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#has plus sized and skinny body shapes

loganofthenorth · 1 year

Text

Hear ye, Hear ye

I, Lady of the North, (url was taken so I made my username Logan of the North) have found a Picrew that I really like

So I now have the opportunity to start one of those Picrew tag games!

Make yourself in this Picrew, then tag 5 people to do the same!

My tag list (no pressure of course): @the-ding-dong-ditch-committee @darksides-dutchess @mydearboy51 @novainthevoid @susie--official

And of course anyone outside of the tagged people is welcome to as well!

#Picrew #poc picrew #disability picrew #has plus sized and skinny body shapes #fantasy picrew #tag game

348 notes · View notes

goodgirlofglory · 10 months

Note

Hiya doll! 👋 Finals month is still in motion, so I’ve been pretty quiet on the asks. But today I was feeling some sort of way, and I wanted to know if you’re open to this request.

“Bucky with a reader who is insecure about her body”

Basically, I see a lot of representation for plus size girlies on tumblr ( and this is no hate to anyone) but I wish there was also more representation for midsize girlies. Also for girls who are on the taller side, I’m talking 5”7 and up. I’m 5”7 myself, and wearing any shoe that gives me extra inches makes me feel like I tower over my friends or others.

Another thing is, if you do write for this ask, I was thinking that even though reader does have a low self-esteem, she puts on a front and seems like she has a majorrrrrr ego or god complex. So maybe, Bucky see through that, gets her down from there, and fucks her in front of a mirror 🫣🥵

And I oop-

Anyways, regardless to everything, have a fantastic day/night and rest of your week! I appreciate you 💜💜💜

Bestie!!!!🦋

I hope your finals went well!🫶🫶🫶

I am soooo sorry this took so long! It needed to sit with me for a while before I felt I could do it justice, and then life happened in the meantime ya'know.

Anyways I so dearly hope you like this🙏🙏 I resonated a lot with your prompt as a midsize girlie myself and channeled some of my own experience into it (though I have sadly never been fucked in front of a mirror by Bucky Barnes)💖

Anyway, hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are, you are a true gem 🫶✨️🫶✨️🫶

(Also can’t wait to hear what you think of this so lmk😘)

Just perfect / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x secretlyinsecure!taller!midsize!reader

Word count: 7,8k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, SMUT, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, dom!Bucky, unprotected p in v (be safe my sweet darlings), a split second of oral (f receiving), reader is insecure and has some harmful thoughts about her own body.

Summary: A rather dreadful Christmas party at S.H.I.E.L.D takes a turn for the better (and frankly therapeutical) when Bucky Barnes shows you that your self-deprecating thoughts about your body might not be as objective as you thought.

“Mid,” you muttered to yourself as you looked over your outfit one more time in the mirror, fighting down the nagging notion of not feeling entirely satisfied with the reflection. The little, black dress fit you perfectly, hugging your upper body like a second skin before flaring out in the shimmering, silk fabric of the skirt that reached just below your knees. Appropriate for a work party, while the hidden slit in the side of the skirt was just a little something extra cheeky for those who’d pay attention. You doubted anyone would. It fit your persona as a ruthless man repeller perfectly too. No flashy colors, no risque shapes, no cutouts and not too short. No fun either, but that wasn’t important here. The cleavage even appeared modest with the average size of your breasts.

“Fucking mandatory Christmas party,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and left your apartment to head to the Avengers compound for the second time that day. How is it even allowed to make an after hours social event mandatory, you wondered angrily as you got in the waiting cab. You kept adjusting your dress as the city slowly flashed by outside the cab window, second guessing everything about your outfit from the dress to the shoes to the bag to the red lipstick you’d dared yourself to put on, afraid it was too much and too basic at the same time.

You knew it was ridiculous to feel so self conscious about yourself and your body. For all intents and purposes, you were perfectly and quite uninterestingly average, neither plus size nor skinny. You knew your plus size girlies had a way harder time being judged and disrespected for their size, and you didn’t want to be too skinny either, like malnourished. You were perfectly midsize, eating healthy and exercising for your body's sake, eating chocolate and pasta and drinking beer for your mental health’s sake. You were perfectly. average. midsize.

It was just that, the lack of appreciation and attention over the years has slowly chipped away at your confidence, and then your self-image, and then your self-esteem, to a point that it was difficult to even rouse any positive thoughts about yourself that didn’t feel half-hearted or mandatory for the girlboss-affirmation of the day.

The one thing you had going for you, the one thing you felt unequivocally confident about, was your job. Working as one of the high level secretaries for Fury himself, you actually had quite the high seat in the house, with clearance, authority and trust from the big man on top himself. It also meant saying no to quite a lot of things and people on a daily basis, to stop people from charging into the director's office in anger, to be authoritative enough to make people listen and actually do whatever orders you delivered on the director’s behalf (and your own sometimes). The job, which you loved and had worked hard to get, was just a tad challenging to splice with a lack of self-image.

So you’ve built a ruthless, badass, girlboss, gatekeep, gaslight persona for yourself, known for being resistant to all flattery, all bribes, all flirting and all begging. Nothing got past you and everyone seemed just a little afraid of you. It was true, you’d garnered the nickname “the other she-hulk” among your peers. And though you embodied this persona like the most natural thing in the world, it was also a front really, for your honest to God lack of confidence in your everything average.

Oh yeah, except for your height, you realized as you got out of the cab at your destination and was hailed over by the other female colleagues in your department waiting outside the compound - the shoes you wore turned out to give you several inches of height on the other girls, even as they also wore stiletto-like heels. In the height department, you were just above average, which did not make you feel any better necessarily.

Fuck. You looked like their fucking body guard, looming behind them like a giraffe as you made your way inside, them smiling and laughing, you affecting your haughty mask, the one that protected you the best when you were feeling a bit off-kilter. Better to deem everyone here below your interest before they even had a chance to assess you, right?

The party was nice. They’d somehow managed to make the compound not feel like a concrete bunker, decorating almost every surface with some fabric or other, flashy reds and silvers and greens and blues, giant trees everywhere overloaded with decorations. Maximalism galore.

“It looks like Santa exploded in here,” you joked to your colleagues, receiving a bout of wild laughter in return. It hadn’t really been that funny, but hey, maybe you could be known as the “other deadpool” in the future if you worked hard enough on your comedy.

As usual, the lovelier girls of your department got swarmed pretty quickly by guys. Recruits, officers, cadets, other secretaries - they all flocked to your group. You didn’t blame them, your colleagues were beautiful, witty, smiling brightly and exuding a sort of light that could only be rivaled by the sun. They were nice to everyone too, unlike you.

You stayed and chatted for a bit. No one commented on your dress and certainly not the split at the side, and you tried not to let that get to you. This was a work event, after all, it would be inappropriate if they did come on to you or something. Your self-esteem whimpered quietly even so.

It didn’t take long for the rest to get tipsy, and someone started blasting music somewhere, effectively switching from corporate mingling-mode to drunken tomfoolery-mode. You easily resisted getting dragged to the dancefloor, effecting a disinterested, above-it-all mask as your work friends pouted and dragged your arm in a petulant, though surprisingly endearing way.

“I’m not debasing myself tonight, thank you very much,” you said, knowing it was harsh but only gaining a playfully scolding look before the whole gang bounced off to dance without you.

You made your way over to the bar instead. A half-hour or so more and then you could safely leave without breaking any social codes, you thought with relief as you ordered another glass of champagne.

Turning from the bar, glass in hand, you suddenly bumped into someone, champagne sloshing around the rim, a few drops spilling over your hand.

“Hey, watch where-” you started, words dying in your mouth as you looked up…and up a broad chest, a thick neck and then came face to face with Bucky Barnes aka the Winter Soldier himself.

B-big, your brain supplemented eloquently as you stopped speaking all together.

How was he so tall? Okay, so you knew he was tall, you’d encountered him regularly over the years and had always felt dwarfed by the tree-trunk size of the man, but you were in four inch heels, god damnit, and you still had to crane your neck to look into his eyes. They glinted as he looked down on you, and for a moment you forgot who you were supposed to be and nearly shrank in on yourself, feeling uncharacteristically small.

“Sorry,” he simply said, giving you a once-over so quick you weren’t sure it’d happened at all, and then he leaned around you to grab a few napkins from the bar. He made quick work of taking the glass from your hand and wiping the stray drops of champagne from it, set it on the bar and then gently took your hand in his and wiped it as well.

You could only stare in astonishment at the size of his hands, rough and calloused, but with neatly trimmed nails, engulfing yours and being so exquisitely gentle. He put the glass back in your hand and looked down at you with a pleased smile.

You quickly amassed your indifferent mask, raising a haughty eyebrow at him, and stepped aside so he could order whatever he wanted. He’d at least apologized and cleaned up the mess he (and you together, admittedly) had caused. You supposed it was the best outcome, both for your pride and confidence. You didn’t step far from the bar, sure you would be back soon enough for another glass, and looked out on the burgeoning dance floor in front of you.

“Why don’t you join?” a deep voice asked from the side.

Looking over, Bucky had come up to stand at your side, looking out over the crowd as well, whiskey glass in hand. His strong profile was illuminated by the flashing lights of the dance floor, reflected in those baby blue eyes, and his hair was tucked back into a bun at the back of his head. His suit must have been tailored by sorcery or something, because it hugged him in all the right places, press neat and crisp, making him look both perfectly put together and indecently so.

Okay, so maybe you had a little something of a crush on the guy. He was fine as hell, and always put this old school New York charm on you whenever you met. He was the only one who still tried to charm and flirt with you whenever he came to Fury’s office, and though you put on your unimpressed and uninterested mask, thoroughly shutting him down each time, you secretly appreciated those moments more than you would ever admit out loud. It felt nice that he at least treated you the same as all the other secretaries - he was the only one who still did.

You raised your eyebrow, securing a bored look even as you wanted to ask with you?

“Not exactly my crowd,” you said instead, taking a swig at your drink.

“No? Didn’t think you cared about things like that,” he said, smoothly challenging you.

“Not exactly my music, then,” you said. Arrogance and low energy usually got people to leave you alone when you felt fragile. You turned to give him a fake, sarcastically apologetic smile.

“Ah, I see. Too bad, would’ve loved to see how wide that split goes while you twirl,” he said, leaning closer to you, and in your shock the mask you’d held on so tight cracked, and you whipped to look at him. He’d noticed it?

You saw the pleased victory shining in his eyes. Cheeky bastard was trying to break you, trying to make you drop the haughty exterior, like he knew you were only putting up a front. And you’d let your mask slip and showed him he was right. And like you suspected he knew, it was the exact sort of thing you deeply, secretly craved someone to do.

But it wouldn’t be that easy. Bucky could just be fucking with you, or making easy conversation. But he’d noticed the split in your dress, so he must’ve been looking, right? Just a little harder than everybody else. Still, it was out of the question to just drop every defense and wall you had now, in this room, just because of one comment from him. You quickly affected an unimpressed, almost fatigued mask, raising your glass to your lips.

“Too bad, Barnes, I’ve already had my high school prom,” you said, delivering the line with just the perfect amount of arrogance and judgment.

You felt his eyes lingering on your face for long moments as you stared into the crowd, refusing to meet his eyes and potentially let more slip. This shit was exhausting enough when people didn’t clock on to your farce. Still, a small part of you didn’t want him to stop looking, to stop showering you in this undivided attention that sizzled like carbonic bubbles on your skin.

You immediately shut down your disappointment when he left without another word, telling yourself to be proud you didn’t beg or flirt or plead for his attention like everyone else did. You didn’t need anyone but yourself, you needed to remember that.

The music shifted from some mainstream pop song to some very old jazz, and the sudden shift only had a second to register before Bucky appeared as from thin air, took your glass from you, downed the rest of your drink in one gulp (eyes shining with mischief as you gawked a little at him), ditched the glass on the nearby table and then promptly took you by the hands and hauled you out on the dance floor.

“W-wait, I -” your words cut off to a little squeal as the soldier wrapped a strong arm around your waist and twirled you so your feet lifted off the ground, the skirt of your dress flying out. Your arms clung around his neck and shoulders as the world spun in a flurry of bright, flickering lights, and your feet didn’t touch the ground for ten solid seconds as Bucky turned and turned.

When he eventually put you down, his arms didn’t let up much, keeping you firmly tucked to the hard planes of his stomach and chest with a hand that went around your back and held your waist on the other side.

You schooled your expression down even as nerves and excitement and a fair share of actual, fucking excitement filled you from the unexpected dancing. You actually did like to dance a lot. You looked up and found Bucky’s eyes on your face, glimmering in the bright lights as he easily led you in some old timey couple’s dance that he apparently knew perfectly.

“This music more to your liking?” he asked, challenging and genuine at the same time, and you couldn’t for the life of you understand his angle. Why was he doing this?

You knew people were watching, even as the dance floor was still full of other dancers making due with their modern dance moves to the old music. And though you did feel kinda nervous being so exposed, you couldn’t very well cut off this dance and leave - that would only make you look even more insecure than you felt.

So you soldiered through, putting on a mildly entertained, smug look and looking Bucky in the eyes.

“It’s certainly something else,” you said, and watched as his eyes flared over with a sort of playful frustration, shaking his head a little at you, but smiling despite himself.

“Drop the act, sweetheart,” he said then, low enough for no one else to hear, but it still made you bristle.

“What act?” you said, making it sound nonchalant and innocent at the same time. “Just because you remember one dance from 70 years ago, I’m supposed to swoon?” you challenged, knowing the words were harsh but goddamnit, he was getting too close.

A groan escaped him then, one you felt more than heard from the way your bodies were pressed together, and you flushed, not expecting that kind of response.

He leaned down and murmured in your ear.

“I like it when you’re mean, but I’d like it more if you were honest,” he said, and your breath caught, the physical sensation of his hot breath on your ear distracting you to the point of stumbling a bit on your heels. His arm around your waist didn’t let you so much as twist an ankle, which made you feel even more heated.

Before you could come up with a retort, Bucky flung you out in a twirl, making your skirt fly around you. He led you perfectly even as he almost threw you around like a ragdoll, and you had to admit you were amazed by how graceful you were even as every move and twist were orchestrated and led by Bucky. The crowd disappeared as you moved to the music, coming back to Bucky, being swung out again, your back to his front at one point, his breath hot on your neck, swinging out again and stepping past each other in swoops only connected by your hand in his.

You met his eyes and saw the flash over with an intensity that made your skin prickle, with a hunger you could scarcely believe was meant for you, eyes raking over your body, lingering on the leg peaking out through the split in your skirt, your chest heaving in the low cut neckline of your dress, your face flushed and no doubt looking as amazed as you felt on the inside.

The dance ended in a perfectly timed dip, Bucky holding you down and cradling your neck and the small of your back in capable arms, face so close you could feel his breath fan across your face, smelling of whiskey and spearmint.

You smiled, couldn’t help it, you hadn’t had this much fun at a work event in years. Bucky’s eyes flitted about your face as he echoed your smile with a brilliant flash of teeth himself. Your heart thudded in your chest, and your eyes flicked down to his lips, those luscious, plump lips and oh holy fuck did you want to kiss him at that moment. A desperation you couldn’t quell seized you by your fucking guts and you positively throbbed. Your smile faltered, and you saw his fall too. Daring to look up into his eyes, you saw the same hunger reflected there, nearly engulfing you in its heat.

Then the crowd returned, cheering, the music went back to some pop song from last year and reality dumped back in on your head so fast you almost made the mistake of scrambling out of Bucky’s hold.

No, no, no, way too exposed, this was not how you planned this night…

You were actually proud of the way you managed to slowly extract yourself from Bucky’s arms, give a slow, bored “thank you,” and then calmly leave the room all together to escape to the ladies room.

You had to admit, they hadn’t neglected the bathrooms in the compound, you thought as you occupied the space alone. They were kinda nice, big and spacious, marble and polished steel making the space comfortable and with an air of luxury compared to the practical, brutalist vibe of the rest of the building.

You touched up on your lipstick, hands shaking a little from the excursion of the dancing. Okay, you needed to leave, you thought to yourself as you felt your skin still sizzling faintly wherever Bucky’s hands had touched you. Your nerves seemed newly awakened as if from a deep slumber, and it would not do to develop an even deeper crush on him.

As if summoned, the door to the bathroom opened and Bucky stepped through, eyes finding yours in the mirror immediately.

“I think you’re supposed to be in the next room over Barnes,” you drawled even as your heart picked up speed.

He didn’t answer as he slowly crossed the room.

You couldn’t help shifting in your skin as your body thrummed with an exhausting amount of nervous excitement. His gaze was level,possessing your attention like an iron grip. It was like he saw right through every mask and facade you tried to put on, right in to the very center, the very truth inside you. It lulled you and provoked you at the same time.

“You’re in the wrong restroom, Barnes,” you said, even harsher, when he was about halfway across to you. He still didn’t answer.

You spun to face him, anger welling higher. Who did he think he was, coming in here and stripping away the only scraps of protection you had, looking at you like he could read the thoughts as they appeared in your mind?

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” he answered as you glared at him, coming to stop directly in front of you, only inches between you, and the air there sparked with energy you just couldn’t deny you were affected by.

You scoffed, fighting against the crumbling of your exterior. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you wanted him. Couldn’t deny it, couldn’t help yourself as your muscles ached to reach for him, to press yourself against him and let him wrap his strong, safe arms around you again. To tuck yourself away into him and shut your mind off and just feel taken care of - in any way - by someone other than yourself.

A desperate thought occurred to you; maybe you could do this without losing face. If you went on the offensive, you could still hold control over the situation while still letting whatever was sizzling between you and Bucky explode, you thought a bit desperately as you held his stare, his eyes darkening as the seconds ticked by. Maybe you didn’t have to bare your soul for him in order to get a taste of what you wanted. You could just make it out to be a hookup at a party, something carnal but detached. Give your body to him while still guarding your mind and soul.

Not giving yourself a moment more to stall, you surged forward, grabbed his neck and kissed him. He wasn’t as surprised as you’d liked by your sudden call to action. In fact, he seemed to come unleashed the moment your lips met his, a grunt sounding in his throat as he instantly wrapped one arm around your waist, his other going into your hair to keep your head firmly put where he wanted it.

Yes

The kiss was filthy, hot breaths and open mouths and tongue on tongue almost immediately, like a dam of pent up lust had just erupted at that first touch for the both of you. He pushed you back so the marble counter dug into your ass, and plastered himself against you, groaning as your hands moved to map out his back.

You fumbled to reach for the lapels on his jacket and he let up his hold just long enough for you to wrench his suit jacket off him before both pair of hands went on frantically groping and gripping and touching, and you couldn’t seem to draw breath into your aching lungs for all the burning desire that flooded your body.

Bucky broke out of your heady kiss, gasping as he leaned his forehead to yours, hands gripping your hip and the back of your neck so tight it almost pinched you, and you relished the feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned between pants, and you liked the sound of that very much.

You gave him a sultry and cocky “mhm” as you kissed him again, nipping at his bottom lip. When you opened your eyes again, he was still looking at you, his stare so fucking intense.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, and that…was stepping into a territory you were not too keen on. You couldn’t have sentimentality at that moment. You couldn’t control your tiny wince either, trying to move on with another kiss, your hands dragging down the hard planes of his chest to entice him to move along.

Bucky didn’t grant you that mercy. He apparently saw your wince as well as he saw the split in your skirt, and scrutinized you with a piercing stare as he reiterated between kisses.

“So gorgeous,” he murmured and you tried your damndest to ignore it, kissing him more intently, hands moving a bit desperately to his belt, but an uncomfortable laughter escaped you either way.

Bucky stopped your hands, grabbing them and putting them on the counter at your side before cradling your face firmly in his hands.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what is he doing, you lamented as you looked everywhere but his eyes.

“I mean it, you’re a gorgeous woman,” he said and you whined softly, not at all capable of hearing that. Whether out of a misguided sense of pity or because he wanted to get in your panties, you didn’t want him to tell you that shit just to placate you. You were already dying to get fucked, false flattery was of no need. You were practically soaking your panties already just from his kisses and his hands, one warm and one slightly colder, moving over your body like he couldn’t get to all of it quick enough.

“You don’t have to-” you started exasperated, squirming to get away from the intimacy of his proximity, the way he looked at you and the way he was cradling your face.

“You see, this is what I mean. I think you’re hiding, doll. You don’t realise how fucking amazing you are, and you hide it behind a bitchy face and even bitchier words,” he said.

Words failed you then. The fucking audacity of this man to call you out like that. You were not prepared to be laid out like that, and you didn’t know whether to fight back with teeth and claws or to flee in your humiliation.

Bucky must have seen your warring thoughts on your face, the simmering rage at being cornered and confronted like this, like an animal frantic with self preservation.

“You don’t believe me?” he asked, and you could see a fierce competitive glint light on fire in his eyes, pouncing on the challenge.

In a flash, he’d turned you around and you met your own expression in the mirror above the sink. Bucky stepped flush against you again, and nestled the hard bulge in his pants right against your ass. You squirmed and whined a little. You wanted that inside you already. But Bucky held you tightly pinned between himself and the counter, his metal hand coming around to splay on your stomach, shining metal against the black silk fabric, effectively giving you no room to move. His hand was so huge, it covered nearly the whole area between your belly button and the underside of your heaving breasts. He propped his chin on your shoulder and captured your eyes through the reflection in the mirror.

“You’re exquisite, doll” he whispered, his other hand landing lightly on your waist. This time you saw your own wince of disbelief in the mirror, instantly embarrassed at how revealing you were. Heat bloomed on your cheeks, both from his words and the way his eyes were just eating your body up in the mirror.

“I’m nothing special,” you heard yourself murmur.

“Oh, on the contrary, doll, you’re as rare as they come,” Bucky said, flesh hand moving to grab your hips appreciatively. “Swinging these hips all around the compound, your walk so sweet compared to that barking mouth you’ve got on ya,” he said, drawled a bit, his Brooklyn accent coming forth, kneading your hips and pulling you back to grind your ass on his hard bulge.

Your breath hitched on a gasp, and your heart fluttered in your chest. He’d been watching the way you walked? And he liked it?

His hands came up to cup one of your heaving breasts.

“Such elegant lines, perfect, round tits,” he murmured into the skin below your ears, and you trembled in his arms as his fingers teased a nipple through the thin fabric of your dress.

“A neck that’s just begging to be sucked on and marked,” he continued before his lips sealed itself to that sensitive spot right below the hinge of your jaw and you gasped raggedly as sparks flew through your body.

You were positively high on the novelty of his praise, but you just couldn’t quite believe it.

“I’ve…a-always just thought I was so average,” you admitted, voice timid, nothing short of a whisper, and you berated yourself for revealing your insecurity so openly, even as Bucky’s lips let go of your skin and he nuzzled the hair behind your ear.

“God, no,” he sighed, hand coming down to your hip again, guiding you to grind back on his bulge again, and fuck, he was hard, “I don’t get how you could even think that,” he said, and the genuine astonishment in his voice had to be real, or else he was a brilliant fucking actor.

Your hips had started moving on their own now, steadily grinding between his metal hand on your stomach and the hard cock at your ass, sizzling sparks of heat traveling your body from the friction. You could feel Bucky nodding into the crook of your neck, encouraging and praising at the same time.

“But I’m…kinda tall…surely y-you’d want someone shorter, m-more petite?” you heard yourself whisper, and you just had to ask him right out, to give voice to those incessant, nagging insecurities.

He actually laughed then, a breathy chuckle against the exposed skin of your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? You nearly gave me a heart attack in these heels tonight, baby,” he said easily, calm and honest and straightforward and it was like he wasn't even trying to convince you of anything, he was just speaking honestly. “And when you danced with me? How sexy and smooth and fucking alive you were as you let me spin you? Couldn’t take my fucking eyes of you, fuck, I haven’t been this hard in ages. Plus, you’re just perfect for me to fuck like this. Can’t you feel how perfectly your ass fits against my cock when you grind like that, huh? Can’t have that with a shorter girl, you were made for me, darling,” he said, breath growing puffy and you were almost shaking, both from his words and the blazing fucking heat they stoked.

A needy, whimpering sort of whine escaped you at that. It was perfect, your height to his. Perfect for you to nudge your ass against his pelvis and feel his hot lips and a sliver of tongue on the heated skin of your neck at the same time.

“Do you believe me, now, sweetheart? Or do you need me to fuck it into you?” he asked then, a teasing lilt to his voice even as it dropped a fucking octave, rumbling over you skin, making you ache.

You turned your head to graze your lips against his, recognising when he was posing a challenge by now, when his competitive side came out to play. You waited just a few seconds, letting your mingling, ragged breaths fill the silence, before answering, looking him straight in his eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” you whispered against his mouth.

His reaction was almost instant. His metal hand came up to cradle your throat, pinning you close to him as his flesh hand had the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips in a split second. His hand was between your legs in the next second, brazen and possessive and you fucking loved it, knees nearly buckling in your stilettos as his warm flesh palm cupped you there. A filthy groan sounded in your ear.

“Fucking perfect pussy already soaked for me, huh?” he downright growled, fingers moving up and down your clothed slit, feeling just how wet you were through the flimsy fabric of your lace panties. “This pussy aching, huh? Hasn’t been fucked right in ages, I reckon? Some bastard left you feeling like less than just perfect?” he babbled as he began rubbing tight circles on your clit, making you keen at both his words and ministrations, mind floating up to the fucking skies on a cloud of endorphins and arousal. “You give me their names, honey, and I’ll make sure they never bother you again,” he said, dark intentions in an even darker, gruffer voice and you couldn’t stand still for the way you needed him.

“Fuuuck, please, Bucky,” you whined, grinding your pussy down on his hand, soaking his fingers.

“That’s right, baby, you take what you deserve, you take what this perfect body deserves,” he encouraged.

“I need…I need,” you breathed, eyes closing as you rode the sensation of being touched like this, so expertly, too much one second and not enough the next.

“What do you need, baby? Tell me,” he groaned into the skin of your neck.

“I need…your…please, your cock,” you whimpered.

His hands pulled back and gave your pussy a playful little slap, making you jolt and yelp in his arms, and the slight sting felt so fucking good.

“That’s right,” he said, giving you a few precious seconds to collect your frayed, jumbled, melting mind as he frantically undid his belt and fly, pulling his cock out and pulling your soiled panties to the side to notch his cock at your weeping hole.

He didn’t give you anymore time to beg before he pushed his hips forward and you both gasped raggedly as his cock slid in, perfectly to the hilt, your pussy sucking him in like it had a mind of its own. His whole frame, massive and rugged as it was, shuddered as he stood there with his cock buried inside you, and you opened your eyes to watch in astonished fascination through the reflection in the mirror as he took a moment to get a hold of himself. One hand flexed its grip around your throat, the other on your hip, grip so tight and you hoped it would leave bruises.

He didn’t wait long until he started thrusting, pulling out almost completely before thrusting in again, forgoing any buildup and going straight to the main fucking course and you were so ridiculously relieved he wasn’t teasing you anymore.

His hands let go of you and you fell forward, draping yourself over the counter so you could just feel the way his cock, thick and ridged and so fucking hard, dragged against your walls, yielding nothing as he speared you.

“Need to see you,” Bucky breathed between pants as he kept fucking you.

You felt the bodice of your dress loosen and realized he had undone the zipper at the back of your dress, peeling it off your arms and then hauling you the meat of your shoulder to straighten against him again, completely naked from the waist up.

His hands were on your exposed skin immediately, mapping out your ribcage, squeezing the pouch beneath your belly button and coming up to knead your breasts, pulling on your nipples. He was like a man starved, all the while his cock was steadily pumping into you, pushing you higher and higher, the sounds from where you were joined filtering in through your haze of lust and pleasure like a sinful symphony.

You opened your eyes to find his in your reflection, pools of incendiary desire following every minute twitch of your face. Your eyes flicked over your own face and saw the crimson flush, the sweat on your brow, hair ruffled, the scrunched up expression and heavy-lidded, drugged eyes. You looked a downright, embarrassing mess, your deepest pleasure so plainly written on your face, exposing you to the point of pain and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to lean back to hide in the crook of his neck.

Bucky did not let you.

“Oh no, no, no, don’t hide from me now, sugar,” he said, one hand coming up to pull your face forward, “look at me,” he ordered and you opened your eyes to his again.

“See how exquisite you are?” he asked, hips slapping against your ass. “See how beautiful you look, taking my cock?” he asked, watching you watch him in the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he ordered, and you whimpered as you met your own gaze in the mirror again.

There was an almost lascivious tilt to his voice as he kissed your neck sloppily and murmured.

“Tell her she looks beautiful,” he said.

You thrashed as much as you could in your pinned position, the counter digging into your hips, high heeled shoes barely touching the floor.

“Bucky,” you whined petulantly. There was no way.

“Say it, darling,” he warned before his hips slowed down to an almost complete stop, and that only made you thrash harder. “Oh, you want to come baby? Then look at yourself in the mirror and say ‘I’m beautiful,” he said, and you gawked at him in disbelief, humiliation and mortification burning hot on your cheeks.

The hand not holding your face towards the mirror kept exploring your flesh as he waited, pinching and grabbing everywhere like he just couldn’t stop. You looked at yourself in the mirror, took in the simmering fire in your eyes, your lips with its bright red lipstick smeared all over.

“Come on, darling, don’t you want to come? Won’t you let me make you come?” Bucky asked, spreading kisses down your neck as his eyes burned into your face through the mirror.

You fought it for as long as you could, didn’t want to play these games, didn’t want to see your own vulnerability on your face as you said something you should believe but didn’t quite.

Bucky grinded his hips all the way inside you and then stilled completely and your need won.

“I’m beautiful,” you whispered, breath hitching as you saw the disbelief, the resistance in your own eyes, hating yourself both for saying it and not believing it.

Bucky groaned in a resolutely pleased manner and started moving his hips again, languidly stroking in and out of your sopping cunt.

“Again,” came his growled order from behind.

Your resilience was weaker this time, with the tip of his cock reaching so deep, adding rhythmic pressure to that elusive spot in the deepest nook of your body that had your knees going wobbly.

“I’m beautiful,” you said again, this time giving a low, timid voice to the words.

Bucky groaned behind you, hands gripping you tighter as his hips picked up speed.

“That’s right. Say ‘I’m gorgeous’.”

“I-I’m gorgeous.”

“Say ‘I deserve this’”

“I d-d - oh fuck - I deserve this - ah -”

“Say ‘I’m making Bucky Barnes crazy on a daily basis and I don’t even care enough to acknowledge it,” Bucky husked behind you.

That made you actually giggle, though it came out more like a stuttering whine.

“I-I didn’t know,” you moaned, breaking your own eye contact in the mirror to look at his face. You honestly didn’t. Sure, you’d established a playful banter over the years, frequently sparking conversation whenever he was at your desk for something concerning Fury or you met in the halls or right after department meetings. But you’d honestly never considered you, just being you, could be driving a man like him crazy.

Eyes dark as the ocean burned into yours from where his face was propped on your shoulder, mouth nibbling on the side of your neck and your earlobe as his hips kept up a punishing pace. It was becoming hard to string together coherent thoughts, your mind going hazy from the steady punch of his cock.

He smiled against your skin, nipping it so hard you squealed a little, head swimming from the mix of pain and pleasure.

“You’re killing me here, doll,” Bucky murmured playfully against your skin, hands moving again, skimming over your skin and kneading your flesh in such an appreciative way it had you blushing, even as you were steadily pounded by his cock, halfnaked in the bathroom at your workplace during a fucking Christmas party.

It was all a haze, the way you were hurtling towards the precipice of your orgasm, his cock in your pussy, his hot breath on your neck, his hands roaming your body like a starved beast. The smell of his rich, musky cedar cologne and the hint of fresh, male sweat. And his eyes, devouring everything his hands didn’t touch.

“I-I’m gonna…fuck, Bucky -” you stammered. You were so close.

“I got you,” Bucky answered breathlessly, his flesh hand moving down between your legs to stroke your clit in fast, tight circles.

You keened, vision blurring as your muscles seized, teetering on the edge. You faintly registered your own expression in the mirror in front of you, mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching and a crimson flush high on your cheeks.

You heard Bucky groaning behind you and trembled at the sound.

“Fuck, there you go, baby, fuck you’re squeezing me so fucking - tight, god damn -”

And then Bucky was wrenching your face to the side and kissing you. And maybe it was the way his hips stuttered as you moaned into his mouth, or maybe it was the possessiveness with which he pushed his tongue into yours. Maybe it was the way his metal hand gripped you tighter as you started shaking, or maybe it was the sheer desperation in his kiss as he herded you over the edge that truly made you feel beautiful in that moment. Beautiful and blissed out as you spasmed on his cock, hearing his choked grunt as you pulled his orgasm right out of him.

You felt him throb in turn with you, his cum pooling hot deep inside you, the both of you nearly falling off your damn feet as you came together, the kiss disintegrating to a mere sloppy tangle of breaths and tongues.

As you slowly came down from your high, your mind started whirring. Halfway preparing for Bucky to pull out and leave swiftly. To maybe give you a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, to push the skirt of your dress down over your ass and then make his exit from this very public bathroom. It wasn’t that you thought Bucky was some kind of sleaze, but it would be okay if he left it at that. You were a big girl, you knew people got carried away during a rowdy fuck, and if he left it at this, you would be fine. You told yourself as much, at least…

But Bucky didn’t leave. He didn’t pull out right away, either. Once you could both catch your breath, he reiterated his kiss, slow and thorough and breathtaking all anew. His metal hand firmly secured your face to meet his and his flesh hand gave your clit a few more gentle swirls, and you could feel his smile, fascinated and playful against your mouth as you jolted at the sensation. Whimpering a little at the overstimulation but keeping yourself completely still for it anyway, you were astonished by how sensitive you were and how fucking good it felt to have Bucky teasingly play with you as you basked in the afterglow.

You squeezed around his cock still lodged inside you, and he gave a little grunt in response.

“Careful, sugar, or I might get hard again,” he murmured against our lips, rolling his hips gently into your ass.

“Is…is that supposed to deter me?” you asked, your snarky tone just a little undermined by the way you gasped.

He groaned at that, low and pleased.

“I suppose it should…at least until I can get you out of this fucking bathroom and into a bed,” he murmured, and a surge of adrenaline went through you. He wanted to do this again?

A small thought in the back of your mind wondered how it was possible that no one had come in and interrupted you by now, but it was quickly pushed away as Bucky gently pulled himself out of you. You tried to conceal the shiver of arousal that went through you as you felt his cum leak out of you and down the inside of your thighs.

“Stay like that,” he whispered, removing himself and the fucking furnace of warmth that had been plastered to your back. The cold air hitting your back made you realize just how naked and exposed you were, your dress a scrunched up tangle low on your waist.

You didn’t have time to become self-conscious though, before Bucky was back, kneeling behind you. Peaking over your shoulder, you were just in time to see him wipe a damp hand towel up your thigh and gently across the puffy, sensitive mess between your legs. You flushed for an entirely new reason now. It was just so…intimate, and sweet and generous and you struggled to handle the care and tenderness with which Bucky thoroughly cleaned both his mess and yours.

You watched him quietly as he cleaned you up, and then as he seemingly couldn’t help himself from bending forward and kissing your pussy, tongue darting out to swipe a small lick to your still sensitive clit. You yelped, hips bucking away.

He shushed you gently and kissed your ass cheek soothingly, fitting the admittedly soggy fabric of your panties back over your pussy before getting on his feet again. With gentle hands, he turned you around, and your eyes went wide as you looked down to see his cock still hanging out of his fly, already back to full hardness.

Bucky followed your shocked expression down and chuckled.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, hands still cradling your shoulders, moving up to knead the muscle between your shoulders and neck, and you hummed in pleasure, eyes falling close.

“Does that always happen?” you asked, feeling the soreness in the muscles ease up under Bucky’s dexterous fingers.

“No,” he answered simply, and you could tell by his tone that it meant something. That it lent itself to everything he’d said about you and the supposed attractiveness you held to him. You kept your eyes closed and bit your lips to keep from smiling too broadly at that.

Feeling emboldened, you reached for him, hands finding his clothed chest and stroking down until you reached his cock, wrapping a tentative fist around its stiff heat.

You heard Bucky suck in a breath, and then his hand wrapped around yours, holding it tight as he thrust his hips lightly a few times, pumping his cock gently through your fist. You were ready to go again by the time he gently pried your hand away and groaned like he was being gently tortured.

You couldn’t help your pout, opening your eyes to find him gazing at your face.

“I want to take care of you, too,” you complained, and the gentle whine of your tone sounded so small and decidedly submissive, certainly not fitting the badass work persona you’d built. It just suddenly felt so safe to be a bit whiny with him.

Bucky only stepped closer and cradled your face in his hands.

“I’ll let you take care of me later, sweet thing, to your heart’s content. For now, tuck me back in and we can get outta here,” he drawled, Brooklyn accent soothing his tone and lulling you to comply, pacified by his promise to let you take care of him soon.

You did as he said, tucking his hard cock back into his pants and doing up his fly and belt as he watched your face intently, no doubt seeing the way your eyes grew hazy, your breath labored and your face flushing all anew at the way he held you while you handled him. You let your hands linger over his bulge when you were done, dying to take him out again and just do whatever he wanted to make him feel good.

Soon, you told yourself, soon.

“Now, I would like to swing you one last time on that dance floor out there, let everyone see that gorgeous leg through that deadly split in your skirt. And then I want everyone to see you leave on my arm, before I take you back to mine and take care of you properly,” Bucky said, voice even and sure and smile so dashing, you couldn’t help but smile back and nod in enthusiastic agreement.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #dom!bucky barnes #dom!bucky barnes x reader

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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Can we have some prompts for what it's like to hug the tadc cast?

What it's like hugging the TADC cast!

bro i want a patty melt so mf bad ive literally never had one but it looks so yummy idc if its just a burger on texas toast i wanna eat that!!!!!!!!! short post btw!! (i say, as i make it longer than first intended)

CAINES:

very small and holdable. depending on the size difference you can just carry him around like its no big deal... feels just like holding a person since his body is human shaped... might have to move your head since his teeths are very large.... solid 9/10 imo

POMNI:

similar to caine thanks to her shape but i think she would be very squishy. she looks like she would be squishy, dont you think? i think its because of her design and her at the beginning trying to take off her headset shows shes kinda squishy n soft... but maybe thats just the digital worlds physics and everyone is like that... she looks like she would squeak if you squeezed her... 8/10 she gets one point off because sometimes the squeezing can be annoying but she cant help it

RAGATHA:

very soft and plush, said several times that i see her as a literal doll so she feels like one of those plush dolls. shes warm, i think... like sure shes a doll but she looks like she would radiate warmth, cant explain why.. like caine and pomni have normal body heats but ragatha is just a touch warmer.. 10/10, would love to cuddle with her and nap

JAX:

not squishy!! but not... hard... like he has a little give if that makes sense. like, normal average skinny person squish, i think. normal body temperature. oddly smooth which can be a little weird since hes a bunny, so you would expect fur... but no hes just smooth. but not smooth like a shaved person, smooth like a weird rubber. weird. 7/10 imagine it gets hot one day and he just. gets sticky. one time we accidentally left my dogs rubber ball out in the heat outside and it got sticky. sticky jax. sticky jax gets a 4/10

KINGER:

very. hard. now we're getting into the characters who arent that huggable, which makes me so sad because i love kinger sm. he cant really hug back. like sure he can hold you in his hands but thats a little different than being able to wrap his arms around you... hes hard, too, being a chess piece... not very warm.. however his robe does a bit to make him softer and a little warmer so its not too totally terrible as long as youre not like. CLINGING onto him... kinger i love you but youre getting a 6/10

ZOOBLE:

see where kinger has some saving grace with his robe, zooble is just. naked. plus i think they would feel like plastic, with the main body being like. solid hard plastic. their limbs are obviously also plastic. its like holding a giant child's toy... very cold, too, the only heat zooble has is the heat that comes from your own body... 3/10 im sorry zooble

GANGLE:

no body heat, but like at least its not hard plastic... but theres hardly anything there... can hold you back but you cant really feel it, like ghost touches pretty much... since gangle is just ribbons, what more did we expect? 4/10, extra point simply because gangle hugs arent as unpleasant as zoobles

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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hazshit-hotel-hater · 7 days

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Could you talk about the designs Viv makes? I don't see many posts talking about this and I wanted some design tips, I intend to post my own cartoon designs (I just don't know when) and I wanted some tips <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

Hey hey!! Id love to talk about designs!

I actually answered this entire question and then uh…. Tumblr deleted my draft so let me try to redo all this lmao

Vivzie has a problem with bodytypes I’ve noticed. Almost all of her cast is insanely skinny and the only two “plus-size” characters I can think of are Millie and Mimzy. Meanwhile, Angel Dust, Vox, Stolas, & Alastor are a few very skinny characters I can think of off the top of my head.

For the best example, I’m going to be using Vox for now. Here is my Vox design next to his canon appearance

They don’t look too different right? This is still easily identifiable as Vox because his main characteristics are there; stupid little hat, tv head, thats about it.

My design also keeps elements of his suit with the stripes and shoulder pads, though in my design his body is a bit wider and his shoulders + waist make him look more commanding and intimidating while still maintaining a sense of professionalism. As for his canon design, he definitely looks sketchy, but he doesn’t really give me that commanding sense of popularity or authority that I feel an overlord should have, especially one with such a wide range of influence as Vox. His canon design looks top heavy and a little pathetic in that “he was born in a wet cardboard box all alone” way. Don’t get me wrong, a small waist can do wonders for a design, but when your designs start to look like… this

I think you might have a problem.

Now, I know I am nowhere near the best character designer in the world, but I have designed my fair share and I think I have enough experience to flatter myself a little.

This is a very simple design choice to make. Body types are probably some of the most intricate and interesting parts of a person in my opinion, and with a lineup like this where everyone looks more or lest the same from the torso down, it’s kind of a dead and sad looking cast, and not in the intended way.

I’m aware my designs are very detailed and wouldn’t be easy to animate with my style, but it’s very easy to draw extra body types with a style fit for TV.

Gravity Falls is a great example of stylised bodies and also using them to build personality. By looking at these characters you can generally tell what their base personality is probably like right? You can do the same thing to an extent with the Hazbin Cast, but all of their designs get muddled into the other. Can you even tell where half of these people are positioned in this screenshot

It’s so pink and red im going to start seeing green when I look away. There are so many colours, use them!!!! You can still slap a red overlay over it and make it “look like hell” or whatever, but you’re still gonna have more variety.

Here’s my body/fur references for Angel and Husk. They are almost entirely opposite to eachother but you can probably get an idea for how they are based on colour and shape. I recommend studying other TV shows and things like anime or movies to see how body types and colours impact character design, but general things I always think of are, like I’ve said, body type, personality, colour, and silhouette. Silhouette is a bit harder to pin since a character can have a very recognizable silhouette and still not be a good design, but honestly to me as long as you can tell which character is which from silhouette you’re good to go on that front.

- Generally just don’t reuse the same colour palette over and over (heres some of my hazbin colours)

- Give diversity in shapes when you can and when it benefits the design

- Try to show their personality through their clothes and pose

- Don’t be afraid to add little physical or personality details that other people might not notice, a good design should keep you interested in tiny details like that or surprise you later on

- Pay attention to what would and wouldn’t make sense (ex. A character that doesn’t like modern fashion wearing modern fashion)

Im not the best at explaining all of this but I hope you could grasp even just a tiny bit of an idea from this! At the end of the day as long as you’re having fun and not actively harming people with the designs then you should be good to go

#raimble #hazbin hotel #hazbin critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel rework #hazbin hotel rewrite #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin redesign #my art

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xhoneygirlxx · 7 months

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as a plus sized girlie, i just know eddie would love himself a thick partner. (now don't get me wrong he loves every type of body, no matter the shape, size, color, etc.)

18+, minors gtfo

i can see him slapping your ass just to watch the fat ripple with movement. he'd also do this thing where any time your ass was in his view, he'd pounce on you and give it a firm bite. when you'd yelp and ask him wtf he was doing, he'd simply shrug and say it was too good to not eat.

eddie would enjoy the plushness of your cunt, and just because he's a goofball, he'd recite the nicki minaj line "real thick vagina" every time he was going down on you.

he'd show love to your stomach, giving it loving kisses and more often than not using it as a pillow swearing it was the best one in the world.

don't even get me started on crop tops, baby tees, or tank tops. seeing the pudge of your tummy poke out from the shirt would make him salivate like a dog.

if you wear shorts or leggings he's going feral over the outline of your fat pussy, pretty much following you around begging you to just let him see it. once you've had your fun with his torture, you allow him to take them off for his prize for being such a good boy and you don't even chastise him for ripping them, literally tearing them off of your body.

eddie finds you sexy in anything but when you wear lingerie, he swears he's died and you're the angel guiding him to the light. he'll get you on all fours, letting his eyes drink up the heavenly sight in front of you, but then you wiggle your ass and he has no choice but get his cock inside of you unless he wants to cum in his pants.

so yeah, eddie would love himself a plus sized girlie as well as mid sized and skinny girlies <3

*this may or may not be self indulgence for me*

*also may or may not be toying with the idea of a eddie x plus sized fem fic*

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey’s rambles

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lawrites · 1 month

Text

Just Enough (NSFW)

Jonathan Crane x Plus Size Gender Neutral Reader

You've always fantasized about Jon and his Scarecrow persona...well...what if he felt the same?

CW: dead dove, talk about getting dosed with fear toxin, Jon being creepy and scary, bit of non-con if you look at it but nothing explicit.

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

Do you feel a little bit bad that you are attracted to Jonathan while he's in his full scarecrow costume? Well...no...but you probably should, which does make you feel bad.

It's no secret that Jon is a slight man, and his figure, while attractive to you, is not exactly intimidating when dressed in his sweater vests and khakis. But when donning his alter ego? He drapes himself in flowing, dark fabric that hides him, making you see shapes, limbs, even faces where they aren't there. It builds him up, even makes him intimidating.

His fingers are extend into needles which look like claws, to you. It makes you fantasize about how they would feel...tracing along your body...pressing into your skin. And his mask...it's a grim visage with deep, dark buttons for eyes and an eerie smile stitched in blood-colored thread.

All of that together would make most people run, even without the knowledge of who The Scarecrow is. But you? You've found yourself crossing your legs more often than not as he starts getting ready to head out. You usually lounge around, wearing a comfortable set of pajamas and watching him don his terrifying (sexy) garb, trying to babble away about any inane thing so he can't tell how much you want to jump his bones.

Tonight is a bit different. Jonathan doesn't know it, but you have something pretty for him under your usual comfy clothes. He hasn't told you of any plans to go out, so you are hoping that he will return from work, collapse, and let you spoil him for a bit. He does work so hard, and you would love to give him a nice treat. And maybe...you could bring up something you've been wanting to try for a bit.

You return from your daydreaming to your current focus, lazily stirring the chicken stew you have put together and making sure there are no burned bits on the bottom. The slight chill outside is making you feel like you need to take care of the handsome, skinny Professor. He must be freezing.

And with that thought, you hear the jangle of keys being inserted clumsily into the front door. You smile and turn the burner to low heat, giving the stew one last stir and tapping the spoon on the edge before laying it down. You wipe your hands and hurry to the living room just as Jon opens the door.

"Jon! Hi! Welcome back!" You do your best to not immediately run into his arms.

He looks a bit haggard, shaking off the bits of snow from his coat, but he also looks invigorated. His eyes glow with excitement. "Darling!" You blush. "I have had the most wonderful idea for a target for my fear toxin. It must be done tonight but I think-"

You don't catch the rest of his sentence, feeling yourself collapse a bit in defeat. His sentence ends and you manage to get out, "That's great Jon!" Before turning to go back to the kitchen, trying to hide your irrational tears.

It wasn't like he promised to be available tonight, so the only person who let you down tonight is yourself. You shouldn't hype yourself up with plans when you know he has goals that he has to achieve. It's time to start being more realistic, especially with Jon as a partner. He would understand your feelings, but would be more annoyed by them than anything.

As you hear him set down his briefcase and meander around the living room, you let a few tears fall before wiping them away and trying to get yourself in order.

"I-I made chicken stew, Jon! If you want some!! It looked cold out there."

Jon's voice responds, too close and right behind you, "Sounds delicious."

You jump, involuntarily, causing a bit of the hot soup to splash on your hand. A hiss leaves you as the sting registers, reddening the back of your hand.

Jon tuts and turns you around, immediately inspecting your hand gently. He grabs a paper towel and wipes the soup off, holding it up to the light and turning it to and fro. He nods at it, almost to verify that you aren't seriously injured. "I'm sorry, dear, I just wanted to see you a bit afraid." His smile is wolfish. "You know I would never hurt you without your consent first."

He winks, and you can't help the blush that takes over your face. One of his hands comes up to lightly brush your cheek, and it makes you want to swoon a bit. At first, you think maybe he is just trying to comfort you after your injury, but then you realize that he is tracing the tear tracks that must be visible, moving his thumb up and down, his brow furrowing.

"I have to do this, tonight, darling. And I'll be back, don't worry." You can't escape his gaze, and your blush deepens a bit further when you realize that he knows why you are upset in the first place. Of course he does, it's his job to read people.

You nod, still a bit sad that your plans won't work but happy that he at least is acknowledging your feelings. "I understand." His brow stays furrowed, and he opens his mouth like he is about to argue, but you cut him off. "Really! I do. I...I want you to succeed, Jon. Your work is important to you and you are important to me."

He seems to at least be placated by your answer, releasing your cheek and moving to hold both of your hands instead. Silence takes over for a bit, both of you unsure how to change the subject. You start, unsure of what he wants you to do tonight. "Would you like me to stay up? I can wait until you get ba-"

He vehemently shakes his head, cutting you off. "Don't worry, I may be out late. Go to bed at your usual time and get a full night's rest."

He releases your hands from his gentle hold, clapping his own together. "Well! I must have some of this stew and then head out to work. You are right, it was cold out there," he admits with a sheepish grin.

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

Watching Jonathan get ready to go was even more taxing than usual today, knowing that you had lingerie underneath your clothes the whole time. The temptation to tear them off, showing him what he would miss by leaving you here tonight...maybe timing it so he would be in his full scarecrow costume...

It had you fantasizing and looking off in the distance instead of prattling on as usual. Jonathan may have noticed this, as he reached out with one gloved hand, a needle extending to gently press right into the softness under your chin. Even if you weren't paying attention before, you are now. You try not to breathe too heavily, knowing that even a slight prick could have you seeing visions for hours.

"You'll be good and go to bed on time for me? Hmm?" His voice is deeper, lower, when he's in the mask. It comes out whispered, like he wants you to lean in to hear him and pierce yourself on his needle. Your thighs subtly shift together.

You would nod...but that's probably not the best idea. "O-of course, Jon. I'll go to bed on time, for you."

His needle clad finger retracts, and he reaches over to find his cloak, placing it over his shoulders in a sweeping motion. "Good. I'll be back soon."

And with what seems to be a swish of his cloak, a bathing of your vision in darkness, he's gone.

Thank God.

If you weren't going to get any direct action from him tonight, especially after he seemed to be more loving than usual, then you needed to find relief in other ways before bed. Having his hands on you and knowing that it would lead nowhere tonight was torture.

You hum to yourself, stripping off your clothes and looking at what you had picked out in the mirror. A burnt orange babydoll shift, in his colors. The sheer, silky fabric hits just right at the midpoint of your hips, which allows the tiny panties you had on to peek through. So much discomfort, if you're being honest, was worth at least a bit of enjoyment, even if it's just on your part.

Suddenly a chill moves through you, once you are only in your lingerie. Someone's here, your body is telling you. They're in the window. You glance at the window...and see nothing. Shaking your head and trying to convince yourself not to look, (this is how people die in horror movies!), you walk slowly over to the window to check, pulling back the sheer curtains.

You see nothing there. Chuckling, reminding yourself that you are on the 8th floor and the fire escape is so flimsy you would hear someone breathing on it...you walk away. But the nervousness doesn't fade as it should. It sits, uneasy, in the depths of your body.

It works for you, in an odd way. Maybe Jon had a point about the intersection between fear and pleasure...because your nipples had pebbled in the cold air near the window and the chill you experienced from the fear. It makes them sensitive to the silky fabric encasing your chest.

Finalizing your preparations, you pull back the comforters, set down two massive towels, and turn the lights off, leaving only one lamp on your bedside table.

Settling back against the pillows, you reach for a silky bag you keep in your bedside drawer. The toy encased inside is lovingly maintained, batteries replaced and the outside sanitized after each session.

The bottle of lube is opened by your hands, carefully measuring out a perfect portion and running them up and down the main shaft of the toy. Your mind drifts, already thinking about Jonathan. You imagine it's him you are running your hands over and an involuntary sigh of his name leaves your mouth.

The fire escape creaks.

Ending all prep work as your heart drops to your stomach, you freeze and your muscles stiffen. Carefully placing the toy down, you walk slowly over to the window again, feeling your heart beat in your throat.

Step. Beat.

Your hands grab the curtain and yank it back, trying to stare into the inky blackness of a Gotham night. And you, again, see nothing. The howling of the wind outside picks up, and your eyes are drawn to a slightly loose panel of the fire escape as it clanks, metal on metal.

You must be on edge tonight, being alone, you tell yourself. There is no reason to think that anyone would be coming for you. Jonathan must just...be in your head. Maybe he did prick you with some fear toxin earlier...or maybe it's just hard for your brain to focus on anything when he's not near.

Tired of standing by the coldness seeping out of the window and hugging yourself to stay warm, you make your way back to your bed. Your eyes fall on your toy...right.

And suddenly, a wave of warmth takes the place of the coldness. You had finished lubing it up before, so all that was left to do was to prepare yourself.

Laying down right in the middle of your towels, you sigh as a hand traces over your chest. You see thin, clever fingers doing the work in your mind's eye.

Jonathan. You sigh again.

The wind howls, the fire escape creaks, and you ignore it. Your thoughts are consumed with your love, instead.

Running your hands down the sheer fabric encasing your body, hearing his gorgeous voice in your mind, "My colors encasing your form...does that make you mine?"

Your hands grip at the softer flesh of your hips like he would, digging your nails in and gasping. "Yes Jonathan!"

Another creak, but you don't even notice it this time.

Desperately, you reach for the toy, surprisingly keyed up tonight and already ready for it. (You try not to think about Jon's theories any more). Pushing aside the fabric covering you, you tease around with the toy and your own fingers for a bit, moaning and wanting to be filled, soon.

You are so, so desperate, that you don't even notice the window opening. Maybe it was the hum of the toy vibrating...maybe it was the expert way that the perpetrator knew the window. But either way, you don't see a shape moving in the dark.

You gently ease the toy in, letting out a groan of Jon's name. "Jon, please!"

The shape gracefully keeps to the shadows, pausing when your groan reaches its ears. It stops, then, watching as you fill yourself slowly, letting out mumbles of nonsense around your pretty sounds.

You get a feeling that something is watching you, somewhere in the back of your mind. But, as you've gotten that feeling all night, you ignore it, favoring the pleasure coursing through your veins as you manage to work the entire length of the toy into you with a gasp.

Deciding that Jonathan would tease you, you let it still for a second, and then your mind imagines him filling you, asking you what you want around your moans.

"What do you want? You are so desperate, I can't understand you. Use your words, darling."

"Jonathan, please, move!"

And just as you begin to pull the toy out of you, the shape pounces out of the dark.

With expertise, the shape finds your mouth quickly, silencing your scream. The feel of its body surrounds you, a cloak and sharp claws are what you feel against your skin as you kick and struggle.

And then, a singular claw finds its way to the soft underside of your chin. Your mind jumps back to only an hour earlier, when your lover pulled the same move...

You pause, for just a moment. "J-Jon?"

A dark chuckle reaches your ears. "Clever mouse."

Expecting him to move the needle away, you are instead surprised to hear his breathing pick up as he traces it down your body, digging into your flesh just enough to not break it. You can't see his actual eyes in his mask, but you notice how his head angles towards where the toy landed on the towels. His mask snaps right back to where that toy was only moments ago. "I noticed, you know." His voice rumbles out.

You are a bit dazed. Pleasure, fear, pleasure, fear, pleasure...it's left your mind floating, especially since Jon is actually here, now. His needle traces over your nipple and it makes you squeak out in response: "W-what?"

Another chuckle, and suddenly you feel the rough texture of his mask against your cheek as he leans in to whisper. "I noticed, all those times you wanted to fuck me in my Scarecrow costume."

He pulls back, and you can't help your reaction to his voice, clenching around nothing and watching his mask angle to take it in. Hoping you didn't somehow make him uncomfortable, after the initial onslaught of warmth from his words, you try to explain yourself, "Oh, Jon, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

He cuts you off by carefully gripping your chin with his gloved hand so his needles don't pierce it, forcing your mouth to meet his. A deep groan emanates from his throat, making him pull apart from you after he ravaged your mouth. "Dear, do not apologize. I am delighted you find me attractive in this form, for you see..."

He rests his chin on your shoulder, hugging you to him tightly and whispering into your ear, "...you are my perfect test subject for a theory about my toxin."

You balk a bit, "T-test subject?" Trying to get out of his hold, he instead keeps you close, chuckling.

"Please, darling, let me explain. For you, at least, I'll need...informed consent." If you could see his face through his mask, you can tell he would be smirking by the tone of his voice. The needle continues tracing your body, moving to your ass and digging slightly into the soft flesh, making Jonathan pause. "God, I've been thinking about piercing you here for ages, now. Testing how the toxin causes reactions when injected in different areas of your... delectable form."

But the needle keeps moving and he continues his explanation, as well. "You have been paying attention to my lectures about fear and lust, haven't you pet?" You nod, unable to use your voice as his needle is tracing up and down your soft side, paying special attention to your hip. "Good." You shiver as his usual baritone deepens, and Jonathan lets out an exhale of air to show his amusement.

"All of my theories are, so far, theories...at least where my toxin is concerned. But seeing you so eager to...what is the term...jump my bones in my cloak and mask made me consider a new experiment." Your whole body is keyed up thanks to the low sound of his voice and his needle tracing the softness at your belly, picking up the silky fabric with it.

"You see, I need to test my theories, and I need a subject that is not only attracted to me, but that I am attracted to as well." His mask nuzzles into your neck, "And you obviously fit the criteria, my pretty crow." His hips press against you from behind, causing you to moan as you feel his cock hardening already.

Another chuckle can be heard from behind his mask, "And you have already given me wonderful notes to start with, haven't you?" He grinds against your ass, making you whimper and causing his hands to dig deeper into your hips, careful to avoid his needles, "Calling my name while so afraid of what was outside your window. Were you really that desperate for me?"

You nod, "J-Johnathan, please! I've been ready for you all night." He groans, and then he suddenly moves your body so you are facing him. When you try to get closer, he once again presses a singular needle into the softness of your chin, keeping you at bay. He pushes up with it, forcing you to look up at him to avoid being pierced.

His voice comes out of the mask, flustered, "W-we'll keep you in the apartment. I don't need anyone else seeing what is mine." The last word comes out in a growl, his needle moving from your chin to the side of your neck. You obediently keep looking up at him.

His voice struggles with the next sentence, seeming to be affected by your gaze. "T-this will give us the best results, and I-I'll start with a low dose." He gathers himself, more sure, "What do you say, pet?"

Your mind struggles, trying to consider what this truly entails. His fear toxin isn't a joke, it has seriously injured people in the past...and even if it is a low dose, you know you'll be out of your mind, not even yourself for a while.

His mask gazes down at you, unfeeling, unreadable, but you can hear his breathing. He's trying to keep it subtle, but he's gasping for air, already desperate for you and this as much as you are for him. And...as much as Jonathan is terrifying...if he truly thinks you are in danger, you have enough trust in him to stop you and possibly administer an antitoxin. It will hurt him, but he will do it. You just have to trust him.

"Jonathan..." You look unsure. He gently traces the needle up and down your neck, making you shiver. "Pretty crow, I need a concrete answer." Convincing yourself, you reach up to grab his hand.

"Yes. I'll do it. Just...treat me gently."

If you could see behind his mask, you would see his face practically split in two by his grin. "Excellent. And don't worry."

You feel the sting of his needle as it pierces your neck. "I'll give you just enough to make you whimper for me."

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

So yeah. uhhhh lemme know what you think lol

#lawrites #plus size reader #plus size fic #x reader #reader #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x plus size reader #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x plus size reader #batman rogues x reader #batman rogues x plus size reader

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neko-loogi · 6 months

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Heeeyy, I'm back with a new Helluva Boss opinion post thingy

Okay so, the Mammon episode- it was alright I guess? Tbh it didn't strike me as super awesome or anything, it's just kinda there?

Anyway, let's talk about it a little bit!

So I wanted to start off with Mammon himself, I'm gonna be honest I don't hate him but I don't like him either. I'll admit I do actually like his voice, I'm sure y'all might find it annoying but I dunno, I like his accent and the way he talks is kinda funny. His design tho? Eh, it could use some work.

For instance, his eyes are weird, like every time he was on screen my first thought was always: "Wow, he looks like Robin from TTG". I also hate how he's shaped like your typical "fat" character from cartoons. But for some reason they decided to give him skinny arms but a round body. He's weirdly disproportionate, which is disappointing because they definitely could make a better plus sized character design. But oh well, knowing Viv, she wouldn't even try.

I will admit his true demon form is kinda cool, except that I actually thought he was going to be a caterpillar or something but he's a spider? I swear, Viv has some weird design choices.

Moving on, the episode was cluttered as hell. It had way too much stuff in it, which made the episode feel eternal. Not only that but the episode has 4 songs.. FOUR FUCKING SONGS- When will Viv realize that not every HB episode needs a song? Like is this shit an animated series or a fucking musical? Make up your mind Viv-

Anyway, I'm glad this episode focuses on Fizz, but his character did feel a bit off in certain scenes, but aside from that everything else was fine. (I found that scene of Fizz talking to the deaf imp child while using sign language to be very endearing).

Alright, I'mma point out a few other things real quick:

Ozzie's relationship with Fizz is absolutely adorable and I love them so much. However I don't understand why they portray their relationship as a bad thing? Like, fucking Queen Bee is dating Vortex (who's a hellhound, and they are a lower class than imps) and nobody says anything and she's a sin- so why can't Ozzie do the same??

I also happen to noticed that Fizz and Mammon's relationship is similar to Angel Dust and Valentino's- I just hope they don't completely butcher my boy Fizz, because he's the ONLY character I genuinely like from this god awful series.

Edit: I find it outrageous that Fizz apologized to Blitzo in the previous episode for the accident and claims that yes, he was affected by it but he's gotten over it. Yet here, he's super insecure about it and seeks approval from Mammon. It doesn't make sense- I swear it's like the characters are evolving backwards (as in the character development just resets and they act like nothing happened).

I also just wanted to say that this character made me feel super uncomfortable throughout the episode (which I guess is the point, but honestly they didn't need to add him.) Like, was it really necessary to include this Reddit mod, Discord user incel with an obsessive personality to the episode? He doesn't really contribute much other than to probably trigger people who have dealt with some form of harassment like this, and to make Fizz look super helpless so that Blitzo can defend him.

Blitzo didn't contribute anything to the episode, they didn't need to add him either. Like we get it he's the main character but that doesn't mean he has to be in every fucking episode doing absolutely nothing other than saying a bunch of curse words or shooting someone.

In conclusion, I didn't like this episode that much. I was expecting more to be completely honest.

Sorry if this post was a little long- I wanted to write more stuff but I don't want to burden y'all with reading a lot of shit lmao. Anyway, that's all, love ya <3

#anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #helluva boss critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse critical #///#by neko loogi #do not repost #neko loogi rambles 😬#neko loogi rants😔

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uninformedartist · 7 months

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Shaking in my boots 😱

Its mamon!

He's so plus sized and so diverse, Viv sure showed her haters she can design plus sized characters, oh Viv praise to you 🥰.

I'm being fully sarcastic. Wtf is, firstly this design. Bargain bin Christmas tree mf. Its so cluttered, the clashing shapes, the uneeded details, the 4 arms (I'm only seeing now he has 4) and the multiple hues of green. Lets not forget that greed is green/ shares a lot of the same greens that his design has so trust this mf gonna blend into the background.

I can't with this design its like she had two promps: green and clown and of course the usual design elements of Viv (le toothy grin and beadie-eye half moons), and oh the main even he's so plus sized.

Plus sized my ass, he's just a a stretched photoshop edit of her skinny character. Viv has now 3 body types she can draw: slim thick, skinny twig and normal. Mamon's size is normal compared to what Viv usually draws, which is skinny twig/slim thick. My soul the fans really be praising her on how plus sized he is. This shouldn't deserve praise or "she proved you wrong". As an educated character designer that Viv is, designing characters of all shapes and sizes should be normal and uneeded to praise for. It should be second nature to her to draw such body types, this is just normal size not plus size. Helluva is an indi show, she has all the free reign to design whatever she wants, to be diverse as possible (like she toots on her horn multiple times how diverse and full of representation) with no network on her neck saying what she can and can't do. It took this long to get a "plus sized" character out of her and its just a little short man with a normal sized body type compared to her twig skinny body type she draws. And if if I hear the artstyle comment like some fans, kindly stfu if your arstyle can't incorporate multiple body types then its a bad artstyle.

Not gonna praise you for doing the bare minimum as a character designer like your cronies/fans do, in honesty its disappointing and sad it took so long, the mf isnt plus sized and is ugly af.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #my post #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss criticism

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thy-cocoa-doth-grow-cold · 7 months

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If I see one more fic with “Oh Aziraphale is insecure about his body 🥺🥺🥺 He hates his body and needs to be told he’s pretty 🥺🥺🥺” I’m gonna send out an army of raccoons. He’s literally an ANGEL. I guarantee you that he does not give a single shit about how his corporation is shaped. Some people took ONE SCENE and ran with it but I know for a fact that he was only upset because it was Gabriel saying it, nobody appreciates having their manager make fun of them. I’m sorry but I can’t deal with how out of touch people can be with reality, because why can’t we have a single plus sized character who doesn’t fucking hate themselves. He’s so confident in the show, he’s confident in what he wears and never has any qualms about his appearance but noooooo he’s not skinny so he must think he’s ugly, right? It doesn’t matter that his corporation was shaped by the Almighty Herself. I know it’s practically unavoidable but if I see any more amazing plus sized characters being reduced to “Soft squishy insecure marshmallow” I’m going to vomit.

#i hate fatphobia bruh #good omens #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2

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coolestzed · 1 month

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About Adam’s Shape…

Sometimes I feel like the design is to deliberately confuse us. Cuz there are times where he looks large and chubby like this:

And times where he looks thin and skinny like this:

Like, it just changes throughout the few scenes we have with him and it makes it hard to figure out just what he looks like under the robe.

Like, just look here:

Bro is getting squished in both scenes, yet looks fairly less chunky in the second image. This is in the same episode.

Tbh with how inconsistent his shape is, I don’t think we can call any definitive body type as his canon one. Since I’ve been seeing a lot of debate on that. It’s mostly interpretation and personal preference until we actually see him without his robe.

Personally, I don’t think he’s plus sized, considering his lanky arms, skinny neck and sharp facial features. Which you wouldn’t normally see on a character that’s fat and chubby. I think he’s more pear shaped. Like, he has a bit of a gut.

But that’s just what I think. Like I said, we don’t know for sure until we actually see for ourselves and get confirmation.

(I also think that Fat Adam believers that pester people who draw him skinny should knock it off. It’s not confirmed canon so don’t annoy people who draw him that way).

Anyway, just wanted to give my two cents.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #it’d be easier to determine his size if we could SEE UNDER THE DAMN ROBE #(ｰ̀дｰ́)

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orangeypopsicle · 4 months

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Mount Rageon Headcanons

I've been having a rough week, so Mount Rageons have been on my mind. I'm not well versed in science, but I've been thinking of a few concepts about them. Bare with me and click the "read more" button to read it all because this thing is pretty long!

First of all, I'm not sure what kind of animal species they would be. Like, is that just me wondering that? While they're humanoid, I thought it was interesting how their hair and skin were rendered. Their hair doesn't seem to be how hair would be on regular animals, where each strand is enormous and has a similar texture to their skin. I'm wondering if what we're describing as hair, isn't actually hair? Also, their proportions and body structures are interesting. The large head-to-body ratio and the flexibility of their limbs remind me of reptiles or marine life. Like, I feel that a species with a large head, skinny body, and hyper-mobile limbs would have a problem staying upright, especially at a high elevation with all that gravity acting on them.

While we haven't seen any adults, I thought it was really interesting how they're completely physically genderless but have gender aesthetics. On another contradictory note, wouldn't a developmental stage compared to a teenager (especially considering we see a wide range of teenage characters) at least look somewhat close to how an adult would look? If you look at the Mount Rageon characters, you'll notice that they're all universally built the same and even the eyelashes aren't universal in female characters. I'm actually wondering if that's supposed to be a gender indicator at all or if it's a cosmetic choice. I want to believe that they're completely indistinguishable gender-wise and choose what they want because I think that would just be really neat!

While nothing is supporting it in canon, I believe that Mount Rageons may not be native to the region we see in the show. The extreme color variance stood out to me because the official map shown outside of the movie indicates that the plant life in Mount Rageous is either non-existent or dead. Wouldn't the coloring imply the environment they lived in, like how animals in the real world are? The ground in this region is colored with a pink-gray hue, which looks like an intentional choice given that other regions have specific variant colors used. While I may not be ruling out that Mount Rageous may have once had lush plant life and the environment was polluted too much, it's at least established that the phrase "Mount Rageons" specifically refers to the teenage population that has moved up to the higher elevation of the mountain. I personally would like to refer to other age groups in their species as "Rageons" for this reason. They also aren't built like they naturally would survive in a mountainous region. Mount Rageons have very spindly limbs and they all lack body fat. I think that they may compensate for their lack of natural body heat through their thick jumpsuits. While it may be a wacky fashion, it also may be practical as well.

On the subject of body types and Mount Rageons, I'm also thinking about the flashback scene with Velvet and Veneer. Perhaps they eat fat and sugar in larger amounts as part of their regular diet because of a really high metabolism. It might explain why the foods in that scene are so strange looking. If I were to combine the previous idea with this current on here, maybe they're expending large amounts of energy by not being fit to be living on a mountain and are burning calories quickly. If I'm going to pretend that the scenes exist on their own and are not made by people who might default to thin body shapes, it might also explain why we don't see any plus-sized Mount Rageons in the cast.

Here's the million-dollar question: Why are teenagers separated from their parents and made independent so early? While it may be easier to say it's just cultural, I like to think that the large amount of people who live in Mount Rageous combined with how desolate the environment is means that it may also be for survival. When children reach the age where they're not as easy to watch carefully and are more likely to sneak off to potentially get themselves killed, they may be sent off to Mount Rageous because it is safer. Their parents may be giving them money to live on their own until they can grow up to face whatever the hell is towards the bottom of the mountain. To shorten what I'm saying, it's both cultural and for safety. I'm not sure if there will ever be a confirmed reason, but it sure is fun to speculate!

Thanks for reading if you got to this point!

#trolls band together #mount rageous #velvet trolls #veneer trolls

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kaeyx · 6 months

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chubby reader has been alot on my mind a few days…. (is it bc im chubby myself???? who knows)

anyways. i feel like whenever fyodor gets tired from all that working (if he ever does ☠️) he would probably call you in his room and use u as a personal bed, ur js that comfy!!!! 😽 (he still wouldve used u as a personal bed even if u were skinny like him, we stan and love every body shape 🙏)

Nikolai… nikolai would use his ability as a advantage and randomly grope ur thighs, ass or tits, maybe if he is feeling nice he might pinch ur nose or cheeks and then plant a small kiss on it before dissapearing!

Sigma doesnt have alot of time due to his work of line (the casino) but he wouldnt mind you on his lap and lay his head on your shoulder as he hugs ur body bc its warm n soft which makes him feel sleepy (and that is bad cz he has work to do…) so maybe he might order someone a rank lower then him to take care of the casino as he takes a lil nap on ur shoulder<3

-💞 anon (i almost forgot what anon i was woopsy)

They love you no matter the size!! Plus if you're chubby/muscular it's extra pillowy, or if you're skinny you look extra cozy in their clothes or bed

#fyodor.bsd #nikolai.bsd #sigma.bsd #💞 anon

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clusterduck28 · 1 year

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I often hear huntlow fans say that one of the reasons they like that particular ship so much is because, in popular media, it's actually quite rare to see plus-sized girls being framed as attractive or desirible romantic partners for other characters; and that, in fact, 'fat girl + skinny boy' pairings are so rare, they're basically non-existent in popular media! This is, of course, very much fair and valid, it's not hard to imagine how seeing more relationships like this represented on screen goes a long way towards dismantling all sorts of weird long-standing societal attitudes towards beauty, bodies, gender etc etc.

BUT.

Did you know, The Owl House actually has another CRIMINALLY UNDERAPPRECIATED big girl + skinny boy pairing that might potentially be as, if not MORE compelling than huntlow?

Bold claim, I know but don't scroll away yet, just hear me out...

Now THIS here, this is what we in the biz call a Diversity Win!

Look at the size ratio between these 2 lovebirds, easily the biggest one I've seen since the day I first learned about anglerfish mating. BEAUTIFUL, INSPIRING, MAGICAL union between this charmingly disgusting stickman-shaped bug boy and this mysteriously shy small-scale proof-of-concept steampunk evangelion unit prototype girl!

And hey, guess what? They Have CHEMISTRY. What kind of chemistry you may ask? Well... let me tell you about this one particular type of chemical reaction called "nuclear fission". Picture this, a tiny but eager little brown-haired neutron, one of the smallest things measurable with current day scientific equipment, is rapidly approaching a lonely and often-misunderstood atom of Uranium-235. Mesmerised by its complex and hypnotic atomic structure as he gets closer and closer, in the final few pico-seconds before the inevitable high-speed collision the marker-mustached atom finally understands what the phrase "Love at first sight" means. And now, there it is... The Chemistry is Finally Happening. What's it like? Well, to them it felt like the warmest of a lover's embraces as this particular chemical reaction is know to release up to 320 million kilojoules of pure energy, the purest form of energy, in fact, you might've already heard of it, it's called LOVE...

In conclusion: matthrok OTP!!!

#the owl house #huntlow #matthrok

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domtopvarric · 6 months

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Tbh as a fat woman I think the main issue with the discourse surrounding thrifting plus size clothes is that it's lost all nuance. To me personally, the main issue was when skinny girls would show off how "absurdly large" plus size clothes are (which felt dehumanizing), but skinny (or just skinnier) poor and middle class people getting called out for buying and adjusting clothes is insane, and I'd much rather see people thrift and switch things up to better match their taste and body shape than I'd see them do giant fast fashion hauls

Oh I fully forgot that was in my queue and it took me the longest time to parse how this came up, but yes exactly. I remember the one gal especially who did her before and afters for clothing exactly like a weight watchers commercial and it was very fucked, it was correct for her to be criticized for that, but people quickly lost the plot and it became about "taking plus sized resources" (???), like the issue was the purchasing of the clothes themselves and not the fatphobic way she presented them. And now somehow that has further devolved into people being mad about altering vintage clothes in general? Which was what I was reading when I made that post. It wasn't even a large dress she just reworked the skirt. I really don't understand why people are so weird about this

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