#fat shaming tw

[dvorrak]

One man’s shame is the same man’s kink.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Why is lizzo posting those pics? She should start a diet.

I’m only answering this to make myself perfectly clear: you will not fucking fat shame or body shame a single person to me or on my page ever.

Get off the internet and put work into healing the drastic self-hatred that pushes you to find whatever dregs are left of your self-worth through anonymously insulting anyone who doesn’t fit the patriarchy’s definition of beauty. Please.

[mintmatcha]

that outfit would have gotten a million notes if you lost 60 pounds

true! but hurtful

[sins-of-the-sea]

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

"What on Earth?!!? Is that a police siren?!"

"No, that was Ebano being exceptionally loud."

"I just fed you ten minutes go!! Stop your screaming! You're going to get fat!"

'Well, what if I want to get fat? Have you thought of that?'

[squishykribbles]

thinking abt mutual humiliation. like. you're making me feel so bad. i've made a pig of myself. but also you look like that? hahahaha maybe we piss on each other

[queerbauten]

Of all of the faux-body-positive misconceptions to come out in the past ~15 years, “that pouch is literally your uterus” has got to be the most viscerally annoying

[metaladam]

" Glad you all wanna go for the fat bitches, means I'll have all the real beauties to myself."

[fizzarollitm]

smash or pass all of my muses minus cherri and loona | @bringsin

Angel Dust:

" Smash morning, day, and night. "

"We could put on one hell of an act too at Ozzie's. I bet we'd make a killing. "

Lilith:

" I love a woman in charge. If I was into them, smash, but for now I'll just give our King more respect than he deserves.

Between us two.

Eve

" Oh ! The one who bit the apple right ? Our ride used to feature her before the cease— nevermind. Pass on principle but she's a stunner. "

" Hope tall and beautiful treats her right though. "

Velvette

" Pass. I am not getting mixed up in the Vees. She'll put a cigarette out on my neck and call me fat. "

Harlot Morningstar

" Smash. Smash. Smash. "

" Good vibe too. Would would they wanna play at Ozzie's sometime ? "

[thingstotellthem]

You laugh at me, lie to me, scream at me for no reason, insult my mother, insult my work, fat shame me, steal my food, rearrange my stuff so I can’t find it, and then you have the goddamn nerve to cry to my parents and say that I’m the abusive one. I won’t go to your funeral in five years’ time because if I hear people talking about what a good person you were, I’ll puke. Never contact me again you old cunt.

.

[kiradical]

Really love people making assumptions about my life based on how I look and whatever their own personal trauma is.

Just had some dude tell me that “fat whales” like me are so narcissistic and full of ourselves. That I can’t get on a treadmill to save my life. As if I’m not fucking disabled, and still pretty active despite it. (Also making 🌽 is hard work? Hello?) Or that he “notices fat girls/bbws never date dudes as fat as us” and bro. Idk what to tell you but at least one of the people I’m interested in is bigger than me? Like…? What a weird assumption to make?

I’m sorry some fat girl rejected you, dude, but she wasn’t me, and honestly if this is how you act you probably deserved it.

[lylahammar]

Weight loss is a completely morally neutral personal choice that anyone can make for any reason, but if you choose to lose weight because you hate your fat body, please do the internal work to get over that internalized fatphobia before or during your weight loss efforts. I’ve seen far too many fat people become skinny and immediately turn their internalized fatphobia outwards, and it’s a bad time for everyone. If you have to keep the weight off through a strictly maintained diet and exercise, it’s pretty much inevitable that you will gain some weight back at some point in your life (likely more than you had in the first place if yo-yo dieting is in play), and you will find that all the hatred you projected at the fat community will come back to bite you in the ass with twice the power. Work on loving your fat self while you’re there, and if you choose to lose weight then work on continuing to love your old fat self. Life will feel much better for yourself and the fat people around you that way.

[pamgkrthwrites]

Imagine being Pro Hero Bakugou’s wife and falling pregnant. Neither of you want the world to know yet so you start wearing baggy clothes and going out less. But then some journalists calls you fat in one of his newest articles.

The next day, the public learns about how Bakugou tracked down the journalist, went to his office and beat the guy up. His PR team end up forcing you two to come out about you being pregnant and that’s why Bakugou was so mad.

[vxmpyree]

CHUBBY NIKTO. IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-.

chubby nikto my beloved :] <3 \\ tw: mention of fat shaming / fatphobia (not from reader)

[ pp1 - frakkur ]

chubby! nikto who likes baking for his neighbor.

after retirement, he packed up his things and flew somewhere balmy and quiet. after a life of running guns and slaughtering the enemy, he wants something simple-- a life where he doesn't need to comprehend the minds of others entirely.

when he moves in, you come over all smiles, a dish of banana bread in your hands. it hurts to admit, but he really does like it-- loves it, even. the dish is licked clean and then scrubbed by his shaky hands as he considers you.

nikto decides that he must bake you something in return. when he isn't busy, he's at the library, perusing through forums of recipes and printing out digitized cookbooks. he doesn't stop until he has a thick binder of ideas and the librarian starts giving him uneasy looks.

he comes to your doorstep one afternoon, your empty dish in one hand and a mississippi mud pie in the other. and he nervously retells the tale of how he indulged in your baking, expecting you to scowl and say that someone his size shouldn't enjoy eating. but you laugh, pleasantly, not meanly, and say that it's fine, really.

you let him into your warm home, and let him sit at your table, not knowing how blood is perpetually etched into his hands. you cut him a slice of his own pie and sit with him. the radio hums as he chews, and birds chirp over the slow trickle of thoughts in his mind. maybe moving somewhere warm really was a good idea.

[diejager]

Can you do a chubby reader? Asking for me 👉👈

Unconditional Cw: body shame, fluff, protective Gaz, self-hate, tell me if I missed any.

You often wondered to yourself why Kyle was still with you, someone unlikable, someone unfitting of the universal standards, someone so clumsy and so self-conscious —someone so fat. You weren’t like him, an adonis walking in the human world, his beautiful brown eyes, so warm and adoring, his smooth skin in the prettiest shade of chocolate that had you salivating and his smile, oh did it make you swoon, eager to drop on your knees for a man like him to give you a second of his attention.

Yet you wouldn’t have to beg for him, to drop to te ground with pleas when he already did it, whispering lovely things to you while he kept his eyes on you, never fleeting towards anyone else as if you were his whole world —you were. He loved you; he adored you, willing to do anything for a smidgen of your time, a small, tender smile of your pretty lips, the softness of your thighs and your warm body, always keeping him safe in the cool, winter times. He made sure to voice his devotion, speaking loudly and proudly how he loved you, unbothered by the venomous and envious stares of picture-perfect women with a model-like complexion. You held a piece of his heart as much as he had yours.

You told yourself that you were just lucky to find yourself someone so accepting, and he would tell you that this was fate, that he was bound to find you and fall head over heels for you despite your imperfections and queerness. He placed you on a pedestal that he was unwilling to let you move from, the shining star in his life, the gem in his eyes. He was chivalrous, a gentleman in today’s standards, treating you so well and confessing his love whenever he could. He took you out and fought to pay for you, reasoning that he was better paid than you and that he had to since he was the one who invited you (despite your exasperated complaints about wanting to repay him without depending on him soo much).

Perhaps that’s why your appreciation bloomed so brightly in your heart in moments like these, his beautiful face screwed in an offended frown, brows pinched and lips curled down. He showed his annoyance through small ticks: gritting his teeth, playing with his hands or jerking his foot beneath the table, but they were so small, inconsequential that most people ignored it for his pretty face.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” The woman - stranger - who’d approached your table looked like a model, a slim hourglass bodice, swaying breasts and round hips. She walked with confidence, her face curled with an air of sensuality and pride, so sure of herself when she had a perfect body.

Despite Kyle’s unamused expression, his eyes dulling, she fluttered her lashes, beating her long, doe extensions, expecting him to tell her what she wanted to hear. She’d probably been given everything she’s ever wanted, using her seductive appearance to garner attention and material with lower men, lonely and tired men, but Kyle Garrick was none of them, he was soft, he was gentle and he was sympathetic, much more human than people would give him credit for, for being a SAS soldier.

“Yes, sorry,” his tone was mellow, hiding well his distaste for her blatant ignorance of you, pushing you aside to make herself the center of his attention. She liked basking in attention. “I’m on a date.”

Her expression tore between shock and offensiveness, hardly containing her scoff when she glanced at you, chubby cheeks, round eyes and softer curves than her sharpness. Her narrowed eyes and little sneer made you flush in embarrassment, the shame boiling in your guts with a destructive self-consciousness about your weight and appearance. You avoided her gaze, preferring to stare at your fumbling hands, fingers knotting together in a mix of anxiety and hate. Kyle caught that.

“Are you-”

“I bloody am,” it was blunt, coldly snapping at her. It shocked the both of you, your demure boyfriend changed for something vicious and guarding. His usually comfortable and easily-approachable character became tall and imposing, someone you wouldn’t want to anger as he completely ignored her in favour of reaching out for you, taking your hands in his soft and warm ones. “Excuse us, but we have places to go.”

Rounding the table, he walked you out, arm wrapped around your pudgy stomach, the rolls plush under his hold, kneading your hip in soothing comfort. He leaned over to place a soft kiss on your forehead, smiling at your avoiding eyes, flushed and oh, so in love with the man you dated.

“Don’t worry, darling. You’re the only one in my eyes.”

He brushed away that pretty girl for you. It made your heart throb hotly, something warm weighing on your chest. It didn’t hurt, rather, it soothed your ache and fears, washing away the dark clouds of doubt and hate that hung over you.

Perhaps you truly were fated to be together.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[fancycroissantgothparty]

*Throws you off the snow sled*

[dionysianchub]

I've had this ongoing fantasy of being my office's communal pet pig. Everyone's blubbered up little toy to fatten, play with, and abuse to get their stress out and get through the day.

In the mornings come the sweets. Donuts, muffins, scones, and every sticky, sugary breakfast treat that can be carried in those familiar pink boxes gets delivered to my desk. People take turns shoving a few pastries in my mouth before wiping the sticky mess from their fingers onto my too-tight shirt, a couple of them give my belly a few firm slaps before heading to their desk to work. A few stay behind to watch me paw through the pastries, gorging myself as my chair creaks weakly as it struggles to support my growing weight. They have a betting pool going to see how much longer it can hold out.

At lunch time they come by with the unwanted scraps of their own meals, a few committed individuals packing full lunches just for the office pig. They marvel at my gluttony, treating me like the human garbage disposal I am, and watching in mixed pleasure and disgust as I eat everything they give me through heavy breaths and muffled burps. "Good job, fatass." they say, grabbing and shaking one of my overflowing rolls and watching my fat body ripple from the motion. A stray button flies off my shirt, and the person feeding me starts fingering the newly exposed gap in the fabric, prodding my plush blubber as they shove another large bite of food down my throat.

At the end of the day I'm waddling to get to my car, painfully stuffed and aroused from being used as everyone's tubby stress ball all day long, clothing barely hanging on, stretched over the too-full belly now hanging out the bottom of my shrinking shirt. And it's only Wednesday.