alone for a minute in favor of littering bites along your breast, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth with a moan before releasing it. Every bite is followed by his tongue laving over the teeth marks, his beard scratching your skin.

With every bite and lick and suck, you feel yourself grow more aroused and hungry for his touch. He grins against your nipple as he feels you buck against him.

“Y’ needy? Hm?” He asks, all muffled against your breast but you understand him all the same, nodding with furrowed brows.

He takes his time, he doesn’t rush to make you come.

He keeps sucking and pawing at your tits, as if he had all the time in the world. Moaning into your flesh, licking at your skin and savoring the taste. Biting and nibbling at your skin, leaving teeth marks with every suck and nip. Your hand flew up to clutch at his head, tugging at his hair as you held him close. He hummed against your nipple at the slight tingle that he felt as you pulled his hair.

Slowly, you feel a ghosting touch of his free hand (the one that wasn’t busy teasing your other nipple) trailing down past your waistband and into your panties. Your eyes flutter shut and your hips buck into his hand as you feel his fingers trace over your entrance, gathering your juices and spreading it along your folds.

“So fuckin’ wet, doll.”

His mouth goes back to work on your hardened bud, flattening his tongue to lick wide stripes on the sensitive skin. While his tongue is lapping at your flesh and sucking and biting, he’s using two fingers to dip into your folds.

“Oh, look at that. Just.. slides right in for me.” He murmurs muffled praise against your nipple, tongue laving over the hardened bud.

He tries to go slow but they slide right in on their own because of how wet you were, and he can’t help but chuckle. They easily slide in all the way to the knuckle, soaking his digits in your juices and making wet noises every time he pumped his fingers in and out.

“Mmm, fuck,” You whimper at the combined feeling of his fingers pumping in and out, and his mouth worshipping your breast. Your shaky hand fell from his head as he moved to worship your other breast.

His tongue immediately started licking the soft skin of your breast, grazing the flesh and leaving kisses in his wake. As his tongue savored the sweat on your skin, his fingers were savoring the warmth of your cunt, pumping in and out of your tight hole. He smiled against your skin as he heard you moan out his name like a prayer, dripping off your lips like honey.

“Please, please, John. Need more—,” You whined, voice cracking from pure desperation and anticipation. You needed to be full. Full with more fingers, full with his cock. Preferably the latter.

He let go of your nipple with a pop, grinning up at you with his eyes crinkled at the edges.

“Be patient, love.” Is all he croons before he’s reluctantly pulling his fingers out of your pussy, and sitting up from your chest. Your pleading eyes follow him as he moves off of you, lips even pouting a bit as it seems like he’s going to leave you hanging.

You quickly realize that he’s going to do anything but leave you hanging.

He wastes no time in laying down beside you, his head resting comfortably on his pillow.

“Up.” He nods over to himself, gesturing for you to get up with two slick fingers (the same fingers that were just buried in your cunt). “C’mon, get up. On my face. Now, love.”

You crawl out of bed before booking your fingers around the waistband of your panties, then pulling them down until they’re pooling around your ankles. Your legs feel like jelly as you step out of your panties, before turning back to climb into bed once more. You crawled over to him on your hands and knees, still hearing your heartbeat pounding in your ears from how aroused you were.

You gulp once you’ve crawled over to his chest, suddenly feeling antsy to sit on his face with your full weight. He notices your slight hesitation and sits himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“You’re in your head again, doll. Come over here so your Captain can fuck those thoughts right out of your head.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, his promise to fuck those bad thoughts right out of your head. Before you knew it, you were closing that last bit of distance and crawling next to his head.

He beckoned you onto his face with those same two fingers once more, looking up at you with an eager expression.

You swallow as you carefully swing your leg over him so you’re straddling his face. Not yet putting your full weight on him, just barely hovering over his face. You place your hands on his abdomen to hold you steady, enjoying the warmth and hard muscle under your palms.

Almost immediately, John’s big hands are groping at your thighs and squeezing the plush flesh in his calloused grip. His thumbs rub hot circles into your soft skin as he lifts his head up, so he’s able to press soft kisses against your thighs. He wants you to feel every bit of love and appreciation as he leaves wet, open mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, littering small bites every now and then.

He moaned into your skin when he left a particularly hard bite, lapping at your skin afterwards as a balm. He especially focused on your stretch marks, tracing them with his tongue and peppering them with kisses.

Every bit of attention and praise he paid to your thighs and stretch marks slowly helped build your courage to fully sit your weight on him.

But he wasn’t a patient man. You were hovering above his face, keeping your his cunt just out of his reach and he didn’t like that at all. He didn’t like that he couldn’t lick up every drop of wetness that he could see soaking your cunt. He didn’t like that you weren’t letting him suck on your clit, or stick his tongue inside your heat. He wanted you sitting on his fucking face, smothering him with your soaking cunt, and he wanted it now.

“I didn’t say hover, I said fucking sit.” Is all he growls before his arms wrapped around your thighs and pulled you down to sit on his face.

He was so fucking sloppy and messy and passionate that you couldn’t help but immediately let a moan fall from your lips. Your hips started rocking against his mouth, any inhibitions completely melted away as his tongue absolutely devoured you.

He flattens his tongue against your entrance before taking wide, greedy licks of your juices. He moans in approval against your entrance as he savors how fucking perfect you taste.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Can’t get enough of you.” You hear him all but growl into your cunt, his husky muffled voice sending vibrations to your core.

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out, feeling that bundle of warmth build back up in your stomach. You were already close to your release when John had withdrawn his fingers from your cunt, so it wouldn’t take you long at all to return back to that peak.

As you leaned forward on your hands that were planted on his abdomen, you saw his hips bucking into the air. It seemed like he was doing it unconsciously, like his body was chasing its’ own high as he was determined to yank yours out of you.

Before you knew it, you were leaning forward so your tits were pressed up against his stomach. Then your hands moved on autopilot to slide under the waistband of his boxers and pull out his throbbing cock.

The moment you did, his hips jerked and bucked, and you felt his tongue start worshipping your swollen clit. You moan brokenly, voice cracking as his name falls from your lips. Your hips keep grinding down onto his face as you take his cock in your hands. It’s angry and throbbing, with pearlescent liquid dribbling from the bulbous tip. You were practically drooling at the sight.

You didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth, starting with sucking the head of his cock and leaving small licks on the tip. You felt him gasp against you, before his tongue dips and curls into your pussy. You moaned at both the feeling of his tongue penetrating you and the taste of his pre, sending vibrations to his core. Those vibrations made him moan into your cunt and him buck his hips into your mouth.

“Mm-hmm,” You moaned praise around his cock, wanting him to feel just as good as he’s made you feel the entire day.

You wanted him to just let go. You wanted to hear him moan your name unabashedly while his hips bucked into your mouth. You wanted to taste his warm spend and feel him filling your mouth, you wanted everything he could give you.

You started bobbing your head, stroking his cock at the base while your mouth works on the head of his cock. You suckle the head of his cock to focus the stimulation on where he’s most sensitive. If the way he groans and clutches your thighs to pull you impossibly closer was any indication, it worked.

Minutes passed with you laying on top of him, your cunt soaking his beard as he devoured you, and his cock sitting in your throat. It could’ve been five minutes or fifty. (Neither of you would complain if it was even longer.)

With every moan that one of you let out, it pushed the other even closer to their orgasm. It was a never ending cycle, until it wasn’t.

Until his lips wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked, and his tongue curled inside your cunt at the same time. Until you took his cock all the way to the base, where you could feel the tip hitting the back of your throat, and swallowed.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

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[nappingmoon]

quick lil fluffy blurb about toji <33

thinking about married, domestic life with toji and you come home from coffee with your girlfriends to an empty house. you call out for him and hear a little "outside" ring in through the open window. its a beautiful late spring day as you walk onto your porch outside and see your husband, shirtless, hunched over what looks to be half of a cabinet, wooden planks and screws. you approach taking in the way the muscles in his back work in tandem with each other as he works to sand some of the edges of the wood. a bit of sweat drips down by his brow, the exertion taking its toll even as a light breeze whisks through the air. it catches in your dress, the soft fabric fluttering around your legs as you come to stand behind him.

"what are you making, toji? it's been a while since you've pulled out your woodworking stuff, did you find a new project?" you ask trying to peek at all of the pieces he has.

"saw ya geekin out over a cabinet on your pinterest board. figured it wasn't too hard ta make from scratch, no big deal or nothing. how was lunch with the girls?"

"what cab-" you start, but think back to the little board you had dedicated to pieces you wanted to decorate your home with. most of them were just fragments of a dream cottage you'd conjured in your head but recently, you couldn't stop thinking about maybe splurging on a gorgeous piece to give you a little more storage and a space to show off the books you had bought recently and the little clay statue your toddler made you in his art class. "shut up you are not making the white cabinet oh my god!" your voices rises nearly two octaves in excitement and disbelief. "how did you even see that! when did you get a pinterest account?"

"you made me get one so i could see the board you dedicated to us, princess. i hop on it every couple'a months ta see what you're thinking about. saw this thing ya keep adding to your collections and had some pieces left over after the swing chair. jus' bought a few more boards n' hinges. wanted to wait for you before getting paint in case you wanted a different color." you truly could burst from all of the love you had inside of you for this man. he wasn't always the best with words, but actions like these made reminded you every day why you said yes all those years ago.

left speechless, you simply lean over his back and throw your arms around his neck, pressing a big fat kiss to his cheek, hoping he feels the love radiate from you to him. "hey, get off, doll. m' all sweaty!" he says, bringing a hand to your shoulder and lightly pushing. you ignore his protest and tighten your arms before laying a small assault of kisses all over the side of his face. when you're satisfied, you pull back, seeing a small hint of fading red kiss marks left from your lip stick.

"thank you, toji. so much. can i help you with anything?" you ask, giddy.

"'ve got things covered here, doll. 'm a little thirsty though, would ya mind getting me a water or something?" he replies, and you twirl immediately, eager to fix him up a cold lemonade and some fruit. before you can get a step away and tell him 'of course,' his hand reaches up and grabs yours, tugging you back. you nearly fall but he's got you with a steady hand at the small of your back. he leans over and steals a kiss from your stunned form. "that's better. thanks babe." he says as he releases you, leaving a light pat on your butt before he crouches back down over the planks he still needed to sand.

what a gorgeous day.

[bluesidez]

The Love Lab presents:

One Bite for You, One Bite for Me

💗 THIS IS MY 100 200 300 FOLLOWER SPECIAL!

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x AFAB!Reader

summary: One of the things you and Miguel bond over is delicious food. One day, you notice that your clothes aren’t fitting like they used to. Miguel is there to remind you how beautiful you are.

content warning: established relationship but they’re not married, 18+ so MDNI, non-Spiderman Miguel, LOTS OF MENTIONS OF FOOD AND DRINKS, weight gain, cycles, insecurity about body, alcohol, body worship, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾), cunnilingus, lots of praise, a little Spanish (if wrong please lmk)

credit for art + dividers: Me! + @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

a/n: This is actually the first fic I wrote when my Miguel hyperfixation came back in full force. I based it off of this video and a comment saying that girls are usually the ones that gain weight super quick in a relationship. Please know that gaining weight is not a bad thing, especially in this story. Relationship weight can be positive and food is here to nourish your body! Also know that everyone’s body is different. Our bodies will react to things in different, unique ways. If you’re ever feeling icky about your weight/health, please take a step back, breathe, and know that you’re beautiful no matter what. There are also sources out there that can help you if your thoughts overpower your heart. Please don’t hesitate to seek help.

word count: 4.3k

To all my food-lovers and fellow plus-size girlies, kisses to you! You’re beautiful!

SPRING 🥭

“Baby!”

You grinned as you heard Miguel’s shout from the front door. His voice had a giddy tilt as if he made a breakthrough in one of his projects.

“I was finally able to stop by the new Jamaican spot before they sold out and look what I got us,” Miguel says before he slides the take-out bags across the table. “Ribs, oxtails, rice and beans, mac, and your favorite…fried plantains!”

You quickly untie the bags, happy to have a break from your research paper, and immediately get hit with the smell of spices both sweet and savory. “Oh my god! That looks incredible.”

After frantically digging around for a plastic fork, you were finally able to pull a piece of meat off the oxtail. It looked mouth-watering and tender. One bite of the meat and you’re immediately groaning, slumped in your chair. You nod your head and scrunch your face, watching as the juice from the gravy soaks into the pieces of rice stuck at the bottom of the take-out plate.

“That is so fucking good, Mig. No wonder there’s never any combos left by the time you leave work.”

Miguel just watches you eat with a glint in his eyes, happy to see you so relaxed and enjoying the food. He reaches into the second bag, pulling out two bottles of juice, “And to make it better, I got their fruit juice, made fresh daily-”

“Passionfruit and mango flavor!” Your eyes got big as you jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew how much of a juice fanatic you were, so this drink was just the cherry on top of the large ice cream sundae that was your generous boyfriend.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled and gave his cheek a fat smooch. You patted his chest twice and moved back to set up the table, “Now, hurry and wash up so we can eat this before it gets cold! We’ve got shows to watch.”

“Entendido, I’ll be right back”

SUMMER 🍦

You and Miguel were walking hand in hand along the Cancun Hotel Zone, taking in all the sights. Miguel’s job had given him a promotion along with an extremely high bonus, so what better way to celebrate than to use his PTO and bring the love of his life on vacation?

Granted, the area you guys were currently in was a little touristy, borderline bougie, but it was all worth it when Miguel got to see your eyes light up as you watched the turquoise waves fade into white foam along the shoreline.

You wobbled a bit while clinging to Miguel’s side, a little tipsy from the frozen paloma you drank to pair with today’s lunch. It was a waterfront restaurant with a live band so the vibes were just right for a little bit of liquid fun.

The downside was that the two of you were supposed to meet up with Miguel’s family later that evening and while you were fine with the confidence boost you were sporting, you wanted to be more alert when speaking with loved ones. Plus, you needed to give a good impression to the relatives you hadn’t met yet. It will be nice to put a face to the names of Miguel’s childhood.

“What do you say we stop and get some ice cream?” Miguel suggested, chuckling at you when you grinned up at him, ecstatic over the proposed plan.

“You know me so well,” you said, arms reaching around his waist, face squished into the side of his chest. “I would absolutely love some ice cream. Cool me down from the inside.”

Miguel chuckled and kissed the top of your head. You were especially cute when you got like this.

FALL 🍕

“Baby, check this out,” Miguel shouted, finally returning to your table with your food.

The fair was packed full of people, especially due to the pop-up food truck festival happening that same week. You had never seen more people run to get fried turnip greens and loaded fries in your life.

Still, this was just another chance to hang out with Miguel. You really didn’t care where you went with him, as long as you got to see that pretty smile.

You look down at the table and see what he brought back. Before your eyes sat the most un-Miguel order ever: birria pizza and two walking tacos, one Hot Cheetos and the other Dorritos.

“Dorilocos, Miguel. Really?” you raised an eyebrow watching him try to steady the open chip bags over some spread-out napkins.

“Amor, don’t look at me like that! I had to get them because Gabriel kept talking my ear off about this new food truck that made them better than the ones we used to eat on our trips back home. I, for one, don’t believe that for a second, so what better way to test that theory than to eat it with my baby?” Miguel gave the saddest look he could muster and slid his hand across the table, trying to convince you to indulge with him.

“Fine, fine. Don’t give me that look,” you say, pulling off a slice of the pizza, making the cheese stretch as long as you can. “Just don’t complain to me from the bathroom while your stomach fights to digest something it hasn’t had in over a decade!”

Miguel pursed his lips while shoveling as much food as he could on one Doritto, “Shouldn’t I be the one telling you that? That’s a lot of cheese, babe.”

“Oh my god, some queso tears up my stomach one time and you can’t let that go, can you?”

“It was once and yet you were in agony about it for days. I think I’m allowed to remind you at least monthly.”

“Just eat your food and leave me and my iron stomach alone. We’ll see what happens between today and tomorrow,” you quip, pulling your phone out ready to record Miguel’s reaction to send to Gabriel.

Miguel takes a bite and just leans against the table, head slumped on his clean head.

“Dios mio, he was right. This can’t be happening,” he groaned, slightly annoyed that Gabriel wasn’t exaggerating. He was also shocked at the fact that someone even came close to getting the local snack right.

You giggled behind your phone, happy that his reaction worked in your favor. You zoomed in a little more on his face, capturing him smacking his lips and licking off excess sauce. He was so zoned in on his food that he didn’t even notice you with your phone up.

“Is it good, Mig?” you asked, mirth in your voice.

He looked at you ready to answer but his eyes snapped to your camera and started to whine, “Amor, please stop recording!”

With a small smile, you made sure to add the video to your folder full of Miguel. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You just look so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Miguel just mumbled to himself while stacking up another chip, neck heated over the interaction. “Here, just try this,” he said, holding a nacho close to your mouth.

You opened your mouth, just barely getting the chip in. Cupping your hand under your head, you begin to hum, the flavors all tangy, spicy, and savory. “I don’t know what your childhood Dorilocos tasted like, but this is really freaking good.”

“Just know that this one is only slightly better. By 0.00001% to be exact,” he said, rubbing sauce off of the corner of your lips and licking it off. The movement was muscle memory for him as he always liked to watch your face when you ate food, especially when it came to any nostalgic or homecooked dishes you never tried before. It warmed his heart to see you find comfort in his favorite foods.

“Well, I can tell you it’s 100% better than the ‘Taco Tuesday’ luncheon my job hosted last month. Nothing but unseasoned ground beef, endless black olives, and store-bought guacamole for two hours,” you respond, shuddering at the memory of soppy taco shells and your coworkers complaining about how spicy the mild salsa was.

“On second thought, this is absolutely a step up. Was the guacamole name brand at least?” He asked, peering up at you with a twist on his lips.

“I’m pretty sure it was a grocery store brand, so no.”

“Damn.”

WINTER 🍫

You were at your apartment in your bed, completely covered under the comforter with a fluffy blanket on top.

It was snowing heavily outside and you were freezing. However, your heater tended to make your apartment feel like a sauna, so you kept snatching the blanket off only to put it back on minutes later. Plus, your cycle was here. Your cramps left you lying on your side, rolling back and forth between the cool side of the bed and the warm side.

Physically, you were exhausted, but mentally, you knew you had so much to get done.

Christmas was just around the corner but you still had so many presents left to buy and wrap. Your job was doing the dreaded Secret Santa gift exchange and you were stuck wondering what gift would appeal to the stuck-up director in the accounting department.

You and Miguel were also hosting a small Christmas party amongst your friends, and there was still food left to buy. To top it all off, you were worried about your gift for Miguel, wondering if a silly little apron saying “Kiss me, I’m Irish” would hide the fact that you spent a ridiculous amount of money on some new tech he was eyeing.

You heard the apartment door open and close.

Knowing it was Miguel, you groan out dramatically.

He opens the bedroom door and peaks inside, “Baby?”

You just groan out again, “Everything hurts, Miggy.”

He comes up to bed and sits on the edge, “I know, amor. I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your head. “Want me to plug up the heat pack?”

“Yeah,” you say, leaning into his hands. When he gets up to grab the pack, you whine at his absence.

“I know, I know. I’m coming back,” he says, voice soothing.

Instead of turning the pack on, he removes your covers and sits back down on the edge. You shiver a little bit and he’s quick to cover your body with his, rubbing the top of your head as he kisses your temple.

“Are you feeling too bad to eat something for me?” Miguel asks, the timber of his voice settling you.

You shake your head and lean in closer to him.

“I think I want some food,” you reply, squeezing his body. “I haven’t eaten anything yet.”

Miguel tuts as he sits up and pulls you up with him, “That’s no good, baby. You have to eat so you can feel better. Your body needs it.”

You groan again and put your face in his neck, not wanting to move.

“Come on,” Miguel says, rubbing you from your back to your leg. “I got you some soup and a grilled cheese.”

“Did you get the stuff for the hot chocolate bar? For the party?” you whisper.

“Mm hm. Jumbo marshmallows included.”

You nuzzle his neck before you look at him, “Carry me to the kitchen?”

He makes a swift move to wrap your legs around his body and hike you up.

He gets up and holds you close, heading to the kitchen, “Let’s get some food in you, yeah?”

SPRING 🍇

The short spring break trip that Miguel surprised you with has been lovely. Miguel woke you with kisses down your body, taking you to the hilt with his mouth alone. You had to muffle your cries as to not disturb the neighbors in the inn. As his tongue danced inside of you, you gripped his hair with one hand and his head with your thighs. Miguel wouldn’t want it any other way.

After his first course, Miguel treated you to breakfast on the balcony. You two enjoyed looking over the horizon as you ate yogurt parfaits and fluffy omelets.

Later on, the two of you enjoyed a few tours of the vineyard and the city. The sights were beyond compare and the atmosphere was serene.

“Thank you so much for this Miguel,” you say, interrupting the silence.

“Anything for my lady,” he says back. “You’re doing great work this semester so you need the break.” Miguel stopped and turned to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You leaned up and kissed him, hands warm on the sides of his face.

You both started to makeout for so long that Miguel forgot about the massage he had planned for you before tonight’s farm-to-table dinner.

Needless to say, he laid you out on your bed and oiled your body down. Your head was in your arms as rubbed his hands up and down your back. His hands were heaven and you felt like puddy by the time he flipped you over.

After he massaged your inner thighs he pounded you into the mattress. Something you’re sure the hired masseuse would never be able to do.

Miguel joked and called it the Miguel Magic Massage when you asked if he offered this special regularly. The price? Being his cariño, his amor, his sweetheart.

By the time dinner started, you were glowing. You felt adored and the courses were amazing.

Miguel made sure everyone knew you were his. His hand never left your thigh the entire meal, staring down the older men sitting at the end table who were looking a little too long at the dip of your dress.

You were oblivious, feeding Miguel bites occasionally and humming at how fresh and delicious everything was.

After the last course was over, the men came to you all’s side of the table quickly. All of them started to make conversation with you, plugging in their businesses, and stuffing their business cards in your hands.

It was as if Miguel was invisible. He scowls deeper when they let out hearty laughs at something you said.

“Are you fellas here with your wives?” Miguel asked loudly, completely irritated. “My wife and I have really enjoyed our time here. It’s a beautiful place for couples.”

Some of the men went red in the face flustered at Miguel catching their scheme. Others just scowled, pissed off at being interrupted.

None of them could answer his question.

You looked at Miguel, eyes heavy and relaxed.

“You gentlemen have a great night,” you said, putting your hand in Miguel’s as he guided you to the exit.

“Your wife, huh?” you asked, core on fire. It was hot watching Miguel get so worked up over you.

“Baby, they were looking at you like you were some fresh meat. Like I wasn’t even sitting there,” he grumbled.

“One of them already offered to bring me on a cruise. He’s staying right next to us,” you say, standing outside your room as Miguel swipes his card at the door. You walked your fingers up his chest, heated over the grit you could see from his profile.

He was oh so upset.

“He’s next to us? Right here?” Miguel asked, voice low.

You nodded as you bit your lip, arm around his neck.

Miguel picked you up and dragged you to the bed. You giggled a little to yourself as he plopped you down. Mission accomplished. Silently, you thank those older men. If it weren’t for their overconfidence, Miguel wouldn’t have been tearing at your clothes like he us right now.

Miguel kept you up almost that whole night, making sure that the neighbors heard your cries. Those old geezers were sure to know his name by the next morning. Buying you a ring wasn’t enough. He needed a bat.

It was all worth it to see the tired and flushed looks of their faces when you all checked out the next day.

SUMMER 🍯

“What the fuck,” you mumble, looking down at the pair of jeans you were trying to put on.

It was early morning. You had a family reunion that you and Miguel would take a bit of a drive to get to.

You made sure that everything was packed the following night. Some clothes to stay for a few days, a few snacks for the road, a book for you to catch up on, and even a crossword puzzle book for Miguel.

You planned ahead. You were diligent. So why is it that when everything else is going right, your pants decide not to button up?

You pulled at the flaps once more, trying your hardest to connect the button with the hole. It fails as they slip from your grasp. You try again, sucking in your stomach as much as you could. You get the button to snap in this time, but it’s digging unbearably into your skin. The zipper fights against you as you try to pull it up.

You huff out in frustration and the pants snap open again.

Defeated, you let out a watery sigh and look in the mirror.

Your stomach was bigger than you last remembered, fupa a little more prominent. Your thighs were also a little thicker, the jeans hugging them a little tight. Your breasts looked a little big in your shirt. The family name stretches a bit more across your bust than the original design intended. Even your face was a little chubbier than normal. When was the last time your jaw was like this? High school?

When did you get like this?

You felt your throat start to burn, a sob building in your system. You’ve always been fine with your body, loving the dips and curves. Adoring your flaws and finding beauty in what society decides is not worthy.

You knew this. You knew that you were beautiful. Why was it so hard to get that thought into your conscience?

You felt the tears roll down as you peeled the jeans off of your legs. They were especially tight at your hips and you wondered how you even forced them past in the first place.

You didn’t know what to do. It was so hot outside, so you needed something comfortable, but those jeans…you had your mind set to wear those jeans.

You rummage through your closet in frustration, pushing and pulling the clothes across the rack.

By the time Miguel found you, you were squatting in the closet, hot tears covering your face.

“Babe, it’s been almost 30 minutes and we need to head out before the work traffic starts-”

Miguel stopped in the doorway as he noticed the state of the closet, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? ¿Que pasó, cariño?”

You wipe furiously at your face, sniffling loud as you hear Miguel push clothes to the side to get to you.

“My pants don’t fit. I don’t think anything else will fit either,” you say, stuttering out your words as Miguel gets to your side.

You let him pull you up into a standing position. You felt defeated.

Miguel looked at you and wiped away the tears that you missed. You feel horrible as your face scrunches up again, tears forming in your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Miguel says, hugging you close. “Listen to me. I know that this feels like a lot, but this is normal. Your body will always change with you. You’re still the same beautiful, gorgeous woman I met years ago and that’s not changing because you got some extra hips, baby.”

“But Miguel,” you say, voice so sad. “I feel like I just got those pants. And. Nothing else in here goes with this shirt. I’m scared that nothing else will fit-”

“And if that’s the case, I’ll buy you new clothes,” Miguel says, pressing kisses over your face. “If these clothes mean that much to you, I’ll take you to the gym. Let me work out with you, but until then, I’m loving your body as is.”

You stare at Miguel, heart beating at his revelation. He stared right back at you, daring you to question or challenge his words.

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like this. If anyone has ever let you feel insecure about your body, they’re an ass, let me deal with them. If I ever do anything to make you feel insecure, tell me. Yell at me. Question me, because as far as I’m concerned, that’s not me.”

He hiked you up on the closet island in the middle of the room. You shiver a bit as your naked legs hit the wood.

He leans closer, placing his hands on the side of you, “Now, let’s think. Don’t you have a pair of cargo shorts that match the ones I’m wearing right now?��

You whisper out a yes.

“Would you be ok with wearing those? I’m sure they fit perfectly.”

You say yes again, head leaning onto his. You could accessorize it perfectly. It would make a great couple’s look.

Miguel knew this much, he just had to get you to see it.

“I love you, ok?” he says, voice clear.

“I love you, too. Thank you,” you say.

“Anything for my girl,” Miguel says. “My beautiful girl. She’s just for me. I can’t believe it.”

Your heart beats faster as he starts to kiss down your body.

“Her face is so lovely.” A kiss to your cheek and your lips.

“She’s always working so hard.” A kiss to your neck and your collarbone. He pulls your shirt over your head.

“She makes me so happy.” A suck to your breasts as he unclasps your bra.

“Her body is beyond comparison.” A trail of kisses down your stomach, your belly twitching as his breath twinkles on along your skin. “Soft. Amazing. Irresistible.”

“Her thighs are my earmuffs.” A caress to your inner thighs. Your legs snap a bit, ticklish at his ministrations.

“Miguel?” you whimper out.

“I have to relax you before this ride. Can’t have you upset,” he says, kissing his way up your thighs to your panties. “May I?”

You nod your head, fingers grasping at nothing but then a flat surface.

Miguel was swift. He pulled your underwear down and kissed at your clit. You could only hold tight as he pulled your body forward and dove in.

It wasn’t long before you were shaking like a leaf. Miguel sucked at you for minutes, pulling a long orgasm out of your system.

He kneaded your thighs as you trembled around his tongue, humming as your legs squeezed tighter. That was the queue for him to go further, so he added his fingers to the mix, moving his mouth up so that his fingers could pump in and out of you.

It took all of your strength not to let your body drop off the other side of the island.

“Miggy, please,” you wailed. You wanted more.

Miguel looked up at you whining above him. You pull your legs up, holding your hands under your thighs, practically begging for him.

Miguel kissed up your body again. He was swift with removing his clothes. You still had to have these clothes fresh for later and Miguel was about to wear you out.

He moved to push himself inside of you, grunting as you gripped him.

He replaced your hands with his and pulled your legs up by his head. You balanced yourself on the island as he slowly started to thrust.

“So good. Just for me,” Miguel said, watching as your body moved with his movement. “Perfect. And all mine.”

You remained quiet, whimpering softly as he dragged against you.

“You heard me, hermosa?” Miguel said. “You’re beautiful. C’mon. Say it for me.”

“I’m,” you stopped, mind foggy. You didn’t know how you were supposed to respond when he was going so deep.

“Say it.”

You cried out as he snapped harder, “I’m beautiful.”

“That’s right baby,” Miguel praises you, bending further to give you a kiss. “So amazing.”

He praised you until you finished, squeezing at any of you that he got his hands. By the time he was done, your arms felt like jelly from holding you up.

He carried you to the bathroom for a quick shower, never stopping his reassurances of you.

You guys made it in the car an hour and a half off schedule, but it was worth it for the uplifted way you carried yourself throughout the day.

It was worth it to see you happy and healthy.

By the time you made it to the reunion, it was like you were born anew. You greeted your family with smiles and laughter. Miguel couldn’t help but to cheese watching you do your thing.

He felt his heart soar as you caught up with family. Your smile was the biggest as you were out on the floor line dancing your heart out. He was right up behind you when Outstanding came on. The song was really a declaration of how he felt about you.

You giggled as he crooned in your ear.

“You light my fire,” he sang, swinging your hips in time with his.

“I feel alive with you, baby,” he spins you around to him, a smile on his face.

“You blow my mind,” he pulled you out and back in.

“I’m satisfied,” you squeal as he spins you in the air and puts you back down to keep dancing.

Outstanding. You really knock him out.

Another season where Miguel adored you more.

Another season where Miguel wanted you to be forever his.

Another season where he made sure he fed you well.

Another season of you making his heart pound.

Another season of your love reaching to the fullest.

Miguel was excited for the next season with you.

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading! 💗

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated. Let me know how you feel! 🥺🧁

Until next time,

-Lauro 💗

[harrysmimi]

Cuddly Mood

Synopsis: One where Harry comes home from work to his girl being clingy. He ain't complaining.

More of my work

Harry had told his girl to not wait for him for dinner as he would be late, and that she should to go to bed. Basically not wait up for him as he got work.

He was working late at night on some new music. Not essentially planning to write a whole new album just yet, he just wanted to het these new out and into production and see how things go from there for him and his new future projects.

YN understood where he came from. She's an artist too after all. She sometimes want to spend all day and night, in her studio painting and work on this one piece of art which would not budge off her head until it was out. She's had those days and Harry's always been respectful and supportive of her.

But she wanted to be selfish today and hold him back and cuddle him all day. Well, she could barely bring herself to do that because he was so excited about this new song he had in his mind. Or melody? Or a rhythm? Or a beat? She doesn't quite know how music works.

This afternoon Harry got ready to leave for studio after he'd returned from gym, all showered up and dressed up. He wore a pair black washed jeans a simple white tshirt, which she likes to steal from him some times. He took a hoodie with him incase he's cold, which he always is at the studio.

He's been going to gym religiously now, so he's been more muscley and big, he's still his shy self which makes him like her giant human cuddle bear. Especially with his instincts of him wanting to hold her and make her feel safe. Oh boy, did that make her all mushy!

She just wanted cling on him all day and take a big fat nap. But she had to let him go for few hours.

But she still deserves his undivided attention, especially when he's back from a long tour and will be going back very soon.

She's a night owl, Harry knows it. So when he came back home to her place, he found her dusting her furniture around. She's like her cat, who likes to zoom around at three in the morning.

And it was three in the morning when he came back!

"Hi, angel!" He chirps as he locked the door behind him. "What are you doing up so late baby?" Dropping his stuff on the sofa he walked upto her, snaking his arms around her tummy he pulled her close to him, placing a chaste of kisses on her neck and back of her head. She melted in his embrace.

Exactly what she craved all day!

"I'm not sleepy." She mumbled.

"You need to fix that sleep schedule of yours, angel, it's not healthy." He expressed his concerns, "no coffee for you after three in the afternoon!"

"Hey!" She whined.

"Yes!" He argued back. "You wanna go to bed now?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

Harry was changing out of his clothes. He took off his hoodie and shirt, and got rid of his pants.

On rare nights his boxers and basketball shorts stayed on and today was one of them. His girl doesn't mind, there is nothing she haven't seen. He doesn't feel insecure around her anymore and does she, which is amazing!

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I have your hoodie?" She asked.

"Yeah, which one do you want baby?" He asked, changing into a different pair of boxers.

"The one you wore today?"

"Aren't you going to be hot, angel?" He enquired, because it was getting warmer and he doesn't want her to layer up.

"No, I'll just wear that and nothing underneath." She explained.

"You sure about that?" He asked, just to be sure.

"Mhmm."

"Alright strip down!" Harry smirked cheekily. He was all done dressing half decent, he took two strads towards where she was stood in the bathroom, applying her moisturiser.

Her sleep shirt caught onto her earrings as she was taking it off. "Ouch!"

"Be careful there!" He stepped in and carefully untangled the shirt from her earring. "You okay?"

"Yeah!" She nodded. Harry smiled and carefully pulled the neckhole of his hoodie (which is now both of theirs to share!) over her head, before his hands travelled behind her back to unhook her bra. He slipped his off but not before taking the opportunity to have a quick feel of her breasts, run his hands over her delicious tummy rolls towards her hips. "Stop it tickles!"

"Yeah?" He teased her, tickling her more under her breasts.

"Stop!" She laughed holding onto his wrists tightly. He stopped and helped her put her arms through the sleeves.

"My favourite!" He commented on her wearing her "cute set" of underwear, which were a pair of pastel green granny panties with french fries on them.

They're adorable okay!

"Stop tickling me, I've missed you enough all day!" She pouted feeling his hands wander down to her bum, trying his best to tickle her.

He gasped, "I need to make up for it, don't I?" With that he threw her over his shoulder as he brought her back out to their room and carefully placed her on their shared bed. "Why didn't you call me then if you missed me so much?"

"I did not felt like wanting to disturb you while you worked." She explained as he peppered her face with sloppy and wet kisses.

"You can never disturb me!" He exclaimed quietly, "could have worked on that song later. Next time just tell me, okay? I'd prefer to spend time with you!"

"Mhmm! I will." She agreed, "now kiss me?"

"Gladly!" With that he placed his mouth on hers, giving her a tender kiss. "I've missed you too today! Wrote a song about you and us."

"You did?" She was so surprised even though he tells her when a song is inspired by her. It still manages to surprise her, thinking she can be a muse to someone's art when it's always been the other way around for her. He always finds new things about to sing in his songs.

Where as he's always been muse of her art!

"Yeah, wrote about how much I love you, and how I wanna be with you for as long as you want me!"

"I want you forever!"

"Forever, yeah?" He rested his forehead on hers.

The next few minutes he spent talking about the song and loving on her until she fell asleep, snuggled close to his bare chest.

He'd never enjoyed being a big spoon in his life!

......................................................................

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[ceasarslegion]

Can you fucking believe that trump was shot bro?

This election year is gonna be crazy

Honestly I don't like how American leftists are treating it like a big joke because no matter how this played out it's only going to serve to martyr trump in one way or another. Like put all the arguments about morality aside for a second and just be pragmatic here:

This is one big fat juicey justification of the maga cult's persecution complex. They have an attempted assassination against their big kahuna that they all rally around. And you're (royal "you") treating it like a meme. Hearing about it honestly sent a chill down my whole body because this is the shit I studied in uni for my extremism program.

The GOP just got handed a fresh hot steaming silver platter to whip their followers into a blood frenzy over while the progressives are acting like it's a joke and saying the guy shouldn't have missed (when actually killing him would have nearly guaranteed a jan 6 2.0 on a WAYYY larger and scarier and organized scale imo. If not guaranteed something way worse than project 2025).

The shooter just handed the GOP their victory if the progressives don't get their fucking shit together and stop infighting over the moral qualms of filling in a bubble on a piece of paper. And they're turning it into a meme.

No wonder the rest of the world thinks you guys are a laughing stock

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Follow up question on your previous Arcane answer: given that you said that you know how the corpo heads over at Riot think given your years of studying their behavior so to speak, how do you think they will handle the Arcane brand post-series?

It really depends on which people get to be in charge. It's a 50/50 with Riot, honestly - sometimes they are smart enough to take their hands off and let the creative people who made something successful continue to make a success of it (usually because the creative people fought a war with them to get their hands off it), but the other half of the time promising projects disintegrate into a million scorned pieces because one important stakeholder left the project and there was no structure in place to replace them.

It's the same as with most art produced by corporations. So long as the creatives remain mostly in control of the project, and corporate busies itself promoting and monetizing it externally (Fortnite skins, merch, etc), things will probably be at least okay. It's the moment that some crypto-brained dipshit with a bachelor's in digital marketing and a drinking buddy in the high C-suite weasels his way into creative control that everything goes to shit. And Arcane's success, like I said, paints a big fat juicy target on its back for exactly that kind of parasite. Linke and Yee have thus far managed to fight them off, at least enough that season 1 could be as good as it was, but nothing gold can last.

If we're lucky, Arcane and its successor projects have several seasons of gold left to give us before it gets eaten. If we're not, Arcane season 3 will go the way of Rise of Skywalker.

[nwarrior777]

when I look in the mirror I see your art. Idk how you were able to put a piece of a fat persons soul in your art, but you did. Iv never been able to see someones art in the mirror like I have with yours. Where fat people are drawn with the amount of love that you put in.

not me crying about ask on tumblr- thank you qwq i am always so happy to receive feedback like that! then people see themselves in my art. or like here, my art in themselves?? that's smth new! I choose my sphere of art to be representation, and goal to bring my part for shifting balance of media image of people, to realistic side, which celebrates the beauty of differences of our appearances I have joke about it like "Being representative artist has pros and cons. Pros: you will never have artblock. Cons: you will never have artblock". Because there is sooooo soooo SOOOO much work here needs to be done. And i am sometimes worry that i will never be able to draw all i want, ideas i have in 26 are already would take all together more than 100 years. But then i see reactions like this, i think "oh! i've already done something! a lot actually!" and it calms me a bit. It's a honor to know that thing you do made positive impact, that you did your little part of making word a better place, more kind one.

And i guess the secret of Love in my art is my attitude? I think Love is most important thing in life, i don't mean only romance but like, in general, Love for everything and in every form. Love for your partners, Love for friends, Love for thing you do, Love in cooking, for park near you home, for a frog plushi, for Life. My statement is Life itself is driven by Love, and, appearance of people is like flower field to me: everyone is Beautiful in their Uniqueness. I came long path and there is no ugliness as a concept in my mind at all now, and it gives me so much of inner freedom. And if about fat people - honestly how NOT to see beauty in fatness??? And it's so delightful to draw... Like, it is Love in these drawings because it is literally that i feel and projecting into screen. And like. I follow one women on insta, her posts are absolutely Ethereal. Imagine that impressionists pastel drawings with cute cottage core dresses but it's videos with very big black women in this dresses running on grass, on that almost painting landscapes, like. Then i saw this i felt like my eyes were blessed, like, she is literal Goddes. And then i knew that she have some haters comments... like. It's just. I don't know how there are two so polar reactions on that. But i prefer my side. Because there is no better feeling than Love

[fullofgutsndopamine]

the brightest blue in the dark

or: hasan passed, but he tries to let you know he’s there.

tw/death (not graphic, specifics surrounding not given), grieving, cursing, angst, mention of fighting/disagreements (normal relationship type)

or: rockstar!au (mentioned)

more hasan here

loosely based off this song. seriously, listen to it, it’ll change your life. i hope i did the song even a quarter of justice.

the house is so quiet lately it drives you nuts.

and hasan would hate it, which only made it hurt more.

he needed sound, always, weather it was man made that he did: tapping his fingertips against the wooden table, humming a song he heard on the radio once, knows maybe a single word from it: anything to make a constant noise, let his presence be known. and before, while you were in a meeting, or trying to focus on a presentation, you found it annoying-the source of fights between you two, the unnecessary, never ending noise-and now you’d do anything to hear him noise.

he wanders around lonely for awhile, before you pick it up, before you let your mind really think this is a possibility-wandering room to room while you walked around, sometimes in a daze, sometimes crying-those days you were crying he’d go into your room (it never gets easier calling it that; not ours, not for two people, a singular person) and walk around slowly, trying to fix the things that use to drive you crazy when he was still there-your car keys that you never remembered to hang up on the hook he installed, the books on the nightstand you never read and never put back on the shelf.

some days you were so close to being aware of his prescene he wanted to scream-when you find the keys on the hook and your fingers stay on them a second longer-you know you didn’t hang them up, you never do, your eyes darting around as you think, before you shake your head and throw them back onto your bed before leaving.

some nights you stayed up. the nights when you were angry he was taken from you so soon, when rage burned in your gut like a hot fire, pacing around your room, pulling at your hair like you couldn’t believe it, like someone might jump out and admit it was a cruel joke-those nights were always the hardest for him to see, he wished they didn’t happen so much.

the day you put his guitar in the back of your closet, he tries to not be angry about it. really, he can’t expect you to keep it. you gave it to him for your second anniversary, his first headline tour, and he called it “his baby” so affectionately, nights when you couldn’t sleep sitting cross legged next to you and gently strumming it, willing sleep to find you. you could play bits and pieces he taught you-but it was unfair to expect you to keep it, to have it on display like that, a cruel reminder that there was no one to sing you to sleep anymore

(and those nights. oh those nights when you woke up thrashing, a lake of sweat over your body and your father rushing in, trying to hold you down, to comfort you: hasan wouldn’t let himself thing about it, it hurt too much)

hasan heard your father crying first, one night. which-if he’s honest-shocked him, made him stop in his step- he wasn’t close to your father, a drinking buddy on holidays when you helped your mom cook in the kitchen, talking fishing and these big projects he had planned-hasan knew him but felt more like he knew of him. but you’re passed out, finally, a three day bender of not sleeping no matter what he did (leaving his flannel that you swore you tucked away in the back of the closet on your bed, what you always wore to sleep, no matter the weather). he isn’t tired anymore, but he feels something that reminds him of the ache of tiredness he use to feel as he passes your fathers room-

your father moved in with you not long after. both of you insisted it was temporary-he was in between jobs and needed a place to lay his head and you needed some noise so you figured you’d both win-

he finds him on his bed, rubbing his forehead, fat tears run down his cheeks and he’s not saying anything, not holding anything, so hasan doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows from the way your father begged you to sleep-just to lay down for two seconds-that it had to be about him.

when you let your mind slip away at night, it's bright. he's like an omnipresent blue light behind your eyes, it glows. it brings comfort. you were afraid of it at first; if you touched it, would it disappear? dart away from your fingers? never come back-the idea of losing this light was almost too much for you; didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it

one night, as you laid in bed in his old band shirt, ripped in the armpit and stained to hell, his favorite shorts you wear on, exhaustion evident on your face-you allowed yourself to reach out, slowly in your mind, run your finger along the blurred line of light-and immediately felt peace, your chest felt hot, but not of anger, of comfort, washing over you like someone pulled a blanket over your chest, like sleep was finally here-

hasan laid next to you in bed, a smile on his face as he played with the ends of your hair, (even if you couldn’t feel it) he ignored how his hands disappeared into the void when he tried to touch it, told himself it was doing something: and he rolls his eyes.

you’d say he was the stubborn one in the relationship but he always disagreed, insisted you were the stubborn one, and when you finally let yourself down, let your mind slip away, explore what he’s been trying to show you desperately, tugging on your shirt and trying to lead you to all this time.

hasan might not be here with you anymore-isn’t something tangible you can reach out and touch, cling to his back as you sleep: but as you lay down and feel this warm light on you, surrounding you, you know he’s here, and you’re safe.

[starlit-mansion]

I've decided that i want to disrupt the strightsized/midsized thriftblogger industrial complex for my fellow actually fat people. I havent been as small as a size 18 since senior year of highschool and my waistline is sitting comfortably at around 50 inches these days and i thrift but it's frequently humiliating. Here are my tips.

one: there isn't nothing. It might be slim pickings. It might be a single rack in a 2 story shop. It might be only 2 pairs of pants in the whole place. But you've been on the street and in the grocery store. You know there are other people your size in the world and their stuff ends up a thrift store too.

two: avoid trendy areas like the plague. do you live in a smaller town? do you have reason to go to one? go to a thrift store there. if you know there are more people your size in an area, then that's a good sign for your chances. you aren't looking for designer pieces at a steal; you are looking for some gently used lane bryant and this is where it lives.

three: it isnt all or nothing. you can get some things thrifted and some things you're probably going to have to buy at a plus sized store. Getting a few nice blouses for cheap can free up your budget for a pair of new pants from a plus sized retailer. For instance, I really cant thrift a pair of shoes for shit because i have extra wide feet and cankles for days, but my partner who is a similar weight has regular sized feet and could thrift shoes easily, and that's a lot of money that could be saved there.

four: if it only almost fits, put it back. if you're anything like me, the fact that you can button or zip it is going to feel like a miracle, but if it hurts or digs in any way, it'll sit in your closet for weeks while the things that don't hurt get worn many times in a row. we don't always have the luxury of everything in our wardrobes sparking joy but it can at least not spark pain.

five: be honest. if you aren't going to fix it or take it out, don't waste your money on a project piece that's going to sit around for the next 2 years and go back to the thrift store from whence it came.

five point five: be a little adventurous though. especially with shirts and dresses. maybe you've never tried that color before but it looks good in the store. this is a low stakes way to expand your style. you can always get rid of it if you decide against it, either within a return window, or donating it back. If your thrift store gives coupons for donating, taking a small grocery bag with a few pieces will get you the same discount as a car full of old furniture, so donate small amounts and often.

six: if you're thrifting online, thrift the brand you trust. like i hinted above, i trust lane bryant. i also trust torrid because i'm tall and torrid is for me and the transfems. search on shopgoodwill or depop or whatever by the brand you know the sizing of. hell, you can also seach the box store brand like time and tru or ava viv on there if you miss that one piece from a year or two ago that was cute and fit you perfectly. Speaking of...

seven: goodwill gets target overstock. you can find new overstock stuff from last season on the racks. i've seen many a thing go from clearance at my local target to on the shelves at the goodwill. keep it in mind if you're broke but used clothes yuck you out. you can find new with tag stuff in plus sizes, either from stores directly or people who just aren't fussed about money.

eight: you have to go a lot to find stuff. that's how the bloggers do it; they made it their side hustle in some way. i don't suggest doing it if you have no interest in it, but if you can put aside a half hour once a week or twice a month to check while you're running your errands, you can start finding stuff. Keep your trips and your budget small, and start looking for stuff for the next season months ahead of time to keep the pressure down.

nine: save a treat. either literally go for a treat afterward for being a big brave bestie and confronting the fact that you have a corporeal form and it needs clothes, or look through the fun thing that relaxes you. Looking for silly mugs? trying to find fine leather purses? want to look at ugly figurines and take pictures of them to text your friend and say "it's you'? Do that. Every time you go to the thrift store, add in the fun thing. If looking for work clothes can't motivate you, maybe looking through the children's paperbacks to try to rebuild your collection of animorphs books that you got rid of in 2005 will.

lastly: cut out the middle man. if you have a friend or relative of similar size to you: TRADE the pieces you're pruning from your wardrobe with each other before you donate them. It will give you the spark of newness that you both are looking for. Also you can reference the "those shoes... look familiar..." vine when you see them wearing something you gave them.

tl;dr: thrift often and in small doses, make it fun for yourself if you can, and also i just heard a tip where if you want to check a waistband size without trying it on, have the waistband fully closed and hold it to your hip. if the ends of the waistband reach your spine and bellybutton, it'll probably fit. So that's pretty handy.

[markh0ffmanz]

Hoffheight headcanons?

hoffheight my beloved.... i will preface this by saying that i don't think hoffman is capable of something even remotely resembling a healthy relationship, so that definitely applies to any relationship that he'd have with adam.

not sure if my thoughts are what one would count as headcanons because i don't typically have like. singular, overarching thoughts on them that would be consistent between aus but i will absolutely ramble about them for a bit lmao.

my personal fave flavor of hoffheight is ft. apprentice adam. really really like the idea of adam being recruited against his will and sort of scrambling for any semblance of stability in his new very unstable life. amanda is standoffish and lawrence is recovering from their time in the bathroom trap + dealing with a surely impending divorce, and he most definitely avoids john. and then there's hoffman, who's scary and intimidating and always looks at adam like he's picking him apart piece by piece with just his eyes. which, isn't too far from the truth. hoffman probably wouldn't like him at first, in the conventional way, but he'd definitely be interested in him. wants to sink his teeth in him like a dog to a rabbit. wants to squeeze him until he pops. for him, it's the closest thing that comes to a crush. wherever adam is, hoffman is not too far behind. always there, always watching him, always fucking with him. maybe hoffman's projecting some latent feelings from strahm onto him, trying to push adam into biting back.

it ends up in them fucking, because adam is lonely and hoffman is attractive in his eyes, and because hoffman is lonely too even if he doesn't realize or want to admit it. they fuck, and i think hoffman becomes super possessive over him after that. doesn't really like amanda hanging around him and sure as shit doesn't want lawrence around him either. and adam sort of revels in it, because after being left in the bathroom and coming so close to dying, it feels so good to have someone always touching him, always there. someone who always wants him because he's never felt very wanted before, even if that someone wants him enough to eat him up.

that being said, i think adam could maybe round hoffman off a little bit. round out his sharpest edges just the tiniest bit. i can see them having some soft moments in between everything else. hoffman laying ontop of adam after they've had sex, a soothing, heavy weight, letting himself be vulnerable for just a moment with his face buried in the crook of adam's neck, adam's fingers carding through his hair and scratching at his nape. his humor would be good for hoffman too, even if it's annoying more times than it's funny. angelina would have liked adam, he finds himself thinking, and maybe it makes him more fond of adam in between his desire to keep him to himself.

the both of them absolutely love their size difference. adam loves how big hoffman is, how strong he is. how he can pick adam up with ease and toss him around, how he can cover every inch of adam's body when he lays on him, nice and heavy, how he could probably break adam in half if he wanted to. loves the fat on his belly and sides too tbh. and i think adam probably isn't hoffman's usual type, strahm and rigg being far more what he's usually interested in, men that can handle his rough handling with ease and then give it back in stride. men he can really sink his teeth into. but despite that, i think he'd like just how small adam is compared to him, likes how adam never complains when he's too rough or even asks for more, even if sometimes he thinks he might break adam's bones with how rough he's being

[snailsdraw]

BIG DISCLAIMER: this is based on these very cool posts by @gordonfreemansphysicsdegree (link 1 here) (OP's OG gems designs link here).

I don't own this AU, I just drew stuff because mind esplosion

[Start ID: 9 pages of user gordonfreemansphysicsdegree's HLVRAI-SU AU doodles drawn by user snailsdraw featuring the Science Team as gems.

Yellow Olivine Darnold in two outfits: the homeworld outfit and the on-earth oufit. The homeworld version resembles a warmer, high-collar version of Peridot's outfit with limb enhancers and a green visor, and features Darnold with a yellow coloured flat top afro and dark orange skin. His gem, which is green and triangular, resides on his forehead. The on-earth version features her wearing a duku headwrap with a star-shaped bow in the front, a yellow visor, yellow gloves and boots, a labcoat with a three-pointed collar like the top half of a star, and a one-piece swimsuit-like apparel separated into two shades of green by an inverted "V".

3 early Gem-Darnold sketches: Darnold in a mish-mash outfit consisting of a scarf, labcoat, a visor, arcade-patterned shirt, polkadot skirt, striped socks, rocket boots, and the headwrap. He is holding a clipboard and pen, and seems to be observing something. Beside that is a sketch of Darnold in homeworld attire, projecting a holographic screen with her floating, limb enhancer fingers. And lastly, Darnold in a labcoat again, looking sheepish.

Banded Carnelian Gordon and human Joshua: Gordon is a fat, bearded, one-armed gem with a ponytail, wearing a rounded visor over his eyes, a hoodie with stars on the ends of the drawstrings, sweatpants, and sneakers. His gem, located on his upper chest, is chipped. Joshua is a wide-eyed kid with floofy, spikey hair in a cowboy outfit with a star-shaped sheriff's badge and toy horse. There's a sketch of Joshua attempting to eat a worm, and another of Gordon looking very tired.

Blue Dumortierite Benrey: He resembles a quartz in uniform and body type, except shorter and wearing a hood. His left hand is hidden behind his back, but a callout drawing shows that there is a raindrop-shaped gem inserted sideways into the back of his hand.

Lapis Benrey: He is a fat gem with an undercut and bangs, and is wearing an outfit that resembles Lapis's, except with tights instead of a skirt. He is sitting cross-legged with his watery wings out, and is throwing a peace-sign, his gem now visible on his left hand and in it's original, flat position. Next to this is Benrey in his earth-outfit, consisting of a cap with a star decal on the side and ear flaps and a ponytail sticking out the back, a crop-top hoodie with a star-shaped open patch on the back, a translucent skirt, and open-toe tights. He's making a kissy face, and is posed with one foot kicked up behind him and a hand on his hip, the other hand flipping his cap ear flap like you would long hair.

Yellow Agate Tommy: He is a tall, lanky gem with hair styled resembling a mound atop his head with rings resembling the agate mineral, and is dressed like Holly Blue Agate with a high-collar, shawl, and high boots. He is standing attentively with his hands in the diamond pose. Beside that is a sketch of Tommy in an oversized Beach City Funland shirt and a propeller hat he'd won at the Funland. He touches the cap reverantly like he's just had a revelation from having fun for once in millenia and this is a turning point for him. Next to that is Tommy in his earth-outfit, consisting of a short puffy-sleeved top with 2 pompoms down the front, a bowtie, a cummerbund, and tights with shoes tipped with pompoms. Sunkist, a corrupted Pearl who resembles a large, masked bird, is lolling her tongue happily while she recieves some scritches from a smiling Tommy.

Corrupted Cream Pearl Sunkist: Originally, she is a Pearl with shoulder-length hair and a curl on her forehead and attire that resembles Pink Pearl's except with a translucent curtain around her shoulders instead. She stands with a foot pointed out in front of her like a ballerina, and her fingers interlocked before her chest. Next to it is a drawing of her corrupted, bird creature form. Additionally, there is a sketch of her after she is newly healed, touching her face in wonderment and tearing up. She now mostly looks like a Pearl, except with longer hair resembling wings, no nose, and an inverted "V" line across the middle of her face.

Green Quartz Dr Coomer: He is an old gem in Quartz uniform with a roundish moustache, a balding head and under-eye wrinkles. His weapon are two huge gauntlets, like Garnet's. A round gem resides on top of his forehead. On Earth, he wears a singlet with ripped edges around the armpits resembling a star-shape, and suspenders with star-shaped buckles. He flexes, showing off his bulging arm muscles.

Fusion-Zircon Bubby: He looks like an average Zircon, just slightly taller and much older, and with two monocles instead of one. His hair droops back in a triangle, and his boxy jacket has unbalanced shoulderpads with two jutting out from one shoulder and only one from the other, and a mis-matched number of line decal on his sleeves and pant legs. He also has heeled boots and a three-pointed hankerchief under his gem - a fusion of several shards of Zircon. He's posed with his head tilted up and hands on his hips. On Earth, he has a balding head with hair also angled in a triangle behind his head. He wears a tracksuit with a big star pattern front and centre. His sleeves and boots are mis-matched in lengths. /End ID.]

I WILL EXPLAIN I only changed Darnold's gem cut because I learned that Olivine is Peridot in mineral form and went oh👀?

Very very interesting HLVRAI 2 AU, awesome times.

[cellu-lightreading]

Uncle Mac's Football Fans

You can find more episodes of Uncle Mac's here or start with the brand new one below!

Looking at the group of guys gathered in the restaurant it was hard for Jason to not feel proud. His little side project may not have been the kind of work that a foundation would pay for, but it was still a good service. Whenever he looked down at his soft middle, he was sure that he was doing the right thing. Retirement was hitting him hard. After a few years playing professional football, it was time for him to take off the helmet for good. But the challenge for every retired player is not blowing up like a blimp now that you’re not exercising like a maniac. The challenge is even harder for guys like Jason who are big and were always encouraged to eat and stay big. He already had a nice sized gut sitting in his lap and it was only going to grow. He knew that one day he was going to be just like them: massively pudgy beyond most people’s understanding. Not a single one of these men were under 350 pounds, and Jason had crossed over into 300 himself just a couple months. Some day soon he was going to be the one eating faster than he can size up at the men's department.

Maybe that’s why when he heard Scott’s story he was so immediately drawn to help out. Scott had been a fan of the local team for decades, even before he moved into town. Someone was kind enough to gift Scott with season tickets so he could watch them play in person for the first time. When he got to the stadium, he found out that the seats were all too small for him to squeeze into. Scott had to forfeit his tickets and miss the game because the tiny plastic chairs wouldn’t accommodate for his pillowy love handles enough for his cellulite-ridden ass to sit down. Scott obviously couldn’t stand and watch the whole game. One of the local stations decided to interview him and he looked like a stereotype. There were ketchup and mustard stains from his hot dogs. He was drenched in sweat; he wasn’t used to doing all this walking around anymore, especially in the late summer sun. When Jason laid eyes on Scott, he knew he needed to do something. 

Jason’s first idea was to head to the front office and demand change. They quickly explained to him that they would not install wider seats and reduce the capacity and thereby sell less tickets. They dismissed him just after laughing at the idea of trying to switch out the whole stadium for fat people. 

His next idea was to go to the seat of fat men’s power: Uncle Mac’s restaurant. Uncle Mac’s was notorious for accommodating big guys and granting their wishes. Usually it was a food related wish, but still. Jason wasn’t allowed to come here most of the year while he was playing, so it felt like a treat just getting to smell the sugary salty air. Mac seemed excited just to have Jason in his restaurant. 

“Well if it isn’t number 57, just like Heinz! What brings you on in?”

“I had a pitch for you, but if you keep me in here too long, I’m going to have to take a snack break.”

Mac gave Jason a pat on the gut. “Well we could always start with food and do the business while you eat. You’re here first thing in the morning, I could get you some biscuits and gravy, maybe some chicken and waffles.”

“I do love your fried chicken.”

“And we always serve real pieces of chicken, not tenders.”

“Maybe put in an order with a side of hashbrowns.”

Within moments, one of the waiters brought two platters into the office. Mac watched Jason chow down like he was watching a strip tease. He had heard the rumors about Mac; he knew what was happening. Mac might not like football, but he thought Jason was hot. Jason explained his next idea:  a football fan club for the super obese. The team would advertise Uncle Mac’s as the place to go for everyone who couldn’t waddle into a seat for a home game. 

Mac was scared the drunken fans might scare off his usual brunch clientele, but agreed to a trial run season on one condition: Jason must eat a meal at the restaurant every week. A meal a week doesn’t seem like much if you don’t know about Uncle Mac’s cooking. Uncle Mac made some of the most addictive calorie-laden food in the country.  Jason could hear the warnings from his old coaches and his wife in the back of his head. He licked the syrup and crumbs off his fingers and agreed to it. 

At the first meeting of the fan club, Jason almost felt a little secure in his deal. Jason watched some of the biggest guys he had ever seen waddle through the door.  The waiters were on a first name with most of the guys. They shuffled around to give them reinforced seats and still he heard furniture groan under the weight.  If too many of them jumped to their feet at once, it shook the whole restaurant. Jason finally got to meet Scott who had put on some more weight in the month since the debacle. His tent-sized jersey was actually getting small. It rode up at the bottom, exposing stretch marks across the fresh flab. Jason figured that once a week would still keep him away from being the size of these guys. After all, their order were far bigger than his. One guy ate corn dogs non-stop the whole first quarter just to order a meal afterwards with Uncle Mac’s usual giant portions. 

Every week, Jason had a platter with the game and watched in bewilderment as the waiters cheered on their increasing growth. The waiters marked every single sign of weight gain: popped buttons, snapped belts, a new double chin. The whole restaurant would erupt in thunderous applause if one of the chairs gave out under someone. Every time it happened, it made the waiters push out more food at the next game. Jason and the rest of the fan club would keep absentmindedly chewing on every fat-riddled snack as long as football was on. Mac would make up specials just for his increasingly hungry fan club. Jason thought he was just a passive observer until one day it was his turn. 

The week before Christmas, Jason was making plans now that it looked like the team was going to the playoffs. He was walking past the section of booths when another big guy was coming down the aisle. Without thinking, Jason goes:

“Excuse me, let me just squeeze past you.” Jason turned sideways and knocked a set of silverware off the table. He bent over and a memory flashed in his mind from that morning. Trying to jump and yank those pants over his thighs and ass had rattled the windows.  His poor wife had to help him button them up because they would not snap closed and he couldn’t see under his belly. A little extra tension on those pants was too much for those threads. The crackling sound of the rip made the whole restaurant turn around. Jason scooped up the silverware and then scurried away. 

That was not the most embarrassing moment of his first year, though. The week of the conference final at the end of January, Jason got a message saying they wanted to honor him with an award at the next game. He happily obliged and found some new tailored clothes for the occasion. Nevermind that the tailoring actually made all the fold of his moobs and belly more pronounced for national television. No, the worst was when he was lined up with some of the greats of his team and they gave them special seats. Jason lowered himself and realized that he was having a little difficulty. The hard plastic pinched at his sides. His ass wouldn't quite settle. Jason realized that now he was just like Scott. He was now the giant fat man too big to enjoy football in the stadium, and anyone with a screen could watch it happen in real time. 

Mac immediately sent him a text that read, “You are officially an Uncle Mac’s spokesperson. The restaurant is yours as many seasons as you want it or at least as long as you can waddle through my doors. Look at everyone who came!”Mac sent a picture where every corner of the frame was filled with an ocean of fat wearing the tattered remains of team merch they had outgrown. Even Scott was grinning with his ass overflowing two chairs and a pair of team sweatpants with giant holes where his thighs had worn down the fabric. Mac sent another text, “We have the old jersey you didn’t finish busting through waiting on you.”

Jason looked down the row and saw some of the other fat guys trying to adjust their flab in the narrow seats. He called out, “Hey, who wants a bit to eat?”

[filthykel]

As a fellow big guy, seeing you so confident in your body really makes me feel better about myself, which is something I've been struggling with a lot over the years. Wishing you nothing but happiness and success bro, keep killing it

Sending all of my love to you !!!! Please know that I’m doing this for you and for every one who sees a piece of themselves in me. I hate that as big people we are conditioned to live in shame. As a kid I was always criticized the most..it was always something wrong with me (too fat, too soft/feminine, too loud, scars on my body, hyperpigmentation, clothes too tight, etc) while the skinny kids would literally be celebrated for just existing. I would tell people I want to be a model and they would laugh in my face and joke about it. Every chance someone had to invalidate my dreams or my existence, they took the opportunity to do so. They would always project their hate and negativity onto me but tell me that it was ‘my truth’ and that I had to live my life according to their narrative of hate. I knew in my heart that they were wrong. They didn’t know me, nor did they ever like me. They hated me for existing as a jolly gay fat kid who marched to the beat of his own drum. Now I am defying the odds and existing as the super model that I always knew that I was. I encourage you to let go of all fears that you have in your mind and live your life out loud for yourself. Fuck the noise. Show up for you on your terms. If anyone has a problem with you they can find a therapist because it’s not your issue. If someone tries to make a comment about your body size, take up more space then dammit!! Being skinny don’t mean shit..they just get cold faster. Gone are the days where we are hiding in the shadows because we have bigger bodies. Go to that event, wear that risky outfit, eat that fucking meal, and keep celebrating yourself because you are worthy.🫶🏾

[toujokaname]

Mischief / Episode 1

Characters: Rinne, HiMERU, Kohaku, Niki

"But it's kinda creepy... Bein' loved or hated by folks I don't even know, in places I ain't never heard of. Guess that's just what bein' an idol's all about, huh?"

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Spring

Location: Café Cinnamon

Rinne: Yo, yo~♪

Still as cozy as ever, huh? You PBB lovebirds! Shoutout to the most lovey-dovey couple of the year! Gyahahahaha! ☆

HiMERU: It's really quite the talent how you've mastered the art of making others feel so uncomfortable the instant you open your mouth.

Rinne: Haah? I'm praising you, so rejoice, will ya? Thanks to you two, Crazy:B's having a once-in-a-lifetime jackpot streak!

C'mon, look at my phone! The notifications just won't stop dinging!

HiMERU: Is it because you're getting canceled again?

Rinne: No waaay, I've already been locked outta all my accounts 'cause I kept getting canceled.

These notifs? They're job offers for us.

People're begging for Crazy:B to show up on their shows, movies, interviews, photoshoots—

The offers are rollin' in like cha-ching, cha-ching, cha-chiiing!

Kohaku: Wow, sounds just like one of those pachinko machines.

Rinne: Pretty much what it feels like! It's not every day you get to cash in this big, right?

Though honestly, part of me's thinking, "What's goin' on all of a sudden? This is creepy as hell."

Not so long ago, everyone was like, "Crazy:B's gotta die!" Hated our guts, wouldn't give us any gigs—remember?

Niki: Nom, nom, nom... Maybe the public's finally recognizing all the hard work we put in last year?

Kohaku: I was wonderin' why you'd been so quiet after comin' in with Rinne-han. You're eatin' again, Niki-han...?

Niki: I've gotta eat all the time! Or I'll die!

Kohaku: So you've already got the lifestyle of an insect or somethin'.

Niki: Anyway, I don't really get it, but isn't more work a good thing? Maybe it's 'cause our latest Matrix got good reviews?

Rinne: They haven't even aired all the episodes yet. The reviews aren't bad, but y'know, people keep saying, "Well, considering it's Akan-san’s project..." It's basically just like that.

Niki: Hmm... We worked our butts off for that, so I hope it ends up with a good rep. It'd make our struggles feel a little more rewarded.

Rinne: Well, it's rare for stuff like karmic retribution to happen in society. It's always been the case that ill weeds grow apace, while good people get screwed over. Life's a piece of shit like that.

HiMERU: Those words carry a certain weight coming from you, Amagi.

Rinne: So yeah, this time around, it's best to think of it as just dumb luck.

HiMERU: Meaning?

Rinne: Meaning that it ain't like we worked our asses off, poured blood, sweat and tears into doing our best, and got rewarded for being earnest.

It's like tripping over a winning lottery ticket.

If you start seeing causality in that, next thing you know, you'll end up like me—acting all unnaturally nice to everyone before hitting the pachinko parlor, and creeping people out.

That's just me tryna stack up some good karma, hoping for a fat payoff in return.

It ain't like I got reincarnated as a kind-hearted, good person.

Niki: Wow, I don't get it when you use pachinko analogies! Sooo, toss in a food metaphor for me to chew on instead!

Rinne: Mm, but if we start on food, we'll get sidetracked. Y'know how when you're feeling happy, food often tastes better? There's a sort of cause-and-effect relationship, yeah?

HiMERU: —In short, what you're trying to say is, "this is just a fluke, so don't get too carried away."

Rinne: Yup, bingo! ♪ Maaan, it's always a relief how good at comprehension you are, Merumeru!

HiMERU: That's because there's always a very incomprehensible person nearby. Constantly.

However, it seems like this PBB thing really has become a big deal...

Since it's all happening online, it's easy to feel like it doesn't actually affect reality.

Rinne: Well, it ain't like the internet's some kinda isekai, y'know. It's connected to reality, no doubt about it.

And aren't there a lotta people these days who feel like the internet's more real than reality?

Kohaku: Uh. So, we're talkin' about how Crazy:B's gettin' a buncha jobs, and it's all 'cause of this PBB thing?

Rinne: I dunno what else could've caused it. All the requests are like, "we want HiMERU-kun and Oukawa-kun, the super popular PBB, on our show," and stuff like that.

Kohaku: We're really that popular... Me and HiMERU-han, huh...

Hmm, I guess that... I'm right pleased folks love me and all, but not knowin' why makes me kinda uneasy.

Niki: Not gonna lie, it's none of my business, so I don't really care~♪

Rinne: Me neither~♪

Kohaku: These guys... Well, I guess if we're gettin' more work and it's all good stuff, I don't really got any complaints.

But it's kinda creepy... Bein' loved or hated by folks I don't even know, in places I ain't never heard of.

Guess that's just what bein' an idol's all about, huh?

[ ☆ ]

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