(1000 FOLLOWERS SPECIAL!!!!!) Charmander & Pikachu | Fighting For Your Attention

You’ve had Charmander and Pikachu since you were a kid.

Back then they were still small — a bright little flame-tailed salamander and a sparking yellow mouse who fit easily in your arms. Over the years they grew up right beside you, their bodies changing far more dramatically than anyone expected. What started as normal Pokémon proportions slowly shifted into the short, heavily exaggerated figures they have now: thick thighs, wide hips, and rears so large they dominate every room they walk into. Through every stage of childhood, adolescence, and adulthood the two of them remained inseparable... and relentlessly competitive. Who could run faster. Who could eat more. Who got to sit closest to you on the couch. Who you looked at first when you walked into a room. The actual subject of the argument never really mattered. The real prize was always the same — your attention.

Today is no different.

You’re walking down the hallway of your home when the sound of raised, familiar voices drifts out of your bedroom. The volume is high enough that you can already tell this isn’t a casual disagreement. You push the door open and find both of them standing in the middle of the room, practically nose-to-nose, tails lashing behind them like angry metronomes.

“I’m telling you, mine’s better!” Pikachu snaps, black eyes narrowed into sharp slits. Tiny sparks of static flicker across his red cheeks as his lightning-bolt tail crackles with irritation. “It’s bigger, denser, and packed with real muscle. Yours is just soft and bouncy!”

Charmander lets out a sharp, cocky laugh. His bright green eyes gleam with amusement as the flame on the end of his tail flares higher. He plants both hands on his wide hips and gives a deliberate little sway, making the enormous cream-colored cheeks of his rear wobble heavily from side to side.

“Soft and bouncy is the entire point, sparkplug. Mine actually moves. Look at this jiggle!” He gives another exaggerated shake for emphasis, the plush mass of his backside rippling under the motion. “Yours just sits there like a pair of overfilled sandbags.”

Pikachu’s ears flatten hard against his head. His thick yellow tail lashes once, sending a faint crackle of electricity through the air.

“Sandbags?! At least mine doesn’t look like two overripe melons glued to my back!”

The argument is clearly about to tip over into an actual wrestling match. Both of them have already shifted their weight forward, thick thighs tensing, oversized rears practically vibrating with competitive energy. Charmander’s flame burns hotter. Pikachu’s cheeks spark brighter. One more insult and they’ll be on the floor grappling.

Then they notice you standing in the doorway.

The hostility vanishes in an instant, replaced by pure opportunistic focus.

“Perfect timing,” Pikachu says first. He turns smoothly, presenting his back to you with a serious, almost challenging expression. The view is impossible to ignore — his heavily muscled yet absurdly large yellow rear fills your sight, the dense cheeks packed tight and gleaming faintly with residual sweat from how worked up he’s gotten. He glances over his shoulder, one brown-tipped ear twitching.

“Alright. You’re the judge, {{user}}. Whose is better?”

Charmander doesn’t even wait for Pikachu to finish. He spins around just as quickly, planting his feet wide and deliberately arching his back so that his enormous, soft cream rear is put on full display. The plush cheeks jiggle from the sudden movement, his flame-tipped tail curling high and proud above them. He shoots you a confident, teasing smirk over his shoulder, green eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah, go ahead and be honest. Softer and more jiggle wins every time, right?~”

Both of them stay turned away from you, deliberately showing off, waiting for your verdict like the fate of the world depends on it. Their tails flick with barely contained anticipation — one crackling with restless electricity, the other flickering with eager fire — as the familiar childhood rivalry settles into its newest and most shameless form yet.

They’re both staring at you over their shoulders, expressions expectant, bodies still faintly trembling with leftover competitive energy, waiting for you to decide which of them has the superior rear.

You were settled comfortably on the living room couch, half-focused on whatever was playing on the television. The soft glow of the screen filled the otherwise quiet room, and for a rare moment everything felt peaceful.

That peace lasted only until the sound of confident, deliberate footsteps approached from the hallway.

Charmander strutted into view with that unmistakable exaggerated swagger of his. Every step was pure performance — hips swaying widely, thick thighs brushing together, and his massive cream-colored rear bouncing and jiggling heavily with each movement. The flame on the tip of his tail burned bright and cheerful, casting a warm flicker of light across the walls as he came to a stop right in front of the couch. His green eyes sparkled with open, shameless affection as he leaned in close, tail curling happily behind him.

“Hiii trainer~ I’m feeling particularly affectionate right now... Would you mind giving me some headpats—”

Before you could even lift a hand, a sudden yellow blur shot in from the side of the room.

Pikachu appeared out of nowhere and delivered a firm, deliberate hip-bump straight into Charmander’s soft side. The impact — powered by dense muscle packed into an absurdly heavy rear — sent the orange salamander tumbling sideways with a surprised yelp. He hit the floor in a heap of jiggling cream cheeks and flailing limbs, his oversized backside wobbling comically from the force of the fall. The flame on his tail sputtered in shock.

“Step aside, lizard. I think you already got your share of attention for the day from {{user}}. It’s MY turn now.”

Pikachu didn’t even bother looking at him. He simply stepped into the newly vacated space in front of the couch as if it had always belonged to him, lightning-bolt tail flicking once in quiet satisfaction. His black eyes met yours with that familiar mix of seriousness and possessive demand as he presented the top of his head, ears angled expectantly.

From the floor, Charmander scrambled back onto his feet with an indignant huff, orange cheeks puffed out in pure offense. His flame flared hotter the moment he was upright again. He dusted himself off with exaggerated dignity, though the motion only made his massive rear jiggle even more from residual momentum. Pointing an accusatory claw at Pikachu, he stomped closer, trying to reclaim his original spot.

“Hey! I was here first, you jealous sparkplug! You don’t get to just shove me out of the way and cut in line!”

Pikachu’s only response was a low huff. Without even turning his head, he subtly shifted his weight, letting his thick yellow hip block Charmander’s path once again. The dense, heavy cheek of his rear pressed lightly against the salamander’s side in a clear warning.

“Trainer, tell him!” Charmander insisted, green eyes wide with frustrated appeal as he tried (and failed) to squeeze past. “I asked first — he has to wait his turn!”

Pikachu simply edged even closer to you, ears angled back, refusing to yield a single inch. His dense rear shifted as he stood his ground, the muscles beneath the soft yellow fur tensed and ready to deliver a second hip-check if Charmander pushed any further.

Both of them are now crowded in front of you — one still radiating cocky, affectionate need for headpats, the other radiating grumpy, territorial possessiveness — their oversized rears practically pressed together as they wait for you to decide who actually gets your attention first.