#body image issues

[lovveclub]

my newest way to cope with body image issues is repeating:

it’s a natural body doing natural body things

it’s a natural body doing natural body things

it’s a natural body doing natural body things

[mistysblueboxstuff]

If you're wondering why so many millennials struggle with body image issues, let me tell you about that one time my mum took me to an otolaryngologist bc of my chronic sinus problems due to a deviated septum and this middle age doctor guy starts talking about how i should get the surgery cos they could also make my nose smaller and prettier in the process, then he proceeds to pin my ears back saying how if i fixed those too I'd "have a completely different face"

stormed out of the office crying, leaving my poor mum confused and embarrassed

I was 12

Sure i was called "Dumbo", "Pinocchio", a witch, a hen etc but by kids, it kinda hits different when it's an actual adult stranger

anyway this is how you get a super self-conscious kid who grows up into a super self-conscious adult constantly wondering if they should go outside cos they don't wanna offend the world by submitting it to their hideousness lol

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

A Night of Firsts

In which you, dear reader, are the object of a certain druid's desires and agree to meet him for a night of passion...it also happens to be your first time. NSFW

You’re so nervous as you walk through the woods.

What if he hates what he sees? What if I’m awful? What if—

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sight of the man who had asked you to meet him---the tall druid with the kind heart. Leaning against a tree, you noticed the very large muscles in his arms seemed tense. Is he nervous? Surely not? He’s older than you’ll ever be, and surely…

“Forgive me.” He offered a rueful smile as he turned to face you. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show.”

You were taken aback by his words. Didn’t think I’d show up? For him? “I-I wouldn’t dream of it.” You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying desperately not to appear just as nervous as he is. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, Halsin.”

He holds up his hand and smiles ruefully. “Oh! I didn’t mean to imply you’re late. Tis a beautiful night.” Chuckling, he looks apologetic. “Forgive me once more, my dear. It’s been some time since I’ve been with a lover.”

Before you have time to think, to consider what words you would say next, they tumble out of you. “Well, I’ve never even had one!”

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

OH GODS!

Why did I say that?!

Halsin, thankfully unaware that you wish the earth so he loves would swallow you whole, stares at you with his mouth agape. “You…truly? It’s not that it’s a bad thing, mind you. I’m simply surprised. Surely there are those in the city who have…” He chuckles again, and you cannot help but notice how seemingly boyish he looks in that moment. “No. Maybe it’s your choice, and it’s—”

“Not by choice.” You say quietly, looking down at the ground. You remember all the times your affections were rejected---both gently and not---and your heart breaks a little. Sometimes it was as pleasant as it could be. Sometimes it was awful. Other times, though, you were told that no one would ever love a woman of your size. “No one chooses to fuck a fatty” was what the last one said to me. You did not realize you were crying until a rough, calloused thumb touched your cheek.

“My heart, let me dry your tears.” He gently wiped away the tears with one hand, while the other rested on your waist. “You are loved…and desired. Very much so.” As your eyes met his, you felt reassured by his warm smile. “I will be gentle of course. I want this to be—”

You cannot help yourself. “Just as nature intended?” You grin, your nose wrinkling just a little.

He barks a laugh. “I was going to say, ‘wonderful for you’ but sure, my heart, that works too.” His other hand fell to the other side of your waist, and he squeezed gently. “So beautiful. I am honored to be your first, dear one.” His large hands traveled up and down your sides, only the thin fabric of your nightshirt between his touch and your skin. “You’re so soft and inviting…” He stepped back and within a moment his clothes were off.

Oh.

OH.

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

You could not help but wet your lips upon seeing him.

He is so big. Everything about him is big. His heart. His kindness. His gentleness.

HIS HUGE COCK.

“Cat got your tongue, my heart?” Halsin teased, stepping back towards you, his massive hands on your shoulders.

“More like a bear, love.” You hesitate for a moment, trying to gather the courage to remove your own clothes. What if he—

He placed a gentle kiss on your head. “Take your time. We’ve no rush.”

Oh, you sweet, wonderful bear elf man. You hesitate for a second before speaking. “I-it’s not that. I’m just being silly…”

Enveloping you in his arms, he shook his head. “Whatever it is, it’s not silly or else you wouldn’t be so bothered, my heart. What troubles you?”

What’s been troubling me since I was a little girl. What troubles me every time I express interest in someone and get rejected. What troubles me when I feel the stares every time I eat. You close your eyes, screwing them shut. “I want this…want you more than anything…I-I’m sorry about how I look.”

“Why be sorry when you have nothing to be sorry for?” He buried his head in your hair, breathing in your scent. “You are the loveliest of nature’s creations.” His large hands roamed over your thin nightshirt. “And you feel…” Halsin moaned. “Incredible.”

With how close the two of you were, you could feel his enormous muscles and how hard he was. If he truly believes that I’m beautiful, then I should trust him. Believe him. Let him love me because gods do I want him. “So do you, Halsin.” You whisper, tentatively running your hands up his chest. Karlach said to be bold and brave in love, so I shall! Getting on the tips of your toes, you lean up to kiss him and wrap your arms around his neck.

As his lips meet yours, he grunts and lifts you off the ground slightly in a massive bear-like hug. OH MY GODS!!?!?! Though it ends as quickly as it began, you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest not out of nerves but because you never thought that would ever happen. “Gods,” you breathe, your generous bosom rising and falling rapidly. “I—”

He smirked a little, still holding you. “I take it you liked that then?”

If anyone doesn’t like that, then they should have their head examined. You chuckle, step back, and begin to pull off your nightshirt. Halsin licks his lips in anticipation, watching your every move. While you still feel self-conscious, Halsin’s presence does calm you slightly. The cool night air sends a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening due not only to the temperature but also your arousal.

Just as you are about to pull down your trousers, Halsin shakes his head. “Please, my heart. Allow me.” His voice is soft as he pushes your hands off the waistband. He hooks his very large fingers inside and ever so slowly pulls them and your smalls down. “Oak Father preserve me, such beauty!” You gasp as he gets on his knees, pulling your trousers and smalls past your big fat butt. He stops for a moment, his extremely large hands cupping your behind. “Nature made you so supple, so soft, my heart.” Spending a few moments rubbing your ass, he places several kisses along your lower belly.

Gods, I’m burning up. He hasn’t done anything yet, and I’m already a quivering mess. You glance down at him and notice his hazel eyes glowing gold. “Love?”

He continues his ministrations, small growls escaping him. “The bear grows more wild every second. All because of you.” Halsin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I will not go into wildshape tonight. Not for your first time. There will be other nights…other nights when,” he groaned, burying his face in the curls at the apex of your thighs. “I can put a ‘cub’ or two in you.”

You blink. You did not think it was possible for you to be even more turned on, but somehow the druid managed it. You manage to get a squeak out as you unconsciously rub your thick thighs together.

Halsin chuckles. “Does that excite you, my heart? Your scent tells me yes. Your movements tell me yes.” His hands gripped her thighs as he pressed kisses to them. “But do you say?”

Taking yet another page from Karlach, you lean down and tilt his face up, “Fuck yeah.” DEFINITELY INTERESTED IN THAT. “Should I, erm…my pants…?”

He nods quickly. “Forgive me, of course. Let me,” he pulls your trousers all the way down, admiring you. You step out of them (finally) and are completely bare to him. And he likes this. Likes me. I can’t even believe it, but it’s true. You cannot help but blush, your arms crossing your ample chest. “You truly are nature’s most beautiful creation, my heart.” He clears his throat, still looking at you at a goddess. “Let’s lie down.”

When he’s in wildshape, then I’ll get my ass cacked in dirt and mud. Tonight however, it’s a bed. You smirk as you snap your fingers, and within moments, a king-size bed, surrounded by candles and lanterns, appears in the forest. I’m a sorceress. This is child’s play.

Halsin begins to laugh and then pulls you into a hug. “Don’t fancy a romp on nature’s floor tonight, my love? Though I must say, this is quite romantic.” Kissing your head, he sighs happily. “Here’s hoping I can live up to it by giving you everything you deserve and more.”

You kiss his chest before sitting at the edge of the bed, slowly pushing yourself backwards up to a pile of fluffy pillows. “No matter what it will be, love.”

“That you have such confidence in me is reassuring.” He teases, grabbing his rock-hard cock and squeezing the tip slightly. “But before we begin, you need to know that all this,” he moaned as he ran his hand up and down his swollen length. “is because of you. You’re beautiful inside and out. So, so beautiful…” He murmurs and begins to crawl up to you. “When I look at you, I see a goddess of abundance---in kindness, heart, courage,” he pushes your thick thighs apart and stares hungrily at your throbbing cunt. He grips your thick, soft thighs, kneading them. “Softness…such sweet softness, my heart.” He looks at you expectantly.

You can only nod in return. You are seemingly unable to find your voice as he grins and then starts to utterly devour you. Without thinking, you begin to tug his hair. “Oh gods, I’m so—” You say quickly and loosening your grip.

“Pull if you wish, my heart. I don’t mind.” He chuckles, his hazel eyes full of mirth. He then returns to licking and sucking you, moaning loudly all the while. As for you, you cannot stop tugging on his long hair, the feel of his braids on your fingers somehow sexier than seeing them. Gods, Halsin… His hands squeeze your hips to prevent you from moving too much, and you not so secretly want him to hold your hips more often. It’s hot. Him touching me likes this makes me feel so sexy. So desirable. Never felt like this before.

“Hal-Halsin, fucking hells…” You manage to get out as one of your hands starts to knead one of your breasts. Want more. Want him all over me. In me. Any way I can have him.

He lifts his head slightly, the amused look still in his eyes. “That’s it. Good girl. Keep touching yourself. There’s a good girl.” As he dives back into your cunt, one of the hands on your hip travels to your lower belly.

The coil inside you seems to get tighter and tighter as his tongue laps at you, as he touches you, and as you touch yourself. And all too soon for you, the coil snaps and you thrust upwards into Halsin. You feel as if you black out for a moment or two, and when you come to, Halsin has the remnants of some of your spend on his lips.

“You taste sweeter than honey, dear one. I cannot wait to find out how you feel around me.” He leans over you, and you suddenly feel so small and I’m not small! Though no matter how imposing his size is, his expression is gentle. “I’m going to use a finger or two first, my heart. As you can see, I’m quite…large. I don’t want you to be in any pain. However,” he offered a toothy grin. “I think you’re wet enough for me.”

As one of his fingers enters you, you determine quite quickly that you are not prepared for even how large the finger is. You squirm and gasp, feeling so deliciously full from just one of his fingers. “Love, please…need more…”

“You’re sure you’re in any pain, my heart?” He asks, his nose nuzzling yours.

“No, just want more of you. Please.”

His lips gently kiss yours, a second finger now entering you. You moan wantonly as his inhumanly large and very sexy fingers stretch you. “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

FUCK YES! “Gods yes, please.” You beg, panting as he removes his fingers.

Within seconds, you can feel the blunt tip of his engorged member at your entrance. “I will go slow, my heart, and be gentle.” He seems like he’s more telling himself that than me. Oh Halsin, I trust you. Slowly, he moves inch by inch.

I believe Astarion would call this “exquisite torture.” It feels like he’s tearing me apart while I want more. More. More of him. Gods, please. You babble incoherently, ranging from praise to sweet nothings.

Loud grunts and honeyed words fall from Halsin’s lips as he finally is fully hilted inside you. You both moan at the same time, and you nod at him to continue.

He thrusts gently the first few times, but then he picks up the pace. His pelvis collides with yours, faster and faster.

“My love, come again for me. I know you can do it. I know you can.” He pants, his hazel eyes gazing into yours. “Be a good girl and come for me. Just one more time. You can do it.”

That is all you need as you scream your second release, and your vision turns white. You are vaguely aware of Halsin burying his head into your shoulder, his nails digging into your wide, soft hips. He comes yelling your name. You can feel his cock twitching inside you, his seed spilling in you. When he is finished, Halsin wraps his arms around you and rolls you both on your sides. One arm is snugly around your thick waist, while the other is caressing your cheek.

“Well, that was,” you smile softly. “amazing. Will it be like that every time, love?”

He chuckles. “If that is your desire, then yes. We still have so much to explore together, my heart. In fact,” his eyes turn golden as he grins. “should you desire it, more of myself would like to—”

Halsin does not finish the sentence.

You are already kissing him passionately.

It’s bear time.

And yes, I do desire it.

[yearningsaphic]

Does anyone else look in the mirror long enough and examine your features to the point where you start to get physically nauseous? Just me? Ok

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

Source: We’re Here: Conversations With Lesbian Women, by Angela Stewart-Park and Jules Cassidy

[magniloquent-raven]

I am once again plagued with thoughts that aren't 100% coherent so imma just ramble for a bit, pls gather 'round for some stuff about Billy and body image issues cuz I'm in my feels rn.

Billy spends a lot of time staring at Nancy.

Enough that Tommy's noticed and he starts ribbing him about it. "That's one thing of Steve's you might want to stay away from," bitter and pointed. Enough that Jonathan Byers gives him the stink eye whenever he's within glaring distance. Enough that a handful of the more desperate chicks still high off the fumes of his New Kid smell have started dressing like fucking librarians in hopes of catching his eye.

He doesn't give a shit about any of it, if anything the rumour mill is helping him out for once. Less work involved in keeping up appearances if everyone just assumes he isn't sleeping around because he's too busy sniffing Wheeler's granny panties.

As long as no one guesses the real reason, it's fine. It's fucking peachy. It's one silver lining in this shitstorm of a situation.

He's so tired of his eyes inevitably being drawn to her barely-there tits and tiny waist. Every time he's bored at lunch, his gaze wanders. When he's in the library pretending to study, there she fucking is, even smaller when she's hunched over a pile of cue cards.

The longer he looks at her the more sure he is that Steve will never really want him.

Steve's slept with plenty of girls. A variety of girls. He probably couldn't afford to be too picky in this shitty little town. But he's only fallen in love once. One time. The only time it mattered what he was sticking his dick in was when it was in Nancy Wheeler.

And Billy...will never be her. Not even close.

He'll only ever be a warm mouth and a convenient hand, he'll never matter.

She's flat, and thin. Willowy, narrow-shouldered. Petite. Inches shorter than him and nearly half as broad. Thin fingers and delicate wrists. She fit comfortably under Steve's arm, she could nestle safely into his side.

And it was all so fucking easy for her. She never had to try.

She never had to piss off her dad so she'd be forced to skip meals. She never did laps around her neighbourhood until she was lightheaded and doubled over, dry-heaving in someone's hedge. She was never forced to sign up for baseball as a child, poked and prodded and guilted into it because a couple shirts were starting to get tight across the stomach, and being a momma's boy was bad enough, being a fat, lazy piece of shit too was unacceptable.

He used to think he'd done well, maintaining the physique he has. He's worked hard for it. Scraping together his savings for a weight set and keeping careful track of his calorie intake and never skipping a single fucking day of exercise, hangovers and broken bones be damned. And it's fucking useful, truth be told. More than keeping away the echo of old insults bouncing around in his head, it's made flirting that much easier.

But the more he looks at Nancy Wheeler, the more he hates the things he can't change. It gets into his head. Digs in deep, leaving scars on its way down.

He thinks Steve might've noticed.

He knows Steve has heard the stupid rumours about Wheeler, and probably chalked it up to Billy being an asshole, as usual. But it's harder to explain away his sudden tendency to go extremely still whenever Steve puts his hands anywhere on his torso. A palm pressed to his chest, slipped under his shirt, or fingertips digging into his back, or a casual fucking pat on the shoulder—whatever it is, he can't help freezing up, if only for a second, a sick feeling twisting his stomach, cold and shameful and clawing at his lungs.

And then, eventually, they argue.

It's over nothing. And everything. Billy can't explain what his fucking damage is, and Steve can't stop needling in the wrong places. They scream at each other until their throats are raw and Billy leaves when his knuckles start to itch.

He cries all the way home and doesn't eat for four days. Not on purpose. Not consciously. He's just. Fucking. Busy. He's busy. He's always gotta drive Max somewhere or dodge Neil's thinly veiled threats or lock himself in his room when bile starts to bubble up in the back of his throat and his head pounds and he doesn't think about why he's snapping at everyone constantly, he just pounds back a couple beers and goes to sleep. And then it's four days later, and he's flying off the handle at Neil, too sluggish and lightheaded to see the hit coming, and...

Steve comes to see him at the hospital. He hasn't told anyone anything but they've got him hooked up to a banana bag and the nurses keep making sad eyes at him when they come to check his stitches.

He hates it, sitting around doing nothing, being closely monitored every fucking second, it make his skin crawl, and he hates it even more when Steve's standing in the doorway looking at him.

Not for the first time, he's overwhelmed wondering what exactly Steve sees.

He's a fucking mess right now. Greasy hair tangled at the back, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his gross papery hospital gown, one eye swollen shut and a dark tangle of thread holding his eyebrow together. It feels stupid to get stressed about all the shit that usually bothers him when there's so many other things to worry about, but he still finds himself shifting in place, hunching his shoulders, hiding his hands in the crooks of his elbows.

It's sort of a disaster. Worse than last time they saw each other. Billy's not in the mood for Steve's apologies and Steve's at a loss for what else to say.

They don't see each other again for months. Steve graduates. Billy avoids anywhere he thinks Steve might be, and lies awake at night haunted by stolen touches.

He catches a glimpse of Steve through the red haze of storm clouds and cold lightning, tears blurring his vision, the Mind Flayer wearing him like a suit. Their cars collide, and everything whites out for a second.

He's in the hospital again when they finally talk. Billy rolls his eyes at "We've gotta stop meeting like this," and tries not to think about last time he was here. Steve seems more than willing to ignore it. Move forward. Guess demonic possession puts some things into a different perspective.

When Billy's released from the hospital he's seventeen pounds heavier than he was a few months ago. Every time the nurses did their check-ups and put him on the scale they'd pat his elbow, smiling encouragingly, telling him how good he was doing while he watched his stomach get softer, his biceps get less defined, watched himself disappear beneath a layer of fat.

The first thing he does when he gets home is throw up.

He doesn't make it happen. It just happens. And he blames it on the meds they have him on. It's a plausible enough reason, and it means he doesn't have to interrogate the tiny spark of satisfaction he got from losing his lunch.

His second day back home Neil asks him when he's going to start exercising again. His expression is pinched. Cold. His eyes are ice chips freezing Billy's skin wherever they touch, lingering on the softness under his chin, and where the hem of his sleeve pinches his skin.

He pushes his dinner away and grits out an answer from between clenched teeth.

He doesn't need the reminder that he's gotten weak while he was trapped in a hospital bed, but Neil gives it to him anyways. Tells him all about everything he should do to get things back to normal. Push past the pain. Work harder. He tunes it out after a while, and watches grease congeal on his meatloaf.

Eddie Munson is the first person to bring up the things Billy's never known how to talk about.

They started hanging out after Billy's most recent brush with death. Billy's not sure exactly how the got here, from buying the occasional painkiller and letting the guy wax poetic about his dumb band, to spending weekends getting high together at the trailer park. But as weird things in his life go, it's barely worth questioning.

This particular conversation starts with Chrissy Cunningham.

Specifically, Eddie's massive boner for her.

Billy's been noticing it for a while. He hasn't been letting it bother him.

He hasn't.

Maybe he likes the way Eddie smiles at him when they pass a joint back and forth, lazily stretched out and wearing three less layers than usual, and maybe he thinks about closing the distance between them when Eddie offers to shotgun, but it doesn't fucking matter. Just like it doesn't matter that Steve hasn't touched him since before the Mind Flayer and things are fucking weird now that they're on speaking terms again. None of it matters, he's just a fucking idiot.

Because Steve and his new best friend Robin are attached at the hip lately and everyone can see where that's going, and Eddie won't stop talking about tiny, pretty, perfect fucking Chrissy and her stupid ponytail.

And Billy...Billy gets winded walking up the porch steps at his house now. And he pulled a muscle in his back trying to lift half the weight he used to press. And last week he burned three pairs of jeans in the backyard because he kept grabbing them out of his laundry pile, not realizing they don't fit anymore until he was struggling to pull them up past his knees.

He's lost the one thing people used to actually like about him. Never the people he wanted, he was never enough for that, but it was something. Now he's just...

Now he's just listening to a guy he likes talk about some goddamn cheerleader like she personally hung the moon just for him.

And he's drunk. They're both drunk. Eddie in a soppy, embarrassing way, with a sparkle in his eye and a flush on his cheeks, an arm across the back of the couch, outstretched far enough that the tips of his fingers almost brush Billy's shoulder.

He wants to move closer. Thinks about shuffling into Eddie's space, curling into the warmth at his side. But it twists in his guts, sours, sickens—he couldn't, he can't. And he hates himself for wanting to.

"What do you see in her?" spills out of his mouth, bitter on his tongue and sharpened by anger he has no right to feel.

She's pretty. He expects it. She's pretty, she's perfect. She's a fucking angel even though her and Eddie only know each other because she buys drugs off of him. But she can do no wrong because she looks like a little china doll with sad eyes and everyone would be devastated if a single hair on her tiny delicate head was harmed.

Eddie only looks thrown off for a second. A moment. But he shrugs it off, leans his head back against the couch cushions and grins at the ceiling. "She likes my music."

Since fucking when.

"So, what, it's just an ego stroking thing then."

"Nah, man. I mean. Like. She's got this whole good-girl thing going on, but you should see her when I pull out my guitar, it's fuckin'...magic. When she lets herself just. Live." He wiggles his fingers in the air, arms spread, then drops them back down.

Billy's heart clenches, squeezes. It hurts and he doesn't know why. "Bullshit."

"Nah, nah. Seriously. The guy she's dating is a fucking asshole. And her mom..." he trails off, and rubs his eye. "She's just got all this pressure to be perfect, act a certain way, look a certain way, be a certain way, and I hate seeing what it does to her, man. I hate it. No one should have to deal with all that. So. I dunno. I like helping her cut loose. Sorta, find herself, I guess." He cracks a crooked smile, casting a glance in Billy's direction.

And his smile drops.

"Billy?" He sits up, cautious, eyebrows up and his eyes wide.

Billy turns away, shocked into motion, wiping at his face with his sleeve. "I'm fine. Fuck off."

He didn't notice he was crying until Eddie looked at him like he'd seen a ghost.

"Yeah, obviously."

"Fuck you."

Eddie doesn't get much more out of him that night. But he starts watching Billy like a hawk after that. Checking in on him at random. Calling if they haven't seen each other in a few days. It should be irritating as fuck, and he acts like it is, but he still basks in the attention.

Doesn't hurt that it seems to annoy Steve to no end.

Especially doesn't hurt when, in a fit of apparent jealousy, Steve shoves Billy into a wall and kisses him like his life depends on it.

The hurt comes when Steve starts to unbutton Billy's shirt and Billy reflexively shoves him away, when he wants to keep going but wants it to stop and can't tell Steve either of those things because he doesn't have the words.

So he gets angry. At Steve, for pushing it, crossing lines he can't even see. But mostly at himself, because it might be easier than standing there heartbroken but he knows it's the worst thing he could do.

And at Steve, again, when the he doesn't respond the way he should. Doesn't punish Billy for doing the wrong thing, reacting wrong, being wrong. He doesn't withdraw and save himself, he tries to understand, tries to talk it out, like this is something Billy can just say out loud and it'll all be fixed.

He doesn't explain. Not that day. But he lets Steve hold him while he cries, ugly gasping sobs into the front of Steve's shirt, curled up in his lap, collapsed on the floor and tangled together. Because despite everything he's told himself, he does fit comfortably in Steve's arms.

💜tag list ppl💜 @spreckle @growup-thatbeautiful @prettyboy-like-you @suddenlyinlove

[artofkhaos404]

Wouldn't it be such a shift of perspective for fatphobes if they could see what goes on in our daily lives as plus sized people?

I'm over here trying to convince myself it's okay to eat lunch and that I don't have to hide my food from my family members. My 120lb home girl? She just had pasta, a hot dog, a piece of bread and half of a bagel.

WHERE DO YOU SKINNY FOLK PUT IT ALL?!

[honeypleasejustkillme]

[cult-of-the-eye]

how do we feel about flesh avatar martin k blackwood, who is both the epitome and direct refusal of dysphoria and body image issues?

[spoofymcgee]

sometimes, i stand in front of the mirror before getting in the shower and i just think 'god. this body is so beautiful.'

i haven't always thought so. there have been innumerable times where i looked and wondered whose face that could possibly be, because i was sure it wasn't mine.

my hair was too frizzy, sometimes, my shoulders too wide, my head too small. why did my stomach move like that, stick out above my waistband and ruin the line of my body.

there have been late nights where i would stare at the ceiling while i showered, desperate to be clean and just as desperate not to live inside this skin. dressing rooms of stores where the waistband wouldn't fit past my thighs. coats pulled on in a rush after a long summer of sitting in storage that no longer fit.

other times, where my favorite pair of jeans were suddenly too big, where shirts and dresses hung loose and strange.

i don't know if that will happen again. bodies change and we don't get to control how.

but for now.

i stand in front of the mirror.

the rolls on my back are the same ones my mother had. when we were very small and would ask about her body, she told us that she loved her body, because it had made us.

the crinkle of my eyes is mirrored in my brother and the way he laughs, high spirited and so very carefree with every emotion.

the way my chin textures and my eyes puff up when i cry is something i share with my sister, so i always know exactly how upset she is.

my stomach is soft and round. when i was smaller, and still, sometimes, when i get the chance, i curl up to my father on the sofa, leaning into his side while i read or play on my phone. his belly is big and soft and when i listen i can hear his heartbeat.

i have never had defined muscles. i can do thirty push ups in a row and take the groceries up one trip, but you cannot see it in the shape of my arms. not in my aunt's either, but when i was young i changed her contact name to 'nice hugs' because she gave the best ones.

my body is a patchwork quilt of the people i love, the people they loved, and every part of it has been loved and cared for and cherished before i had it. eyebrows and ears and fingers and rolls and folds and skin and fat and bone–there have been countless people who looked at these things and thought 'that's beautiful. this person i love is so, so beautiful.'

it is my body, but it has belonged to others before me and it is made up of so much love and care that it seeps out of my skin, like a tangible thing able to sink into the thoughts of too much and too little and not right and burst them apart from the inside out.

bodies come in all shapes and sizes. this is what i was told when i was young, whenever i asked. they are beautiful for that, but most of all they just exist. they can't be wrong. the truth is not wrong and it is not right–it simply exists.

they have been doing that since before anyone can remember. they will do that long after i am dead and gone. and along the way they will be loved, and i want to be the one doing some of the loving.

[traumatizeddfox]

i dont believe in hell but i know my body belongs there

[batmobilestires]

Jason went from being a lil lanky boy to a super buff man to what practically felt like overnight for him and there’s just no way that missing such an important stage of physical development didn’t negatively impact his body image. like imagine you’re just a kid and suddenly waking up feeling too big for your own body??

in desperate need of an angsty fanfic that explores Jason’s body image issues because of the Lazarus Pit!! and bonus points if there’s a happy ending with Bruce hugging Jason and telling him “he’ll never be too big to be his son” (im delusional)

[fandoms--fluff]

Hi requests for flufftober .

Can u do a fluff where the reader is plus size

And is in a relationship with klaus.

Can u make her Indian because being fat is looked down upon in India I am telling you this because I am Indian and I get fat shame d by my own family .

Can u please make her story same as mine where she goes through what I am going through and Klaus comforts her by kissing every inch of her body and leaving hickeys.

He also calls her beautiful.

If u are not ok with writing this or want to cut any part that u are not okay me .

U are free to do it .

Beautiful

Flufftober, October 2nd

Female reader x Klaus Mikaelson

Warnings: mentions of body hate/dysmorphia, mentions of being bullied

A/n: please don't read if you think it will affect your mental health, remember it's important!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're sat across from your soon to be husband, Klaus Mikaelson, the one and only original hybrid. You've been across town all day and made reservations for this fancy restaurant just out of New Orleans so no one could interupt you guys.

You guys have just ordered, unknowingly, your arms wrapped around your midsection, sort of acting as a shield so no one can see your stomach rolls. Even in the stunning black midi dress that you've felt confident in all day, you have actions you do unconsciously for being self conscious about your body.

Basically most of your life, people have either commented on your weight or looked at you with that look, you got that look through your teens the most. Especially considering you didn't look the same as everyone else, and that's good, you're your own person, until it comes to weight. Then apparently you're not good enough and looked down upon by other teens, adults, and even your own family.

You had a phone call with your mother the night before while Klaus was in the shower. Said phone call almost brought you to tears. At the start, you were having a good conversation with your mom, until she brought up how she went to the mall with her friends the other day. She spoke about how she saw the perfect wedding dress that you would love by all the photos of inspo you've shown her since your and Klaus' engagement. But then she said, 'if only you were tinier like your cousins, then maybe you could try and squeeze into the biggest size of the dress'. She went on and in about how the biggest size wasn't even big enough for you to even try to try on.

That hasn't been the worst conversation with your Mom in a longshot, but it still hurt. It hurt even more, knowing it was your own mother saying those things. Yes, you may not look the same as everyone else, but you've been trying to love your body just the way it is. But things like that obviously doesn't help your feelings or self esteem.

You feel something lay against your hand, snapping out if your thoughts, you looked up at Klaus, seeing his hand placed on top of yours. His thumb is softly rubbing up and down to side of your hand.

"Love? Are you alright? You spaced off for a moment there" Klaus softly smiles.

"Oh, um yeah, just thinkin. Nothing to worry about" you give a tight lip smile.

Klaus nods, keeping in his head about your stranger-than-normal attitude, but it's not a bad thing, it's just concerning to him.

You guys get home from the restaurant around 10pm, everyone's either out or has fallen asleep super early.

You're standing in front of the mirror in your guys' room. You haven't changed out of your dress yet, instead staring at every part of your body that you're insecure about. There hasn't been any way to stop you from doing this. You would try, but then end up close to tears or crying in front of a mirror. The worst times this has happened has been in a changing room at stores.

That's what you thought, before Klaus steps back into the room.

He pauses his movements, seeing you frowning in front of the mirror, sucking your stomach in as much as you can. You look over to him, eyes widening. Klaus just caught you doing one of the only things you never wanted him to know that you do.

"Klaus, this is not what you think this is, I'm just..." you start, not knowing what to say, you trail off.

Klaus walks over to you and cups your face in his hands. "Love, you can tell me the truth, you always can" he tells you, having a senaking suspicion of what's going on, but wants you tell him on your terms.

He leads you over to the bed, sitting down with his hand resting on your thigh. You take a couple deep breathes, "I'm too big. I wish I was skinny, I've wished that since the first time someone ever brought up how I look different than everyone else. I've hated my body for over a decade, my mom was probably the worst thing about it. She would always tell me how I was fat without thinking twice. And she never understood and still doesn't how that makes someone feel, especially a teenage girl who's already miserable everytime she has to take foot in a high school where everyone says even worse things some how" you rant to your fiance, tears streaming down your face. "I hate my body so much" you whisper.

Klaus immediately pulls you in to his arms. He kisses the top of your head multiple times. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through this, and still do?" You nod your head. "You are perfect how you are. You should never compare yourself to others or listen to what others say you should look like." Klaus lists off.

"I love you so much, you're so perfect, and gorgeous the way you are. You should never think different" Klaus pulls away, looking at you with emotion in his eyes.

"R-really? I love you too. N-no one has ever said that. I've grown up hating myself" you whimper.

"Everything I said is true, and you should never hate yourself, being who you are now is everything to me" he slowly lays you down onto your back.

"And I will make sure you know this every day" he murmurs as he trails his lips all over your face and down your neck. He presses kisses all down your exposed collarbone and chest.

He keeps going all the way down, kissing your fabric covered stomach and waist, and hips. He goes down to your ankles, until kissing the top of your feet gently.

"You love, are so beautiful" he whispers into your ear. You cuddle into his suit covered chest with a slight smile on your face.

"You're the one person I feel safest with. Thank you so much. I love you Klaus" you look up at him. "I will always be here for you, I love you too, beautiful" he kisses your forehead and holds your hand.

[hotcat37]

Janace and 21 :D (to write a kiss thing)

two more and I've finished all the kiss asks 💪💪

21: on a place of insecurity

It's a real shame that Nace doesn't see what Jan sees. Though he knows it's more complicated than Nace simply not finding himself attractive. Knows that this is the result of years of a bad self image and remarks from friends and strangers alike. Losing all that weight won't magically make those old insecurities vanish.

Nace never talks about it but Jan can see it in the way the other man always keeps his shirt on even when it's hot as balls. Or how he always declines to be in photos where they're expected to be half naked.

Jan only ever sees the brunette's torso in the pool or under the hot water of a shower. Because in those environments he really has no choice but to go shirtless. Even during sex, Nace covers himself.

The guitarist has never complained about it, though, only quietly admiring every chance he gets. The last thing he wants is to push Nace's boundaries, which is why he's slow and careful when he climbs on the bed upon noticing his lover lying there half asleep and miraculously without a shirt on.

"Hey, gorgeous." Jan rolls over until he's pressed up against Nace's side, mindful not to touch his bare torso unexpectedly.

Nace cracks one eye open to lazily gaze at the younger man. A slow smile spreads across his face and Jan can't help but lean in for a kiss. "Speak for yourself."

"What's a guy gotta do to get some ass around here?" He throws one leg over Nace's body, moving his hips to playfully hump his bandmate.

The bassist laughs at his boyfriend's antics, throwing an arm over his face. "Geez, take me to dinner first!"

"Oh, I will." Jan promises, then moves around until he's straddling Nace's lap. "Don't mind me cupping a feel first, though...."

"Go ahead." Despite the words, he still hides into his arm, body tensing noticeably when Jan's hands slide along his exposed lovehandles.

Jan is gentle and slow as he explores the soft flesh he lusts over every night. He keeps a hawk eye on Nace's reaction to the touches. There's some telltale signs the brunette has for when things are getting too much and he wants to make sure he catches them just in case. But despite the tension Nace does seem okay with the touching, only starting to gnaw at his bottom lip when Jan's fingers trail over the stretch marks across his tummy.

He pauses for a moment, giving Nace a minute to collect his thoughts, waiting until the bassist stops biting his lip and visibly relaxes before lowering his head. Jan presses kisses to the marks, feeling the skin under his lips quiver as Nace shudders. He presses one to each and every little line stretched across the other man's body, until Nace stops shaking and no longer hides his face.

When Jan looks up, his lover's face is beet red. But more notably, there's a shy smile tugging at his lips, and the guitarist doesn't stop the urge to lean in for another kiss.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Body

Agi knows it's wrong, but she can't help but think there's another reason why Astarion doesn't want to have sex.

She knew she was being silly.

She knew it.

The celibacy she and Astarion now shared, while going extremely well, left her with a terrible, lingering thought---by him admitting that he had bedded not the most beautiful people sometimes and it disgusted him that it applied to her as well. Love the heart and soul…just not the rest. Which I know…I know…deep down isn’t true. But this isn’t about me or my stupid, silly, awful issues, it’s about him. His healing. His comfort. Anything. Everything. For him.

Agnetha was taken out of her thoughts by the man himself, his lithe silhouette against the flaps of her tent.

“Oh! Hi, I, erm…wasn’t expecting you.” Fuck my life. Why did you say that?!

He immediately tensed. “I’ve been coming every evening since we chatted. Is this not what you want? I can go—”

Get it together, Agi. “No! No! Oh my gods, no. I…” She trailed off as he entered the tent, his expression puzzled with a healthy dose of worry. “Thinking too much.”

“About what? I swear, if Shadowheart and Lae’zel disturb you one more time with their inane prattle, I’ll drain them dry.” Ah yes, there’s the attractive yet completely murderous look in his eyes. Just tell him. He won’t be mad, right? His fists were clenched at his narrow hips.

She raised her hands. “No, it’s not that. It’s definitely not that. It’s honestly really stupid.” And I’m being stupid.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, his hands now on his hips. “If it’s truly that stupid, darling, then why not tell me?” He moved to her bedroll and sat down, patting the spot next to him. His look was sincere, the smile now gracing his features genuine.

Trust him as he trusts me. Closing her eyes for a second, she took a deep breath and sat next to him, her long legs stretched out in front of her. “It’s because it’s about you. Well, us.”

“I-I see.” Ever so slightly, he leaned away from her, preparing for what he thought was the inevitable---that she wanted something he could not give at the moment and frankly, did not know if he could give it again.

“When you said you were disgusted by your targets,” she explained quietly, not bearing to even look at him. I’ll cry if I do. Oh fuck it, I already am. “and as you said, I was one of your targets in a way, so you…think I’m disgusting.” As he opened his mouth to protest, she reached for his hand. “No. Let me finish. And that’s why you asked for us to not have sex, which I know isn’t true. I know.” More tears fell down her pale, freckled cheeks. “I know.”

“If it’s not true, then why are you thinking it? Of course, that’s not why! You silly, silly goose! Come here, darling.” The tone at first was harsh but softened considerably after he noticed her lower lip quivering. Wrapping an arm around her thick waist, his other hand found hers. “Why on earth would you think something like that, sweetness?”

“Because I’m tall—”

“Statuesque!”

“Broad-shouldered—”

“Perfect—”

“You can guess what the last one is—”

Astarion grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek. The hand on her waist squeezed the softness under her top. “Voluptuous. Curvaceous. Thoroughly, deliciously plump. I could go on, darling.”

“I’ve been told to my face, on several occasions, that Mum can’t offer a dowry large enough to make a man marry me.” Far too many times. From suitors. From their families. From other noble houses of all races. “I’ve also been told that it’s too bad I’m fat because I have a nice face.” Gods help anyone who says that in earshot of Mum…or Astarion, because he looks like he’s about to commit several murders. “Love, please.”

“This further proves that I have excellent taste.” He sneered.

She could not help but smile at that. “Of course.”

He brought her hand to his lips, his ruby eyes meeting hers. “You are stunning, my love, and remember, if anyone ever says that to you again,” And there’s the look again! “I will simply devour them.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Or, you know, we could just not do that.” She shifted and pulled him into a hug. “I love you so much, but please no murder.” Because it’s bad obviously, but I imagine there’s a ton of paperwork as well. There always is.

He laughed. “Fine, fine! No murder for now.”

She laughed despite herself. “You are too much.” They shared a kiss before laying down on her bedroll (I miss my bed so fucking much) with Astarion insisting on spooning her. “You’re sure, love? I know you like it when I’m the big spoon.” She whispered, feeling him rest his chin on her shoulder while he sneaked a hand under her top. Ever since that night, he’s been a lot more affectionate in private, which has been a lovely surprise.

Astarion hummed in approval as he placed several kisses on her neck. The exact spot where he normally feeds. “My sweet, if I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be doing it. Now, let me make this crystal clear so we have no more misunderstandings---I have not nor will I ever lie to you about how beautiful you are. Every inch is perfection.” He gently caressed her belly, sighing into her shoulder. “When you hug me, I feel safe and warm and loved. I adore resting my head on your chest. I love touching you. Surely, you must know?” There was a pause. “Oh wait, you don’t notice anything.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss where he feeds. “My sweet little—”

“I am not little.” Agnetha snorted. “Not in any way. Not even when I was a child!”

“No wonder your birth mother died, darling. No one survives birthing an over six-foot-tall woman.” Astarion snarked, earning him a loud groan and eyeroll from his lover. “Tell me I’m wrong!”

“Ass. You’re not wrong if it ever happened, which it didn’t and will never.” She gave it to him right back, wiggling in his grip.

He tightened his hold on her, grinning. “So, what you’re saying is…I’m right.”

Asshole. “Yes, you’re bloody right, you naughty man.”

They lay in a comfortable silence for some time. As she began to drift to sleep, she expected him to leave.

He’s not leaving. He’s staying for the first time.

“You can go back to your tent if you want, love.”

“What I want,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “Is to stay right here. With you.” She nodded a little, sleep now claiming her. “Have the sweetest dreams for us, my darling girl. I’ll be here when you wake. I’ll always be here, I promise.”

She smiled a little as she said sleepily, “Love you.” Even if he’s not ready to say it back, I’ll always tell him. Always.

[notdelusionalatall]

i am pissed