#rigatoni writes

[fratello-rigatoni]

A newly summoned phantom who wants to be obedient for his papa, and a very stuffed copia who needs some affection after a very big meal.

Cut to phantom completely pinned down while copia is cuddled up on top of him, his heavy, full belly pushing heavily against phantom while his thick thighs squeeze against the slim, tiny ghoul

(Inspired by that little drabble you wrote of the two of them since their dynamic is soo underrated :3)

TAP DANCES BECAUSE I FINALLY WROTE SOMETHING WAHHHH

i hope this is okay, my brain is kinda mushy today but i really wanted to keep my word about answering an ask. i may do more later. we shall see. anywayyyyssss enjoi : 3

Phantom was trying his best not to wheeze, not to grunt, not to show that he was absolutely crushed underneath his Papa. He was new and desperately needed to show that he was in this to win this…and this being…Papa's approval.

Not that Copia was hard to please, it seemed. He'd lit up like a Christmas tree when some of the other ghouls (older, closer with him, besties even) showed up with bags of take out and booze towards the end of rehearsal. Phantom knew that Copia was a slut for food, had seen the pictures of him before his Ascension and how the good papal life had treated his waistline since. And it was with barely concealed lust that he watched Copia devour the Chinese food with his own open lust. The other ghouls, like Dewdrop and Cirrus, were all over him, ensuring that his hands were never empty of tasty treats. They were like devoted servants, fiercely protective of their frontman. And Phantom wanted to show that he could be just as devoted.

So when the food was cleared out and rehearsal deemed complete, the band trickling into the common area of the recording studio, with Papa falling back in a cushy couch…Phantom saw his chance. He beelined for Copia, practically pouncing beside him. He was sure his pupils must have been huge, totally blown as he leaned in close to the intoxicated man cradling his swollen belly.

"Papa…," he started, reaching out tentatively. "Can I?"

Copia's ears were bright pink, his cheeks likely the same under his paints. His booze-glazed eyes trailed lazily over Phantom's face, then to his outreached hand.

"I dunno…can you?" he slurred, smiling. After a beat he giggled, then waved his hand. "Yeah, yeah, c'mere…newbie. Ac'shually…."

Before Phantom could move, Copia had pushed him back and rolled over onto his lap, his thick thighs straddling the ghoul as he yelped in surprise. Despite the fullness, despite his size, despite being drunk, Copia had been fairly graceful and quick. His heavy belly, even heavier now and straining against his shirt, squashed Phantom.

So he was trying not to wheeze. Would that be rude? Would Copia be upset if he grunted with the effort it took to even attempt shifting beneath him? It was all heavy warmth and softness from Copia's wide lower belly, but the upper swell was bulging and taut with food. Phantom couldn't reach all the way around him either, so he settled his hands on the generous lovehandles pooching out above Papa's waistband and gave them a squeeze.

Copia's breath was hot and smelled like beer as he panted above the ghoul. "Think I…I think I ate too much," he groaned.

Phantom could feel a hot flush burning in his cheeks as he realized other ghouls were watching and snickering from their seats around the room. It must have been a sight - he was practically sucked into the couch cushions from the weight. He caught Dewdrop's eyes, expecting to see jealousy or animosity burning there, but found he looked rather nostalgic. He'd known the frontman far longer and had been playing with him before he got fat, but surely he must have been in a similar position at some point, being as thin as he was.

Hoping that he wasn't trembling with nerves, Phantom brought his attention back to Copia. His Papa was looking down at him expectantly, wet eyes blinking slowly and stupidly. His body jerked as he hiccuped.

Slowly, Phantom smoothed his hands from Copia's hips to the sides of his belly. He gently pushed his thumbs in, and when Copia whined wantonly he added the rest of his fingers, massaging him through his shirt. There wasn't much give, and Phantom's eyelids fluttered as he really took in just how full Copia was. Humans could eat a lot. He could faintly hear the bubbling of digestion as he continued his ministrations, in between Copia's pathetic keening.

Though they must have been sat there together for several minutes, with Phantom's hands exploring the clothed, wide expanse in front of him, it felt like no time at all had passed before a shadow fell over them. It was Dew, grinning.

"Careful C, you're gonna suffocate him if you're not paying attention."

Copia had been growing heavier, body going more boneless as he relaxed under the massaging hands. He perked up vaguely, muffling a burp and then rolling off to the side with a mumbled apology. Phantom gasped loudly, forgetting that just minutes before he had been trying to conceal his efforts. He quickly wriggled his way to sitting up from where he had been merging with the couch.

"I - I'm fine!"

The other ghouls were laughing. Though not necessarily meant to be mean, it made the newly summoned ghoul glower and shoot them dirty looks. Copia seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep, his head lolled back onto the couch and eyelids closed, if not already dead to the world.

Dew wasn't laughing, but still grinning. He had a water bottle in one hand and held it out to Phantom, who reluctantly took it. What was this, aftercare? After cuddles? Were they really babying him?

Dew leaned in as Phantom was taking a gulp from the bottle. He had a mischievious look in his eyes.

"Doesn't matter much now because he's falling asleep, but usually…he really likes when you make it known just how heavy he is," he whispered. "Just…for next time."

Phantom blinked, mouth still full of water. He swallowed loudly. "For next time?"

"Of course. Didn't you hear him whining? He's a sucker for contrast."

[fratello-rigatoni]

Uhuhuhu if youre still doing the EVIL ask game uhm 🫄 for copia 🥺

-- @fatcopia

HIIII FWIEND sorry im so late. Thnx for hitting me upppp ;3

So i think copias belly at its Biggest would prob be when he is either Dracopia/vampire cardi, oooor in the AU i have in my head where hes like. Worshipped and kept good n huge because if ur Papa/antichrist is fat and pampered, that must mean it is Good and a time of Plenty (plenty of Papa am i rite). In the latter, hes more realistically human ig, just very wide and fat. Dracopia i think he would be on the thinner side but have more of a Capacity. my neighbor just came outside, ugh.

So Dracopia would still be fat. Definitely chubby. And when he drinks he can drink more than a regular human. Classic monster thang. I always like to hc blood as being intoxicating, so hes gonna be hiccuping. and we all love to see an overly full, taut belly wobble with each hiccup UwU

[fratello-rigatoni]

I'm gonna need reader to drool watching their chubby lover dance on stage and then worship them after a good Ritual.

so sorry this is late!! I haven't written fic in a hot second, so I had to get back into the flow : ) This is 635 words, and im awful tempted to write more...maybe a part two is in our future. I feel there needs to be more worshipping happen UwU

enjoi !

Copia loved to dance. Always had, so his skill was long developed and honed. While a very awkward man off stage - tripping and stumbling at the worst moments - he was a sight to see under the stagelights. Swaying and gliding, sidling up to one of his Ghouls. Bending over at the hips, ass out and tantalizing.

His weight gain since his Ascension made him all the hotter, and his dancing drove everyone wild (who wouldn't want more Papa to drool over?). The preference for tight fitting clothes never changed, and it was torturous to watch him flaunting around on stage in that frilly shirt of his, fabric clinging obscenely over the heavy swell of his middle. The vest was doing a brave job of holding him in. You could see the bite of his too tight waistband digging low into plush hips, and when he stomped one leg along to the music his thick thigh wobbled deliciously.

Heat pools low in your lap as you watch him now, eyes following him as he turns and runs backstage between solos, chest heaving as he accepts a bottle of water. Not that he's in the worst shape, but its clear that he gets more winded than he used to.

"Thank you, thank you," he pants to Ashley, giving a little wave as she finishes touching up his hair. He turns and doesn't bother to hide the way he jams his thumbs into his waistband, pulling and giving a readjusting tug. You're practically vibrating at the sight of him struggling with the second skin. He doesn't usually eat before a show, but today he looks about ready to burst a seam.

You cannot wait for this Ritual to finish.

***

It feels like both an instant and an eternity before you're finally alone with him. The Ghouls have scampered off, celebrating. You make a beeline for Papa's dressing room.

"Care mio," he greets, turning from where he was leaning towards his mirror. His hair is still a bit fussed from the Ghouls, and he's awkwardly reaching for the closure of his vest on his back.

"Papa, let me help," you say, crossing the room in record time.

"Eager as always," he quips. ”Thank you.”

"You looked amazing, Papa. You...are so beautiful. Even all trussed up in this."

You peel open the vest, and the way Copia groans in relief sends fire straight to your crotch. The clothing had done what it could to shape him, but his belly was able now to relax where he stood. His shirt was clinging for dear life against the swell, the buttons pinching along the softness.

"Cazzo...." He leans back against the vanity table, breathing deeply.

A fat Papa was a happy Papa, but his pants still look uncomfortable. He whimpers as your hands smooth over his heavy middle, fingertips grazing the buttons before sliding down. The overhang of his belly makes you feel feral, and the way you struggle to unbutton his pants where they're pinched so tightly beneath his gut.

"T-tell me I'm beautiful again," he asks, suddenly shy, ears pink.

"Oh, Papa...you're the most beautiful," you coo.

When you finally manage to separate the button, Copia tips his head back and sighs. Your hands busy themselves with kneading the soft fat, thumbs caressing the marked skin. The pants still dig into his hips, and you pull a whine from him as one hand slips up under the tight shirt while the other moves to fondle the growing bulge further down.

"C, I could tell you how beautiful you are over and over. Or I could show you...with my actions. What would you like?"

There's sweat running down one soft cheek and beaded along his forehead, tears welling in shifty mismatched eyes.

"Both, si?"

"Both is always good."

[fratello-rigatoni]

Copia getting all bloated and drunk with wine or whatever booze he can scrounge up from the ministry kitchens...sobbing pathetically about being the head Poncho when one of his ghouls finds him and gives him soothing belly rubs while he hiccups and burps, his poor gut gurgling. Whether it turns into a pounding with Frater whining against the cool floor of the kitchen or him being hauled back unconscious to his chambers....well,

[fratello-rigatoni]

Hmmm imagine the ghouls putting together a "welcome back Cardi!" party. Theres booze and weed and Lots of food. And, well, poor Frater is still in a wheelchair and got some healing bones and bruises, so there isn't much else to do with him than load him up with everything he can eat and drink. And hes so touched by the ghouls' wanting to pamper him that he ends up eating whatever is presented to him, not wanting them to feel let down.

He'd put on weight in the hospital (the food quality had been abysmal but some kind Siblings of Sin would always bring him extra meals or treats) and was keenly aware of how tight his tshirt was becoming. In between plates of takeout or hits from a bowl, he'd tug the hem down...only for it to ride back up. The ghouls' eager hands made it difficult as well, and he shivered every time a fairly sharp claw swept across the fresh stretchmarks along his lower belly.

By the time its nearly midnight he's been relocated to the couch - besides the broken bones hes now so full of food and booze that all he can do is whimper and hold his swollen belly, not wanting to move an inch. The tshirt has become a second skin. His beloved ghouls coo and purr over him, the ones not finding more snacks to offer taking turns diligently rubbing his taut belly. None of them have commented directly on his new pudge, but the glints in their eyes and the way their rough tongues lap at his belly tells him they approve.

Stuffed to the gills and pliant with pot, his uncomfortable huffs and whimpers turn to moans when Dew's hand slips down past his heavy gut to massage at the hard on hiding in his sweats. With one ghoul getting permission, it doesnt take much for the Others to begin whining for their turn, pressing loving kisses and licks to his overheated skin like overexcited puppies. The taut upper swell of his stuffed belly is massaged in tandem with someone- maybe Cumulus - swirling their tongue over his leaking cockhead, and its a miracle he hasn't cum yet.

Everyone had been so worried for him, and he cant help but tear up and sniffle (in between gasps and groans, one hand grasping at Cirrus's mane while the other is clutching a pillow). When she finally ends the oral parade and he finishes with a choked off sob, he takes the hand of each of them in turn to press soft kisses and thanks. He'd missed his family as much as they had missed him.

[fratello-rigatoni]

If you are still taking prompts... is there any chance of Perpetua worshiping a plus size female reader? Ive been starving out here trying to find anything that appeals to me in that vein and it feels like if its out there, no one is tagging for it...

Heres a short lil blurb, sorry i fell asleep last night sooner than i expected : ) enjoiiii

***

Gasps and grunts were all you managed as Perpetua kissed and nipped along your soft inner thighs, his gloved hands digging into the fat of your hips. You didn't want to be too loud, alert any unwanted attention to Papa's changing room; it was scandalous enough that you snuck in after the Ritual and had managed to evade any staff. How you were managing to stay so quiet despite the thrills of it all was beyond you.

Papa had been ecstatic to find you hiding away, waiting for him. It wasn't your first secret rendezvous with him. Before had been spontaneous, his eyes locking on to you from the stage during Mass. He'd pursued you relentlessly after that, and told you to find your way to him after the show.

So here you were, a leg hiked up over his shoulder as he licked up along your lower belly. He was sweating, hair damp, breath still fast from performing, smelling a bit strongly. His paint had smeared a bit on his way down to his knees and could be found in smudges along your skin.

"Gorgeous," he said, muffled. "Fucking perfect."

His breath felt almost too hot and damp, his large nose bumping against your underwear. His fingers dug in again, pulling at your fat hip and wobbling it with a slow shake. The other hand snaked over your belly and fingered at your deep navel. You couldn't see his eyes from the mask's shadow, but you swore you could feel his gaze lingering on the raised stretchmarks around your belly button.

"I've been sinning, Papa," you breathed, hands holding onto the couch on either side of you.

"Oh yeah? Tell me more."

He tongued at your underwear, breathing heavily through his nose. You whimpered.

"H-hedonism…gluttony…overindulgence…."

"Good." He straightened as much as he could and sucked a bruise into your skin by tilting his head. "You are a perfect example of abundance. Of ecstacy."

Gently lowering your leg, he pushed open your unbuttoned shirt and groaned at the sight of your full breasts settling from gravity, your areolas wide and puffy. Though they weren't the largest breasts, they too had young stretchmarks scattered around, a sign that you had grown all over from your indulgences.

"You'll keep at it for me, won't you?" he said, laying his palms on your upper belly and patting it just enough to create a gentle ripple effect.

You nod, whimpering weakly, and bite your lip as you feel one of his hands slide up your chest and settle at your soft throat, his fingertips prodding the fat beneath your chin. There was still a dark mark there from the last time he'd kissed you.

"That's right, my perfect angel. Sin for Papa." The hand on your belly was moving south, squeezing the fat of your pubic mound. "Your sin is perfection."

[fratello-rigatoni]

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hi im Rig. For rigatoni.

28, he/they trans guy/genderfluid. Queer.

Occasionally i interact with dead dove content, so be aware! The Papas aren't real! and sometimes i enjoi smashing them against each other like freaky ken dolls because They Arent Real!

This is a heavily kink centered blog and it is intertwined with my deep feelings for FAT LIBERATION. It is a central part of my life and hand in hand with kink so. Fatphobes im exploding u with my mind.

Check my tags rigatoni speaks/writes/draws for stuff i say or make. other frequent tags ill edit as we go.

anyways ya hmu i wanna make friends : )

[fratello-rigatoni]

Cardi gaining weight post-promotion thoughts before sleep!!!

Him being oblivious (intentionally or not, who knows) to how ill fitting his favorite comfy clothes have become. If hes not Busy and wearing his I Mean Business suit (also a bit too tight in...places), then hes tugging at the hem of a tshirt that has no hope in hiding the lower bulge of his new belly, or struggling to zip up his tracksuit's hoodie because it was getting difficult to make the ends meet. If he was in the middle of sipping a juice box and approached, he would pause sucking to politely listen to the Sibling or Ghoul, resting the juicebox on the convenient table that was the slope of his belly. And everyone is so sweet and supportive and horny over him, but as hes the head poncho its probably best to let him do his Thing (and hopefully approach the tailor on his own initiative). even if it is increasingly distracting for everyone trying to get work done