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mjolnirswriststrap · 3 months

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Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

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astarioffsimpmain · 3 months

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Unsolicited Affections (Part 1)

[Screenshots and Tav, Ban, by the lovely @brabblesblog]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; otherwise, floof (for now)

Synopsis: Your growing feelings for Halsin can no longer be ignored. Even so, that doesn't mean you don't try for your poor heart's sake. However, Halsin keeps bringing you closer, and you aren't sure how much longer you can take it without confessing... even though confessing is your worst fear.

Author's Note: Thank you so much to @brabblesblog for taking these screenshots and allowing me to use Ban in the header! For all readers, there will be a Part 2 to this fic and it will be the smut you all requested from the poll I took! This became a super duper indulgent fic for me, as I struggle with all of the insecurities the reader struggles with here. But I hope this little 2 part creation can act as a balm for anyone who has ever struggled with their bodily image, or wondered if they'd ever be seen as beautiful. This one's for you; for us. <3

Part 2 Here

The battle had been bloody. Grime and viscera was spread across each body, hair color lost in deep dyes of red in the wake of the victory. You and your companions trudged back to camp in silence; exhausted. You had failed to obtain what the battle had been fought for in the first place, and you were certain that your mood was soured for the rest of the evening. Upon reentering your campground, Gale was the first to greet you all, thankful to see that everyone was alive, albeit roughed up; obvious disappointment creased his features for a moment when you told him the news that you had failed to obtain the magical object you had set out for, but he hid it behind an understanding smile and ushered you to sit by the fire as he finished dinner.

You had reasoned that if the Netherese Orb in Gale's chest required the consumption of magic to remain stable, that the more powerful the object, the longer it would sate him. So you had taken a group and set out for the most powerful magical object in your direct vicinity - the Circlet of Blasting. You had recognized it the day previous on the head of a Drow with several of its companions near the Myconid colony in the Underdark. Once you found them again, you approached to inquire whether you could cough up enough gold to take it off their hands, but when they turned and pierced you with vicious red eyes that gleamed back at your group with a reflectiveness like a cat's, you knew gold would not satisfy them. And as they drew their daggers, you were proven correct, and the battle had begun.

You slumped over on the log next to the fire, too exhausted to properly stow your weight, as you removed your armor piece by piece. The second person to approach you carried a warm bowl of stew and placed it gently into your palms. The hands were tender and gentle, and much too large to belong to anyone but your favorite Archdruid. You raised your weary head to meet his beautiful bright green eyes, creased with worry, but soft with care as he lowered himself to the ground beside your legs, his muscular arm grazing the now-bare skin of your thigh as he adjusted. A flutter ran through your stomach at the contact, but you clamped down on it before you could get carried away. You knew his kindness was platonic. It had to be. Halsin was simply…kind.

The tell-tale signs of complicated and painful feelings had risen within your chest since rescuing Halsin from the goblins, and although you had tried to deny them, recently it had proven impossible. But while you finally admitted to yourself that you had fallen for his disarming smile, the scratch of his well-worn fingertips against your softer skin, and how passionately he cared about every living creature in nature, you refused to admit it to anyone else. You would be sparing yourself that embarrassment this time around. Your chest ached, remembering the many times you'd fallen for someone and approached them with this truth, only to be turned away over and over again. Inwardly, you snarled, blaming the extra plush your body carried for your lack of luck in love. Whether the objects of your affection had been kind, polite, or downright rude, there was always a moment in which their eyes would quickly rake your body up and down before delivering their blow. Perhaps they didn't even recognize that they did it, but you saw. You always saw.

So, while you knew Halsin would never be unkind to you, you had been trying to make peace with the very probable fact that he would only ever see you as a friend - never quite attractive enough to be anything more. It was something you were used to, but it never seemed to dull the throbbing pain in your heart whenever you thought on it too long. There was a part of you, somewhere deep, that knew you were not at fault; that knew you were not to blame; that perhaps if they had deigned to look beyond the surface for even a moment, that they would have seen how genuine your heart was, and how they never would have had to go without affection, love, or loyalty should they have chosen you. You weren't without this enlightenment, but the constant dissatisfaction of, or concern for, the body you carried from those around you - from well-meaning friends to pushy strangers - weighed heavy on your tired mind.

This moment around the fire was no exception, your burning desire to curl around Halsin's broad shoulders like a cat and purr was strong, but overshadowed by the fear of rejection. You had him near, but pulling him too close was to risk sending him far away, and you weren't sure you'd be able to stand it were that to occur. An icy shudder ran through you at the mere thought of Halsin retracting his warmth from your side. "- giving you a chill?" His dulcet voice pulled you back to reality like a line reeling you in, but you caught only his last few words.

"What?" You said, blinking as his image in your eyes grew sharper again. "Apologies, my mind was far away."

"No worries." He chuckled. "I merely asked if the night air was giving you a chill. You were shaking, my heart."

My heart.

You melted a little. The nickname was fairly new. The first time he had called you that had been two mornings prior, after a late start and a quick bath in the bioluminescent pools near your campsite in the Underdark. You had come trudging back to camp in clothes that were quickly dampening due to being pressed against your still wet skin, wringing your hair out ferociously as you tried to hurry to catch up with everyone else's progress. You had just started to wrench your boots up over your clinging pants when Halsin had approached you, laying a warm hand against your wet-stained shirt. You had startled, your head snapping up to his in a surprised daze.

"Slow down." He had said, running a soothing hand down your bent spine and back up, sending full bodied shocks through you like tidal waves. "You needn't worry, my heart. We will wait for you."

As the memory warmed your cheeks, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes, praying he couldn't see the thoughts lingering just inside the colors of your irises. "No, I'm alright. Just- just a bit weak from not eating all day. Thank you, for bringing me this." You finally acknowledged the bowl in your hands and raised it a little.

"Of course. Please, eat. I hear from the others that you had a rough skirmish. I implore you to let me check you over once you've finished your stew."

Ignoring the way your heart jumped dangerously near to your throat, you nodded silently, opting instead to pick up the wooden spoon in the bowl and begin to eat. It was one of Halsin's spoons; one he whittled. It was smooth and beautiful and easy to hold. Almost all of the cutlery in camp had been fashioned by Halsin, and several of the stools you kept as well. It was his hobby and his form of relief, to create things with his hands. Subconsciously, you glanced down to where the hands in question rested on his knees; large and rough, his hands had seen it all and done it all through his 300 plus years of life, and you couldn't help but quietly admire how much they had learned and lost in the process. And after all of that, he chose to create beauty with those hands that knew so much. It made your heart clench with a new wave of affection. You swallowed hard, as if the feelings would force their way back down in the same way as the contents of your bowl.

Again, you were drawn back from your reverie by the Druid's movements, one of his hands moving from his lap to yours. His palm came down to rest flat on your thigh, only a thin layer of fabric left to separate the blazing heat from your skin. You barely suppressed a gasp of surprise at the sudden contact, feeling much more intimate than it probably was, and locked eyes with Halsin, whose brow was worried into wrinkles. "You seem more distant than usual, are you sure you're alright?" He said, his thumb taking a slow drag across your leg, sending your poor heart racing in your chest.

"Yes," you managed to respond, rather breathlessly. "I- I'm alright." Even you weren't convinced by your attempt at deflection, and Halsin's frown only deepened.

"When you've finished your stew, come find me by my tent. I will have some healing herbs waiting for you." He said sternly and you nodded silently. His eyes softened at your wide-eyed expression and he reached up to gingerly tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "Promise me you will come." He murmured quietly, his eyes never leaving yours, and your heart stuttered wildly in your chest.

"I promise." You replied, and a soft smile graced his lips. He nodded in return and stood up, brushing himself off before walking back towards his tent.

"Gods," you muttered under your breath, pressing your palm to your chest in an effort to keep your pounding heart inside.

"You've been given the perfect opportunity, darling." A voice chimed lyrically behind you, and you turned your head to find Astarion eyeing you appreciatively. "Don't waste it." He grinned widely, putting his fangs on display as he did so.

"Shut up, Astarion." You mumbled, your face heating as you pressed your hands over your eyes. You only hoped you wouldn't make a fool of yourself.

fin

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #baldur's gate 3 halsin #baldur's gate halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x f!reader #halsin x f!tav #halsin x plus size reader #halsin x plus size f!reader #unsolicited affections

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cheolism · 1 year

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in the eye of the beholder

➳ choi seungcheol x fem!reader

➳ summary: when you don't like how you look in the mirror, your boyfriend decides to take it upon himself to worship you.

➳ word count approx. 6.2k

➳ tags: boyfriend!cheol, dom!cheol, possessive cheol. wall sex, fingering, oral; unprotected sex. worshipful sex. cheol's crude mouth, dirty talk. crying during sex from pleasure, mating press, spitting, hair pulling, consensual choking (just a little). pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart, angel, pretty girl, beautiful). simp seungcheol, his real spending addiction. he's going to tell you you're beautiful until you believe it.

➳ warnings: MDNI. fat/chubby!reader, insecurity, internalized fatphobia, anxiety. mentions of fatness, stretchmarks, love handles.

➳ request: I was wondering if you could make a seungcheol smut with a plus size girl reader and he basically treats you like he worships you and your body right after the reader felt insecure about her body and he says he stills adores you no matter how you look like while doing it

➳ note: this is slightly different than the request, but i hope you like it nonetheless!! i think you wanted it to be soft and cute but it. did not end up like that. nyways this is for all my fellow chubby/fat girlies <3 hopefully we will all one day get a cheol seungcheol

honestly, you didn't even know you had made a face. you had heard all your life that your face was too expressive for your own good and that it would land you in trouble, and finally it had. only, trouble had a name and his name was choi seungcheol.

the mirror had never been your best friend. all your life you had been obsessed with it. not in the vainish way, not in the pretty way that girls with hair that obeyed the rules of gravity and whose puberty somehow neglected to give them any acne were.

you were obsessed with the mirror in the way that it was your greatest enemy, your greatest foe, and yet you kept returning. when you used the restroom you couldn't help but pause in front of it, peering close at your pores and frowning. couldn't help but hover and look, taking note of every flaw. you stopped in front of the mirror before you left your apartment, eyes sharply taking in how your pants clung too tightly around your waist and not enough around your knees, how your middle seemed to be the first and only thing anyone would ever see when they looked at you.

so when you put on a dress from last spring your first instinct was to look in the mirror.

you had liked the dress. liked how it felt brushing around your knees, liked the colors of the little flowers and bees. you liked how the sleeves were long enough to cover your arms, liked how the dress didn't cling to your middle.

but then you went to the mirror.

you heard seungcheol as he moved about the apartment, sighing and grumbling about something.

"i just don't understand how mingyu can be so fucking happy all the time," seungcheol whined.

"we've been filming all fucking day --" did the dress hug your breasts too tightly? "-- and he's still fucking smiling away like someone sucked his dick before filming --" did it cling to your ass too much? "-- and even fucking seokmin was getting tired of it!" and when you turned you were wide, you were wide and fat and --

seungcheol's voice suddenly came from behind you, making you jump. you spun around, eyes wide as you looked up at your boyfriend, trying rather poorly to catch your breath.

"and what's going on here, sweetheart?"

immediately you knew you were caught. seungcheol's voice had that deadly sort of sweetness to it he only got when he was peeved about something and trying to shove it down. but your boyfriend was more passion than anything else, and his eyes seemed to sharpen as he stood in front of you.

even if his voice and face hadn't given away his irritation, the petname did. sweetheart. he only ever used it when he was pissed and trying to cover it, when he was trying to use his sweetness as a way to distract himself.

"i'm --" you crossed your hands in front of your stomach, covering it. "just looking at the dress."

but crossing your arms was the wrong move. seungcheol moved closer, his thick brows raising. disbelief practically radiated off of him.

he didn't need to verbally question you, however. all seungcheol had to do was cross his own arms over his chest, making his chest bulge and forearms flex, raising his brow and twisting his lip in disapproval, and your insecurities were bubbling up and out.

"it's just --" you spun around, back to the mirror. "look at me, seungcheol! look! i'm so! i look like a fucking whale --"

as soon as the word left your mouth he was on you, his arms wrapping around you and bringing you flush to his chest. seungcheol buried his chin into your shoulder, causing you to tense at the little flash of pain from it. but you didn't move, letting him press his hands to your stomach, mapping it, before they settled on your hips.

"what did i fucking say about that word, princess?" seungcheol hummed, eyes glinting dangerously.

you swallowed, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "but --"

"since you seemed to forget," he rushed on, raising his voice to drown yours out. "i'll just have to remind you."

"seungcheol," you said, hands going to his and lifting them off of you. you didn't want him to touch you when you were like this, as if your poor nature would somehow leak into him and tarnish him. "seungcheol, i'm just fat and ugly, and i'm going to change my dress and it doesn't need to be a whole thing --"

seungcheol pulled his arms from your grasp, bringing a sharp gasp from your lips. then your boyfriend was wrapping one arm around your middle, bringing your body flush against his. his other hand went to your face, holding and guiding it to look at the mirror square-on.

"seems like i've been neglecting my duty as your boyfriend," he announced, voice stern. he cocked his head from where he rested it on your shoulder, black curls shifting into his eyes.

your stomach twisted at his words, guilt immediately flooding through you. "no -- cheol, it's nothing to do with you, it's all me. you're perfect --"

"and so are you, baby," he interjected, squeezing you. his hand traveled from your face, fingertips dragging down your neck and over your collar, his tough light enough to make your skin erupt out in goosebumps. "you're absolutely perfect."

your face instantly contorted, doubt heavy. seungcheol sighed, joining his hands together around your waist and interlocking them. "princess. you know what i think about all of this."

"i know," you agreed.

this wasn't the first time your insecurities about your body and its shape reared their heads. it was such a heavy subject, one that you constantly tried to ignore; seungcheol, on the other hand, wanted to meet them head-on. he was the sort of person who didn't shy away from problems, especially when it came to those he loved.

so he saw your insecurities, saw all of your self-hatred and how it shimmered just beneath the surface all the time. you knew he hated it. you knew he hated your doubt and insecurity, but it wasn't something that just could be stopped on a whim.

seungcheol led your bodies into a sway, eyes still on your figures in the mirror. "and you know i love you."

"i do." you knew he did. choi seungcheol loved you, and this was a fact of the universe, just as the moon is a cold rock and the sun is hot gas and water is made of hydrogen and oxygen and choi seungcheol is made up of love for you; and you, him.

"and i know you're beautiful." he tilted his head, pressing his lips against the fabric covering your shoulder. "i think you're beautiful right now, in this cute little dress. i think you're beautiful when you're asleep. when you're eating. when you're doing nothing, when you're concentrating. i think you're gorgeous, baby. doesn't that matter?"

you swallowed, leaning back into his hold, letting seungcheol accept your weight. it did matter; it does. you treasured seungcheol more dearly than you ever could yourself, and you valued his opinion and thoughts more than any gold or ruby.

but the world wasn't made of choi seungcheols.

it was made of strangers with superficial thoughts, who didn't care about the inside of the person, the heart and soul, as long as the outside shined; didn't care if the rock in their hand was pyrite as long as the outside glimmered with gold; as long as the person in front of them fit their narrative.

you knew that, as soon as you walked outside of your apartment, you would be subjected to the world. to people who may look over you without a glance, who wouldn't give you a second look. but there was also people who would squint and guffaw, who would see your love handles and the stretchmarks on your arms and let their hatred roar.

you valued seungcheol so much; treasured him so much. you would take a single seungcheol over a thousand strangers any day. so why did the stranger matter so much when it came to your appearance?

"what other people think don't matter," he murmured, dropping another kiss to your shoulder. "what they see doesn't matter. isn't that what you tell me?"

"it's different," you mumbled, eyes dropping to his hands. you settled your hands over his, watching as he turned his hands to grab yours and squeeze.

"how is it different, princess?"

you sighed, pressing your thumbs into his hands, letting him rock the two of you back and forth. you knew where this conversation was going, knew you were walking into his trap. "because you're beautiful."

he hummed. "but not to everyone."

"they're stupid if they don't think you're beautiful," you huffed, flicking your eyes up. seungcheol's eyes had softened, twinkling at you. he was looking at you like a poet looked at a flower, an artist their muse, a fan their idol; he was looking at you with adoration. "cheol . . ."

"you took the words straight from my mouth, baby." he straightened, tossing his head a little to shake his curls from his eyes. "tell me, princess. what's the definition of fat?"

you rolled your eyes. seungcheol maneuvered you, turning you from the mirror and towards him. you knew what he was getting at, but still you played along. "plump. having excess."

seungcheol nodded, pouting out his lips in thought. he brought your conjoined hands up, resting them on your shoulders. "and ugly?"

"offensive to look at," you recited, knowing that if you didn't he would bring out his phone and pull up the dictionary.

"and where do those two overlap?" he questioned. "where do the definitions line up? are they synonyms?"

his hands moved from your shoulders, hovering over your skin as he moved them. seungcheol settled his hands around your waist, squeezing. "no, but for some people --"

"if they find fat people offensive," he broke in, "then they have something wrong with them and should take a closer look in the mirror and see the true ugliness of their heart."

seungcheol finally sighed, letting his eyes close. he used his grip on your body to tug you into him, wrapping his arms around you. you went easily, letting seungcheol hold you, eyes sliding shut.

the two of you stood for a handful of moments, basking in the presence of the other. seungcheol was warm and strong, the line of his body sturdy against yours. it was like his love, you thought, warm, strong, never-wavering.

seungcheol pulled away, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. his eyes were soft and sweet, filled with the love for you that his heart couldn't contain, his entire being drenched in it. "you're beautiful, princess. fat or skinny, dress or sweatpants, messy hair or freshly done. you're absolutely gorgeous, and i love you. i love you."

the weight of his mouth against yours had you sighing, eyes fluttering. seungcheol kissed you sweetly, tenderly, warmly; as if he could force the love he had for you into your body and soul through kissing you.

his hand sunk into your hair, using the grip to angle your head. he tugged your lower lip between his, a little gasp escaping you.

"seungcheol," you breathed, his lips detaching from yours. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before carrying on. his lips skimmed your chin; your jaw; your neck. they coaxed sighs and gentle exhales out, your body turning towards his, a sunflower chasing the sun.

"you're beautiful," he declared, voice as sure as the dawn. his words were warm against your skin, breath hitting it and causing goosebumps to break out. "you're perfect. my perfect girl."

and then seungcheol's pushing you against the wall next to the mirror, his lips attaching to your neck and sucking. you moaned out his name, arms coming up and around his shoulders, baring your neck for him as an offering.

"such a pretty girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the hickey he left before he moved on. "pretty girls deserve to be rewarded, don't they, princess?"

seungcheol fell to his knees in front of you, the dull thump making you wince. then he grabbed your knee, pushing up and out, bringing it over his shoulder.

"cheol," you breathed, all air seemingly leaving your lungs. "seungcheol, seungcheol."

he grinned, eyes shining as he kneeled between your legs. "that's me, princess."

seungcheol pushes forward, using the hand not keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder to push up your dress. he paused for a moment, the silence taking over the room. "you -- you're not wearing panties, baby."

"was just trying the dress on," you whined, sinking your hand into his dark hair. his locks were long enough that you could pull and tug, wrap them around your fingers and marvel in their softness. "didn't have a chance to put any on."

"perfect," he replied. "if i had my way you'd never wear panties, you know?"

before you could reply seungcheol was disappearing underneath your dress. you couldn't help but jump when his fingers pressed against your pussy lips, prodding and feeling the warmth there.

"even down here is pretty and perfect," he hummed.

thoroughly embarrassed, you began saying his name in a scolding tone. but as soon as the first syllable was leaving your lips he was attaching his to your cunt, running his tung up the length of your pussy.

his name ended up leaving your lips in a loud cry. you threw your head back against the wall, the dull thud not rendering as your boyfriend repeated the action, using his spit to wetten your cunt.

"gotta get wet for me, baby." seungcheol shifted closer, and then his tongue was brushing against your hole. you clenched immediately, gasping in surprise. but then he was shoving his tongue in, humming.

seungcheol ate you messily, pressing his entire face against your cunt. he used his spit and spread it along your cunt with his tongue, lapped at your hole and pressed a fingertip underneath it, massaging the muscle and coaxing it.

soon enough you were drenched, your cunt soaking your boyfriend's face as he continued to eat you out. he slurped against your pussy, swallowing your juices eagerly. he pressed a line of kisses from your hole to your clit, and then he was wrapping his lips around it and sucking while his fingers poked at your hole.

seungcheol worked his tongue against your clit as he inserted a thick finger into your cunt. his fingers were so thick, the stretch always causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head, burning in the best way. seungcheol continued working you until his pointer finger slid fully inside of your cunt, the slide easy due to your wetness.

he pressed a kiss to your clit, causing you to clench around him. seungcheol laughed, and when he spoke his voice was thick in his throat. "such a good girl, princess. took my finger so well. you're so wet and tight, so perfect for me. but you're always so perfect, aren't you?"

you felt his second finger slide along your folds, collecting your fluids. you scrambled against him in anticipation, your fingers sinking into his curls and clenching down.

"that's right princess," he murmured, slurping against your clit, his voice soft compared to the loud squelching of your cunt. "gonna make you feel so good, gonna make you forget anything but my name."

his second finger probed against your hole and then, in a fluid movement that had your stomach clenching, slid in alongside the first. his fingers were so fucking thick, so fucking thick and large and filling. seungcheol could move his fingers easily in your cunt, your pussy offering no resistance.

"you're so wet, baby," he pressed his mouth against your clit and slurped, the vibrations of his mouth earning a loud squeal from yours. "so tight around my fingers. dunno how we'll fit my cock inside, princess."

he moved his face from your cunt, pressing his mouth against the thigh hooked over his shoulder and kissing. in doing so seungcheol spread your fluids along your skin, creating a mess along your thigh. meanwhile his two fingers continued moving inside of you, your cunt clenching around them eagerly in a poor attempt to keep them wedged inside.

"but i know you'll take my cock, won't you, princess?" seungcheol flicked his eyes up at you, though you didn't notice. you were too lost in your own pleasure, your hands pulling at his hair while you squeezed your eyes shut. "you always take my dick so good, baby. always feel so perfect around it, your tight little cunt so perfect for my fat cock."

his words pulled a full shiver from your body, muscles tensing. seungcheol grinned against your skin. he slid his ring finger in alongside the other two, the stretch bringing a loud cry from your lips, back arching against the wall and thigh tightening around him.

seungcheol chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to your thigh. then he began alternating between sucking and nipping, the little sparks of pain making your toes curl and bringing out sweet gasps.

you came with a loud cry, your orgasm long and prolonged, gently coaxed into being by seungcheol's steady fingers and wicked mouth. he continued working at you even as you spasmed around his digits, cunt clenching.

"fuck, baby," he laughed. "your cunt's squeezing so tightly around my fingers. do you wish it was my cock, hm? wish it was my cock you were squeezing around so you could milk it dry? wish i was dumping into you, filling you with my spunk?"

the crudeness of his words drew a low moan from you, fingers digging into his hair. seungcheol knew his words could twist your stomach and bring heat coursing through your body just as well as his actions could and he never missed out on the opportunity to do so.

his dark, sweet eyes were always watching you after all. taking in how you looked at yourself in mirrors, how you always seemed to linger around toddlers with a soft smile; how you always seemed to go still whenever he uttered words like spunk and cunt.

being known was mortifying, but being known by choi seungcheol? being known by choi seungcheol meant a double-edged sword of comfort and cunning, of using your own preferences and perversions against you.

seungcheol pulled back, slipping his fingers from your cunt. he held up his hand, getting your attention.

you gasped, appalled. his hand was soaked from your fluids, and when he spread out his fingers strings of your juices connected them. his hand and forearm practically shined in the light, drenched in you.

seungcheol stood from the floor, knees cracking, guiding your thigh off of his shoulder. you stumbled, knees weak and unable to properly hold yourself up. seungcheol's clean hand immediately went to your waist, steadying you.

"careful, pretty girl," he warned, pressing you against the wall to help steady you. he brought his dirty hand up to your mouth, fingers tugging at your bottom lip. "okay princess. come on, open your pretty little mouth for me."

you obeyed, parting your lips. seungcheol slid his three fingers into your mouth, immediately filling it. for a moment you were overwhelmed, the weight of his fingers inside your mouth nearly suffocating, tears biting at the corners of your eyes.

then you breathed out through your nose, calming yourself. you brought your hands up around his wrist, holding seungcheol's hand still. then you brought your tongue up and against his digits, tasting your orgasm, licking it off of his fingers and swallowing around them.

"that's a good girl," he hummed, eyes half-closed as he watched you. his dark lashes, which were thick and long and devastatingly beautiful, fluttered. "fuck you're so beautiful with my fingers in your mouth, baby."

you hummed around his fingers, squeezing his wrist in your grip.

seungcheol cursed softly, pulling his hand out of your mouth. he placed both of his hands on your waist, guiding you off of the wall and towards the bed.

"fuck you're gorgeous," seungcheol said, admiring you. your hair was messed up from being against the wall, spit smeared around your mouth from taking his fingers. "my beautiful girl."

then he was kissing you, mouth eagerly clashing against yours. seungcheol practically devoured your mouth, tongue taking and claiming yours for his own.

his hands went to your dress, bunching up the skirt. seungcheol brought it up over your hips, hands sliding along your skin. he pulled his mouth from yours, kissing along your jaw.

"gotta get your dress off, angel." seungcheol separated from you just long enough to help you pull off your dress, baring your body for his eyes. his eyes darted over your body, biting his lip and greedily taking you in.

"that's my beautiful girl," he announced, pleased. his hands went to your love handles, squeezing possessively. seungcheol traced his fingers long the ridges and valleys of your stretchmarks, hands smoothing over the fat of your middle and holding, massaging. "fucking beautiful."

you sighed, shaking your head softly. but you pressed into seungcheol all the same, letting his hands continue their journey, memorizing your body as if he hadn't seen it a thousand times before.

seungcheol, just as he was passionate, was covetous. he would say as much himself, laughing as he presented whatever high-end piece of clothing he recently splurged on for one of you. he treated his greed as a part of him, something he earned and respected.

what's the problem in liking pretty things, princess, he laughed, pulling away so he could admire the new necklace he just placed around your neck. i'm just a simple man who likes beautiful things. that's why i chased after you.

so he greedily drank your body in, enraptured by its beauty. the fat of your thighs and hips, the curve of your stomach; the hang of your breasts and the valley between, the stretchmarks along your arms and waist. his tough was gentle and sweet, almost reverent, like a devoted worshiper before his most precious goddess.

seungcheol's mouth went to your neck, plump lips skimming alongside your skin. he went to your shoulder, biting the skin there gently.

"okay baby," he hummed, pulling back. seungcheol softly guided you to the bed, his touch still delicate. you leaned back on the bed, bracing your hands against the mattress. you bore your body to him, unconcerned momentarily with your modesty and instead enraptured by his.

his hands went to the hem of his hoodie, pulling the large article off. seungcheol's body was filled, biceps and shoulders thick. he had lost the severity of his abs in the few weeks of break, but they still lingered and drew your eyes.

"keep looking at me with those sweet eyes of yours and i'll have to fuck you until tears are coming out of them," seungcheol smirked, his hands resting on the waistband of his sweats. "but i think i'll be doing that anyways, princess."

you shifted, reaching and brushing your hair back and off of your shoulder. you glanced down at his dick without realizing it. you could see the fat imprint of it through his sweats, the sight of it making you salivate and your cunt clench.

slowly, tantalizingly, seungcheol hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants. he pulled both his pants and underwear down over his ass, past his thick thighs and then seungcheol was stepping out of them.

his dick was large and thick and red, standing at attention. he took it in his hand, hissing at the contact. you watched, enchanted, as he dragged his hand alongside the dick, coaxing precum from its tip.

"god, baby," he groaned, shutting his eyes. seungcheol took his lower lip in his mouth, sucking at it. "your fucking eyes, princess."

seungcheol played with the tip of his dick with his fingers for a moment before releasing it. then he stepped forward and to the bed, fitting his body between your legs. when he offered his fingers to you you immediately opened your mouth, accepting his fingers in.

his precum was slightly bitter to the taste, but you sucked at his fingers anyways, welcoming it.

"that's a good girl," he sighed before withdrawing his fingers. "up on the bed, princess."

you moved, dragging your knees onto the bed as to climb further up it. as soon as you were turned to seungcheol his hands were on your hips, thumbs pressing into the fat of your ass.

"fucking hell," he groaned, fingers pressing into your body. "your ass, baby. i never get tired of looking at your sweet ass, always looks so good."

he squeezed your middle once more before he released you, hands settling along the curve of your ass and guiding you up the bed. once you were at the head of it you plopped onto your back, legs immediately opening for him.

seungcheol kneeled before your body, hands settling on your knees. his eyes roamed your body, drinking you in. "you look so perfect like this, you know that? spread out on the bed for me, all bare and ready. ready for my dick, ready for me to stuff my cock inside your cute cunt."

seungcheol dipped his head, pressing a kiss to your knee. "i wish you knew how beautiful you were, baby. but if i have to spend the rest of my life convincing you, then that's what i'll do."

he glanced up at you, dark eyes piercing through your own. "if i need to spend the rest of my life fucking your cunt raw for you to be convinced, then i'll do it. gladly."

seungcheol moved from you, reaching up past your head. he grabbed a pillow, his free hand going to your hips and guiding them up so he could shift the pillow beneath them. he resumed his position of kneeling before you, hands bracing on either of your knees.

slowly, as to not strain your body too much, he began pushing your knees back and up, revealing more and more of your cunt to him. the stretch burned slightly as your muscles protested the new positions he was putting you into, but you didn't protest.

once your thighs were pressed against your chest, seungcheol stopped manipulating you. he groaned a little, eyes taking in your plush figure. "fucking gorgeous, baby."

then his hand was on his dick, pressing the fat head against your hole. your breath hitched in your throat, eyes shutting at the pressure of his dick. "cheol -- cheol, you're so big --"

he laughed breathlessly. seungcheol continued to steadily press his dick inside of you. you watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend worked his tongue around his mouth; pursed his lips; and then he was leaning over your cunt, a thick wad of spit dropping from his mouth and onto where his dickhead pressed against your hole.

you groaned, pussy clenching. seungcheol's hand went to your cunt, massaging around your hole, coaxing it to take in his fat dick. you relaxed into the bed, pleasure manifesting itself warmly in your gut at his fingertips.

seungcheol's dick slid inside. you keened, tossing your head back against the pillows as his dick split you open. he cursed, voice low in his throat, and then seungcheol was laying himself against you.

he used his weight to press your thighs close to your chest, to keep your body trapped beneath his. you were practically flat against the bed from his body, seungcheol all around you, the scent and feel of him flooding your senses.

"fuck," he hissed, lashes fluttering. "fucking so tight for me princess, so tight and warm and fucking perfect. you're so perfect, baby, so goddamn perfect for me"

his hips pressed against your ass, signifying he was fully sheathed inside. seungcheol gathered his breath as he waited for your cunt to relax around him, his large hands sliding beneath your knees and squeezing.

he turned his head, pressing a kiss to your leg. "that's a good girl," he murmured, nose brushing alongside your skin. "taking me so beautifully."

you hummed, sucking on your lower lip. you felt so incredibly full with his dick inside of you. part of you, the more animalistic part of you that was kept tucked away, wished you could feel like this all the time. wished you always had his dick balls-deep inside of you, pressing at your core and forcing your walls to accommodate him.

but, as good as warming his dick was, you wanted more. you may have been full from his cock, but you were still starving.

so you rocked your hips up as best as you could with his full weight on top of you, urging his dick in further.

"fuck," he breathed, pressing his forehead against your leg. "fuck. okay. okay, baby."

slowly seungcheol withdrew from your body. the drag of his cock against your walls had you whining, grinding up into the air in a poor attempt to put his dick back inside.

he stopped once his cockhead was tugging at your hole, looking down at the place where the two of you were joined. "shit, princess. even this part of you is beautiful."

you wanted to reach out and smack his head. instead you felt heat rise to your cheeks at his shamelessness.

"fuck me, cheol," you begged, furrowing your brow. you reached out, grabbing onto his shoulders and trying to force him closer. "please, cheol. please fuck me."

"aw," he cooed, dark eyes twinkling. "you even beg prettily. as a matter of fact --" he guided your legs as he spoke, hooking them over his broad shoulders. "-- i think i'd like you to beg a little more for me, baby. let me hear your pretty mouth."

"seungcheol," you whined, desperate. you wanted his dick back inside of you, wanted seungcheol to impale you on his dick. you wanted him to take you, wanted to feel him ravage your body. you -- "want your dick in me, cheol. want you to fuck me like -- like i'm the prettiest fucking thing and you want to make me yours."

seungcheol blanched for a moment, eyes widening at your words. then a curse escaped his mouth, and he was bracing his heads on either side of your head. he sheathed his cock back inside your cunt smoothly, without any of the caution he had exhibited earlier.

"fuck," you moaned, trying to arch up into him to no avail. his body was pressing you firmly against the bed still, leaving you no room to move about, no room to do anything other than take his dick. "fuck, please, cheol --"

he withdrew, and then he impaled you with his cock just as quickly. seungcheol moved swiftly, shoving his dick in you without any hesitance. his hips slapped against your ass hard enough to bruise them, the sound of his balls slapping against your skin ringing in your ears.

the pain of his fucking was nothing compared to the pleasure. his thick cock dragged against your walls, the head of it fat enough to hit your core with every strike. you couldn't do anything, powerless against his strength and power.

the warmth in your gut was expanding, the liquidy feel taking over your limbs and rendering them useless. you couldn't do anything, eyes rolling into the back of your head, mouth hanging with moans escaping.

"that's it pretty girl," he groaned. seungcheol moved one of his hands off of the bed, placing it around your throat. he did nothing other than flex his hand against your neck but still the action had you whining, voice going high in your throat.

"fucking sound so good," he breathed, his cock drilling into you at a horrid pace. "fucking taking my cock like a good girl. shit -- your cunt's perfect. so fucking perfect. your perfect fucking eyes, perfect hips and thighs, perfect ass and breasts. perfect -- fucking -- cunt --"

he accentuated each of his words with a well-aimed thrust into your cunt. "fucking -- made for me, all beautiful just for me."

"just --" you gasped, throat working his hand. "just for you."

"say it," he demanded, voice dark and stern. "want you to say it, pretty girl."

you squeezed your eyes shut, but he was immediately squeezing your throat in retaliation. "keep your eyes open, baby. want you to look me in the eyes and say it."

your eyes flew open at his command, mouth gaping. but you obeyed, that thick dick rendering you useless to even think about going against seungcheol. "i'm -- i'm beau -- beautiful --"

"for fucking who," he hissed, mouth in a smirk. "who are you made for, princess?"

"you!" you cried, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. you wanted to cum so badly, wanted that knot in your gut to just snap. "you, cheol! i'm beautiful just for you!"

seungcheol's smirk widened, and then his hand was squeezing against your throat. he held it, fucking into you fluidly, hand heavy on your neck.

"fucking beautiful," he agreed. seungcheol lifted his hand from your throat, and as soon as you were gulping down a lungful of air, you were cumming.

it hit you like a truck, causing your mind to blank and your breath to escape you altogether. you couldn't do anything, your cunt spasming around seungcheol's cock, trying to milk it.

"that's it," he praised you, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. "that's a good girl."

you whined as soon as you could, chest rapidly heaving to get air back into your lungs. "cheol -- cheol, please --"

"gonna fuck my cum into you, pretty girl," he vowed, dark brows pressed together. "gonna paint your pussy with my spunk."

"please!"

seungcheol pulled out of you, drawing a loud whine from your lips in protest. but then his hands were on your hips, flinging you onto your stomach. he man-handled you, his hand settling on your shoulders and forcing them into the bed, the other hand on your hips and bringing them up and baring your ass.

his dick pierced your cunt again, the action drawing a squeal from your mouth. you couldn't -- your cunt clenched down on his dick in protest, begging for some sort of relief from his ministrations. your mouth refused to close, spit leaking freely from your lips, your tears falling from your cheeks and joining your spit to stain the pillow.

"so much," you moaned, "cheol -- it's so much --"

but then you were driving your hips back onto him, seeking out his dick.

"fuck, baby," he moaned. he placed his hands on your love handles, squeezing the flesh. then he was gripping your hips harshly, enough to leave bruises, using them to snap your body back onto his cock.

"fuckin -- so good, baby -- perfect little pussy, perfect fucking body --" he moved one of his hands from your hip, sliding it down along your back. seungcheol gripped your hair, pulling. "fucking beautiful taking my cock like this, taking it like a good girl, so perfect and beautiful and mine."

you were already sensitive from having cum twice before, so it didn't take but a handful more harsh thrusts before you were squealing, clenching around his dick. fresh tears sprung to your eyes, your shouts muffled by the pillows.

your body went completely lax in seungcheol's hold, your legs giving out. exhaustion struck you, seeping into your body and mind, muddling it all. but seungcheol carried on; he wrapped his arms around your middle, keeping you propped up so he could continue fucking you.

"gonna cum in you," he warned, nails digging into your flesh. "gonna cum and fuck it in, gonna fill you until your little pussy is drowning in my spunk --"

weakly, you clenched around him in response. seungcheol groaned, a loud thing that tore through his throat. you could feel him as he came, could feel the cum fill your cunt. seungcheol continued thrusting into you, using your body to milk his dick.

"what a good girl you are," he praised, hands releasing their severe grip on your hips. seungcheol didn't pull from you, but instead he turned your body so you were facing him. he grinned down at you before he lowered himself, laying his body on top of yours.

you hummed, pleased at the extra weight. you gathered the energy to sink one of your hands into his curls and pull, but other than that you were still, basking in your post-orgasmic state.

seungcheol pressed his face into the valley between your chest. sweat clung to both of your bodies like a second skin, but neither of you paid it any mind. especially not seungcheol as he ran his lips over your breasts, placing sweet little kisses.

"so beautiful," he murmured, eyes flicking up to yours. seungcheol's gaze was soft and sweet, adoration pouring from his very soul. "you're so beautiful, baby. i love you and your body so much. love you, adore you, cherish you. "

and when his mouth continued to travel along your body, mapping it out with his lips, you began to believe him.

2K notes · View notes

psiirockin · 5 months

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anyone who gives you hate for drawing chubby mike is stupid. chubby mike is so real and huggable. they just can't handle his chubby autistic swag. (In all seriousness, you're probably one of my favourite fnaf artist because of how unique your designs are. you're the first person i have ever seen draw the afton siblings chubby and they all look so cute like that. your artstyle is so good i just want to eat it. the way you color is so nice and the way you draw hair makes me want to explode. it's so so good)

I really do appreciate this + all of the other love I’ve gotten for my Aftons (and other chubbies!) in my asks + elsewhere. It does mean so much that people find them all appealing and beautiful. And some can even feel represented.

I get a VERY excessive amount of hate, for all of the Aftons being chunky but especially Michael. Other characters too, but the Aftons and Michael get the worst of it. I think it’s because they don’t find it attractive, but that doesn’t really matter to me. I think chubby children are normal, and fat men are normal & attractive.

I mean, he’s really.. average fat anyway? Like normal average body type so I dunno why people rant about me making Mike “obese”. My William is actually obese, which isn’t an insult. That’s just how big he is. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but I do find it strange how they think an average body type is so massive? Like really, what is midsize to them if they think that is obese.

Fat is normal, all bodies are normal in fact. And they are just drawings after all, so the amount of disgust & hate I receive for it— specifically on Tik Tok of course— is so laughable. All the support and love really is so encouraging though and overpowers any discomfort the fatphobia causes, so thank you everyone!!!!

#Aside from this being how I interpret them #my Michael is actually a fictive in my partner system.#So I couldn’t care less if anyone finds him attractive LOL #he’s not drawn for anyone to find attractive or not #that’s simply how he looks.#asks open #asks

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silantryoo · 5 months

Text

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — the last great american dynasty, pt 1.

jang wonyoung, throughout the years.

WARNINGS ; misogyny, toxic household, infidelity, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, absent parents, mentions of affair families, hints of eating disorders, overworking, health issues, fatphobia, implied depression, implied teenage pregnancy (5.5k)

jang wonyoung was born on august 31, 2004.

the newborn was nine pounds and twenty-one inches. with a head of dark, thick hair, the baby's cries rang throughout the hospital room as a tired jang jiyoung could feel the tears welting in her eyes. her baby was alive, and healthy by the sound of it. it was music to her ears.

her baby. her beautiful baby.

she could already imagine it. her beautiful baby boy, inheriting the jang name, passing it on. he'd run for office, just like his father, upholding its integrity, its strength. jiyoung would introduce him to one of her costar's friends, and they'd get married. he'd take care of her, as jiyoung would help his pregnant wife get settled into the family.

she loved her baby boy. her perfect little wonyoung.

"what would you like to name her?"

jiyoung's heart dropped.

her?

"i'm sorry?"

she must've heard wrong. it was just the post-labor haze that had been talking. not only would wonseok reprimand her for not producing an heir to the jang name, but she wouldn't have anyone to take care of her once she grew old.

at least, not someone capable.

the baby's cries continued, almost as if the baby was begging for a glimpse of its mom. with tiny little hands outstretched in the direction of jiyoung, tears poured down its chubby cheeks.

her baby. her baby girl.

"wonyoung." she said half-heartedly. "i'll name her jang wonyoung."

jang wonyoung was imperfect from the start.

her cheeks were too chubby.

any normal four-year-old would have been praised. chubby cheeks were a sign of health, a sign that your baby was eating well.

wonyoung knew it from the way her mom would stare at her, sometimes even pinching her cheeks harshly, almost as if she was trying to pull off the fat on them.

she tried to ignore it, always opting to color peacefully and blink the tears away.

she always drew four people.

her mom, hair flowing to her shoulders, her eyes the same doe-eyed ones as wonyoung. wonyoung always drew her with an angry expression. it was only on tv that wonyoung saw her smile. the youngest jang always stayed up to see her mom smile.

one day, she wanted to see it in person.

her dad was there too, who she rarely saw, but always held a frown whenever he came home. she noticed that he always smelt different, sometimes like the dark, but other times, like flowers. her dad was always serious, even when he was with her mom.

there was also her nanny, a middle-aged woman named hannah, drawn with a smile that made wonyoung feel warm and safe. from what she told wonyoung, she had been working for jiyoung back when she was lee.

wonyoung wondered if her mom smiled back then.

lastly, in the middle, the four-year-old stood. she'd draw herself out in blue crayon, holding her parents' hands with a happy smile. she wished they had a photo like that, instead of the rigid ones that they kept above the fireplace.

hopefully, she'd get a younger sibling soon, so she could love more people.

"enough drawing, wonyoung." her mom snatched her masterpiece away, eyebrows furrowed like the pictures. "your dad is coming home soon."

"he is?" she hoped that he smelt like flowers again.

"he is." jiyoung's face hardened. "you have to go to your room now."

"but i want to see him." she hadn't seen her dad in two months. her mom always said he was at the office, helping the next candidate for the upcoming election (whatever that meant). wonyoung didn't care though. all she wanted was to see her dad again.

jiyoung let out a long sigh, and wonyoung could feel the guilt starting to build up in her chest.

did she make her mom mad again?

"he's in a bad mood, wonyoung." her lips were in a tight line, and wonyoung could see her jaw clenching.

she just wanted her mom to smile at her for once. she wanted to stop making her angry, and her dad happy.

the young girl's eyes brightened, her cheeks turning a light red.

"i can cheer him up!" her dad always laughed at her jokes. if she could get him to smile, wonyoung was sure she could make him feel better. "my friend, sarang, taught me a magic trick. if i can just show dadd-"

"i said," her mom's voice was strict and firm, not the smooth melody she heard on tv. "go to your room, wonyoung."

"but-" wonyoung could cheer him up! she knew she could.

jiyoung sighed. of course, wonyoung would disobey her. she shouldn't have expected anything else from the younger girl.

"do you want him to be mad at you?" the older woman scolded her, jiyoung's finger pointing at the four-year-old in front of her. "do you want him to know that you're a stupid little girl who doesn't listen to her mom?"

stupid.

wonyoung hadn't heard that word before, not until now. her mom had always called her other things; annoying, loud, irritating, but she had never heard stupid before.

she didn't know why it made her feel bad.

"what?" wonyoung could feel herself shrinking into her seat, gripping onto the blue crayon in her hand. "what's stupid?"

"you." jiyoung's eyes were numb, void of all emotions. wonyoung hated it when her mom looked at her like that. "you're being an annoying, stupid little girl right now."

stupid? was she stupid?

wonyoung could feel herself crying.

she didn't want to be stupid. she just wanted to make her dad happy. she just wanted to spend time with him, even when he smelt weird, like the cabinet her mom would open frequently.

"i just wanna see daddy..." wonyoung hiccuped. her lip quivered as her mom glared at her, huffing.

her mom was mad. it was wonyoung's fault, again.

maybe wonyoung was a stupid little girl.

she didn't want to be stupid.

"he doesn't wanna see you." jiyoung whispered, her voice piercing the young jang.

wonyoung hung her head low.

she knew it deep down. she knew that her dad's laughs were to shoo her away. wonyoung could see it by the way he looked at her, and no matter how hard she tried, no matter how funny her jokes were, wonseok wouldn't look her way. even when she showed him her drawings, all he would do was nod.

wonyoung was a stupid girl.

"go to your room, wonyoung."

wonyoung nodded, her bottom lip quivering as she packed up her crayons. she cradled the box against her body, rushing upstairs as jiyoung poured herself a glass of wine.

the four-year-old swung the door open, jumping into her already-made bed. the box of crayons squished against the pale blue covers, various pinks, and reds staining them. it was warm in her room, blindingly bright for a night at 9pm. if wonyoung wasn't crying so much, she'd ask hannah to turn down the lamp and turn on her rabbit night light.

she loved rabbits. they looked like her mom.

"wonyoung." hannah laughed at the little girl, sitting beside her faced-down head. "your crayons."

wonyoung stayed quiet, letting her bed soak up the tears pouring down her face. she tried her best to be quiet, to not disturb anyone, just like her mom taught her.

hannah could still hear her sniffling, though.

the older woman rubbed the back of wonyoung's shirt, feeling the young heiress gasping for air. "what's wrong?"

wonyoung lifted her head up, squinting as she tried to adjust to the room's brightness. she could see the han river from where she was, the water glistening into the jang household.

the four-year-old looked at her caretaker, the kind woman smiling at her.

"mama told me to go up here." her voice was as tiny as she was. "she said daddy was coming, and that he was upset."

wonyoung was upset too, but she was okay with being upset if it meant wonseok would look her way.

"why are you crying then?"

she was crying because she was stupid. she was crying because she never got to spend time with her dad, and her mom only looked her way when wonyoung listened to her.

she was crying because she was jang wonyoung, and her parents didn't want jang wonyoung.

"mama said i can't see him." she hummed as the nanny stroked her hair, comfort washing throughout her body. "he'd get mad at a stupid girl like me."

hannah frowned.

she was worried that jiyoung would turn out like this, bitter and cruel to the younger girl. jiyoung had always resembled her mother, even back when the eldest lee was a baby. hannah had always hoped that she wouldn't hold the same parenting style as her.

"wonyoung." hannah bit back the quiver of her voice. no girl, especially someone as sweet as the young heiress, should ever think of themselves in such a way. "don't call yourself stupid. you're a very smart girl."

wonyoung shook her head. every word her parents had said was a sense of truth to the young child. every glare, every sigh made her feel sad. it made her hurt.

it made her feel worthless.

(but the four year-old didn't know that word yet, and it wouldn't be a couple years until she did. but it didn't matter, because she knew it felt the same when she was four as it did when she was twenty.)

"mama said i was." her voice was as little as she was.

jiyoung was her mother in every sense, just like she always wanted to be. hannah hoped wonyoung wouldn't meet the same fate.

"she's just stressed out right now." she felt guilty lying to the young girl, even though it was partial. "don't listen to her."

wonyoung wanted to believe hannah, so she nodded, sitting up and allowing herself to accept the excuse.

hannah smiled, her grin sending a warmth through wonyoung's body that made her feel loved. she wished that her mom would smile at her that way, but she didn't mind that it was hannah.

the woman looked at wonyoung's bed sheets, stained with the young girl's tears and her crayons.

"do you wanna help me clean this up?" hannah asked, watching as the four year-old's eyes lit up.

wonyoung always wanted to help her.

it made her miss her daughter.

"can i show you a magic trick first?" the young jang smiled, her chubby cheeks protruding from her face.

"a magic trick?" hannah asked gleefully. she pinched wonyoung's cheek lightly, trying her best to control her giddiness. she didn't understand how anyone could hate her this child. "our baby knows a magic trick?"

"can i?" wonyoung grabbed a crayon from the box, waiting for hannah's answer.

"of course, wonyoung."

wonyoung felt perfect.

wonyoung was stupid.

she didn't understand how she could get a 78% in english. perhaps she had been too enamored by their english teacher, the young woman from overseas who had cat-like eyes and a soft, comforting voice that felt like a blanket.

still, she should be doing better. she had gone to an english speaking preschool. most of her friends spoke english as well. she even had cousins across the planet that lived in english speaking countries.

the young heiress felt herself tense as she heard her father sigh beside her. her teacher, pretty and proper, sat in front of them, alongside the principal. only a dark mahogany desk separated the two parties, but wonyoung wished it was more.

"a tutor?" jang wonseok voice was sharp, yet deep and demanding. "why would she need a tutor?"

she needed a tutor because she was stupid. wonyoung was a stupid girl.

she held her tongue back, the knot in her throat increasing as she felt her father radiate anger.

"wonyoung is struggling in english." the eight year-old could hear the worry in her teacher's voice, but she didn't know if it was directed at her or at her father. "it's normal for kids her age too, but she has a hard time with the structure."

the young heiress wanted to go home. she wanted to sit in her dark room, in her closet behind the mahogany doors, the one that had twelve knots, an imperfection that was smooth to the touch.

it was the only imperfection she could bear because jang's can't come with imperfections.

wonyoung wished she wasn't a jang, or at the very least, she wasn't wonyoung.

"if it's normal then why does my daughter need it?" the young jang didn't need to turn to know that her father was scowling at the pretty girl in front of them. she could already hear it in his voice.

"well, since you did sign her up for the advanced placement in our school, it'll be hard for her to keep up with the class." her teacher was calm. wonyoung liked calm. "a tutor would help her and-"

"my daughter doesn't need a tutor."

she did. wonyoung knew she did.

but her father rarely acknowledged her, much less as his daughter. part of her had wondered if he did it purposefully, but it didn't matter. not right now, at least.

"right, wonyoung?"

wonyoung couldn't continue to be a disappointment.

"no."

"get up." her father smirked. he stood up, dusting his tailored dress pants. "we're leaving."

"yes, dad."

obedience was perfection, just like status was worth.

wonyoung just wished that it didn't have to break a part of her every time she did it.

jang wonseok stormed out, and wonyoung could feel the embarrassment fluttering across her chest. her eyes met her principal's, his face scowled in disdain.

jang's had pride, but wonyoung knew better than to leave as such.

the eight-year-old bowed. she bowed as an apology for her and her father and as a sign of respect for the two school staff who took time out of their way out of concern for her.

"jang wonyoung!"

her eyes widened, and wonyoung found herself bolting out of the room, her school bag clutched against her chest.

jang wonseok was scary.

the two made their way into wonseok's mercedes, wonyoung hopping inside, as her father started the car.

the two drove in silence, wonyoung knowing better than to speak once spoken to. she didn't want to anger her father any further, otherwise it would fall onto her mother, which would fall onto her.

she didn't have time for that. she needed to study.

her stomach grumbled lowly, the sudden sound making her head jolt up.

oh, she needed to eat too. she had forgotten about that along the way, too anxious about the parent-teacher meeting that happened to eat lunch earlier that day.

she needed to eat and then study. if she studied as soon as she got home, she would have time to draw or watch cartoons without sacrificing her grades.

was she even allowed to watch cartoons now? her mother had always called them nonsense but wonyoung liked to turn off her brain once in a while. maybe that's why she was stupid. maybe that's why she was like this.

or maybe she was just like this because she was wonyoung.

"your teacher pisses me off." wonseok turned the corner. "is she always like that?"

did she always care about wonyoung? yes, more than her father did.

but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"no."

"hm." wonseok hummed, the car coming to a halt as the traffic light turned red. he glanced at his daughter, gaze cold and stern. "you shouldn't be struggling, wonyoung. that's not how i raised you."

the young heiress wasn't raised by her father or her mother. at eight, she already knew that, and it angered her to think that they kept trying to take credit for her actions, whether it be good or bad.

hannah raised her. not jang wonseok.

but she still held his last name, like how his blood flowed through her veins, and how his title affected her daily life.

"you're a jang." the car started to move again. "jang's don't need help. you think my father helped me? you think he made me how i am?"

part of her wondered if her grandfather had treated her father like this, or if her father was just mean to be mean.

"do you understand what i'm saying?"

wonyoung nodded, obedient as ever. "yes."

"when you get home, i expect you to be studying." wonyoung frowned. her father would most likely be in his study, one that had a clear view of the kitchen. "hannah will keep an eye on you."

"hannah's sick." she was in no shape to take care of the young jang. in fact, wonyoung had been taking care of her. "she should stay in her room. i can just ask my friends-"

"how much do you know, wonyoung?" wonseok asked, practically waving her shortcomings in front of her face. the young girl stayed silent. "exactly. and your friends know as much as you do. hannah will be making sure you stay on track."

wonyoung knew better than to argue, so she listened like she always did.

"yes, dad."

wonyoung wished she could stop listening, just this once.

there were twelve knots on the inside of her mahogany-boarded closet. four were broken in half, caught in between doors while the rest scattered.

there were fifty slits on said doors, one hundred in total. she liked the way the light peaked in, and how warm she felt when it hit her face.

there were three pillows that scattered the ground in said closet. one was bunny-shaped, pastel blue with beady eyes that wonyoung had gotten for her ninth birthday. the other two were throw pillows, white in color, ones that her mother had given her this year, on her tenth.

the hard, cold ground was covered with a blanket, navy blue and fluffy, one that hadn't been washed in over two months. wonyoung's initials were stitched onto the side, but it was only a reminder that she and this closet, her escape, were owned by her father.

it was her father who owned this house, who owned her existence, just like he owned a second child.

her father was a cheater. wonyoung had heard it in between slits of the one hundred panels that made up the majority of her closet's entrance.

"cheater!" she heard.

"liar!" she heard.

crying, she heard.

she wished she could stop hearing it in her head, how her mother's sharp cries echoed in her skull, and how jiyoung blamed everything on the ten-year-old jang wonyoung.

it's my fault.

it always was.

a shadow passed through the holes of her closet, blocking the sunlight as it reached her eyes. wonyoung wondered how long she had been inside, the fighting reaching its climax at around four that morning.

she only wanted to study.

the shadow stayed still as if it was contemplating leaving. the young jang hoped that it was her mother, coming to apologize for the careless words that she had yelled an hour ago.

but jang jiyoung never apologized, just like she never cried.

the shadow spoke.

"wonyoung..."

the young jang stood up, opening the opposite door in a hurry.

the ten-year-old grabbed her arm, bracing it gently as the older woman smiled. she could see hannah holding a cup of water, waves rippling with each shake of her hand.

"you should be resting." she furrowed her eyebrows.

hannah merely stared, not budging as the young heiress felt herself getting more desperate.

wonyoung begged. "hannah, please."

"i'm not leaving until we talk." the older woman shook her head, standing her ground.

hannah was like her, stubborn in every sense. she cared too much to let wonyoung wallow in her sorrows. the young jang knew she would be lost without her guidance.

"can you at least sit?" wonyoung tried to reason, ushering hannah to her bed.

she nodded, allowing wonyoung to lead her. she sat down, handing wonyoung the glass, who took it carefully as if hannah was the one that was fragile.

the two sat in silence, and all hannah could remember was wonyoung at four years old, crying about her mother.

it was no different this time.

"it's not your fault." the older woman started. "your mom is just angry."

jiyoung was an angry person, like wonseok.

but wonseok wanted calm, and jiyoung hadn't been the person to provide that.

"do you think she would be happier if i was never born?" wonyoung asked, her thoughts echoing the shouting of her mother.

hannah couldn't fathom anyone saying such words about their child.

"if i could, i would." the ten-year-old wonyoung meant it truthfully. "i don't like seeing mom upset. i keep trying to fix it but i'm just too..."

wonyoung knew the word. she had felt it at four years old. she had felt it at eight. wonyoung was sure she wasn't going to stop feeling it until she died.

she knew the word because it's what she was.

"worthless."

the word that summed her up in all parts hung in the air as hannah stared at her in shock.

"wonyoung-"

"i am though!" wonyoung never raised her voice, but wonyoung wasn't perfect. she never was and never would be. "if i wasn't like this, mom would love me. dad would pay attention to me. he wouldn't have cheated if i was better."

wonyoung wondered how someone could be so imperfect. she wondered if she was doomed to be alone, to be unwanted, and to ruin every good thing on this planet.

"it's my fault."

"it's not, wonyoung." wonyoung wanted to believe hannah, but she couldn't this time. "your mom and your dad have a very complicated relationship."

wonyoung shook her head. she was the reason it was complicated.

"i wish dad would stop yelling at mom." wonyoung placed the still full glass on her counter. "i wish mom would stop yelling at me."

wonyoung didn't remember a time when her mother didn't yell at her. whether it was a bad grade or to wash the dishes, it was always a yell.

"i'm at the top of my class. i'm friends with all the people dad told me to be friends with. i even skipped a grade. everyone keeps telling them that they want a daughter like me, but mom and dad don't even want me." wonyoung just wanted someone to want her. "i don't know what to do anymore."

if she could, wonyoung would disappear.

"you're ten, wonyoung." this wasn't right, not for anyone and especially not for a ten-year-old. "you don't have to do anything."

wonyoung really wanted to believe her.

"i just want them to love me."

the young heiress had wished the unconditional love that everyone had talked about applied to her when it came to her parents. she had heard that it was supposed to happen as soon as she was born.

perhaps she missed out this time, in this life, because in this life, she was worthless.

but not to hannah. never to hannah.

"i love you."

wonyoung had never felt love from her mother, but she had always felt love from hannah.

"you do?"

"i do." hannah smiled sadly. it hurt to know that wonyoung had felt this way (and how there was a chance that her baby felt the same, wherever she was). "i know how complicated families can be..."

wonyoung had never heard hannah speak about her family, but she knew that the older woman would be a good, if not amazing one.

part of her was jealous that someone out there had a mom like hannah, when she had a mom like jiyoung.

"do you have family, hannah?"

the woman, hands shakey, grasped them together tightly. her lips were pursed, and a mournful expression seemed to overtake the comforting one from before.

"i have a daughter back home." her baby was nine pounds and twenty-one inches with a head full of hair. when hannah closed her eyes, she could hear her baby crying for her mother. "i had her really young."

her baby. her beautiful baby girl.

"do you miss her?" wonyoung asked.

"i miss her a lot." missing her was an understatement. "i haven't heard from her in years."

"why?"

she could think of a million reasons why, all of which she held to herself, in grief and in sorrow.

hannah was a bad mother for abandoning her child, and a bad daughter for being so reckless.

"i grew up really poor." hannah couldn't even begin to compare the jang's house to the one she had back home. "i couldn't find a job, so i moved overseas. i left my baby with my mom."

but her child lived, and her child was loved, even from afar.

"do you love her?"

"i do." hannah couldn't think about not loving her. "i love her so much."

"but you left her."

"i left because i loved her." wonyoung's eyes glistened at the word. she couldn't imagine leaving someone out of love. perhaps disappearing, but leaving was unfathomable. "i'd rather have her grow up hating me than die starving. i just wish i can go back. i just wanna my baby one more time."

this was the unconditional love that everyone had praised. it was the homemade bento boxes, and the tight hugs that wonyoung would see from her friends and their moms. it was the tearful goodbyes from her best friend's grandparents, and the thoughtful notes that her seatmate would find in her bag.

to love someone is to do what's best for them, to do the right thing.

was wonyoung the best for her parents? were her parents the best for wonyoung?

did they even love her?

"you're a good mom, hannah." wonyoung hugged her tightly. "i wish you were my mom."

wonyoung couldn't imagine it, having someone risk everything just for her to be happy. she couldn't imagine loving someone so much, but one day, whether it be a child or someone else, she would love to.

wonyoung wanted to love someone right.

she looked at the tearful hannah, the older woman smiling down at her.

"i promise that when i'm older, i'll make sure you can go back and see your family again."

it was a promise that wonyoung intended to keep.

"thank you, wonyoung."

hannah didn't doubt her. not for one second.

the jang's were never good at keeping promises.

jang wonseok was a politician. keeping promises and breaking them was part of the territory. every campaign he held at least a couple empty pledges, just like he did back home. the twelve-year-old jang wonyoung knew that.

plus, there was no way she'd actually believe what her father said. not after he betrayed her mother.

jang jiyoung was no better. being a news anchor, she had always run a tight schedule. for days, wonyoung wouldn't see her despite each promise that the woman would make, and although she didn't mind, sometimes the young jang did want someone to eat dinner with, even if it was just a cup of instant noodles they could share.

wonyoung thought she was different. that she was hannah's daughter and not a jang.

but it ran in her blood.

"hannah knew me before i knew her."

the microphone echoed, the twelve-year-old's shakey hands grasping tightly onto the paper in front of her, her fingerprints making light marks against the blank white.

"she went with my mom to get an ultrasound when she was pregnant with me." her parents were nowhere to be seen, her father at a meeting and her mother at work. "they said i was a big baby, but hannah said i was a special baby."

to love someone is to do the right thing. letting go was the right thing.

"i don't think i'm special. i think i'm just wonyoung." the crowd laughed. hannah would've laughed too. "hannah was the special one. she knew how to make me feel better. she knew when i was sick before i got sick. she even knew the weather before it happened."

wonyoung didn't want to let go, but she would, for hannah.

"hannah told me that she hadn't seen her baby in a while." she hoped hannah's baby knew how loved she was, and she hoped that her words could reach her, even if it was far away. "i promised her that when i was older, i would make sure she saw them."

the jang's were known to break promises.

"i thought she was gonna live forever. i wanted her to live forever, or just long enough so i can keep my promise. for once, i just wanted to make her feel better. hannah always made me feel better." wonyoung didn't know when the page got so blurry, or why water was pouring out of her eyes. "i thought if i loved her enough, i could fix it. i could do it."

she didn't know how she managed to fail the one person who believed in her.

"i want to apologize to her today. i should've tried harder." she had everything. why couldn't she try harder to give hannah this one? she might've been a twelve-year-old, but still. "i'm sorry, hannah. i'm really really sorry."

to love someone is to do the right thing, but wonyoung realized it was also to mourn, and to be angry at herself for not being better. her failures stared her in the face, the casket mocking her as if she was nothing.

she didn't want to think about it anymore. she had failed, and wonyoung wanted nothing more than for this pain to be gone.

sighing, she stepped down from the lectern.

hannah was her own. her mother.

and like a shadow, she was gone.

death seemed to round the corners of the jang household.

she could see boxes upon boxes piling up in front of their penthouse, her mother glaring into the distance half-heartedly, conflicted with her pain.

jang jiyoung was a lee once. she was the younger sister of lee jihuyn, and the aunt of the ten-year-old lee hyunseo.

lee jihyun always smelt like flowers whenever she was around. it was no wonder why jang wonseok was so fond of her.

"this is hyunseo." her father said, patting the heiress on her shoulder. it pained wonyoung to see him so happy to have his affair child around, especially after- no. wonyoung didn't deserve to think about her again. "she'll be staying with us."

wonyoung nodded bowing as the younger girl stared at her in wonder.

"hello, hyunseo."

wonseok smiled at the young girl in a way wonyoung never got when she was hyunseo's age. "wonyoung will show you your room."

wonyoung's face twitched in disdain before switching into a soft smile.

she led hyunseo up to hann a room, unoccupied yet cleared of any existence that came before it.

hyunseo didn't deserve this room.

wonyoung turned to the younger girl. "this is your ro-"

"can i call you unnie?" the lee couldn't help but gleam at her, her eyes bright as the han river glared back into her new room. "i never had an unnie before. it was just me, mom and dad all the time."

wonyoung bit back a scowl.

her dad. hyunseo was lucky she had a dad.

"i'll ask the butlers to bring your stuff up." wonyoung couldn't help but be cold. "i have a school tour to go to."

"oh..." she watched as the younger girl deflated, and wonyoung couldn't help but feel guilty. hyunseo bounced back, though, her expression brighter than before.

"okay!"

wonyoung didn't understand how she could be so happy.

wonyoung had never been to a public school.

her father and mother had always opted to have her in a private one, yet the presence of a public school with such a reputation around their area had the jang's interested.

wonyoung had to agree that the high school was fairly nice. it had its own swimming pool, and it was clearly popular among international students, wonyoung seeing a few as she passed by.

everything else was pretty much the same as every other school, though. nothing stood out, at least nothing of interest.

the heiress found herself walking back to the entrance, scrolling through her phone to get her butler to pick her up. as she dialed, screams and cheers could be heard from the gym.

she should've known better than to enter, but wonyoung's facade was wearing her down. the newly impulsive jang crept inside, more and more yelling filling her skull. it wasn't angry yelling, but a cheerful one.

she didn't understand what could be so interesting.

the heiress felt herself getting swept away, a sudden crowd forming around one of the players as the final whistle blew.

her eyes trained onto the figure, two adults, seemingly the girl's parents, hugging her tightly as the girl cried.

the girl was perfect in every sense, from her face to the way she smiled. she didn't doubt that the older girl probably had perfect grades, and a perfect family, with a set of perfect friends.

the crowd around her roared, and wonyoung realized that the girl in front of her was so loved, so respected, all because she was perfect.

to love someone is to do the right thing.

one day, she'd be perfect enough to have her parents love her. one day, she'll feel like she wasn't a mistake, that she wasn't worthless.

and one day, someday, wonyoung would be perfect enough to mention her name once more.

she'll do the right thing this time.

wonyoung was going to be perfect.

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taglist (CLOSED)!!

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#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

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syringesyrup · 7 months

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i’ve been saying this on twitter but i’ll say it here too. if u are an artist, u need to learn how to draw people of color and any body type that isn’t a sickly victorian child because i see it way too often in this fandom. cumulus is fat aether is fat omega is fat and i am so tired of seeing people draw them with skinny ass waists and skinny ass limbs. and of course it’s like half of the artists in this fandom are allergic to adding some texture to swiss’ hair or coloring his skin correctly or giving him an ounce of black features. a lot of u preach that this fandom is a safe space but never ever do ur part to call out the blatant racism/fatphobia/and misogyny that we all see on a day to day basis. art references are free so feel free to use them and learn how to draw !

#ghost bc #the band ghost #the band ghost fanart #ghost bc fanart

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jarofstyles · 1 year

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Sugar Sugar 10

Hello my loves! Enjoy sugar sugar 10…. Things are about to thicken 👀👀👀

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

Warnings: fatphobia, witchcraft, the usual

Series masterlist

—-

His new couch was stupidly comfortable.

Y/N was laid across it, her head in Harry’s lap as they appropriately watched a home makeover show. After the deliveries and some organizing they’d called it a day and got their dinner delivered, leading to wine and laying on the new couch to ‘break it in’, as Harry put it. Neither were drunk, just enough wine to make the warm feeling cover them like a blanket. His fingers stroked her hair as they sat in a comfortable silence.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to fall right to sleep.” She warned him, eyes closed as she relished in his comfort. His thighs were perfectly toned, and he had changed into some soft blue sweatpants so that only added to her comfort. Her cheek rubbed against the fabric as she adjusted slightly, taking a deep breath while she felt his chuckle under her. The digits twirled a strand around, the motions making her melt further into him.

His place was more comfortable now. Even with boxes waiting to be unpacked and a pile of trash in the corner, Y/N had lit a vanilla tobacco scented candle and set up his coffee table to at least seem a bit more presentable, the flickering of the flame capturing her attention. Y/N loved candles and fire, incorporating a lot of that into her spell work. She was drawn to warm colors and feelings. It made sense she was drawn to Harry.

“That’s alright.” He murmured. “You can if you’d like.” There was a tiny bit of worry in his stomach for suggesting it so early on but he really would love for her to sleep here. They were waiting on his new bed frame to be delivered but it was doable for now.

With every new relationship, Harry knew that perhaps it was a difficult thing to find the timing of each milestone. When was too soon or too late to do things. Sleepovers, sex, meeting family, moving in. What was the timeline? Had anyone ever written a book about it? It would make sense if they didn’t, though, because relationships weren’t linear. That’s a mistake a lot of people seemed to make from his own nosy observations.

“I really would love to, but I’ve got no clothes.” She pouted, turning in his lap to look up at him. “Got to open the shop tomorrow too. Otherwise I would.” Y/N was beginning to become a bit greedy with his attention. Never had anyone so willingly and easily given her the attention she had always craved but thought to be selfish to ask for. He handed it over on a silver platter and offered her seconds. If she was comfortable enough sleeping naked with him, perhaps she would… but it was taking her a bit.

“Did you want to borrow some of mine?”

Harry had said it with such innocence, such a genuine tone that Y/N felt awful for giggling. Her hand raising to her mouth as she laughed quietly, stopping herself from actually laughing out loud as she shook her head. “Harry- my darling, you’re so kind. So sweet.” She sat upright, turning to him and pulling him in for a tiny kiss of appreciation. “Your clothes would fit my right thigh. It’s not a bad thing at all. I’m just not the size for that.”

With anyone else it would be embarrassing to admit that. It still kind of was underneath the surface level amusement, but she wasn’t ashamed like she used to be. Harry was muscular, sure, and she didn’t feel giant next to him, but he was small in terms of clothes. His shirt would work in a pinch, maybe, but she wasn’t going to be able to wear his stuff as sleep clothes. At least not now.

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed slightly, unsure how to respond. She didn’t seem upset and he genuinely hadn’t thought of that, but he still felt bad. “M’sorry.” He apologized quietly, letting her take the lead. “I mean, I’m sure some of it would work but I want you to be comfortable. Maybe…” he pinched his bottom lip in thought. “Maybe you could bring some stuff over in case we get to this point again? When it’s late and we hang out and you decide you don’t want to go home?”

He was essentially offering her a drawer. If Harry was full of one thing, it would be surprises. Y/N looked at him in slight shock, realizing he was deadly serious about the offer. He wanted her to keep clothes here just in case. A step she hadn’t been expecting in the slightest, but one that managed to make her giddy internally. Y/N had a bad habit of letting herself think that maybe she was the one feeling more in every single one of her friendships and relationships. A lot of the time , unfortunately, it had been proven to be true. This time, with Harry taking the leap, it seemed like maybe that wasn’t the case.

“Sure.” She said slowly, a little smile growing on her lips. “I’d really like that, actually. I…” There was a pause as she tried to gather the correct words she wanted to say. “Thank you.” Is what she settled on. “For not trying to like… undermine me and how I feel about it. Or lie and say I’d definitely fit. Those types of things used to really irritate me.”

Harry had to wonder what sorts of relationships she had been in that would make her thank him for such simple things. To be listened to and not brushed off. It wasn’t even a matter of her fitting more so seeing how she could possibly be uncomfortable with the idea. Harry wasn’t an idiot, nor was he unaware of her size. It just simply didn’t matter to him. He found her to be stunning. Her body was a vessel for all the things he had liked about her, and he loved how she looked regardless of what other people may have said or implied in the past.

“You really don’t have to thank me for that, Sugar.” He replied, taking her hand into his own and rubbed over her knuckles. “If you aren’t comfortable with something, if you would rather wear your own things, I’m happy with that. Your happiness and comfort here is what I want.” He wouldn’t be a whiny little boy or feign ignorance. Y/N had been someone he immediately felt comfortable around and his hopes were to be that person for her as well.

There weren’t proper words for a response, so she decided to kiss him instead.

The next morning, Y/N opened up the shop with a happy song humming underneath her breath. The sun was warm on her skin through the windows, dusting off the shelves as her patchwork skirt flowed behind her. The new incense had been lit and the oil diffusing as she worked, the sweet smell lifting her mood dramatically. She had been feeling a little sad that she hadn’t stayed with Harry the night before, but his send off had almost made up for it. He had a sinfully good mouth when it came to kisses and it had been almost impossible to rip herself from his hands but she would have stayed all night leaned against his car if she didn’t move away.

Her lips still felt tingly as she smiled to herself. Harry was a large percentage of her mind this morning and she didn’t think anyone would blame her.

A few things occupied the other spaces in her brain. The new shipments out in the back room, payroll, the new moon, and the tugging feeling for her own tarot reading. She woke up knowing she needed to do one for herself as she usually did when the cards had something to tell her. That was the last on her agenda for today.

The shop’s energy was fantastic today. The cleansing Delilah had done the night before had done wonders for the area, an easy breath floating through her body. Y/N loved her shop, loved her little place she had built and been able to sustain herself with quite comfortably. With the times changing and more people becoming open to spirituality, new practices and people doing what they wanted, it hadn’t been a better time for business. Growing up with the knowledge and yearning for growth that she had been blessed with had managed to help her tremendously.

As soon as Delilah had clocked in, Y/N headed towards the back room to unpack some of the new inventory. Rose quartz spheres she had sourced, some new sphere stands, some tiger’s eye carvings and other mineral specimens. A new tarot deck had come out that she managed to snag with the most beautiful artwork she had seen had been something else she had been called to order, the girl taking one and setting it aside for herself.

Grabbing the pricing stickers, she began to write down the prices of each piece and got lost in the 70’s classics. It was one of her favorite things to do. Sitting back and doing the busywork, her energy contained back here as she hear people enter the shop and make their first sales of the day. She could hear her second employee, Lily, come in and hang up her bag with a chirpy hello before going back out to the floor.

All was fine and good- until it wasn’t.

Y/N didn’t quite know how to explain it to people who didn’t feel it first hand, but without being cliche, she could feel the energy change. Like a lively flower being covered by a storm cloud, wilting in front of your eyes. Prickling of skin as the temperature changed, a shoe being dropped. Her hair stood up in the back of her neck, a quietness filling the usually lively and soft shop as all that remained was the music that even seemed to be quieted by the unwelcomed energy. There was something Y/N had called the ‘knowing’, or that’s what she called it. Whatever the energy was, it was here for her. Standing up, she covered her shoulders in her wraps to metaphorically protect herself from whatever it was, listening to a voice murmur and Delilah speaking crisp and clear.

“I’m sorry, the owner is on a call. Can I help you?” Her voice was no nonsense, no doubt being able to feel the atrocious air around the person and not wanting Y/N to have to be bothered, but they both knew. They always did.

“Actually, I just finished it. I have another in a second.” She called, approaching the door behind the register. Taking a breath, she opened the door and stepped out.

Immediately she could see that this customer wasn’t here because she wanted a crystal. There was something else brewing in her mind. Her hackles raised in her mind, though her spine straightened and she kept her head up as she met icy blue eyes across the counter. “How can I help you?”

The woman was beautiful. There was no denying that. Lithe and sharp, her lips pouted and painted a bright red, she was very much old Hollywood type of beautiful. Straight, glossy honey blonde hair fell down her shoulders, her handbag clutched in the crook of her arm. She looked like someone Y/N would compliment when she came on screen at an awards show, saying how she liked her makeup or dress. Dressed in all black without a spot or wrinkle, she looked like she stepped out of a film too. Large diamond earrings sparkled as she moved her hair and gave a smile that was far too big, giving Y/N a once over.

Y/N wasn’t unused to this. The raised eyebrows, the slight noises, the scanning of her body. It wasn’t a friendly thing. It was judgment, sizing up, for whatever reason. She never really could quite place why people would do these types of things. Get that look of pity, or disgust at someone who looked different from them. Why what other people looked like mattered to them, she never would be sure. However, one thing she did know for sure was that the once overs would never end, and this woman did not come for a good reason.

“Hello. I’m Claire.” She replied. “I was just in town, exploring a bit, and decided to step into here. I heard about it from some locals. My brother is a big fan of Harry Potter, so I thought when they said there was a Witchcraft store they’d meant something themed after that.” She gave a chuckle which Y/N only nodded to. “I didn’t think it would be… serious.” She looked around again, icy eyes staring at the books and guides and tarot decks with a little wrinkle in her nose. “Is it a gimmick? You don’t actually believe in all this stuff, right? The readings and crystals and all that. I’ve seen plenty of these things at fairs and stuff, so I’m assuming its a bit like that. For the children. There’s no way grown adults can believe in stuff like this.”

Delilah stiffened slightly, raising her own manicured brow but not saying anything yet. This was Y/N’s conversation and she could handle it like a grown woman. This wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time she got this from someone who walked in. There were always skeptics. That wasn’t inherently a bad or disrespectful thing. In fact, Y/N liked it when people had a healthy dose of skepticism because it meant they wouldn’t be fooled by people hoping to make a quick buck or scare them into giving them more money. People would always be skeptic of things they couldn’t understand and with things of the magic variety? It was understandable. People could believe whatever they wanted to. Sometimes people came in simply to learn about it and decide for themselves.

However, people like Claire? They already had their minds made up. The joking as if they were going to go along with it, the condescending tone, it was a show she had seen so many times before. Not to mention the dark cloud she had hovering around her. Almost like a lack of an aura, a cloudy life force. Something corrupt was following her and embedding in her veins. Nothing Y/N nor Delilah wanted a part in.

“We do, yes. We all believe in different things, and that’s alright. Life would be very dull without a bit of magic.” Y/N gave a little smile to the woman. “It could be called a witchcraft store. You can get supplies here for that. We mainly sell crystals and offer readings, palms, tarot, oracle, and we have guest mediums as well. It’s alright if you don’t believe in it. Everyone can have their own opinion as long as it isn’t disrespecting the very people in the room.” Her hand ran over the stack of crystal bracelets she had on her hand. “Is there something we can help you find? Did you want to learn?” She looked towards Delilah. “D, can you sweep a bit please?”

The girl smirked, nodding her head as she grabbed the broom and began to sweep towards the door.

An old trick. Sweep when you wanted a guest to leave. It worked every single time.

“Oh. Well… I suppose I thought we all grew up and stopped entertaining things that were useless.” Another viper-like smile made Y/N want to roll her eyes. The woman wanted a reaction. “I was just in the bakery across the street. The young woman said the owner wasn’t there but I was curious if you knew him? How to get a hold of him?”

There it was. A dark pit in her stomach rising to her throat, her eyes meeting Delilah’s across the room. She watched as she grabbed a spray, spritzing it in the air before putting it down.

This was why she was here. To get ahold of Harry. And she didn’t like the intention she felt from her. Not in a jealous way, though that had a little to do with it. But… a way in which made her suspicious. If she knew Harry, she should have his number. Harry hadn’t divulged much about his life before moving here but she had an inkling he wanted to start over. He wanted freedom. Y/N would be damned if she let someone from his past come and stomp all over the good thing he had started here. Her gut told her to throw her off his trail.

“I’ve met him a few times before. Lovely person. He’s not in often, but I don’t have any way you could reach him. I’m sorry.”

She watched as the woman cleared her throat, beginning to back towards the door. “Oh. Well, the employees said you two are friends.” Irritation was visible in her eyes and it made Y/N smile internally.

“I wouldn’t call us friends.” She would call him more.

“Ah. Makes sense.” The woman let out a cough, looking around at the store once again. “The incense in here is too strong.” The protection incense. Ha. “But if you see him, can you tell him that I stopped by?” There was something devilish in her tone that made her bristle. Y/N wouldn’t call herself easily irritated but this woman managed to do it to her. Pissed her off immensely. Her intentions were to cause problems. Not just for her, but for Harry. She had no clue why, but the level of protectiveness she felt towards her boyfriend raised quite a few notches. It would be her mission to keep this woman out.

“If I see him.”

Delilah continued sweeping at the door, pushing it open and letting the woman out.

As soon as she left, Y/N felt like she could properly breathe again.

“My god.” Delilah exhaled. “She’s got some dark shit attached to her.”

“Or she is the dark shit.” Y/N retorted, grabbing a cleansing bundle and lighting it up. “That was awful. I felt her as soon as I walked in.” Y/N had seen her fair share of bad energy in people but this had felt deep, dark and personal. The woman probably hid it well to others, a gorgeous face and body, good acting skills, but nothing could hide a true intention.

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evander2511 · 9 months

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Dude, thank you so much for these reblogs and hearts; I did not expected to have such a nice surprise. If I can ask- what is bothering you the most in Helluva/Hazbin (f. ex. writting, worldbuilding, characters) and what do you actually like about it (if there is anything)?

You're welcome

What's bother me about helluva boss?

Bothering me about the show

1. The main thing that bothering me about helluva boss is the portrayal of abuser that's obviously stella and i really appreciated you make that post regarding stella as an abuser. Some abuser like paimon and stella are really feel like villain cartoon instead of actual abuser you know i found ironic the fandom actually can give much more accurate depiction stella and paimon. When that job supposed to be on the writer not the fandom. I'm gonna said this disney character who's abuser like judge frollo, mother gothel, lady tremaine, odalia blight even though disney is famous for their villain who's over the top their villain who's abuser come far more accurate than stella. Crimson he's actually quite accurate but he lack the motivation, the screentime showing us how before he become abusive, less making him the reason he's abuse moxxie just because he hated him(i remember reading one of the post with the tag helluva boss critical vivziepop portrayal of abuser is just black and white if i remember correctly).

2. The other thing that bother me is inconsistent from world building, character, story, lore.

3. The character who are supposed to be horrible person are not being acknowledge as horrible person, to simplify it blitzo and stolas are gary sue both are never being punished including loona she's also a mary sue well more precisely jerk sue.

4. Some heavy topic or social commentary in this show are being handle poorly

5. The character design are just terrible

6. Helluva boss is pro rich show

7. Portrayal of demon just not that great like they can make the demon more neutral or something like ok we have evil demon then we have another demon who's more neutral

8. The normalizing of SA, fatphobia, rape, toxic and parasocial relationship, abusive relationship, infedility

9. Infact this show demonize people who have valid anger like octavia and stella toward stolas, barbie wire and verosika toward blitzo

10. The lack of development and depth on female character

11. The creator immaturity

12. Too much villain but don't even bother to developing the villain and making them interesting. Striker he's threatening but then become a joke

13. Colorism the character with darker skintone often potrayed in a very bad light. Verosika crew who's incubus most of them are brown and darker skintone as prosmicuous and abuser. Barbie wire human disguises who's darker skintone is a groomer

14. Ableism the r word and moxxie character that is shown to have autistic trait but of course stolas gonna be mention first instead of moxxie since their favorite uwu sad boi come first. Moxxie actually did show sign of autistic behavior but i only see a few people mention it. Blitzo ableist behavior is not being hold accountable

15. Antisemitism the greedy jewish people in the first episode of helluva boss

The thing i liked on this show

1. The voice acting

2. The animation

3. The fighting scene is great

4. Angst teen trope being done right

That's all i can think about what i liked on helluva boss

#helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critical #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #colorism #ableism #antisemitism #moxxie helluva boss #millie helluva boss #verosika mayday #helluva boss verosika #blitzo helluva boss #stolas helluva boss #stella helluva boss #octavia helluva boss #helluva boss asmodeus #fizzaroli helluva boss #helluva boss striker #paimon helluva boss

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ebi-noodle-doodles · 4 months

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I think that last anon was incredibly rude and very, very suspicious. I'm also a fat person, and I think your art is just fine the way it is.

This anon accuses you of having a fat fetish for using peach to shade, doesn't give you the name of the artist they think you're emulating, and then tell you (not asking politely, on your own blog where they are a guest, TELL) you to put body hair on Miku.

Not to mention, why are they recognizing a style from a fat fetish artist if they aren't on the fat fetish side of twitter themselves, enough to have picked up on this supposed artist's style, down to the shading?

Sure, Twitter is wild, you'll see plenty of things you aren't necessarily looking for, but this reads as someone who is trying very hard not to let you see them sweating. What are they doing at the devil's sacrament, pointing out all of the sinners there, tactfully not pointing at themselves as one of the people included amongst the crowd.

If they didn't say "teehee I'm a fat girl btw <33 nasty nasty fetishists <33" at the end, wouldn't you think this message is situationally inappropriate? This is the internet, this person is anonymous, and that means they can lie if they feel like it.

You shouldn't even believe me or care when I say I'm fat, because I too am anonymous, and you simply can't fact check me. Even off anon, I don't share pictures of myself online, because I know better than to trust the internet at large.

If they are not outright malicious

(people will do this when they themselves fetishize fat women for the sake of getting art they think is hot; kind of like people saying "fat women can't be sexy" so fat women will post suggestive pictures of themselves to prove the statement incorrect, especially so they can pick and choose through which images they like. This is Creep Behavior, to use negging to manipulate people into sharing racey pictures)

then they are outright very, very rude, despite their friendly tone. This is YOUR blog, your art is fantastic, and nobody should be coming into your house, telling you how to run things.

Personally, I think the shapes and textures you draw are aesthetically pleasing, and your color choices always go together very nicely, especially when pink and green can clash really bad if you're not careful. Please don't let some misguided person (or worse, a creep) tell you what to do. You've gotten as far as you have on your own just fine, because you're doing your own thing.

In your response to anon, you said

"I find it weird that when a “normal” character is posed something suggestive its just a drawing but when added a bit weight it becomes a “fetish” ????"

(https://www.tumblr.com/ebi-noodle-doodles/739308628074496000/im-really-not-trying-to-be-rude-but-your-pure)

and I could not agree with you more.

Why is it a fetish that Miku is fat? I look an awful lot like her, and it's nice to be represented in art, suggestive or otherwise. Why is this person coming at you like you're a freak pervert that needs to be corrected, when you're just drawing a character?

Why is fat considered inherently unattractive, the only people allowed to enjoy it being (implied) nasty, disgusting, morally deficit fetishists, when "normal" or "skinny" body types are left alone? Why are we treating body fat as morally reprehensible, and not just a thing people sometimes have?

If this person really is fat, they have a lot of internalized fatphobia to let go of, and if they're a fetishist they need to learn better manners.

And thank you, for being generous enough to share your art with the world. Sorry for the lengthy message as well. Your Miku is very cute, and I look forwards to seeing more of your art in the future :]

- 🐺🕷️ (Wolf Spider Anon)

Ive been self debating and doubting if what I’m doing is bad or that Ive done something wrong especially on illustrating her in a suggestive manner

Thank you for understanding my view. The reply timing is off as I’m still trying to understand myself if my coloring it self was wrong… are my poses off? Is it rude to draw her like this? I didnt take the anon’s comment as rude but i did feel some guilt that i feel i shouldnt have? Man i dont understand I’m dumb when it comes to these sort of stuff. I just answered truthfully on thoughts about that. All I know is I enjoy painting her, suggestively, happy, innocently or cute! I just like drawing her. Youll see more of her in blog hopefully :D

#thank you for taking the time to type all of these!#anon #reply #ask #chubby miku replies #chubby miku #miku related tag #miku related post #vocaloid related post #vocaloid related tag

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skaruresonic · 6 months

Text

Sonic is probably the only game series where fatphobia is largely absent. You'd think Eggman's weight would make him an easy target for mockery, but aside from "giant talking egg" and perhaps laughing a little too loudly at "Baldy McNosehair," Sonic refrains from mocking his foe's physical appearance.

I like to think the implication is that Sonic regards a person's character more than their appearance. It's actually kind of funny too since he's likelier to make fun of Eggman being old or loud than fat. In Battle he remarks "the old guy sure seems excited about something."

I suppose... there are a few moments in the Pontaff era where he skirts the line, but they're not really anything more than fleeting moments. He rubs his stomach when looking at his Classic self in Generations and recommends "diet and exercise" to Zomom. I think that's one of the few times he actually mocked someone for their appearance. While getting hit with a huge sandwich. Lol though I thought we don't talk about LW anyway.

As a matter of fact, I'd argue Eggman acts as positive fat representation. He subverts the trope of fat men being portrayed in media as unintelligent and lazy by serving a role as the series' villain. By being the most cunning, persistent, and intelligent character in the cast. That's a part of the reason why this insistence on downplaying his intelligence via his supposed inability to plan bugs me. Why are you in favor of taking away that which makes him unique?

I usually mention Eggman in this regard, but we mustn't neglect his grandfather. Gerald is not treated like a buffoon for his physique, but a brilliant and tragic figure in his own right, responsible for some of the greatest and most terrifying advancements in his world. The games rightfully grant him the gravitas he deserves. He was a deep thinker and a philanthropist, with a surprisingly more complex character than other series would probably have afforded him. The games have Shadow's respect for the Professor extend even as far as continuing to call his grandson by his title of "Doctor." ShTH pays his memory further respect when the Commander and President agree to work toward a brighter future. I love it.

Unleashed features NPCs of all skin colors and body types. Fat characters are presented without fanfare, simply existing as ordinary human beings alongside their thin counterparts.

In addition, there's a sidequest where you can get a Spagonia student, Dora, with her crush, David, who reciprocates her attraction. The situation is not treated like a punchline or a joke. Dora looks like this:

I was actually rather shocked because that almost never happens in games.

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star-girl69 · 2 years

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Thanks for letting me know!

Could you do a Aemond x plussize/curvy reader where she overhears the other ladies at court talking about her negatively and she runs off, Aemond sees her running and crying before asking a guard present what happened before getting mad at the ladies and going off to find her?

just lots of praise and reassurance! Maybe a little lemon towards the end? Up to you

Thank you!💕

ok i love this request a lot and their relationship status wasn’t specified but i’m currently obsessed w aemond/betrothed!reader so i made them betrothed i hope that’s ok!!! i hope you all enjoy!

warnings: mentions of fatphobia, reader crying, tell me if i missed anything!

My World

—-

Lady Redwyne was a jealous woman. She was around your age, power hungry and beautiful. She had been yearning to marry one of the Prince’s with a passion, and with Aegon being married to Helaena, she set her sights on Aemond.

She threw herself at him, and being a Lady of the court yourself, you often watched as he subtly pushed her off of him and took a step back. She seemed not to notice, or if she did, was too confident in the ability of her bosom to charm him.

When Prince Aemond requested your hand, the court was shocked. You included. You knew you were not like the other women at court, but had learned to accept it. You rested your hopes on the promise of true love, something you had learned from translated Valyrian poems. You placed all your eggs into that basket.

Your courting was mostly you trying to prepare for the inevitable, him changing his mind, and him trying to win you over. The amount of gifts you have from those few months is astounding. But, negotiations were finalized, and the betrothal went through. You still didn’t quite believe it, but Aemond was just so… Aemond.

He amazed you, astounded you. Sometimes you wondered if you could even go a day without seeing him. You had grown to love him, to need him like air, and you could not bear to lose him. While doubts still rested in your mind- Aemond learned to coax your fears out, and ease them. He would get on his knees in front of you, hold you tight so you could not grow embarrassed and escape. He would caress your waist and thighs, occasionally pressing a kiss to your stomach. He would touch every inch of you, whisper that you were his, and he would not allow what was his to have any doubts about his love.

And you loved it. You loved being his, loved your life at court. You loved Princess Helaena and Queen Alicent, you loved Aemond.

So, when Lady Redwyne made another comment to you during Queen Alicent’s tea, you did not flinch at first.

“I’m sure you and the Prince will entertain at least a few children,” You heard the meaning behind her words. He would only bed you because he had to, for his family, for the continuation of the Targaryen house. But she made this comment every time she saw you, and it was the one you had grown to ignore.

“Yes, Prince Aemond tells me often about his wish for children. As soon as we are married, I’m sure my stomach will swell.” A few ladies at your table smiled kindly, not as jealous as Lady Redwyne.

Once she realized her comment had not affected you, she smiled as kindly as she could through her hatred, and turned her head. You had no doubt she gagging, the mere thought of you with Aemond enough to bring her to sickness.

But, you brushed her off. Instead turning to the Lady beside you, answering a question she had asked you.

Lady Redwyne was thorn in your side, but you can ignore her, as long as you have Aemond.

—-

It was much later in the evening, and the sun set in the distance, turning the sky into a beautiful mural of colors. You looked out the window, simply admiring.

This particular window of the palace was quite hidden, and you enjoyed the moments of peace. Sometimes it was nice to sit in your aloneness, in your peace.

Your moment was interrupted by the sounds of shuffling feet, dresses gracing the floor, soft voices. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, but they spoke loudly, without consideration as to who might here.

You sighed, the beautiful sunset making you think of Aemond. You would love to share this with him, but knew that his beauty outshined the sun. You would end up staring at him the entire time, and he would tease you. While you loved every word that dripped from his pretty lips, his teasing of your was your least favorite.

“-Prince Aemond-” You perked up, ears straining to hear more. You knew he was due to come to this feast soon, and perhaps he was here. Your heart squeezed. “I do not know why he chose Lady Y/N. I am the much better choice, am I not?” A chorus of agreement. “I mean-” Lady Redwyne’s voice dropped, “just look at her.”

You had long since sworn that you would not let Lady Redwyne bother you, but something about the sunset, about Aemond, about this night, made her words hit you. No one had ever talked about you like this before. Such blatant insults.

“I could comment on her hair,” You brushed a piece behind your ear, “or perhaps those long-sleeved dresses she is so fond of wearing, but I should only say the obvious. Her hips too wide, her waist not slim enough, why, I could go on!” Her voice raised to a laugh at the end, and the group around her joined.

Why was she so mean to you?

You had never done anything to her, never insulted her like she insulted you, never rubbed it in her face that Aemond had chosen you and not her. You had been nothing but a true lady, gracious and kind.

Perhaps you were missing something, but you just did not understand.

So, you emerged from your hiding spot, tears trailing down your face. She was facing you, and her eyes widened as she spotted you.

You couldn’t bear to look at her any longer, tearing through the crowd and to the side hallway. You wiped your tears, not paying attention as you turned the corner. You gasped as you slammed into someone, their arms coming out to steady you.

You looked up to see Aemond’s wonderful face. But not even him could heal your wounds.

He smiled down at you, before it turned into a frown. “Are you crying?”

You choked back a sob, turning away.

“Who hurt you? What happened?” He moved his hand to your chin, tilting your head up. “Tell me, my love, please.”

And you could not face the embarrassment, the shame. So you tore yourself out of his arms, and ran back to your chambers.

—-

It was only a half hour later when he entered, and your tears had not stopped. You begged and wished you could just forget what had happened, but you couldn’t. He approached the bed quickly, taking you into his arms.

“Aemond, I-”

“Shh, my love. It’s alright. A guard overheard, told me what happened. I will have Lady Redwyne removed from court for saying such vile things about you, this you have my word on.”

“It’s not about that, Aemond.” He had pulled you in to straddle his lap, and you pulled back now. His hands held your shoulder blades tight, almost afraid you would run away again. “Her words are true. I am not beautiful- I do not know why you love me. Why you comfort me always, I- I know you deserve better.”

He seemed almost hurt by your words.

“Your words disgust me. I will not hear you talk about yourself this way. I will not hear such lies.”

“It is the truth, Aemond!” You cried more now, and pressed your palms against his shoulders, trying in vain to pull away. He wrapped his arms around you waist, trapping you. A bird in a beautiful cage, with a handsome view.

“It is not.”

“It is! I do not deserve you- you should marry someone else, instead of me. I am not worthy of you.” His eyes darkened.

“It is I who is not worthy of you, Y/N. Your beauty astounds me each day, with each breath that you take. You are my entire world, Y/N. I would have no one else but you, no one else to hold, no one else to love.”

If this was before, you would have smiled, thanked him sheepishly. Buried your face into his neck, feel his hand creep into your hair as he softly chuckled at your flushed expression.

But Lady Redwyne had hurt you, deeply.

But it was Aemond, it was your Aemond, and he would not lie to you. He had proven it a thousand times over, and you believed him. Perhaps it was foolish, but you believed him.

“You are sure?” He seemed relieved, as you stopped your attempts to get away from him, instead folding into his arms like a limp thing.

“More than anything, my love. You are my world, this I swear to you.”

He leans you back onto the pillows and sheets, hands coming up to rub soothing circles into your temples. He settles in between your legs, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Maybe it is selfish, but you want him all to yourself.

His lips press along your jawline, trail lower to your neck.

You are reminded of that sunset, that peace. Maybe Aemond is your peace.

“I am enough for you?”

“You are the only thing I think of, my love.”

Your body betrays you, and your eyes close to the feel of this thumbs massaging your temples and his lips along your neck. Messy, soft, open-mouthed kisses.

Perhaps it is selfish, but you need the peace he gives you to keep you sane. Perhaps it is selfish, but you want him all to yourself- all the time.

“Aemond?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your eyes already closed. He hums, the sweetest answer. “Would you let me have you all to myself?”

“You already have me, my world.” You can feel his smile as he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Would you let me have you all to myself?”

You repeat his answer, and it is enough. You are enough.

—-

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon

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