#/weight discussion

[gibbearish]

yknow i hadnt really processed how much the adderall weight loss has changed my face shape but then i found this slightly older selfie

<== old now ==>

like. aww look at ur cute lil squishable cheeks:3 i can see why bf did that so much i would too

[metanarrates]

I genuinely feel like an alien compared to my coworkers when they try to chat with me about things like dating and weight loss. like what are you SAYING about "oh you know it's just so hard to make your man understand the instructions you give him?" why are you trying to connect with me by complaining that you gained 15 pounds? is this how most people form connections in the workplace? i for real do not get it

[stonerexicfaery]

literally

[solarmorrigan]

No one looks like they did in high school forever (be kinda weird if they did, honestly). Changes catch up with everyone sooner or later. For Steve, it seems to have happened sooner.

Personally, Eddie is in favor.

It isn’t that he hadn’t thought Steve looked in good in high school – god knows it isn’t that (Eddie may have thought Steve had been an asshole at the time, but he’d been a pretty one). It’s just that high school had been a time of basketball and swim meets and carefully watching his diet and carefully curating his appearance to match what he’d thought other people would want to see.

The time since graduation has been spent putting on the type of muscle that would better facilitate fighting monsters and keeping a band of misfit children safe (because after three times around, Steve hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to believe that the Upside Down was really gone), being fed by a rotating cast of mothers who appreciate him being there for said misfit children, and in letting himself decide how he thinks he looks good.

The first time Eddie really gets a good look at Steve after he’s left high school, he’s gone from lean muscle and looks a bit closer to the tank that Dustin’s been insisting he is. The first time Eddie sees him in action, he decides he wants to climb Steve like a tree.

Broad shoulders, strong biceps, solid core, thick thighs, that ass—is it objectification if you’re dating the guy and also madly in love with him? Whatever—Eddie is of the opinion that the time since high school has been very kind to Steve, appearance-wise.

He’s startled to realize, then, that Steve does not always share this opinion.

It doesn’t happen often; it’s rare enough that even Robin almost misses it, and Eddie is a big enough person to admit that she’s a more experienced Steve-watcher than he is.

For the most part, Steve is comfortable in his skin; he knows he looks good, he knows Eddie thinks he looks good, he knows what he’s capable of, and he’s pleased with where he is. Some days, though – some days just aren’t good days.

There are times when Eddie will catch Steve lingering in the mirror, frowning over a shirt that used to fall differently, or a pair of shorts that used to fit a little more loosely. He might reach for one of the cookies that Claudia sent them home with after their last dinner over at the Henderson household, before faltering and grabbing an apple instead (or, sometimes, nothing at all). He might wear extra layers, steal one of Eddie’s slightly oversized flannel shirts, go on an extra run, or he might not be in the mood to cuddle up to Eddie in bed (in spite of the fact that Eddie knows how much he loves getting to be the little spoon, even if he still refuses to say it out loud).

Most of these things by themselves don’t really have to mean anything, but somehow, Eddie can always tell when it’s one of those insecure days.

(And if Eddie had ever thought when he was younger that Steve Harrington could feel insecure about the way he looks, about his body, he might have cracked a crass joke about King Steve’s obvious need to overcompensate for something. Now, though, he knows better. Also, he’s a tiny bit more mature than that.)

So when he comes into the living room one afternoon to find Steve practically crammed into the corner of the sofa, curled in on himself just enough to suggest that he’s trying to take up less space, Eddie decides that that will just not do.

Eddie loves Steve’s confidence. He loves the space Steve takes up in his life (metaphorically and literally). He loves Steve, and he sure as hell isn’t about to let him spend the day feeling bad about himself, so he ducks back into the bedroom for the book on his nightstand and then plops down on the other end of the couch.

He reads for a little while and doesn’t really have to worry about getting too distracted from his plan, because he always finds himself tilting towards Steve like a compass to magnetic north, whether he’s actively trying or not. So he reads, and he shuffles around on the couch a bit, and he lists to the side a little, and then he’s finally just close enough to Steve to plausibly ask, “Hey, d’you mind?”

Steve glances up from the magazine he’s been reading, brows furrowed. “Mind what?”

Eddie points to the way Steve’s legs are drawn up almost to his chest. “Stretching your legs out? I wanna lay down.”

And normally, Steve doesn’t hesitate – hell, normally, Eddie doesn’t even need to ask; it’s almost as if he can just tell when Eddie wants to rest his head in his lap and automatically moves to welcome it. Today, though, he rolls his eyes.

“We have pillows on the couch for a reason,” he says, jerking his head towards the throw pillows at the other end of the couch (as if Eddie could forget the throw pillows; they’d spent a goddamn hour at the furniture store staring at the choices and had walked out laughing about how boring and adult and great it felt to be decorating their apartment with fucking throw pillows – but that isn’t the point).

Eddie scoffs. “Why would I settle for a pillow when I could have something way more comfortable?”

“Yeah, there’s no way my lap is better than a pillow,” Steve drawls.

“Baby, your lap is the most comfortable resting place known to man,” Eddie states, so dramatically intoned that it makes Steve laugh, even though Eddie is fairly serious. “Now why would you deny me my favorite place to lay my head?”

Steve rolls his eyes again, but obligingly (if slowly) stretches out his legs and rests his socked feet on the coffee table to make space for Eddie.

“Thank you,” Eddie says primly, before flopping down on the couch and making himself comfortable with his head situated on Steve’s lap, then giving a demonstrative little wiggle to settle in. “Yep, that’s the stuff. Perfect.”

“Man, shut up,” Steve mumbles, turning back to his magazine.

When Eddie glances up to check that he hasn’t gone too far, there’s a bit of a flush high on Steve’s cheeks, but no real displeasure on his face, so he doubles down.

“I will not. Not until you acknowledge the perfection that is your thighs,” Eddie declares, pressing his head further back into Steve’s lap. “Firm, but with just enough give–” he reaches up and pinches the side of Steve’s thigh, smiling innocently when Steve jolts and glares down at him, “always warm. Perfect.”

Steve turns his eyes resolutely back to the magazine he’s got balanced on the arm of the couch. “Not perfect.”

“Well, sure, perfection is subjective, means different things to different people, blah blah blah.” Eddie waves his hand in a vague ‘et cetera’ gesture and accidentally smacks Steve in the arm before he turns his head (and his hair is absolutely going all staticky after being rubbed against the fabric of Steve’s sweatpants, which is going to be a nightmare later, but that’s a problem for future Eddie) and presses a kiss to the spot just above Steve’s knee. “But they’re perfect to me.”

For a moment, Steve is still. Then he shifts slightly in place, and Eddie has the feeling that if he were standing, he’d be shuffling from foot to foot.

“And I have it on pretty good authority that my opinion counts for something,” Eddie goes on. “So if you ask me—which you should—your thighs are one of your best features.”

Finally, Steve glances back down at Eddie. “You think so?” he asks, soft and a little hesitant.

“Absolutely. One of my favorite parts of you, on a rotating basis with every other part of you,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve scoffs, because this time Steve is smiling, too. “What? There are so many good features, I’ve gotta make sure I pay them all equal attention.”

And the thing is, Eddie does know that what got Steve into this mindset in the first place was spending so long seeing himself as valued only for what he can provide physically: a handsome face, a lean figure, a human shield, the Party tank – whatever it is. Most of the time, Eddie makes sure Steve knows what he loves about him as a person, not just about his body. He could gain one hundred pounds, he could lose all muscle mass and be as skinny as a rail, he could look like anything, and it wouldn’t matter, because Eddie loves him.

But that doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t also want a little reassurance now and then that Eddie loves his body, too – which Eddie does, and is happy to provide.

“And today, I’m paying attention to your thighs,” Eddie concludes.

“Stop saying ‘thighs,’ it’s starting to sound like gibberish,” Steve shoots back, but there’s a pleased tilt to the corners of his mouth now.

Eddie hums. “I especially love when you let me lay in your lap. Love having your legs under my head. Or wrapped around my head.” He waves his hand around his face, smirking up at Steve. “Just, in the vicinity of my head, really.”

Steve loses the battle with the laugh he’s been trying to hold in and it overtakes him, shaking with mirth under Eddie while Eddie smiles along with him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve says, once he’s gotten his breath back.

“I’m just putting it out there,” Eddie says.

Steve cocks one eyebrow at Eddie and turns back to his magazine with a smirk. “Uh huh. Well, I’m a little busy right now.”

“Oh, sure, me too,” Eddie says easily, bringing his book up over his face as if he’s going to continue reading, even though he isn’t even sure he’s on the right page.

They do settle after that, though, quiet and close and comfortable being draped over and under one another. Steve’s hand finds its way into Eddie’s hair and cards through it absently like he’s petting a cat. Eddie would probably purr like one if he could.

“Love you,” Steve murmurs, glancing down as he flips from one page to the next.

“Love you, too,” Eddie replies, tilting his book away just enough to smile up at Steve.

Maybe later Eddie will get to prove how much he loves Steve’s thighs wrapped around his head. Maybe not. For now, though, he hadn’t been lying – just this is perfect.

[Prompt: Resting your head on your partner's lap]

[frownyalfred]

dick bulking up to be batman, jason bulking down to be nightwing

damian: this is unnecessary

tim: yeah, jason why don't /you_-

damian: the simplest solution is to transform me into an older version of myself and I can take on the mantle

tim:......

That also brings up such a funny scenario where Dick is bulking to be Batman (eating surplus calories, tons of protein, working out constantly with tons of strength training) and Jason is cutting to be Nightwing (minor caloric restriction, lean proteins, working out but it's HIIT and calisthenics) and they're both miserable for opposite reasons.

Jason: my hard-earned muscles :/

Dick: I can't reach my own back in the shower anymore :(

[grendel-menz]

a diary of my diagnosis and treatment coming out in may

[unhetalia]

I think Nations are generally stronger than the average human. If an adult male can carry up to 80kgs without too much difficulty, a fully grown Nation can do around 3x that amount, no matter their gender.

Alfred is an abberation in that he could carry animals that weigh at LEAST 400kg as a child. This has nothing to do with the US' status as a superpower because it's been that way since he was a child (and also because my headcanon doesn't connect the Nations with their countries in that way).

Without delving too deep as to why, I've always liked the idea of Alfred's increased strength coming with a few caveats -

1) As he's gotten older, his strength has acquired limitations it never had when he was a child - the main one being that using it requires energy. If he wants to be able to lift a car, he absolutely can, but he needs to eat a lot, otherwise his blood sugar will crash. Alfred eats a lot and constantly, and this is part of the reason (the other part is that food is delicious).

2) Alfred is so used to relying on his strength, it's become his weakness without him even realising it.

Alfred views exercise the same way most modern humans view it: he exercises to stay healthy. He hikes, he bikes, he plays sports, and if he thinks he's gained weight he promises himself he'll go to the gym (he doesn't).

Nations like Arthur, Ivan, Erzsebet and Gilbert - to name a few - who don't have super strength, hone their bodies into weapons with purpose. I love to imagine (for many reasons) a sweaty Arthur, hands wrapped in boxing gauze and wearing a tank top ... erm. Punching stuff. I distracted myself there. ANYWAY. They're incredibly disciplined about maintaining their skills and fitness.

Alfred is reliant on his super strength. If it disappears one day, he's actually a lot less capable of defending himself than he thinks.

[fromtheseventhhell]

Imagine being 9 years old and asking your dad about the things you're interested in doing when you grow up and he's like "No ❤️! But you can get married, have babies, and then maybe your sons can do those things ☺️🫶 "

[britcision]

Regular reminder that sudden and severe weight loss is a pretty serious sign that something is very, very wrong

[shesmore-shoebill]

I think the Amanda Arasha combination is especially effective because they do have differing opinions on a number of things, but Arasha is also largely unafraid to actually disagree/pushback on things (in a very good natured, thoughtful, usually well articulated way) without taking it personally. Which, I think is especially fun/good with Amanda, who tends to have strong opinions and expresses them very. powerfully. And I love her for it, but the discussion definitely gets even better when someone like Arasha is willing to push back or call out the comedy of certain personal opinions/subjective viewpoints, and still have a good time overall.

[ruelpsen]

Fuck it, I'm going to go out and say it: while I often enjoy being teased on here, a fair portion of what I receive irritates me as it's misguided at best and reeks deeply of unlearned, malicious fatphobia at its worst. Yes I want to be fatter but I'm not fat. I am a 140-lbs/63.5-kg twink despite all my efforts to gain weight. I'm not stick thin, sure, but I'm sure as hell not fat either. So why are some people insistent on calling me fat/huge/big? Are actual fat people too much for you (perhaps even in spite of you being a self-professed FA)? Is your idea of fatness grounded in equating 'not even that chubby' with 'fat' while not even being attracted to people who are actually fat? Do you solely find bloated skinny guys hot while still saying you like fat people? Or are you not attracted to fat people at all and here simply to take your fatphobia out on the people closest to your image of ideal thinness, who you'd be more openly attracted to if they lost 10-20 pounds, all while still scoffing at or ignoring the fat people at the heart of these communities?

Some of y'all really need to do better. Either own up to your love of people who are actually fat (which may entail adjusting your understanding of what fatness is), clean up your nomenclature, or don't be here. Yes unlearning biases like fatphobia takes time and effort, but your choices really are more or less that simple.

[bitchesgetriches]

Bitches I need some advice.

I'm fat, okay? I'm not ashamed about it. It just... Is. I'm fat.

Being fat is also fucking me up. It's causing me sleep problems, it's fucking my joints, I can't walk as far as I used to, I haven't run in years.

I want to lose weight. Not for anyone else. For me. I want to be fit again.

I'm surrounded by people telling me I'm "not fat" and need to "love myself like I am". I'm 210lb and 5'3". Ya girl is fat. And I'm okay with that it's not a bad word. I love myself. But I also love the things I used to be able to do when I was fitter. It's just really fucking hard.

I've got zero support left and right. And I don't know what to do. I know this isn't your area of expertise, but you're such great internet mamas that maybe you can help.

My darling child, we are SO humbled that you came to us with this. And while this isn't an area of our OFFICIAL expertise... weight and athleticism is something that I, Piggy, personally think a lot about! So let me see if I can offer some support to you, my beloved fat child.

By way of background: I have never been fat. Heavier than I want currently, but not fat. So I don't completely understand what you're going through. I have always been an athlete of one sort or the other. But more than that, I have always had the privilege of being relatively skinny without trying. At peak fitness I was running and rock climbing and doing all the stretchy and weight-trainy stuff. I was 5'5" and 130 lbs of jacked Bitch.

I am also a proud Italian American woman, which means that after 30 genetics decreed that I start putting on weight and rounding out and coming into my full Zia-ness. I'm currently 155 lbs. and running/climbing/stretching/jumping about/weight training is getting harder and harder. And that's frustrating to me.

Fat is not a bad word, merely a descriptor. So I'mma use it just as you have! I'm proud that you are prioritizing your health and ability to do what you love over losing weight for the sake of just being smaller. Because let's be clear: weight and health do not necessarily go hand in hand. If your goal is to improve your sleep quality, energy levels, and joint pain, then you should focus on activities that will work directly on those issues. Maybe that'll lead to weight loss--maybe not!

A lot of the medical establishment is cruel to fat people, so I'd be cautious about approaching this with your doctor. But you SHOULD get medical guidance before embarking on any kind of physical change. If your doctor says "Well, just lose weight through diet and exercise!" then you might want to look for a new doctor. If they instead offer practical solutions for incremental improvement, then great.

One of my favorite athletes is The Mirnavator. She's a fat marathon runner and offers a lot of information on how to start walking more and running as a fat person. I think she'll be a good role model for you as she focuses a lot on energy and joint health.

Also, you should check out Aubrey Gordon's blog Your Fat Friend and her podcast with Michael Hobbes, Maintenance Phase. She's also got some great books out! She's a fat expert on weight loss and diet culture. And her insights into healthy nutrition and body image are amazing. Her data-based approach will help you avoid the extreme dieting and weight loss trends that can hurt your health. Plus she's funny as fuck.

Lastly I will just say that mental health is tied to physical health. You're bummed about not doing the things you use to be able to do... and that probably makes it a lot harder to change! Acknowledge any depression or anxiety you feel about being fat and give yourself compassion. Start small and do what feels good.

Now here are two VERY old articles I wrote when I knew less about fatness. I think they still have a little bit to offer, though:

Why You Probably Don't Need That Gym Membership

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money 

Any fat members of Bitch Nation who want to weigh in? Uh... pun not intended.

[stonerexicfaery]

[nick-close]

Idk why when it comes to Glenn people forget about the generational trauma aspect of the podcast entirely. Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to like him- but people act like he acts this way because he was just. Born a bad person. Chose to be that way. But for Henry or Ron, because they face a much more direct form of abuse it’s easy to spot- and the way it affected them is ironically more palatable for people.

Idk, people can’t stand the idea that trauma makes you a worse person sometimes. Sometimes you don’t get a fear of expressing anger, or people pleasing, or awkward and funny misinterpretations. Sometimes you just avoid being vulnerable or accountable and end up childish. Hell, we see this with the s2 dads sometimes too. If Sparrow ended up like this, it isn’t because his dad did everything right and he decided to fuck it all up. Shit happened!!! There’s always a cycle!!!

[frownyalfred]

I’m VINDICATED by the Reacher actor saying he was around 240 lbs at 6’4 because 1) I have been modeling Jason’s physique after him in my head ever since last month and 2) SO many people have commented on my pull-up batfamily fic saying there’s no way Jason could possibly be that heavy.

Yes he can! Muscle is insane! Add some armor and the dude is gonna be hefty.

[snobgoblin]

ok so something I noticed that nobody cares about probably that I think is super cool

ok so 2-D has a bit of belly right u can see it sometimes

but in phase 3, he was starved, so he lost it. this continued into phase 4

BUT PHASE 7!! the belly is back :]]]

hes ok!! :]]]] recovery and continuity and all that or something