#ypu know

like when a character is canonically cute and awkward and nerdy/dorky and a Cinnamon Roll, fan depictions tend to choose that character to be the Token Fat Person in their headcanon (and also usually white) or choose to exaggerate their curves if they have a canon appearance that isn't fat

and when a character is canonically fat, fandom tends to characterise them as shy, sweet, desexualised, cute and dorky, and ignore the parts of the character that are rude, angry, sexual, confident etc

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Sometimes stepping up to Ace was like stepping into another world. His attire, vibrant and stiff, comprised of several layer was a stark contrast to the worn leather and loose, dull cloth of Ace’s. A glance was all it took to see where Ace stood in their world. A glance is all he ever received before everything that made Ace remarkable was dismissed without a chance. But it wasn't the most stark difference, wasn't what made Sabo ache for.

Among his peers, the people of his standing and higher, their lives were so still. It was like walking among statues garbed in the finest and most vibrant cloth to accompany the jeweled decorations. Everyone was stiff and ridged, droning on about things that people like Ace would never think of. That people like Ace were hardly every taught and were never privy to. Even in the large sealed building, it was cold. Even amongst all the color, it was dull. But was Ace everything was different.

Ace was never still nor distant. He didn't speak with his nose in the air or spoke coldly to Sabo. But what struck Sabo most unfamiliar was the touch that came with Ace. The bump of ones shoulder against the others. The way Ace brushed his chin when he teased Sabo about his place in the world. Or the way Ace clapped his back when Sabo teased his.

Sabo was most struck when they had toppled into the grass once and Ace had licked his thumb to wipe dirt from his jaw. His mother sneered in disgust in the back of his mind but something about it had his chest tighten. Straw and grass not uncommonly tangled in those dark strands but Ace took time to piece each piece from Sabo head. That moment had stayed with Sabo well into the night.

Ace was warm and gentle. A likeness to the sun, Sabo had thought a time or two. And he was caring in ways Sabo seldom thinks is possible. Berates himself because he looks for the lies and the deceit in Ace’s affections. Its what Sabo is familiar with, knows how to handle. Praise and affection used to manipulate. He doesn't know to to deal with soft touches. Doesn't know how to react to not having to bend for attention.

“You're a good man” Sabo had told him once. “Far more so than I deserve.” It had hurt the way Ace grabbed his hands. A soft kiss to his knuckles a familiar action to give but breathtaking to receive.