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weebsinstash · 12 days

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I know you mentioned that you aren't a big fan of pregnancy AU stuff in Hazbin, but hear me out...

Imagine Yandere Valentino getting his Darling pregnant to have a living bargaining chip to make sure she doesn't even try to leave him

New idea. What if the only people who can procreate in Hell are red string soulmates, or, it's like akin to ABO in the sense that not everyone or every combo of people could create a baby.

I was thinking about a yandere Valentino who has Reader as his red string soulmate whatever and you run away after seeing how truly abusive he is to other people, worrying for your own safety, and you're missing for like a straight year before Valentino finds out where you are, and... he's all but KICKING DOWN the door of your apartment, and he's looking at you like a hungry predator ready to pounce on you, cornering you, and

a baby starts crying from the other room and you're SPRINTING to the noise and Valentino finds you defensively holding a little bundle to your chest, growling snarling baring fangs holding a knife whatever at him, and Valentino thinks you adopted some other man's kid, some little imp bastard or something, and he's furious, he's raising his voice, he's getting closer, he's-

making perfect eye contact with a little tiny baby replica of himself as it turns to look at him with its big red eyes and chubby cheeks and fat arms and. It takes Val a few seconds to process it. The baby looks right at him and is whimpering and gurgling, upset, but doesn't cry. The baby boy sneezes and his antenna flip back and forth. He's got lil hearts in his fur and his teeny antenna are already so fluffy.

'Oh but aren't baby moths technically caterpillars--' shut the fuck up, you're demons and also that would be ugly as fuck. You want to give birth to a 20 armed baby or something. No. We save the truly inhuman babies for the human x monster/alien/whatever prompts. Your baby comes out a mini mothperson and it's fluffy and chubby and fucking adorable and also shut up

Val is just, SMITTEN, the narcissism is turned up to 100, he's rapid cycling emotions, "*GASPING* OUR BABY IS SO FUCKING CUTE, WHAT THE FUCK, I WANT TO HOLD HIM" "So I knocked you up good huh 😏" "*already on the phone in a group call with the other Vees and taking 200 pictures* you should see this thing, he looks just like me, can you even believe that, I can already tell he's gonna be so handsome and successful cuz he's MY son" "aw, amorcito did you think you needed to run away to protect our baby because I have so many enemies? You're such a good mama ❤️❤️❤️"

You spend like MONTHS lovingly protecting and sheltering your child until he's a healthy giggling little chubroll and Val has him for like two days and suddenly your baby has his ears pierced with diamonds in them and Valentino is walking around in his high heels and slutty bodysuits with your son in a papoose cuddled into his chest fur. You're holding your sleeping son while Val is beside you and someone sneezes across the room and the baby stirs and here's Valentino, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, MY SON IS SLEEPING", like, NOT ANYMORE YOU DUMB JACKASS???

'Oh gee why is Valentino suddenly funding and producing more erotic films involving moms and breeding and pregnant people and lactation-' you fucking know why and honestly I think it'd be SO FUNNY if he's like, "oh yeah, don't worry, I want you on birth control too mami. I missed fucking you and I kinda wanna do a lot of that without worrying about another little niño or two. At least not for a while :)"

Valentino on the red carpet being his cunty fashionable self while his baby is in a sling and they're both wearing matching outfits. Your baby boy has a tiny iced-up watch that's worth more than the entire building you were living in before his father found you. Your "husband" is posing half-naked with your baby on the cover of Demon Playboy which he owns, "HELL'S HOTTEST NEW DILF" like I COULD NOT WITH THIS MAN

And obviously he's got new kinks now that you're a mom and he absolutely fucks the hell out of you to the point you would get pregnant again without the birth control 😳 valentino on some real "is this the milk you've been feeding my baby with, let me try some" type stuff where he's milking you dry during his bang sesh and your son has to have formula that night because your tank is EMPTY 💀 YOU'RE A RAISIN LIKE THAT SCENE FROM SCOOBY DOO ZOMBIE ISLAND--

God. I've read horror stories about women getting pregnant again even WHILE being on multiple types of birth control so, then you get knocked up again Because Of Course You Would, You're Taking More Creampies Than A Professional Rodeo Clown, and what does Valentino say? "Fuck it, I wanna keep it! I can't just MURK my baby after it beat the odds, that's so ME!" And now you're having twin girls 💀💀💀 who knows, maybe having some daughters would teach Valentino to actually respect women--

I feel like you would wake up one morning and be genuinely hysterical because your baby is missing and you can't get in contact with Valentino and you're freaking out at the absolute highest level and it turned out to be some dumb shit like Val just took your son along with him for THE ENTIRE DAY and didn't think of mentioning it to you because "but you were needing a break and we were bonding, mami. We were having our guy time. I was leaving for work and he looked at me and he SMILED AT ME. What the fuck was i supposed to do, I couldn't just LEAVE HIM, he wanted his papi"

Of course, all these ideas hinge on the concept of Valentino actually caring for his baby. He could still genuinely use it as a tool against you. You're out running errands and suddenly you're getting a call. It's Valentino. He wants you to come home; you left the baby with Kitty so you could go out for a little while for some 'you time' since you've been trapped at home hiding ever since you ran from him before learning you were pregnant. It's not even about you leaving the baby with a nanny; it's about you not being home when Valentino came to visit you and him being uncomfortable not knowing exactly where you are and exactly what you're doing

Well, you got a little smart with him. You've just spent the last about 11 months living through hell with your pregnancy and hiding; you deserve to get some fresh air and walk out on the town and--- in the middle of you lecturing him you can just hear your baby making baby noises through the phone and Valentino just adopts this... tone in his voice, "amorcito, I came to spend time with you and our little frijolito and you're not heeee~ere. You know I can have trouble concentrating when I've had a few drinks and, earlier i dropped my phone on accident and i thought 'oh, it's good i wasn't holding something important"

You're home within 20 minutes and Valentino is cuddling into you while he puts some garbage on TV and pretends not to notice how you're trembling as you hold your son and send the occasional wary glance his father's way...

#valentino x reader #yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #hh #sinprompts

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wosoamazing · 3 months

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Negative Thoughts & Beach Days

Summary: Based of this request.

Warnings: Eating Disorders, R calling themselves fat, RED-S syndrome.

A/N: This took longer than I expected sorry. I hope you like it, might do a part two where R talks to Leah and Jonas etc. I took forever to come up with the title - don't be surprised if I change it.

“She’s so fat” “She’s ugly” “Literal definition of nepotism, search it up in the dictionary and you would find her, she is so unfit and a bad player, screams nepotism.”

Leah had always told you there are two main rules to being a professional sports person. Number one do not read the comments on any posts about you, and number two if you don’t listen to number one and do read the comments don’t let them get to you. But these three comments weren’t alone, they were three of millions, it had been going on for a month, its hard not to let them get to you, you open social media, and they were plastered all over your screen. You tried to ignore them, block them out of your head, but they always managed to find a way to wiggle in and eventually they were all consuming thoughts.

The girls first noticed an odd change in your eating habits one morning at breakfast, you didn’t stop at your routine stop in front of the cereal instead you continued over to the fruit picking up a fruit salad, you also had decided to have wholemeal bread instead of white bread this morning for your toast, these decisions received a few confused looks from the girls as you sat down, no one knew why, they just thought maybe you wanted to try and be healthier, so no one thought much of it and just shrugged it off.

You were 16, turning 17 in 2 months and had never had your period. Leah said you were lucky, that you didn’t have to deal with it. RED-S syndrome was what every single doctor you ever spoke too yapped on about, along with exercising less, which they all regretted saying the second after, exercising was your job, you couldn’t really stop it, plus it kept you skinny. You didn’t really listen to what anyone said, nor did you care, in your mind not having a period meant that you were skinny enough, you were thin enough, you were fit enough. This was far from the truth but in your distorted reality it was the truth. So, the day you got your first ever period your whole world collapsed, in your reality you were now classed as fat. In reality you weren’t, you were insanely skinny. But you weren’t in reality. You stopped eating snacks, you thrived off snacks or at least that’s what the girls said, but you had stopped eating them, that did concern them, but you were still eating your three full meals a day so no one was too concerned, well except for Alessia, she would always ask “You sure you don’t want some?” in regards to popcorn on movie nights, or “What happened to your snacks?” you knew somewhere deep down that she was concerned and just trying to help but you didn’t take the comments that way, it felt like she was having a go at you, and one day you snaped, “Alessia, why do you even care, it’s not like you’re in charge of me, you’re not my Mum, my Dad, you’re not Leah, you don’t fucking get to constantly nag me about food, you have no fucking idea what is going on. Just leave me alone” she stood there in shock that day and so did you, before you ran up to your room and locked it, she did know what was going on which is why she was trying to say things lightly, however she forgot that you wouldn’t have taken them lightly she had been in your position a few years ago and felt so bad that she forgot what it felt like when someone said something like that, so she stepped back.

You also started to wear obviously baggier clothes after your first period, you loved to wear anything with spaghetti straps that’s coverage stopped at your ribs, Leah referred to your clothes as ‘non-clothes’ saying you may as well just wear your underwear. But now you would always be found in a baggy overside hoodie or shirt and a pair of sweats, to be fair it was winter, however even in winter you would wear your Nike Pros and a cropped hoddie or cropped rugby jumpers, so the girls were confused and they didn’t really understand why you started wearing trackies and hoodies but the one day they had discussed it Alessia told them to just leave it be and she would deal with it. She wasn’t sure how she would deal with it, however the moment arrived on your team trip to Ibiza.

_____

It was the fourth day of your holiday trip with the team and today it was decided that you were all going to the beach, you had managed to suggest other activities, and avoided the beach for the previous three days. The girls were slightly confused as to why you were avoiding the beach as usually you were the one to suggest it and you always jumped at the idea. You loved to wear the skimpiest bikini Leah (or your Mum – depending on whether it was a team or family trip) would let you get away with, lounging on the sand for half of the day getting a good tan before turning into a four-year-old and splashing everyone in the ocean. You even once filled up a bucket of water and tipped it over Katie’s head when she was sleeping on the beach, it was safe to say you regretted that one.

“Come-on, Y/N lets go to the beach.” Alessia said as she pounded on your door, she waited a bit “If you don’t come out in the next minute, I will assume you’re sick and I’ll come in, whether you are dressed or not”.

“I’m still getting ready” you told her.

“How? Just choose the aquamarine bikini set, the side tie and triangle bikini ones, as I’ve told you before it definitely has the least coverage and Leah lets you wear it, and you always wear it, it’s your favourite, every time after I tell you to put it on you thank me, just chuck it on and let’s go” for some reason these words caused a tear to roll down your cheek, as you stared down at the bikini set that was laid out on your bed in front of you, the exact set Alessia said to put on, however there was one problem, it didn’t fit anymore, you tried it on last night and it didn’t fit, you had developed slightly since the last time you wore it and now it would be considered inappropriate to wear, you didn’t see it that way though in your mind you were too fat to fit into your own bikini.

“Less, just go down and meet the girls I’ll be like 5 minutes, I promise,” you said trying to get Alessia off your back, you felt as though you would break any second and you didn’t want Alessia there when you did.

“No, I’m waiting, why aren’t you ready yet though? You’ve had all morning, quite literally. Are you okay?” Alessia said back, she had some idea of what might be happening behind that door, she could feel it in the air, you were going to break, and she promised the girls she would help you and that they didn’t need to worry.

“I just can’t find them, I-I’m fine ” You said whilst your voice broke a little, ‘shit’ you thought to yourself, she will know something is not right and she won’t leave.

“Well, I hope you have pants on because I’m coming in,” she said half-jokingly, half seriously, whilst flinging your door open. “Um… what are these?” She said as she picked up the bikini set off the bed. Tears started streaming down your face as she looked over to you, you were caught. “Hey, what’s up?” She asked in a soft tone, you didn’t reply and slid down the wall, your knees were up near your chest as you hugged your legs, your head placed on your knees, your body started shaking from your sobs.

You heard Alessia’s footsteps, and then the creek of the door, then her footsteps stopped, maybe everyone was right, maybe no one actually liked you, Alessia just saw you start sobbing and left, maybe you were just a burden, maybe no one cared about you, maybe they wanted you gone, maybe …. “Y/N” your thought train was interrupted, Alessia was back, she sat down next to you and pulled you into her lap, at first you resisted but you gave up, she lightly pushed your head into her neck, and immediately you let your body relax against hers, you were still shaking from your crying and Alessia just let you sit there while she held you tightly rubbing your back. “Hey, can you drink some water for me?” Alessia said, her voice laced with concern, it had been at least five minutes, and you hadn’t calmed down, reluctantly you took the water bottle of her and took some small sips. “Thank you, now I think we both know what is going on here, but I would like to hear it from you,” she said, you knew this was coming honestly you expected this conversation weeks ago when you snapped at her but it didn’t mean you were prepared for it at all, you let out a sigh, “I promise I’m here for you, I won’t leave you alone, I’ll be here for you every step of the way, I’ll help you, your like my little sister, I care about you and I want to help, but I need you to tell me what’s up,” she said, a tear rolled down her check she knew the pain you were feeling and wished she could make it magically disappear but she couldn’t.

“I’m f-fat,” you cried out.

“That’s not true, you know that”.

“Yes, it is, I got my period, I don’t fit into my bikini and I-”

“Oh baby girl,” Alessia cuts you off pulling you in tighter, she didn’t need the rest, she had seen it, they girls had seen it, but they had hoped you hadn’t but obviously you had, “I promise you, you are most definitely not fat, getting your period just means that you’re getting healthy, and maturing and every girl grew out of their clothes at one stage, I grew out of multiple bikinis at your age and I still do but that doesn’t mean I’m fat does it? I promise none of us think that your fat, or unfit and I swear on my life that every single girl in this team would do anything for you, we all care about you so much and we all love you so much,”

“Okay, I-I’m sorry” you replied to her, you had slightly calmed down but tears were still streaming down your face.

“For what?” Alessia asked confused, “Being a burden”.

“Baby, you know you’re not a burden, this isn’t your fault, we will get you help okay, I can talk to the girls, to Leah but you will also have to talk to her yourself, I’ll help you, I can come with you to see Jonas, we can make a plan with Leah, and I promise every single girl on the team will also be with you every step of the way okay?”

“Okay, can we stay here for a bit?” You ask.

“Well, I think the girls are getting a little worried, what if we go down to the swimwear store and I buy you some new swimmers, whatever you like and then we can go to the beach, and you don’t have to swim if you don’t want to, I can stay with you if you want, but I think we should at least go down to the beach.” Alessia said as she dragged you up, she grabbed you both towels, hats and she grabbed her sunnies. You followed her down to the swim store and bought a nice set of bathers.

You made your way to the beach, Leah stood up and walked over to you, “Are you okay?” she asked as she gave you a hug, looking at Alessia for an answer as to why your face was puffy and tear stained, “She will be okay, we’ll talk about it later, let’s just enjoy our beach day first” Leah’s brow furrowed but she nodded her head, Leah trusted Alessia, so she decided to leave it until the end of the day. You were nervous for the conversation that was to be had at the end of the day but for now you decided to enjoy your beach day, but it was a bit more relaxed today you sat and talked with the older girls rather than messing about with the younger girls, you even fell asleep while tanning, you woke up to Leah reapplying your sunscreen and as promised Alessia stayed with you all day.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc #woso x reader #woso imagine #awfc x reader #awfc

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mncxbe · 6 months

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Hi, I really like your work, you are very reverent and diligent with each submission. I would also like to ask you to write a story where the reader gained weight and started to feel insecure in society, relationship with her boyfriend ( could it be Chuya, Dazai, Fedor?). Thank you so much. I hope I got the message across. Have a great week!

anon you're so polite omg- I love this idea hhh. Hope you like it♡♡

10:43♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉ū𝒚𝒂, 𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: light angst/ fluff♡

𝑻𝑾: mentions of eating disorders and poor body image

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

this man does not care about your weight. like at all; he thinks you're beautiful either way

that's why he's so surprised when you tell him you're insecure

he hears you out and tries his best to soothe you

from then on he's really supportive and always reassures you that gaining a few pounds doesn't make you less worthy in his eyes

secretely keeps track of how much you eat because he doesn't want you to neglect your diet or develop an eating disorder

"Bella..." he sighed as soon as you were done talking. For the first time since the two of you started dating, Dazai looked hurt, chocolate brown eyes shadowed with sorrow.

His sad expression only worsened your mood. Your breath hitched, words stuck at the back of your throat as you felt the tears pooling at your lashline.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said all that. It's stupid" you muttered, averting your gaze from his but he quickly hooked a finger under your chin, making you face him.

"My love I'm not mad at you for telling me that. I just... wish you'd told me sooner"

Indeed, during the past few weeks Dazai had noticed your unusual behaviour; you weren't that affectionate towards him, always spending hours on end in front of the mirror, checking yourself out, eating less. At first, Dazai assumed that your appetite reduced because of the high temperatures during summer; after all, he himself ate less during those months, but when you refused to shower or sleep with him he knew something was wrong.

So he sat you down on the couch and asked you what it was all about. You hesitantly told him about how you've started feeling self conscious about your body, how you've gained weight and struggled to lose it, to be the pretty for him.

As you spoke, you noticed Dazai's expression slowly darken. He couldn't comprehend what you were saying. You, ugly? You, his sweet girl, not feeling worthy of his love just because you gained a few pounds? You, starving yourself every day because you thought he'd rather have you not eating than being chubby?

Despite how much your words affected him, this wasn't about him; so he wiped every trace of sadness from his expression and smiled.

"I wish you'd told me sooner. I could've helped you, you know?" he continued

"But how? Really Dazai this isn't your fault. You can't help me with this" you sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand; which caused a mellow laughter to roll past your boyfriend's lips.

His hand slid up your cheek, thumb lightly tracing over your cheekbone as he held your gaze.

"I know bella, but I could've reminded you that to me you're the most beautiful woman. If you wanna get back in shape that's alright, but don't put too much pressure on yourself, ok?"

You gave a weak nod and his smile widened. Kissing your tears away, his arms snaked around your frame, pulling you flush against him. Your head came to rest against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful state.

"Thank you Osamu. I think really needed you to say that" you eventually spoke up and he chuckled, gently threading his fingers through your hair.

"Anytime bella, Anytime"

𝑪𝒉ū𝒚𝒂

just like his partner in crime, Chuya is also surprised when you confess you're insecure about your weight

he starts rambling on about how today's society pushes unrelalistic beauty standars on women and all that

threatens to "deal with" whoever calls you fat or makes you feel self conscious about your weight

but after he calms down a bit he reminds you that you're gorgeous either way

like hell, he even likes you more like this honestly. he adores your curves

It's been around half an hour since your boyfriend started his diatribe and he showed no sign of stopping. What started off as a simple conversation- you telling him that you've developed an insecurity abour weight- ended up with him ranting and raving about beauty standards and how low society has become.

"Seriously now, it's fucked up" he decalred as he downed the last sips of wine; red liquid tinting his lips crimson. "I mean, really. You're absolutely stunning as you are. You don't need to look like those models in magazines."

"I don't want that Chuu I just..." you stammered, fumbling for words.

"I know sweetie. You wanna lose a few pounds and if you really want that I'll support you. After all, it's kinda my fault you gained weight, right?" he asked with a chuckle "Considering all the dinners I took you to..."

His comment lightened the mood, a little smile creeping on your face. "You know it's not your fault honey, really. I just need to be more careful with what I eat in general"

Chuuya sighed, placing the empty glass on a table nearby. He took your hand in his, fingers gently intertwining with yours. "Look sweetie, if you wanna lose weight it's ok. But please know you don't need to do this to be beautiful, because you already are. You're my pretty girl"

A gentle smile rose to his lips as he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead. "And if anyone else tells you that you're not I'll personally teach them a lesson. You can count on me sugar."

His tender words managed to soothe your soul a bit so you nodded, returning the smile.

"You know Chuu, you don't have to go that far"

"I'll go as far as you want me to baby"

For a brief moment, his cloudy gaze slid down your body, taking in your frame; sparkling. His arm snaked around the small of your back, pulling you closer as his wine tinged lips found the crook of your neck, tracing idle kisses along your skin. You gasped lightly at the sudden closeness, causing your boyfriend to chuckle.

"Now lemme show you exactly how much I adore you, sweetheart"

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓

he's actually the one who brings up the subject of your weight

he notices that you've been more reserved lately, that you haven't eaten that much so he asks you to talk about it

and when you tell him you're insecure about the weight you gained he thinks it's utterly ridiculous

naturally, he doesn't voice his thoughts, not wanting to make you feel worse than you do already

instead, he takes your hand in his and kisses it gently and reassures you that to him you'll always be the most beautiful woman. so you needn't worry about gaining weight

The cup of steaming tea stood untouched on the nightstand, lavender steam raising from its surface. Beside you on the silky sheets, your partner sighed.

"So... myshka. Are you going to tell me what's going on or do you plan on keeping it to yourself?"

You shrugged, still not facing him. "What do you mean? Everything is alright my dear"

Your voice feigned nonchalance but Fyodor caught the faint trace of worry; he shifted closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Come on now, don't be difficult. I know you and I can tell when something's wrong, so please talk to me" his breath fanned over the shell of your ear, comforting, as his hand traced over your hip.

He could feel your body tense under his touch and he reluctantly pulled his hand away. "Please myshka"

He sounded defeated, sadness lacing his voice. Guilt started seeping into your soul and you finally turned around to face him.

"Look, it's nothing just... one of my colleagues at work pointed out that I got a bit fat and it's been on my mind"

A faint chuckle rolled past your boyfriend's lips upon hearing your words. Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, he pulled you closer to his frame.

"Oh you silly girl" he smiled, fingers gently lacing in your hair "You really got upset over something like that?"

A faint blush tinted your cheeks and you hid your face against his chest. "Don't laugh at me please. I know it's silly but... she was right, you know?

"It's not silly my dear. I'm just surprised it got to you. And what if you gained a bit of weight? You're just as beautiful as you've always been"

"You don't have to say that just for my sake"

"But I'm not" he chuckled "I say it because it's true. Now don't worry your pretty head over it." He used a finger to gently raise your chin, making you face him "Just sleep for now"

Peppering your face with kisses, he squeezed your waist tighter.

His saccharine affections managed to lull you into a deep slumber; Fyodor always had this effect on you, gently coaxing all the bad feelings out of you as if scooping them with a spoon and tossing them in the deep blue sea to be drowned forever.

"Thank you dear" you muttered, lips curling into a mellow smile. "I love you"

"I love you too, myshka" he sighed, kissing you once again before closing his eyes.

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qtboni · 10 months

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helloo boniiii (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) i hope ur doing okay todayyyy i saw that you hve ur reqs open and i have an idea!

the way chubby!reader is insecure of how she looks and Simon notices it and comforts her? bye sorry im like so bad at explaining but what would Simon do?

HELLO, BABI ! omg u got me there. im one of those peeps who gets so insecure easily 😔 and really, i want a husband like simon who can comfort me in bad times 😭 thank you for requesting this !!

╰﹒ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 !

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Chubby!Reader

OVERVIEW: Simon reassures your insecurities with loving words, and you are overwhelmed with emotions, as he makes you realize the beauty in yourself that you can't see.

C/W: Hurt/comfort! body image issues, insecurities, mentions of body dysmorphia, intimate partner relationship (emotional support), reader expressing emotions and processing trauma, reader struggles with feelings of self-worth.

Simon's car doors shut with a loud thud, echoing through the garage and signaling his departure. A small sense of relief washed over you, knowing that you would have the whole day to yourself.

No more needing to pretend to be okay when you weren't. You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned towards the mirror. As you gazed into your reflection, the harsh lights amplified every imperfection.

'I hate how I look,' you thought to yourself as you gazed into the mirror. Every day, you spent too long in the restroom, staring at your reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong with yourself.

Your shoulders were too wide, tummy too fat, and your cheeks were getting fuller by the day. It also doesn't help that your legs look so big on you and the way your thighs would touch together quite so much. You felt gross and ugly, and it seemed like nothing you did could make a difference.

You sighed as you cupped your cheeks, pretending to pull them behind your face. You longed to be slim and thin, or at the very least, pretty. But no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you were doomed to be the ugly duckling for the rest of your life.

"Why did I let myself get this way?" you wondered.

Tears started to fall from your eyes as your self-pity reached new heights. You didn't understand why everyone else seemed to have it all figured out, while you were stuck here, hating yourself more and more each day.

You wondered if you would ever be able to accept yourself for who you are, or if you would forever be doomed to feel inferior to everyone around you. It was a painful feeling, and one that you struggled with every single day.

Your eyes slowly shifted towards the mirror in the restroom again, and you let out a heavy sigh. Without even really thinking, you started to pinch and pull at your skin. Your fingers zeroed in on your thighs and you frowned, unable to help but focus on the parts of your body that you didn't like.

Your hand then moved to your midsection, and you stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling defeated. You wanted to look different, you wanted to look like the pretty girls in the magazines and on social media.

You wanted to be beautiful.

Tears started forming in your eyes again, and you brushed them away before your sobs could come after. You didn't want anyone to see you like this - didn't want Simon to see. You didn't want him to know how much you hated yourself. But it was a constant struggle, and one that you fought every single day.

You pinched the fat on your stomach, pulling it from side to side and watching as it jiggled.

"Why can't I just look normal?" you asked yourself, your voice cracking.

You moved on to your thighs, pinching the flesh that had been collecting there over the past few months.

"I look gross," you said to yourself, voice barely above a whisper. "I hate.. my body."

Tears started to pool in your eyes as you began to pull at your cheeks and the edges of your mouth, trying to pull them back to make yourself look thinner.

"I just can't stand looking like this," you said to yourself again and again, your voice catching in your throat.

But no matter how much you pinched and pulled, you couldn't make yourself look the way you wanted. The image in the mirror still looked like you – tired, fat, and flawed. You turned away from the mirror, feeling defeated and alone.

You wanted so badly to be able to pull the fat away and make your face look the way you wanted. In your mind's eye, you imagined how much better you would look if you could just lose a few pounds, if your stomach wasn't so rounded, if your thighs weren't so thick.

But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't seem to make a single inch of difference. The cycle of self-doubt and self-loathing was never-ending, and it seemed like you were doomed to remain trapped in your own head, unable to break free.

But then you looked down at the sink, and saw your reflection in the water, distorted and warped. You realized that in trying to fix your flaws, you had only made them worse. Your self-imposed torture was only making you hate yourself more.

It seemed like an eternity before you calmed down, your breathing slowing to a normal pace once again. However, you were still on the brink of tears.

What if Simon saw you like this? Would he still love you?

But you knew that Simon was more than just a pretty face. He was kind and gentle, and he accepted you for who you were, imperfections and all. As you stood in front of the mirror, you then stared at your reflection with a mix of sadness and frustration.

Your heart sank at the sound of a knock, and you quickly dried your tears. Then, your heart raced as your tried to compose yourself. You knew it was Simon – your husband, and the one person who understood you the most. You guys had been through a lot together, and you knew you could count on him to make everything better.

"I'm coming!" you called out, your voice shaky. You took a deep breath and smoothed down your clothes before making your way to the door.

As you opened it slowly, you saw Simon standing there, a sympathetic look on his face.

"Hey," Simon said softly, his voice full of compassion. He walked in and gave you a hug, as if he knew exactly what you needed. You hugged him back, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You knew that Simon would always be there for you, no matter what.

"Hi," You let out a deep sigh and rested your head on his shoulder. "You're back early?"

Simon's warm embrace was exactly what you needed. You felt your body loosen up and your heart start to calm down as you let out another slow, deep breath.

You felt him nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah, my plans got canceled," he said softly, rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You leaned into his embrace, humming a reply, feeling a sense of comfort. You needed this, you thought to yourself. You needed someone to remind you that you weren't alone, and that there were people in your life who cared about you – people who loved you just the way you are.

Despite your best efforts to hide your feelings, it was obvious that something was wrong. Simon squeezed your shoulder gently, as if he could sense what you were thinking. He knew that you were going through a tough time, but he also knew that you needed someone to talk to – someone who would listen and understand without judgment.

You took another breath, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. You were grateful for Simon. Grateful that he was in your life, and that he was there for you when you needed him the most.

"Is something wrong?" Simon asked, his tone soft and gentle.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. You didn't want to appear weak or needy, but you also didn't know how to hide your emotions from Simon.

"Love?"

Finally, you replied, "I'm just having a bad day. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"But.. I am worried," Simon said, his voice filled with concern. He pulled away from the hug to look at you. "You know you can tell me anything."

"I.." You sighed, feeling the weight of your insecurity and self-hatred bearing down on you. "I don't know, Simon. I just feel like I'm not good enough. Like I don't measure up."

"What do you mean?" he asked, the confusion on his face evident.

You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. "I, um, hate the way I look, I guess," you replied, trying to convey the depth of your dislike for yourself without stating it outright. You didn't want to burden him with the full extent of your self-loathing.

You watched as Simon's expression changed, going from confusion to concern. You sighed, knowing you had to be careful with your words. "It's just... I hate my body," you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Simon's eyes widened slightly, and you could tell he was beginning to understand.

"Oh, baby," he said softly. "You're beautiful, inside and out. I know it's hard, but try not to focus so much on how you look. There's so much more to you than that."

Simon leaned closer to you, his hand reaching out to hold your waist and the other at your chin. You looked up at Simon, grateful for his understanding and compassion.

"I know, but it's just so hard sometimes," you replied, your voice breaking again.

Simon pulled you into a hug, holding you close. "I know, love. But you're not alone. I'm here for you. You're not defined by your appearance. You're a kind, caring person, with so much to offer the world. Why'd you think I chose to marry you?"

You clung to Simon for a moment, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the love he held for you.

"My love," he continued, brushing a stray hair from your face to tuck in your ear. "You are more than enough. You are an amazing person, inside and out. I'm not just saying that. It's the truth. Understand, baby? The truth."

"I ... I can't do this," you choked as your sobs echoed the bathroom. It was all too much. It's as if you don't deserve all of his compliments to your body.

Simon took you into his arms, holding you close and rubbing your back soothingly. "Tell me, baby," he asked, his voice full of concern. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You took a deep breath and hesitantly told him everything – about your insecurities, about how you never felt good enough, about how you hated how you looked like.

You leaned into Simon's embrace, seeking the warmth and comfort of his presence surrounding you. You close your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts and put them into words.

"It's just... I can't stop comparing myself to other people," you said finally, voice low and strained. "And every time I look at myself in the mirror, I just see all the things that are wrong with me. I can't seem to love myself, no matter how hard I try."

Simon squeezed your back, listening to you attentively.

"I know you mean well, Simon, but it's just so hard sometimes," you said, your voice still low and emotional. "I feel like everyone's always staring at me and judging me, especially when I wear something that shows off my body."

Simon's hand stroked your hair, trying to soothe your frazzled nerves. "You're beautiful, baby. And no one has the right to make you feel otherwise." He paused, his voice full of quiet intensity. "If anyone says anything to you, I'll deal with them, I promise."

Despite feeling down, you find yourself chuckling with tears in your eyes. His jokes were just so random and out of place, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Simon's voice was gentle and comforting as he pulled you closer to the hug, swaying your bodies in a slow, rhythmic motion.

"Tell me, pretty baby," he whispered, his eyes locked onto yours. "What's eating away at you?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage before you answered. "Well, it's my cheeks firstly," you said quietly, voice shaking slightly. "They're too huge.."

Simon's arms tightened around you, his voice filled with compassion. He leaned away from the hug and cupped your cheeks together. "Huge? Really, baby?" he asked.

"Yes, really..." You leaned into his embrace again, feeling the warmth of Simon and the love he held for you.

"Pretty baby," He said, cupping your cheeks again together. "I love these chubby cheeks you have. It makes you look like a hamster and god, you look so cute with them, don't you know that?"

"But everyone else has a perfect appearance," you said, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'll never be able to measure up."

Simon's eyes closed for a moment, as if he were searching for the right words to say. "You don't have to compare yourself to anyone else," he said finally, his voice fierce. "You're perfect just the way you are, my love. And I'll always be here to remind you of that."

Simon then kissed both of your cheeks affectionately and you feel tears welling up in your eyes again. He asks, "Do you have any more?"

You sighed. "What about my hips and thighs?" You continued, voice shaky with insecurity. "They're too big, too curvy. I'll never be able to wear the things I want to wear."

Simon's face softened even more as he listened to your words, his eyes full of understanding.

"Sweet baby," He coos at you and carefully places both of his hands onto your waist. "Your hips and thighs are a part of you, and they're beautiful. Nobody has the right to tell you otherwise. Your curves are beautiful and I love how it fits well in my hands when I hold them to touch you."

Your tears wouldn't stop running down.

"They're my love handles from you, my love," He added and it had struck a chord in your heart. You felt a weight lifted off your shoulders. His words had been like a balm to your soul, and you leaned into his embrace more, feeling a sense of peace and comfort wash over you.

Your tears continued to fall, but they were no longer those of sadness and insecurity. They were tears of gratitude, for having found someone who truly valued and loved you for who you are – curves and all.

You looked up at Simon, your eyes shimmering with a mix of joy and gratitude. "Thank you, Si’," you whispered, sniffing as you do so.

Simon stroked your cheek gently, his eyes full of love and affection. "You're welcome, baby. Fuck, I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

Simon's words hit you like a ton of bricks, lifting a weight you didn't even realize was there off of your shoulders.

"I love you too, Si'." You replied and rested your head on his shoulder, softly breathing in your choked sobs.

"I just want to love myself like how you love me." You cried into his embrace, all of the pain and insecurity you'd carried with you for so long finally coming to a head.

"I believe in you, love," Simon replied, his voice filled with conviction. "You're strong and capable and beautiful, inside and out. You don't need anyone else's approval to be those things. And I promise, I'll always be here to remind you of who you truly are."

You felt his arms tighten around you, his embrace warming you from the inside out. His words of encouragement filled you with a newfound sense of confidence, and you felt a sense of hope rising within you.

As Simon's words registered with you, you felt the weight of the tears rolling down your cheeks like an onslaught. You had been carrying the burden of your insecurities for so long, and the idea of someone else understanding what you were going through, and even accepting you for who you are, made you feel like maybe there was still hope.

Simon's embrace grew even tighter as he held you, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. You could feel the comfort and warmth exuding from his body, and it made you feel like you were at home.

"Thank you," you said, nuzzling into his neck further. "I don't know what I would do without you, Si'"

"You'll never have to find out," Simon replied, his voice full of determination. "I'll be here for you, always. You're not alone, love. We'll face your insecurities together."

With those words and a kiss to your shoulder, you felt a sense of peace and acceptance wash over yourself. You knew that, with Simon on your side, you could get through anything, even your own perceived flaws and imperfections.

You leaned into his embrace more, feeling safe and loved for the first time in what felt like forever.

A/N: what the fuck. this made me cry again holy shit this rlly hit a nerve inside. what have u done to me anon !! jk i love this <//3

and to anyone who related to this, if you're feeling insecure about your body and struggling with body image issues, it's important to remember that you are so much more than your appearance. Everyone has their own unique features and qualities that make them special and valuable. Try to focus on your positive traits, both inside and out :) Surround yourself with supportive people who see you for who you truly are and appreciate you for all that you are. Remember that it's okay to have days where you don't feel your best, but try to be gentle with yourself and give yourself time to heal and grow <//3

Remember that you are not alone, and there are people who care about you and can help you through this difficult time !! It might be helpful to seek professional help or support groups if you feel like you're struggling. Ultimately, remember that your worth as a person is not tied to your appearance or weight. You are so much more than your exterior and deserve love and kindness no matter what. <//3

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lilcowzia · 2 months

Note

In what type of feedism does thinness have relevance? Genuine question, I’ve never come across that before (to my knowledge at least)

oh im sure you have :o lots of ppl into feedism tend to focus on the idea of thin vs fat, or desiring a thin partner, or fattening a thin partner. its just not my thing, but it is very common, to the point where it can feel a bit much when its something youre not interested in. i know there are definitely feeders and FAs who feel undesirable because of how thinness is still, even in feedism/fat fetishism, put on a pedestal. theres also this thing that happens where a number of feedist posts that utilize the dynamic of "hot thin person" and "ugly fatty", "nobody would expect someone thin and hot like me to want a fat person, etc etc". im not knocking the way people engage in their fetish and degradation, ofc, it just always reads weird to me since fat ppl are objectively really hot. its just one of those things yanno! all that to say, in my version of feedism, thinness is not relevant at all, and im very happy about that and i think its so fun and hhhhuuuhhdhhdjhhhhh 🤤

#ask

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akystaracer22 · 2 months

Text

Distrust Fall:

A leap of faith gone wrong, an eternal promise kept eternally. No matter how long it has been some things never truly change.

Notes

How to fail a trust fall: Step one

Vaggie's relationship with Adam is very complicated, but at the moment there is a lot of animosity and it shows.

Adam is of the opinion that Sorry doesn’t mean jack shit if you make the mistake again, so he just doesn’t apologise because he thinks he’ll just fuck up again so there’s no point.

The hotel needs a licensed therapist at this point dear lord.

Alastor still isn’t over the whole “Radio is fucking dead” thing.

If there is one thing that Adam knows off by heart, it’s the names of animals scientific or otherwise. That was the guys job once upon a time and assuming he doesn’t know that stuff is the true quickest way to piss him off. He’s also really good with animals which pisses off Anthony because Fat Nuggets *likes* Adam and it drives the sinner up a wall.

Alastor and Lucifer are on the ground. Angel, Husk, Charlie, Vaggie, and Adam are on the roof.

Alastor was going to let him get a cm from the ground before catching him dw.

Lucifer used to be friends with Adam in the garden because I live for that sweet sweet friends to enemies tragedy.

Adam really does not like people staring at his face, it’s a mild form of scopophobia caused by his time in heaven with people always giving him shit for how he looked, particularly his facial features (Yes I drew on everyone calling him ugly and average on twitter and shit). He used the mask to get around it, that way people couldn’t actually see what he looked like.

This was originally 1260 but then I got an idea that blew this out by 500 words lol.

The graveyard with be elaborated on in a future connected one shot.

This is officially a fully fledged AU

Regarding Adam's claws, they're gold to combat the greyness of his palette, but also as a nod to Midas, the arrogant king who's touched turned everything to gold. Angelic blood is also gold so if you want you can interpret it as having blood on his hands.

Fingerless gloves because I thing they're neat.

I based Lucifer's wings off of duck wings!

Also Lucifer's angelic appearance was based on space. I heard Sera call Charlie "Daughter of the Morning Star" and I went feral.

He has a full shifting night sky in his wings, clothes, and hat.

Angels have white pupils now I don't make the rules.

References saved my life.

Word count: 1725

(Comic and fic under the cut! Click for better quality)

@irregular-child

Adam leaned away from the edge as the wind drifted through his wings, keenly aware of the fact that his wings wouldn’t break his fall and he did not in fact trust jack shit in hell to break it except the ground.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“I’m with princess perfect this is a fucking death sentence,” Adam agreed, a little reluctantly because it was still the princess of hell, “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Vaggie smirked, because of course she did because she was trying to kill him, he wasn’t that dense, and just shrugged, “I mean, worked for me didn’t it?”

“That wasn’t even a fucking trust fall that was to get you to fucking fly and you know it! Fucking bitch,” The first man scowled and tried to step away from the edge, the crack whore of an arachnid immediately shoving him back up, “Would you fuck off?!”

“Would you stop being a dick?”

“Would you stop sucking them?”

The white jumping spider stared at him for a long moment and Vaggie stepped away from him for once, great! Cool! One person was leaving him alone and soon a second one will!

Great! About fucking time they got the message-

-------]

Lucifer paced nervously around Dazzle’s statue; this was a terrible idea. Having Adam go through a trust fall this early was going to end in disaster one way or another.

The main issue being nobody liked Adam and wouldn’t care if he fell. Hell, Charlies girlfriend has already tried to kill Adam off for good multiple times since he got here!

This was going to be a mess; Alastor was supposed to be catching Adam but he was just standing there looking completely unprepared and-

“Are you going to get ready or not.” Lucifer snapped at the radio demon, wings flicking out behind him in agitation.

“Oh, I have no intention of catching him.”

Lucifer froze, his tail stilling before lashing behind him as he turned on the deer-eared sinner, “What.”

“You heard me.”

“Oh, I heard you alright, and I think you should try that again.”

“And why are you getting so worked up, hm?” The sinner hummed, sneering down at the king, “Last I checked, the first man was your enemy after he tried to kill your own daughter.”

“I-” Lucifer paused, then scowled because Alastor was right. Why was he getting so worked up over this. This was Adam they were talking about. Adam who was crass and rude and cold to everyone. Adam, who would rather sit in his room all day than even look at any of them. Adam who was…

“…Luci, do they all hate me?”

…

“I can see why they left me for you.”

…

“It is good to see you again my friend! Come, much has changed since your last visit!”

… Adam who was so much more than who he was now. Who was probably the only person left in hell that remembered Eden.

Damnit.

“That’s none of your business you son of a bitch,” The fallen angel snapped at the cannibal, eliciting nothing more than a growing grin from the bastard.

Not a day went by in hell where Lucifer wished that this wasn’t his circus and that the sinners weren’t his monkeys.

Someone screamed above him.

The seraphim whipped his head up, eyes widening as he registered Adam twisting the air as he was shoved off the roof by Angel Dust.

Fear struck his heart like an exorcists blade when the first man tried to use his wings to glide, only for a single wing beat to send him into a spiral hurtling towards the ground.

He caught Adams eye for a single moment before it was obscured by his good wing, the man was terrified. He didn’t know sinners reformed after death and despite it all. Lucifer would never wish someone to experience falling from their death after quite literally falling from heaven.

Not even on Adam.

Something in his heart spurred the king into action, kicking off the ground as his wings snapped open to catch the air. A single beat of his wings and he was already well off the ground.

Lucifer reached a hand up for Adam as the fallen angel reached out to him in kind, panic written across both their faces at the idea of a horrible accident.

Lucifer’s wings moved the air one more time and-

“And… you will catch me?”

Lucifer laughed softly, a gentle chiming sound from where he stood behind Gods first man. He was trying to show him a game Lucifer and his kin would play from time to time amongst the spires of heaven.

The game was simple, one angel was to stand up high with their wings folded and fall. Then the other angel was to catch them. It was supposed to build trust, not to mention it was a delight in and of itself.

Standing amongst the grasses of Eden, Lucifer saw no reason not to share this game with Adam. He’s already grown fond of the way that Gods creation would go out of his way to show the angel what he’d been up to since his last visit.

“Be not afraid my friend!” Lucifer’s wings spread quietly to punctuate his point, divine magic threading his words, The Voice ensuring that the first man would hear and believe him.

“No matter how far you fall, I shall always be there to catch you.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms securely around the fallen angel as his wings curled around wing and man alike, bracing himself as the added weight as they both fell together.

It’s funny, it reminded him of when Adam first fell, a fiery ball that could have almost been mistaken as a shooting star had Lucifer not known better.

They hid the ground with a slam and the fallen seraphim had to bite back a shriek as his wings took the brunt of the force. They’d be left aching for a while.

Lucifer grunted as he pushed Adam off of him, sitting up and folding his wings in, allowing them to slip out of existence while they healed, he definitely didn’t want to do that again.

He slowly got to his feet while the first man got his bearings, dusting himself off and rubbing his shoulders to try and alleviate the pain.

“Why the fuck did you save me?”

Lucifer jerked and looked down at Adam from where he was glaring up at him, a note of confusion held carefully in his gaze before it dropped.

“I-”

“Well, isn’t this quite a surprise!”

Lucifer’s expression shot into a scowl as he rounded on the radio demon very blatantly interrupting the moment. The bastard just grinned and stared down at the both of them.

From the corner of his eyes Lucifer noted Adam’s good wing hitching up instinctively to cover his face from the demons gaze before dropping.

Lucifer turned his attention back to the radio demon with a glare that could melt steel, “You were going to let him fall,”

“I was going to do no such thing,”

“You just said-!”

“I said nothing you just assumed I was going to do nothing at all!”

“Listen here you!” Lucifer was just off again by the main doors opening and the other’s all barrelling out at the commotion.

Lost in the sudden onslaught of attention and having to field Alastor’s snarky comments, Anthony’s suggestive remarks, and Charlie’s concern, he didn’t see Adam flee the scene.

It wasn’t until much later that he was able to recognize the first man’s absence, searching the hotel to see if Adam was okay.

He found him at the graveyard, sitting among the many tombstones for the exorcists slain in the battle that caused Adam to fall.

Lucifer paused at the entrance to the burial ground, watching Adam sit there facing away from him for what felt like an eternity.

Despite the dead being gone, the king of hell still felt like the exorcists weapons were pointed at him, a warning that if he made one wrong move they would rise from their graves to protect their leader, to avenge him, to strike Lucifer down in an instant.

The once-angel of the morning star carefully stepped away from the cemetery, making sure he didn’t break the silence. Even if Adam wanted to be disturbed, he wasn’t the right person to do it, not in this place.

Besides, he still had his own thoughts to sort through, like why in the name of the divine he saved Adam when he would have survived regardless. He would have been fine even if he did hit the ground unimpeded so why-

Lucifer grimaced as the answer stuck to him like a parasite, he knew damn well why he saved him. It was the same stupid reason he preened Adams wings for him, the same reason he treats the first man’s wing rot and the exact same reason he made that deal with Adam after he fell.

He was attached.

Stupids horribly foolishly, Lucifer still cared for Adam even after everything.

By the stars he beat Adam within an inch of his life! Adam tried to kill his daughter!

But emotions were hardly logical. They weren’t logical when he fell for Lilith in the garden and taught her and Adam both The Voice, they weren’t logical when he freed Eve, and they weren’t logical now.

Lucifer cared for Adam, even if by all logic he should hate the man.

“Dad?”

Lucifer looked up to meet his daughters eyes, a small smile letting her know he was okay, “Hey there Duckie.”

Charlie’s expression softened at the nickname even if he still looked concerned, “Dad… are you sure you’re okay?”

“If I’m not now, I will be, so stop worrying about little old me Char-char,” Lucifer chuckled, “However… Adams in the graveyard if you want to talk to him, he seems like he needs some company right now.”

He made his exit quickly after that, he knew what Charlie would do, it was in her nature to help people, it was what made her so special.

But Lucifer, he helped people once, and now… he had a new person he could help again.

And he might just know where to start.

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hondacivicbrain · 4 months

Text

I’ve been seeing a lot of discussion about Clarisse’s casting in the PJO show that basically boils down to “anyone can be ugly if they have a mean personality.” And like yes, that’s true, but "ugly" people also exist (by ugly, I mean not conventionally attractive). let ugly people be ugly (so long as their ugliness is not a reflection of wider prejudice - ie, if only the evil characters are fat, that’s bad).

This bothers me especially because there is no representation for tall, broad, fat, “ugly” preteen and teenage girls, at least not any that isn’t centered around them becoming beautiful. I don’t think ugliness is a bad word on its own. making a character who rejects femininity and is described as ugly both pretty and feminine isn’t making some kind of statement about how pretty people can be mean too, especially because Clarisse is ultimately redeemed.

For her character to be ugly and mean at the start of the story and end still "ugly" (by conventional standards of femininity) and nice means that her character growth is about her personality - and that her looks were never a reflection of her morality.

It's true that you can be pretty while rejecting femininity, but the way Clarisse is styled in the show (in my opinion) is too feminine. Her appearance is too put together, too subtly feminine, for how she's described in the books. This is no shade to Dior! I actually think she does a great job as Clarisse and I look forward to seeing more of her. But tv and movies have a long history of casting attractive women only to call their characters unattractive, thus reinforcing harmful stereotypes about what is and isn’t beautiful, instead of casting actually *average* looking women.

THAT is the representation my middle school self is aching for. I want a middle schooler who’s taller than all her friends, who’s got a belly, who looks awkward in dresses because of her build, who’s wider than her male friends, who's going through puberty faster than her friends, who has acne and doesn’t wear makeup and doesn’t understand what femininity is and dresses like a Tom boy. These traits aren't ugly. They're normal. They're just not aesthetically attractive, so they are invariably erased from media.

Where is my preteen girl in basketball shorts because the shorts available to girls are too revealing for someone of her size? Where is my teenager who has been told, explicitly or otherwise, that she doesn't conform to beauty standards, so she refuses to wear dresses or skirts? Where is the girl who knows she's "ugly" and doesn't care? Where is the one who never cared until someone told her, and suddenly she wishes to be skinny and slender and not broad-shoulder and not tall and to look like her mom instead of being told she looks like her dad?

I'm all for diversity in casting because people are diverse. But body type - and not just visually appealing or acceptable body types - is part of diversity to. Annabeth’s appearance has virtually no impact on her character, and Leah carries her perfectly. For Clarisse and others like Piper, their appearance is INCREDIBLY relevant to their characters.

Let “ugly” girls be ugly. Combatting fatphobia - which also includes normal sized women and broad shoulders, because the fashion industry has labelled all non-models as fat - in media is not just about showing non-skinny people as attractive. It’s about showing non-skinny people as EXISTING. and being valid for that alone, outside of their moral or aesthetic value.

I can only think of one actress who’s roughly my build. I can think of zero times I watched media aimed for kids and saw a kid my size. Diversity is not just an aesthetic designed to be palatable. Casting characters with ugly personalities as beautiful people when the character in question will go through a redemption isn't the slay some people think because it's still reinforcing the idea that looks have moral value. I rarely see characters without aesthetic attractiveness nowadays, not ones who are on the hero's side; when it comes to children, when I say attractiveness I mean the way a child in a clothing ad looks cute and cheerful, not romantic/sexual attractiveness. For children especially, body positivity is far less important than body neutrality - the idea that their bodies don't have morality or attractive value attached.

What's most important to me is that "ugly" and unfeminine preteen and teenage girls see themselves represented neutrally, in a way I can't recall ever seeing myself.

I don't mean to hate on Dior. I really do think she's excellent as Clarisse. This is just my perspective, as an "ugly," tall, broad-shouldered, chubby former middle school girl who would've loved to see someone who looked like me.

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seahagart · 3 months

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What are Drifa's first opinions of the companions before she gets to know them?

Lae'zel: First companion she would meet, immediately understands she's very brave and 'knows what she's doing', respects. As time goes on, I think Drífa's indifference towards her comments/insults would wane, she would ignore it/not understand what she's saying, or would just think she's making a comment like 'you have an ugly large nose' and drifa is like 'you have no nose, see drífa have eyes', then would probably get tired of it, poking the bear, but remain stoic which i think would bother lae'zel more than getting a reaction lolol. Lae'zel hates Drífa... or does she.... :)

Shadowheart: Second companion, small elf girl, anytime shadowheart is like 'i don't wanna talk about it' drífa's like 'aight' and leaves, which is why shadowheart likes her now. Drífa is concerned, a small elf all alone. Feels shes quite small and fragile to be into the things shes talking about, but whatever. literally has no idea who shar is so is like 'cool goddess, i respect your faith' because drifa also follows a rather fierce goddess. Drifa prefers to listen over talking, so they get along well. shadowheart is desperately trying to smash rn

Gale: Pulled this weirdo out of a rock, a malnourished human, appears sickly. Drífa is confused by most of what he says, but he is rather poetic so she enjoys the 'nonsense' he talks about. Now she has 3 main landers to take care of. Gale talks way too much, but it is entertaining to her. She does not like that he believes he could compete with a goddess.... the gods are gods for a reason, to think you could understand their meaning, or be equal to one is conceited to her. She understands it's because of 'love', but she is weary. Gale is trying to smash now in my play through.

Astarion: weird little malnourished elf man. He also talks to much. Drífa has two talkative dramatic tiny boys and two ladies that hate each other so she's kinda remembering why she lived in isolation for 35 years. Astarion she probably views like a cat, like seeks attention when he wants it, eats what he wants, believes he's the best one here. She is not afraid of him being a vampire because she simply would never let an elf fell her, that would be a true dishonor. he's mildly offended. She doesn't tolerate his dislike of children, but typically doesn't really care what he does.

Wyll: Another little guy with sad eyes. Another human. Drifa likes him, he's polite, seems to know what he's doing, seems 'the most normal' plus has seen his share of battle (like lae'zel) so she's glad to have him along. Obviously when things go down she's like 'wow... yet another guy with baggage with a blue lady...' side eying gale. She likes his stories, listens intently to his deeds of good and protecting the sword coast, overall likes him but is still like 'here is another small human- oops small devil for my collection'

Karlach: Finally someone who looks like they're a warrior. Likes her, feels like she doesn't need to protect/take care of, which is good so she can focus her energies on the softies of the party. Drífa would like Karlach, she's a bit blunt and a bit more energetic than Drífa is used to, but probably likes that. Karlach's dancing, lust for life, and fire would be highly approved. I think Drífa wouldn't really get why she's sad about not being touched

Halsin: another gd ELF, but this ones big and can turn into a bear so thats ok. I think they'd have a lot in common but Drífa views him more as a tree hugger. She appreciates nature, so i think they could get along well.... though she finds him confusing... she doesn't feel like she needs to worry about him, and he's pretty forward and upfront so it works out well.

There are all first impressions. Drífa was raised to take care of herself and herself only, keep to her own, and that strength = power, because her lifestyle is very physically demanding. Being big and strong is important, being fat and strong is more important to survive frozen winters etc. She is a loner suddenly surrounded by people for the first time in her life, and is doing her best to keep them alive because obviously they need her help and this is a mission given to her by her goddess, why else would she have sent the ship to take her, to bring her to these people...

#wyll ravengard #karlach #gale dekarios #astarion acunin #lae'zel #shadowheart #halsin #drífa #bg3 #thank you for the ask btw!!!

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skepsiss · 7 months

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Tooth and Nail -pt1- Steddie

You asked for it @strangersteddierthings it uhh...... hurts a lot at the end. Probably have to do a part 2... or more.

Uuhh, it's kinda sad guys. Prompt was to write something where Eddie is the one that is in denial about his queer-ness and Steve is the one who makes him question his sexual identity. Full request here.

14A ish rating. TW: Miscommunication, denial, mild homophobia, suggestion of past trauma (child abuse), use of drugs (weed), mild physical aggression, the f-slur (not spoken to anyone), self-hatred.

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

Eddie Munson was a freak. He’d been labeled as such since he was a little boy with a teen mom who ended up marrying the asshole who got her pregnant. He was a freak when his mother left and a freak when his father went to jail; how no boy who lived that kind of life was normal by any stretch of the word.

It only got worse from there as he got older. A freak for being poor, a freak for having long hair, being a nerd, a metalhead, trailer-trash, drop out–the list went on and on. Eddie had also gotten good at being a freak. He got good at wearing it like armor so people were scared of him instead of just judgemental. He wanted those insults said to his face, not whispered behind his back and no way in hell was he going to take it lying down. It didn’t make things easy, but it was how you coped.

So, why? Why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie would fight tooth and nail for any freak or weirdo he managed to befriend. It didn’t matter if you were fat, ugly, smart, dorky, a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter what blend or flavour you happened to be–even if Eddie was partial to the nerds and musicians–you were family as soon as you walked into Hawkins High. Once you were a freak you stayed a freak and it came with Eddie Munson as a perk.

As long as he lived. As long as he was in Hawkins.

It wasn’t surprising to Eddie when he found out Will Byers was gay. He had seen it on him as soon as the boy’s missing poster went up and the subsequent reunion happened. He had never really gotten to know Jonathan–he was a weirdo, but not one that apparently liked Eddie’s flavour–but he, much like the rest of Hawkins, had breathed a sigh of relief was Will was delivered home. It was under weird circumstances and Eddie didn’t know much about middle schoolers, but he knew a freak when he saw one. Will was a nerd and he was gay which meant he was premo-meat to be fried by the masses.

If they were in school, if Will came back to Hawkins and Eddie was there he would have fought for him. It didn’t matter if he was gay because freaks and weirdos stuck together no matter the flavour. So when he found out Robin was gay he felt much the same. He didn’t have anything against queer folk and honestly, he saw them as being in a similar boat as him. He’d embrace someone who was gay way before he’d embrace someone who was Christian–even though he was neither of those things.

Eddie had no love for the church and apparently, all the ‘f-words’ were all damned to hell so they might as well make it a party. Seemed like all the interesting people were hell-bound.

Their little collective. Family. A regular bunch of Addams.

So, why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie had been called everything under the sun as far as insults went. He was no stranger to ’bigot’ or ’devil’, ’sinner’ or ’faggot’. You learned not to react or give them a reason to keep poking. You learned not to take it seriously or let it chink your armor. None of it had to be true and denying it wouldn’t help, you just learned to _ignore_ it and tell yourself that they didn’t know you and their insults didn’t mean anything. Surround yourself with people that either love you or respect you and you’re golden. Listen to them, take their opinions, be yourself, and embrace your flavour.

When Steve came out as queer though, Eddie had no clue what to do. The idea that he would claim that label was beyond Eddie’s understanding especially since he hadn’t seen that confession coming from Steve of all people. He was a weirdo by proxy but… No, the thing that really bothered Eddie about that was his reaction. When he found out Robin and Will were as gay as they came he had gone out of his way to make sure they knew he didn’t have a problem with it. He made sure they felt like they were family and if everyone else ditched Eddie wouldn’t.

Tooth and nail. Tooth and nail.

But when Steve came out? Eddie had been shocked, for one thing, and secondly, he had felt his stomach drop out. Panic had flooded him and he was thankful that he wasn’t the only one in the room when it was said.

He had put an arm around Will and jostled him affectionately. He had cracked a joke and smiled at Robin before privately telling her that if she needed anything he was there. He had felt those reactions so naturally almost as if Will and Robin were just telling them all what college they’d be going to. Cool, doesn’t change a thing. Let me know if you need any help with stuff. Easy. Steve though? Steve…

While everyone else in their casual setting seemed to be nodding or not making a fuss–most of them used to this kind of thing by now–Eddie sat there petrified. What did he say? What did he do? Steve wasn’t some kid Eddie could rib and force into an affectionate headlock. He wasn’t a chick he could pretend to posture for so she felt like he had her back. He was… Steve.

Eddie had left that night feeling out of sorts. He hadn’t spoken to Steve and his subdued interaction was pointed out by anyone, but Eddie hadn’t left their little gathering feeling subdued at all. Outwardly maybe, but internally his mind had been locked in place over Steve saying I think I’m bisexual.

Okay… so what? Same as anyone else, right? Queer, whatever–certified freak, cool–so why was he twisted up about it?

Eddie had been spending a lot of time with Steve over the last few months and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he actually liked his company. Steve was sarcastic and charming and a little bit of a bitch but it just made joking around with him easier. Once they had bridged the gap between ‘nerd shit’ and ‘jock shit’ it became easy to spend time with Steve. Eddie had watched Steve relax around him which literally looked like his body relaxing. You wouldn’t know it right away, but Steve was tense when he wasn’t comfortable around you: arms crossed, brows pinched, shoulders tight, jaw locked, and stance controlled. All of that fell away once he settled down and it was easy to be around him then. Eddie had actually enjoyed seeing the process of Steve relaxing around him as they played the NES with Dustin or sat outside and shared a joint without the rest of the goodies-goodies knowing.

He enjoyed Steve’s company, so what was he worried about? Was he scared Steve would come onto him? That was presumptuous of him and probably rude. He wasn’t scared of Will getting a crush on him or any other obviously gay guy he had seen at shows and bars. He’d even turned guys down which always seemed to embarrass them a bit and Eddie hated that he saw a flash of fear in their eyes when he told them he was straight. He always made sure to end the conversation with It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it and then smile to show he meant no harm.

He liked queer folk. They were family. Why was Steve different?

Eddie’s brain was stuck in fast-forward all night once he got home. He hated it when his brain did that to him. Every image flashed through his brain at supersonic speed and he couldn’t focus on anything. It was exhausting and frustrating and it literally felt like his mind was racing. The only thing that helped was imagining the sprawling darkness of space and slowly… very slowly… adding little pinpricks of light to the image. He had to force himself to slow down and from the outside, he knew it looked like he wasn’t doing anything. It looked like he was being lazy, but in reality, all the energy he usually exuded had just become internalized.

He’d tell Steve it was fine. He’d made sure Steve knew he always had his support. That was what he was supposed to do. That was what he did for everyone else.

But when it happened–when he got his chance to have an aside with Steve–his gut had pulled and his tongue had gotten caught between his teeth. It happened the second time he tried too, and the third, and the fourth–each time he tried to talk to Steve one-on-one he clammed up. It was maddening really and Eddie had started to notice that Steve was suspicious of him–and not in a good way.

The fifth time was different. The fifth time was worse.

They had all been celebrating Max’s return home and as the kids got loud and the sun set it felt like one of those nights where Eddie just didn’t have the energy to be around this many people. He loved socializing–he loved the party–but sometimes it just became too much he could feel his mind drifting away from the scene.

Eddie had started his drift before looking up and catching Steve’s eye across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and as he flicked his gaze up he slowly raised his hand to his mouth and mimed smoking. It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant and Eddie raised his brow in agreement before slinking away.

“I don’t have any on me,” Eddie explained as they stepped out into the dark, “but I’ve got some at home.”

His trailer was only a stone’s throw away from Max’s place so it wasn’t really a big deal. Weed sounded like a good idea too; he could smoke and bring him back to earth and maybe it would settle his nerves enough to properly talk to Steve. He _wanted_ to talk to Steve.

“We going to smoke here?” Steve asked as he followed Eddie inside the trailer. Wayne was out and Eddie didn’t have any qualms about Steve coming over to his place.

“Sure, might as well so the impressionable young children,” Eddie mocked, using a stuffy, posh voice, “don’t get tempted by our bad influence.”

He snickered as he touched his own chest, extending his hand skyward and acting as if he were delivering a Shakespearean speech.

“Ms. Languard, is that you?” Steve mocked back, shoving Eddie’s shoulder so he’d continue his walk towards his bedroom.

Eddie laughed again and stumbled down the hall, glad that they could at least joke around with each other still. Yeah, he’d smoke and then he’d properly let Steve know that being queer was cool with him and that they were blood-bonded for life already having survived a demonic war together. Steve would call him dramatic and they’d laugh over it and then things could go back to normal.

Eddie had found one of his baggies of weed after tossing the laundry on his floor about the room for a few minutes before finally getting his stuff together so he could roll them a joint. The buds had been bitter and Eddie had jokingly apologized before hanging the blunt over to Steve to smoke. He had coughed and gagged at the flavour and Eddie had called him a pussy in good humour. Normal. They were acting normal.

As the weed seeped in they got quieter though and Eddie felt himself drifting again as he sat on the foot of his bed. Steve was standing by the window so he could blow the smoke outside even though Eddie didn’t care about the smell. It was polite and Eddie could appreciate that at least.

“You okay?” Steve asked as Eddie caught himself staring blankly at the ground, knees tucked up to his chest.

“Oh–yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking,” he admitted, blinking hard and then smiling at Steve. They shared a chuckle and Steve took a step forward to hand the joint over.

“Thinking about anything interesting?” He asked, carefully turning the blunt in his fingers so Eddie could grab it.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Eddie mumbled, taking a moment before finally putting his feet back on the floor and taking the smoke from Steve.

“You gunna share with the class?” Steve asked and Eddie giggled again at that, the joke was not that funny but the weed was getting to him.

It took another moment as Eddie smoked, his attention drifting a bit before he finally answered.

“I was thinking about what you said the other week,” Eddie admitted, trying to let the hold his anxieties had on him fade away. He could just let those fears slip through his fingers and he’d finally be able to say what he had been meaning to say for weeks now. Weed was good for that.

“The other week…” Eddie continued, and he stood slowly to pass the joint. Steve was staring at him with bemusement and confusion, obviously trying to follow along with what Eddie was saying. Eddie could feel that blanket of anxiety that had been wrapped around him slowly lifting. He didn’t have to think about anything, just say what he meant to say and then they’d be back to normal.

“The other week when you uh, when you told everyone you were gay,” Eddie explained, nodding which got a pinched expression from Steve.

“Bisexual–bi,” he corrected, taking the blunt from Eddie and smoking it.

“Yeah, that,” Eddie answered, “it got me thinking about stuff…”

Eddie could feel himself getting distracted as his mind lost its grasp on the words he had been trying to deliver. He understood what he wanted to say–in sentiment–but he was having a hard time forming the words to go along with it. His attention kept on bending and then refocusing on other things that weren’t important. How his hair was tickling his ears a bit, and how bitter the weed tasted on the back of his tongue, and then to his room and how it was probably embarrassing to have Steve here when it was such a mess–he had to refocus on Steve.

“Uh, you, Steve,” Eddie tried, lifting his hand and poking Steve hard in the chest. He just had to drift his brain over to thinking about Steve.

“Yeah… me?” Steve replied, breathing a small laugh.

Eddie smiled, wondering for a moment if he was acting silly and if he was amusing Steve. He liked it when they joked and he had been missing that the last few days. He missed spending time with Steve. He wanted to tell him he accepted him. He wanted to tell Steve he’d always be there. He wanted to put him in a headlock, rib him, posture a little… see him relax… He wanted to see Steve’s posture change, his brows soften, and his mouth unpinch. And then everything would be normal. How they’d just go back to being freaks together.

Yeah, no more anxieties about all this, it was just Steve. It was just Steve.

“Eddie?” Steve asked and Eddie only vaguely registered that he was touching Steve’s face. He looked confused, but he was smiling, and all Eddie could think about was how beautiful his smile was.

The next thing Eddie knew he was stepping forward as if in a slow dance and pushing Steve back towards the wall he had been leaning on. Steve didn’t fight him, but Eddie didn’t have the presence of mind to question what that meant. He was just moving them across the room so he could press flush against Steve and kiss him. The action had been so gentle Eddie had felt like he was dreaming through the whole thing like it wasn’t really him doing it. Steve shuttered under him and Eddie pulled back just far enough so he could see Steve’s expression. His eyes were closed and his brows were pinched together as if something painful had just happened.

They had kissed and Steve was in pain? They had kissed, why would Steve be in pain? They had kissed.

Eddie let go abruptly and stumbled backward as his anxieties plowed back into him.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, sticking his hands up in front of himself.

Steve didn’t move from the wall and as he opened his eyes slowly and a pang of guilt shot through Eddie. He stumbled back again as his knees hit the edge of the bed forcing him to sit down.

“Sorry, sorry–” Eddie offered, laughing now as his fear bubbled up. Why the hell had he done that? What the fuck was he doing?

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean anything by it, I uh, was just curious.”

That was the reason, right? There probably wasn’t another reason that made sense. He had been high and his brain had just filtered through the possibilities and for some reason, it had settled on a kiss. Fucking weird, but he had never claimed to be normal.

“Curious?” Steve said back slowly as he came out of what seemed like a daze, “you were… curious?”

Eddie felt his throat getting tight and he was desperately trying to swallow the lump that was forming there.

“I was just joking around,” he offered a weak smile and Steve just stared at him. Eddie watched as his expression changed from dazzled confusion to anger.

“What the fuck, man?” Steve bit out sounding insulted. He didn’t sound as angry as Eddie thought, but he did sound upset.

“Sorry, I dunno man, I’m high,” Eddie blurted, speaking to the first excuse that came to mind.

Steve just stared at him before shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration looked like it was building and that in turn was making Eddie shrink back.

“You’re unbelievable…” Steve muttered to himself, as he slowly turned to face his back to Eddie, his hands going to his hip, “unbelievable… what the fuck?”

“Sorry–” Eddie tried once more getting cut off this time as Steve snapped at him.

“Stop apologizing, okay?” He said slicing the air with his hand before settling back down and putting his hand back on his waist.

Eddie shut up and stared as he watched Steve’s shoulder bunch and his posture shift from relaxed to tense.

“Joking around… joking around?” Steve asked, his tone accusatory even though it was level. Eddie just gaped at him, not sure what to say if he wasn’t supposed to apologize anymore. The question seemed like it had been rhetorical anyway.

Eddie watched as Steve touched his own lips, squeezing them sharply as if he were thinking and trying to pull the sensation away from his mouth at the same time.

“So, you were just curious to know–what? What it’s like to kiss a guy? To know if you like guys?” He asked, turning to look at Eddie again but not changing his posture at all.

“I don’t like guys, I’m straight,” Eddie said sharply, his stomach tightening, “I was just…”

Steve’s lip started to curl and Eddie shrunk back further, feeling guilty and embarrassed and ashamed in a way he didn’t know how to communicate. In a way he didn’t want to communicate.

“Just… joking around?” Steve repeated back, his dipping so his delivery lacked emotion. That had stung. That hurt more than Eddie thought it would.

Steve shook his head and raised the joint back to his lips to take a hit.

“Yeah, real funny,” he started to say as he tossed the blunt at Eddie, “a regular riot. Just kiss your buddy Steve. It’s soooo fucking funny that he likes guys.”

Eddie could see that Steve’s cheeks were flushing as his voice hitched slightly. He was keeping it together but his expression was that of a man who had just been betrayed. He looked hurt. It looked like he had just bore his soul and Eddie had laughed in his face. Like he had been cruel for no other reason than to hurt him.

“Steve–” Eddie started, standing up, not sure what to do.

“You’re sorry, I get it,” Steve replied, stepping towards the door and starting to walk away.

“I didn’t mean it like that–” Eddie tried, hurrying after him and grabbing Steve’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. Steve tried to brush him off, but Eddie was determined to hold on.

Steve moved quickly then and it caught Eddie off guard as he grabbed his wrist and whipped around. Steve shoved hard and Eddie stumbled backward until he hit the wall, Steve’s forearm across his chest.

“Don’t–” Steve bit out, sticking his finger aggressively in Eddie’s face, “--fucking touch me.”

His tone was incredibly level but it was obvious that he was holding back real anger. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steve was an athlete. That he could run circles around everyone in the crew and was easily the strongest amongst them under the age of twenty-five. He had survived Russian torture and Eddie had witnessed him using that strength to help the party. Steve was resilient and he was strong… even if he rarely threw a punch.

Eddie was too shocked to react properly and before he knew it Steve had let go of him and stormed out of the trailer. Fear rang Eddie like a bell as he stood there and listened as a car engine turned on and the sound of tires of gravel filtered through the open screendoor. He was shaking, he was sure, his body reacting to old memories and mortified by what had just transpired.

“Fuck…” Eddie mumbled, his throat tight and his lips feeling as if they were glued together.

“Fuck–” he repeated, heaving as he raised his hands to his face and pressed his wrists into his eyes.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted feeling the tears build as he let his knees buckle under him. He slid down the wall and crumpled, hands still pressed into his eyes as he started to sob openly. He was soothing the memories of that scared child but he was also mourning Steve. It felt bad. Everything felt bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie muttered to himself through his tears, his voice thick with phlegm, “what the fuck was that? Why did you do that? You fucking… asshole!”

He was bullying himself, he knew it, but he couldn’t help how upset he was. He was mad at himself for doing something unbelievably stupid and he was frustrated that he was reacting this way to it. But he couldn’t help that it felt like his heart was about to give out as he gasped in breath and his stomach filled with air. He was practically gulping as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. It was like he was a little kid again. But that wasn’t fair–he didn’t get to act this way. He had been the one that had hurt Steve.

“Fuck,” he gagged, leaning over the sink and turning the tap on. A morbid part of him needed to look and see the fear and sorrow on his face so he looked up at the mirror and cringed at his own appearance. His face was red and tears wouldn’t stop flowing from his eyes. His upper lip had gathered snot and his mouth was turned grotesquely into an open frown.

“Stop it,” he swallowed, gritting his teeth as he stared at himself, “you don’t get to do that.”

Eddie gulped in another breath and stood up straight. He closed his eyes and forced his frustration inwards, forcing himself to just get over it.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he mumbled, breathing out slowly as he tried to calm down, “stop it!” He flipped the switch from upset into anger, tears still running down his face but no longer hyperventilating.

“What the fuck was that?” he repeated, dropping his gaze to look at himself in the mirror again, “you–you… you fucking creep. Asshole. What the hell? You’re fucking straight. How the hell are you going to fix this, asshole? Why would you give yourself another reason to be labeled a freak?”

The words stung and Eddie swallowed hard, looking away from the mirror finally. He was calming down even if he didn’t feel better, pushing those emotions inside to deal with later. It was too raw right now, it was too much, he couldn’t do this right now.

Eddie let out a breath through gritted teeth and then moved back to the sink. He turned the water on full blast and then started yanking his rings off. He didn’t care where they fell, but once his hands were bare he cupped them under the water and splashed the cold liquid into his face. He gasped at the sensation and did it again, did it until he had washed all the snot and tears from his face, and then turned the faucet off.

Eddie hung his head over the sink for a long moment, breathing through his mouth as the water streamed off his face. He settled slowly and sucked in one last hard breath and then dried his face off.

“Fucking hell man…” Eddie said quietly, sounding more exasperated than anything now.

He frowned deeply as he walked back into his bedroom. The joint they had been smoking was on the floor at the foot of his bed and it had started to singe a hole into the carpet. Eddie tisked and picked it up before stamping on the burn mark a few times to make sure it didn’t spread.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

Pt2

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #BIG SAD VIBES #I do not endorse the way Eddie deals with his emotions at all #I do not endorse Steve getting kind of physical with Eddie #I get it and I know why both of them do that but it's still bad #understandable but bad #ANYWAAAYYYYSSSSSS ask me to write things

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nothorses · 2 years

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"Transandrophobia" Primer

There's a wild amount of misinformation about the term "transandrophobia" going around, and has been for a long time. So let's dig in a bit and set the record straight.

What it is

"Transandrophobia" was coined as an alternative to "transmisandry", and describes the unique oppression targeted at and faced by transmasculine folks (and people perceived to be transmasculine).

Transmascs experience oppression not just on the basis of being trans, or (typically) AFAB, and certainly not on the basis of being men alone. What we experience is unique to being transmasculine, and the way cissexist society categorizes and responds to us: not as women, not as men, but as an "other" that lies between the two.

Some quick examples of transandrophobia:

Trans men are the most likely group in the trans community to have negative experiences with healthcare providers.

AFAB trans people in general are most likely to be denied HRT.

Trans men are most likely to be denied surgery coverage.

Trans men are most likely to avoid healthcare out of fear.

Nonbinary people and trans men were most likely to report having never, or only sometimes, been treated with respect by law enforcement.

Trans men are more likely to experience problems with airport security.

Trans men are most likely to avoid public restrooms.

Over half of all AFAB nonbinary people and trans men experience sexual assault. These are the highest rates in the queer community.

9 out of every 10 trans men seriously consider attempting suicide. This is the highest rate in the queer community.

About half of all trans men attempt suicide. This is the highest rate in the queer community.

What it Looks Like

Transmascs are generally placed in one of two categories: confused "girls" they believe can be saved, and evil, dangerous "other" they believe are beyond saving. There's a ton of overlap in these two categories, both in what they experience, and in the fact that oftentimes the two are experienced simultaneously; even in the same situation.

A quick, incomplete list of how these things can manifest:

Infantilization ("soft", "little")

Removal of autonomy

Stereotyping as "whiny", "hysterical", or "entitled".

"Butch flight" or "ROGD" - the idea that transmascs are stealing butch lesbians.

Pressuring transmascs to be more feminine/womanly, either through overt force, or through subtler manipulation.

The desire to "make transmascs women" via sexual assault (corrective rape).

The idea that testosterone causes aggression; emotional, physical, and sexual- therefore transition is dangerous, and transmascs who transition are dangerous.

Fearmongering around transmasc transitions; "binders can never be safe", "vaginal atrophy is untreatable", "you'll get fat/ugly/acne/sweaty/oily/smelly", "phalloplasty is too dangerous/expensive/unsatisfying to be worth it", etc.

Medical professionals dissuading transmascs from transitioning; stressing risks that can in actuality be mitigated easily, nitpicking family history without presenting options, etc.

The idea that transmascs only become trans to "escape misogyny" or to "gain male privilege".

Erasure of transmasc experiences, esp. experiences with misogyny and transphobia.

Lack of resources for transmasc abuse survivors.

Lack of resources for transmascs in need of reproductive healthcare on the basis of "male" gender markers, names, voices, and appearances.

Why We Call it That

"Transandrophobia" can be broken down in two ways:

"Trans" + "androphobia" = the "trans version" of "androphobia", a fear of men or social bigotry toward men.

"Trans-andro" + "phobia" = a social bigotry directly specifically at trans men/transmascs.

The second is the more common interpretation and usage, largely because the first can be interpreted, by some, to mean that those using the word are suggesting that it's actually (cis) women who oppress (cis) men, that we don't believe patriarchy exists, etc. This, of course, has never been the intention of the word.

The first break-down above could also be interpreted to refer to patriarchy's negative stereotyping of men- as aggressive, dangerous, and sexually predatory.

While that doesn't translate to systemic oppression of cis men, those same feelings- a general disgust and fear toward the concept of manhood- do inform how society responds to transmascs. As a group of people who are oppressed on the basis of being transmasculine, those feelings do play a role in transmasc oppression.

What it Isn't

"Transandrophobia" is not an attack on, or accusation toward, any other group of people.

The word does not imply that trans women oppress trans men, that transmascs have it worse than anyone else, that transfems are horrible bigots, that transfem issues do not deserve the attention they receive (or, ideally, far more attention than they currently receive).

It does not imply that cis misandry exists, that "MRAs were right", that patriarchy and misogyny aren't real, or that feminism isn't necessary.

It does not signal bigotry toward other groups. Whatever your personal opinion of the word, of who uses it, or of who coined it, the word is a word and it stands alone from those things. It belongs to the transmasculine community.

It does not demand anyone pay any less attention to other important issues. It does not accuse other trans people of oppressing us. It does not dismiss the existence of patriarchy or structural oppression of women. It does not belong to any one individual.

Why We Need it

There are real, tangible issues within the transmasc community- things that are unique to transmascs- and those things happen because of a unique bigotry toward transmasculinity.

In order to address those problems, we have to be able to talk about what they are and why they happen.

In order to talk about that, we need a word for what it is. "Transandrophobia" is that word.

Don't get me wrong: the word might change at some point, and that's fine. If the transmasc community as a whole decides that we would like a new word, and creates one together that suits those new needs, that's fine. But as of now, this is the most common, recognizable, easy-to-understand word we have.

"Transandrophobia" belongs to the transmasc community, and it's up to transmascs to define, interpret, create or remove associations, revise, and replace, as it sees fit.

What You Can Do

If you're transmasc:

Talk about your experiences. Connect with other transmascs. Join transmasc community spaces, create new ones, and maintain a positive, productive, and inclusive culture within those spaces. Uplift transmascs with different experiences from you.

Be an ally to other trans people, to people of color, to disabled people, and to other marginalized groups. Do not allow resentment toward the trans community- any part of it, and especially toward transfems- to fester in any space you inhabit.

If you're not:

Listen to transmascs. Seek transmascs out to listen to. Uplift transmasc voices. Learn. Ask questions, even if they're scary, and be ready to be surprised by the answers.

Think for yourself. Own your opinions, and own where they're coming from; don't blame them on other trans people. Acknowledge your limitations in experience. Know that you don't need to understand in order to respect us. Try to understand anyway.

#transandrophobia #transmasc #trans #transgender #trans pride #ftm #trans men #transmasculine #trans masc #trans community #long post #saint-speaks

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rainbowmothed · 3 months

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── HAZBIN HOTEL: HALLOWEEN COSTUME HEADCANONS

· ★ · i know it's not halloween yet at ALL but i couldn't resist making this... :3 pls enjoy!!

I. HAZBIN HOTEL RESIDENTS

charlie – harley quinn, matching with vaggie!! she's dressed up every single year ever since she was a tiny little baby because her parents always dressed up too

vaggie – poison ivy, matching with charlie!! she's been dressing up every year with charlie ever since she fell. used to have to be convinced, now she does it willingly. also the one who THOROUGHLY searches everyone's candy

angel dust – rlly revealing twinky ass latex catboy outfit. he's a firm believer in dressing slutty for halloween every year and proudly announces it

husker / husk – his old boomer ass never dresses up, says he's “going as himself” when anyone asks

alastor – doesn't usually dress up, until the rest of the hotel does. then, he'll join the “pathetic holiday festivities.” would maybe go as a nun?? don't really have any ideas for him tbh

niffty – one of those “sexy maid/nurse” outfits… im sorry you KNOW it's canon

sir pentious – asks cherri to match with him, gets rejected because the costume idea was “to lame” for her. eventually buckles to his brit roots and goes as queen elizabeth

egg bois – obviously matching with pentious!! they'd go as royal guards since he's queen elizabeth ykyk

fat nuggets – obviously angel puts him in an old fashioned pretty blonde wig and fucked up little dress and says he's a “alcoholic 90's smoker mom core hoe!”

keekee – goes as catwoman/selina kyle to complete the trio, since charlie and vaggie are going as harley and ivy respectively

razzle &. dazzle – razzle goes as a knight, and dazzle as a princess. they match every year obvs!!

II. THE THREE VEES

valentino – uhhmm idk he probably goes as sexy/revealing border patrol to be controversial and piss people off like the actual menace to society he is LMAO

vox – goes as alastor but adds really exaggerated/ugly traits like a massive squidward nose to make fun of him cuz he's obsessed or wtvs idk!!

velvette – the only one who takes halloween SERIOUSLY out of the vees, as the fashion icon she is. definitely makes her own costume every year, goes as whatever is trending at the time

MORE COMING SOON!! MAYBE!! IF I GET INSPIRED!! reposts/interactions insanely appreciated <3

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genderkoolaid · 1 month

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advice on how to get over the fear that t is going to make me ugly? or that i’m going to miss “the old me”

i’m a queer trans guy and i’ve been questioning going on t for years now and i know i definitely want bottom growth, body fat redistribution and more body hair.

but im err on the side of face and voice changes. i’m scared of disliking my new voice and suddenly growing dysphoric over it (i dont have too much voice dysphoria now) and disliking how my new face will look. i’m kinda genderfluid as well so it’s complicated. but i don’t want to go my whole life without knowing what it’s like to be on hrt. but i can’t get over the fear of looking/finding myself ugly and undesirable and losing my community... which is ironic cuz i find other trans men attractive as hell. i discussed this in therapy and i still feel this way :/

i wish there was a way for me to start without telling anyone and then breaking the news when i’m experiencing changes and feeling more confident about it. i have my gender dysphoria diagnosis and i can start if i want to, but i need my family’s financial support. i don’t want to make it a big deal since it’s just something i’d be trying out to feel more like myself in certain ways.

sorry this turned into a long ass rant and you don’t have to reply but i’m just gonna kindly leave it in the ask box 💀

There's a post that goes like "all of life is irreversible. i cannot go back a single second" and I think thats something good to keep in mind when you are thinking through this. You are already living with a body that has changed and will continue to change in ways largely out of your control. You are already living in a post-irreversible-alteration body.

If you do go on T and find you don't like how your voice sounds: for one, you can stop at any time (& if you haven't checked out microdosing as an option, you should). But two: plenty of people live with a deeper voice than they want. Plenty of people live with facial hair they dislike. You can pursue the same therapies and procedures they do. Or maybe you don't, and you find ways to live with a voice or face you aren't totally in love with.

So much detransition fearmongering, especially directed at transmascs & assoc. trans people, heavily relies on the specter of the fallen woman, itself steeped in trans-misogyny & intersexism. The idea that, for one, a "woman" who has mixed-sex features is ugly and undesirable, and two, that a "woman" made undesirable is forever doomed to be miserable and worthless. The transphobic story of detransition keeps our bodies stuck in this moment of revulsion and regret, narratively preventing us as characters from being able to move on and live happy lives in atypical bodies. Even if you do regret/dislike some things about T, you are not forever stuck in that feeling. The story does not stop at that! You will just keep living and find new ways of dealing with your bodily feelings!

The social aspect of this is a bit more complicated but I also have some firsthand experience with it. Because, as mentioned before, there's a lot of transphobic misogyny/misogynistic transphobia that affects transmascs & others who go on T, who have to confront the feeling of losing your potential desirability. And then there's also the way many people are treated after going on T, facing a whole new area of bodily scrutiny: you may suddenly have people making comments about how someone needs to force teenage boys to shave because their facial hair is a personal offense. I went from being self-conscious about how high my voice was to being self-conscious about how undeniably trans my voice was. And, specifically, my facial hair, voice changes, etc. were all signs of my transmasculine desire, and I became self-conscious about how obvious it was that I desired being trans, I desired this body. I could no longer let everyone pretend I was a cishet girl at family gatherings and avoid confronting these issues, because I had essentially written I WANT TO BE A TRANNY all over my physical form.

This is something I'm still struggling with myself. I, like many other queer & autistic people, already struggled with feeling desirable or worthy of being seen alongside conventionally attractive cishet people who could act normal. Being visibly trans, and taking a huge step away from the desirable cis-perisex-girl body, can really open up that can of worms. Especially being genderfluid/genderqueer! Because we often cannot find a comfortable space for ourselves within the conventions of attractiveness for cis men, like some binary trans men are able to.

But ultimately, I don't regret going on T at all. I would have had body issues regardless, and I got a lot out of going on T. I think mentally preparing yourself to struggle with these things, and seeking out other transmasc people, is a big help. Again: all of life is irreversible. we cannot go back a single second. We are already living in imperfect bodies we struggle to love or see as worthy. If you know you want some of the things T can offer, and you don't want to go your whole life without knowing, then just do it. Dive in, and don't feel any shame if you decide to get out. Just keep living and finding ways to live better right now.

#m.#ask box

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