#cw: body image issues

[martianbugsbunny]

Every Bit Of You (A HatterHare Fic)

*falls out of sky* *lands ungracefully on tea table* Hi! I’ve seen that some people in the AiW HatterHare fandom don’t really read fic for them unless it’s a fun lil romp a la the show, and that’s fair, but I’m not very good at writing fluff of that variety so I didn’t. This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while, basically since I watched “He’s Not Heavy, He’s My Hatter” bc I think they went a joke or a few too far in that episode, but also because I was having a bit of a rough time (still am, but that’s another story) and it’s a bit of projection/venting. CW for this: body image issues, some negative thoughts about appearance/weight/food. If the warning does not contain anything that you don’t want to read or would be upset by reading, go forth.

Hatter stared at himself in the mirror. He was dressed down to his undershirt and a pair of polka-dotted sleeping pants, and he had finally taken off that day’s coat of mauve lipstick about five minutes ago. His hat hung on a mannequin head attached to the wall, his strawberry-blonde hair slightly mussed without it.

Had he gained a few pounds? He examined his figure, frowning slightly. Hare had shared a new carrot soufflé recipe with him and he had definitely eaten a bit more in the past couple of days than usual. What could he say—having a hare for a husband had, among other things, convinced him of the deliciousness of root vegetables.

Hatter sighed. He hated to lose his trim shape, even temporarily; he wasn’t sure he had the eye appeal to spare. He didn’t think there was anything particularly unique about his face (unless maybe it was that his eyebrows were so big and wild), but he could always count on his slim physique to make him feel attractive.

Hare exited the bathroom, hair and ears slightly damp, with his freshly-showered waterlily scent clinging to him and filling the room. “Something wrong, Hatter?” he asked, pausing to tilt his head and tap the water out of one ear.

“I’m just…having one of those days,” Hatter answered, his shoulders slumping. “Nothing seems right, especially me.”

Hare immediately came over and wrapped his arms around Hatter’s waist, meeting his eyes through the mirror glass. “You’re all rights to me,” he said gently, kissing Hatter’s shoulder. “But go on, tell me what you’re feeling insecure about. Maybe I can help.”

Hatter, for once, was at a complete loss for words. It wasn’t that Hare didn’t have his own worries about his looks—he did, being one of only two bunny-like creatures in Wonderland, and he was vocal about those feelings when they became particularly acute. It was more that Hatter was used to being there for Hare, when his anxieties flared, and despite knowing that Hare would understand, he didn’t know what to say.

So he just took Hare’s hands and placed them on his own midsection, which was undeniably a bit softer to the touch than it had been a week ago.

Hare smiled, tracing the planes of Hatter’s stomach beneath his shirt. “First of all, you look very cute,” he said. “I know it’s not enough, but you do.” And it wasn’t, Hare was right; not for getting rid of that nagging, lingering, sharp little part of Hatter’s mind that kept whispering you aren’t handsome enough—but he still felt the usual warmth that came with one of Hare’s frequent compliments. “Second, I don’t care what shape you are. I don’t care how much you weigh or how much you eat. You are always handsome to me, and I don’t compare you to yourself.”

Hatter managed a small half-smile back, though he couldn’t quite take his eyes off the reflection in the mirror.

“I love this little bit of softness here that tells me you really like my Hare-family recipes.” Hare moved one hand to trip along the curve of Hatter’s bicep. “I love that you’ve got extra muscles here from lifting teapots and teakettles and heavy mixing bowls.” He nudged the back of Hatter’s right leg with his foot. “I love the scar here from when we rode a shopping cart down that big hill.”

Hare went and stood between Hatter and the mirror, taking his hands. “And whatever else your body looks like in the future, I will love that, too.”

So it still didn’t smooth over everything pricking in Hatter’s brain—he knew that wasn’t that easy. But he was able to lie in bed, with his arms wrapped tightly around Hare, reassured that Hare wasn’t thinking about him the way he thought about himself. And that was a comfort.

[rbchild]

Chapters: 2/8 Fandom: Tatort (TV 1970) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Leo Hölzer/Adam Schürk Characters: Leo Hölzer, Adam Schürk Additional Tags: Kid Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gunshot Wounds, Psychological Trauma, Aftermath, Body Image, Healing Series: Part 22 of Familie ist... Summary:

Heilung ist ein Prozess. Sie geschieht nicht über Nacht, und manchmal muss man Rückschläge in Kauf nehmen. Leos fällt es schwer, zu akzeptieren, dass in seinem Leben nicht auf einen Schlag alles wieder so sein kann wie vor dem Schuss. Und dass der körperliche Heilungsprozess vielleicht nicht die einzige Hürde ist, die sich ihm und seiner Familie in den Weg stellt.

Die Zeit nach dem Schuss im “Familie ist…” - Universum.

[candyswirls]

Fulgrim is a foodie

TW: mentions of food, eating, skipping meals, lack of food, talk of body weight/body image

(Please let me know if I need to add any tags for triggers/warnings)

I feel like Fulgrim would be a foodie.

He grew up with not much and having to work hard. Probably skipping a few meals more than once so others could have his portion.

Then as Chemos began to prosper and become sustainable he’d slowly move from being very careful and sparse with food to eating more. Overcoming feeling bad about it.

He probably was really thin and skinny then started to bulk. @/taythecatfey’s design of him is how I imagine him/the Primarch’s in body type.

Eating habits can and are hard to break (some things of food I refuse to throw out due to how I grew up and food related trauma). So he’d try to make sure he didn’t eat in excessive but well.

But whenever there was a feast or a planet they came across welcomed them with food he’d totally be down to try their cuisine. Eat his fill, try everything.

He probably has a sweet tooth. Hiding how excited he is for dessert. Has several stashes of candy and snacks.

Then he fell to chaos God of excess. Eat your fill. Enjoy it. You want more? Go crazy. Enjoy yourself. Here’s N’Kari who is well fed and looks it.

He deserves to eat well and I don’t think he’d do diets to maintain his physique. He knows the importance of food plus he’s a Primarch.

[vickdoom]

off-model fanart footnotes for that previous post. People sometimes post these, no?

[screams-in-writing]

Hehehehehehehe :)

This got longer than expected, but hey, more to read, right? A little background explanation, then there’ll be that preview of what I’ll eventually get to in the fic with mc/reader and Mr. Puzzles.

Keep in mind the fics tags/warnings of the fic since this isn’t on ao3 yet (I’ll tag some things for the post)

Also- note that what’s written here may be subject to some change once the chapters prior to it are posted (and that more edits may be done).

Context-this would be once reader and Mr puzzles are on better terms and have actually spent time together-like some of the other snippets I did where mr puzzles shows himself to be very in others space and touch starved. Like, there is interest in MC/reader yet not acted on, both trying to figure where the other stands on an unspoken friendship of around a month and a half (or two) whether it’s mixed with more since it seems a bit too fast for what little Mr. Puzzles has offered up of where he came from.

But teasing? Teasing and verbal sparring seems to be safe until it leads to a hug in the following future chapter. which would be fine for friends, but the whole hugging your friend while they’re shirtless while also checking them out a bit too closely and experiencing emotions is maybe a little past being just friends? Reverse strip tease I think? Hmu if this needs more tags. I think this is toeing the T rating even if I cut some things out.

Ok enough of me yammering. Short Mr puzzles pov, and then the mc/reader’s.

-

I didn’t anticipate for you to visit me at the edge of town in my pitiful, sparse home I’d claimed the first day I’d arrived. 

It was a welcome distraction, however. Though, spending time with you was becoming less a distraction and more surprisingly welcome company. The only problem was that it was not good timing on your part until I belatedly recall that you’d agreed to meet me here today. 

I’d even given you get a set of keys to the place after you convinced me to set locks into the small, dilapidated house if I really wanted to stay there. I highly doubted this would have been able to be done in a large city, without paying for the place. For some reason, there appeared to be pity for me here on town, and that allowed me to somehow stay here in this building for as long as I needed to. 

There is a knock on the door to the chosen ‘bedroom’ but instead of reacting, I found myself frozen in place as I realized my current predicament. I had just been doing some routine maintenance with the tools this world was able to provide for me, until I heard otherwise from SMG4. 

But this meant that I was not currently dressed for company. I was also so very exposed and it was nerve wracking to think of anyone seeing the upper half of my body without clothing covering it. All that was there was a black towel that I’d loosely wrapped around my neck to help me not stare at the mess my neck had become. What with all the wires underneath skin supporting my spine, and the way bits of wire and metal poked in and out of my skin without the protective layer of fabric I kept around the wires. 

I completely missed the sound of a key on a lock, signaling that you’d opened the front door and locked it. With rising trepidation, I realized I’d foolishly left my door half-open right before you knocked on it. Swiftly, I crossed my arms over my chest and abdomen Thank goodness I’d finished the internal inspection a half hour prior to this moment, while I attempted to work up the nerve to do see to my his back. But that would require me to take my head off, place it behind myself on a table and contort my arms to perform the inspection, though it would be difficult without the tools I needed Smg4 to agree to get to me.

“Puzzles?” It is you. “Are you in there?”

“Yes.” I stuttered. Goodness, I was not well-prepared to be around anyone. “Do give me one moment to get myself presentable-“ My screen flashed to worry upon hearing a soft intake of breath. My shoulders hunched up as I pressed my arms tightly over my front. “I am hideous at present, my dear.” I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice, refraining from smacking the side of my head to reset it forcibly. “Just…just let me find where I put my dress shirt. I’ll cover up and-“

“You’re not hideous, Puzzles.” You tell me patiently, entering the room with slow footsteps. 

I don’t quite believe it, but I feel there is sincerity in your voice. It made me relax somewhat. I even perked up when I heard curiosity next. 

“I’ve been wondering what you looked like without your dress shirt on all the time.” You commented, before adding. “More so different clothing styles, but also how the heck your body is shaped that way.”

“Oh? You’ve wanted to see me without my clothes? How scandalous.” I teased, slipping more comfortably into a showman attitude to hide the very real fear of the rejection that lurked in my mind that if you saw me without a persona and the confidence as well as the unsightliness of my exposed body, you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore. That you wouldn’t want to get closer to me more than you already were, despite how desperately I wanted to spend more time with you. 

“I can wait outside the room, if you’re uncomfortable with me seeing you like this. I thought you might be resting, after yesterday. Plus, you know, we’re supposed to hang out today and temporarily forget about work? Relax?”

“Relax.” I repeated dubiously, before sighing theatrically without moving my arms from their crossed position. “I do recall that being the plan now, my dear.”

“Do you want me to leave?” You asked again, not having taken another step toward me. 

I hesitate, considering. 

Usually, I never let anyone see me so vulnerable, and yet.  

And yet you and I have had some rather interesting heart to heart conversations over these past few months. It wouldn’t be too bad if I let you see some of me like this? Slowly, I lower my left arm, and held it out to the side, palm up and held rather steadily, I must admit. Then, scrounging up the courage before I changed my mind, I spoke softly as a contemplative expression settled over my face. “You may…come closer, but do not look at my front, please.” I pressed my right arm across my chest nervously. 

(There will be a transition of maybe a few more sentences before it switches to readers pov-so it would be technically a new chapter)

You wondered if you should insist that Mr. Puzzles didn’t have to do anything that made him this uncomfortable; hunched shoulders, leaning forward a touch, antenna poking up out of the hat twitching in what you could only presume was nerves. 

And yet, he held a hand up, clearly seeking comfort because you didn’t need to hold Mr. Puzzles hand to inspect his exposed back. But this also gave you an earlier opportunity than later on to try something you’d been wanting to for at least a week. You weren’t entirely sure how he’d react, and perhaps being without clothing on his upper half might make your half-baked plan coming over here more difficult. 

There was only one way to find out. 

You stepped forward, watching Mr. Puzzles carefully for any other signs of discomfort, but he remained stiffly in place at the edge of the stool he was seated on. Reaching out with your own left hand, you set it on his, but after grasping it in what felt a reassuring way, he let go of you and went back to planting both arms across his chest from the way his fingertips dug into either shoulder lightly, on either side of a black bath towel wrapped around his neck. 

“It’s all right.” Mr Puzzles whispered. 

You’re not sure if he’s trying to convince you or himself.  You’ moved to stand behind Mr. Puzzles after he let go of your hand, momentarily marveling that even seated on a stool the top of the TV set he called a head came to the top of your shoulders while you were standing.

“You’re ridiculously tall.” You commented, dropping your gaze to beneath the towel around his neck as a low chuckle emitted from Mr. Puzzles. 

“Better to oversee everyone in the cafe, no?” Amusement, and nervousness. 

“Sure, and for keeping a lookout for me?” You asked casually as you inspected the way his sleek robotic arms were attached to what was left of Mr. Puzzles’ human shoulder. It didn’t look sore around the attachment area but you weren’t certain if it was normal for where he came from for skin to be colored as it was. Slightly gray from where the robotic limbs were as the color went up what was left of the shoulder and spiraled across over his left and right shoulder blades. 

“I have noticed you, at times.” Mr. Puzzles said eventually, in a causal way. “Though ordinarily when you attempted to sneak up to that podcast area of yours before you so kindly invited me up to visit.”

“Like we didn’t notice you trying to eavesdrop a few times?”

“You could never prove it.” Mr. Puzzles hummed. 

“Probably not. You move pretty quick for being so tall as well.”

“One of my many charms.” Mr. Puzzles said proudly. 

“Running away?” You teased, thinking about the time Mr. Puzzles fled through the back door of the cafe and was gone before anyone could figure out what had happened was that his apron had been tugged at and he thought it was one of your roommates come back to get him for flirting with you. 

You think it was flirting, anyway. 

“Staying hidden.” Quiet. Contemplative. 

That…didn’t sound like a good thing.

You stared at the back of Mr. Puzzle’s tv head, then continued roving your gaze over his back when he had nothing more to say. 

Mr. Puzzles spine was…a distressingly visible bumpy line down his back all the way down to where it disappeared down his pants, the suspenders hanging off either side of the belt. There were no obvious robotic parts, just skin that was that graying color that trailed up past his waistline. Upon closer inspection, you could see what appeared to be a line of raised skin along the entire length of Mr. Puzzles spine. You glanced at the back of his head again, then stepped forward to  lightly brushed a few fingers along the raised skin, drawing out an involuntarily shiver from Mr. Puzzles. 

Scar tissue. 

Really thick scar tissue, as if it had been repeatedly cut open and sewn shut. 

“Hey, Puzzles?” You see the way his head tilts to the side, his fingers digging slightly harder into his shoulders. “Can I…give you a hug?”

A very long silence before a very slow exhale sounded. 

“You may. As long as you don’t…”

“…look at your front?”

“Yes.” Quiet.

“Can I touch or-“

“I would presume so for a proper hug.”Attempted amusement poor hiding of the desperate need for touch. 

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop?” You think you hear a muttered ‘would never be too much’ but couldn’t confirm as Mr. Puzzles  merely straightened up and held ramrod still as if he were about to be hit instead of hugged. 

That made you sad to think that he was nearly flinching as though expecting the worst despite your intentions being pretty clear with your words. Stepping forward, you lightly touch a shoulder blade, drawing forth a stronger shiver before mr puzzles practically leaned back into it.  His skin was slightly cooler to the touch than when he was wearing clothes. Then, he seemed to be warmer, and you couldn’t help but wonder if whatever had been troubling him, especially this past month, might be the reason. 

Mr. Puzzles uttered your name in a barely there whisper. 

You take a final step and lean in, deciding first where to rest your head before carefully wrapping your arms around middle, just below where his arms crossed over his chest. It was always a surprise that you could practically touch your own sides if you wished while hugging me puzzles with how slight he was around the middle compared to his ridiculously wide set shoulders and broad chest. But you merely hold your hands over his middle and press your arms into his skin, drawing yet another shiver. 

Was the temperature difference too much?

“That…feels nice.” Mr puzzles murmured appreciatively. 

Ah.

He liked the sensation of you touching him, perhaps a little more than when you had grabbed his antenna and yanked them, only to, after a very long conversation, pet them at Mr puzzles request about two weeks ago. It had left him a happy puddle of static buzzing and a fast heart rate. 

“This okay?”

“Mmhmm.” He sighed near dreamily. 

You decided to unclasp your hands to trace your fingertips along Mr. Puzzles quivering lower abdomen. This caused him to let out a little whine of static, trembling in place as if not sure whether to press into your touch or lean against you. 

When you note that Mr. Puzzles had begun to fidget you stopped, about to move your arms away when his own arms moved to clasp your hands with his own. Mr. Puzzles stayed motionless for a moment as he held your hands, before, with a little shake, settled them over his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. 

And more crisscrossing of strategically placed lines of scars that reminded you too much of a cadaver in a horror game you’d played.

You focused on his heartbeat instead. 

The two of you stayed in place like that for a moment before Mr. Puzzles eventually yet reluctantly relinquished his hold if your hands and dropped his own onto his lap. 

He was being uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Where’s your shirt?” You think he might feel better if he could see you and reciprocate a hug, but for that, he would need something to put on. 

A hand rose to point a digit to the left. 

You step over to the dress shirt (this one gray instead of white) and walked back to drape it over his shoulders. You watched as he slipped the sleeves over his arms and just as he was about to button it up you had inspiration strike you. Stepping obviously up behind him you lean into mr puzzles back again and shooed his hands away as you began to button the dress shirt up instead. 

Look at you go! All those dark morning fumbling with clothes  with buttons on occasion paid off and it drew an interesting reaction from Mr. Puzzles. 

“Not that I’m not flattered with this assistance but may I ask why?”

“Why not?” You respond, doing the last button right before you wrapped your arms around Mr. Puzzles again. “You look good in these clothes.”

“I do?” Uncertainty, then. “Well, of course, I do!”

You coax one of the suspended straps over Mr. Puzzles’ shoulder before he catches one of your arms. 

“I do believe I am capable of dressing myself, my dear.” 

“Yeah, you are, but I think you like me helping out?”

“And you deduced this how?”

“You’re letting me.” You point out as you let the other suspender strap snap over Mr. Puzzles other shoulder. 

“I do suppose that is true.” Mr Puzzles began to do his freaky 180 head turn, only to stop with a full body grimace and hastily turn it back forward. 

You take the opportunity to steal his bow tie that he was reaching for and step off to the side and out of ways reach of long gangly arms. You can’t help but let out a snort of amusement when Mr Puzzles gracefully spins the stool with a leg to face you. He studied you with an expression of amusement on his tv face.  You wordlessly hold up the bow tie and wiggle it. 

“I get up and you won’t get far.” Mr Puzzles said after a moment. The screen switched to a light smile and hooded eyes. 

He was really bad at hiding his interests even if those interests were likely to scoop you up and hold you in his lap or something while he soaked up his ‘allotted cuddling’ for the day. 

“Who said I was going to run?” You offer back. 

Intrigue, then a slightly manic smile.

Oh, you definitely got him interested in whatever it was you had in mind.

Mr. Puzzles stood up, and slowly approached you, watching you closely as he retained eye contact. How he did that with a static expression, you weren’t sure, but it sure was impressive. In two long steps, Mr Puzzles stood before you and held out a hand with a flourish, as if expecting you to bestow upon him the bow tie.

You reach over for the step-stool nearby and make a show of climbing the two steps as though it was an arduous task, drawing an appreciative chuckle for the theatrics. You reached out with your hands, making it clear you intended to do the bowtie for him too.

Mr. Puzzles indulgently stooped while keeping his neck upright. This close to him you could hear the fuzz of the screen and the huff of laughter over you clearly struggling to get the bow tie in place. 

“I guess it’s easier on the tutorial.” You eventually admit, jumping a little when Mr. Puzzles’ hands come up around yours.

“And most I assume are for one wearing the bow tie. Here.” He guided you through getting the bowtie into place, only to switch to a grin when it was done and you’d lowered your hands with his still around yours, as if Mr. Puzzles was reluctant to let go of you. He looked like he might try to pick you up despite his neck troubling him.

“Want to go to the other room?” You asked casually, as if Mr. Puzzles hadn’t just begun to pet the back of your hands with his ungloved ones while retaining a semblance of eye contact with you. 

“How about a change of venue?” Mr. Puzzles asked, his tone a little deeper than before, rougher. “I think it might be more private in the dimension in my mind.”

Okay, giving him undivided attention appeared to bring out the possessiveness, so time for a diversion to defuse that, and a great time, you think, to push things a little farther to let Mr. Puzzles know you did have interest in him and were down for whatever, even if it as cuddling and handholding at this point, like he insinuated yesterday, as if it were scandalous for friends to do. 

You don’t think it is, but whatever. If that was his current comfort zone you’d go with it and back off if your next words and actions went over poorly. “You have a ridiculously grabbable waist that allows a perfect angle to switch to grabbing your ass.” 

“Oh?” Mr puzzles screen flicked through a series of expressions before landing on a curious eyed eke with a smirk. “How raunchy. You’re lucky we’re not on one of my sets where that’d be highly inappropriate.”

“And since we’re not on a set?” You asked with curiosity, only to nearly jump out of your skin as Mr Puzzles has managed to move in that freakishly fast way of his where he now had you  up against a wall, hands on either side of your shoulders on said wall. 

“I would say I’m very…interested, to see where this is going.” Mr. Puzzles carefully lowered his tv head to rest it over yours. That didn’t seem comfortable to press his screen into the wall but he wasn’t found so very hard. 

You didn’t gove yourself time to think and reached out to grasp his hips. 

Mr puzzles trembled in place.

“You want me to keep going?”

“wouldn’t have said I were interested if I didn’t mean you to.”  Mr. Puzzles sounded oddly breathless. 

“You going to be okay, big guy?” You asked. “Just touching your hips seems to have gotten you all hot and bothered.”

“Unoriginal. Use something other than ‘hot’ and ‘bothered.’ Too cliche.” 

“I’ll give you cliche, ass.” And you promptly tugged him forward to grab said ass. His stupid, stupid backside that should not fit his lanky, weirdly built body. 

Mr. Puzzles hands pressed harder into the wall. 

“Any requests?” You asked, as if you weren’t just kneading him through his pants and making him shake. 

“Perhaps it is a bit too much?” Mr. Puzzles gasped out. It sounded like his screen was flashing through a lot of pictures and faces.

You stop, only for him to let out a frustrated whine. 

“I didn’t mean for you to actually stop.” 

You frown up at Mr. Puzzles, take in the pointed not looking at you as he kept his screen pressed to the wall, and then glance down. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“We can stop.”

“No, please continue.”

“We’re going to have another talk okay? Like we did about your antenna.”

A hum of agreement and then a desperate, softly uttered ‘please’. 

“This is okay, what we’re doing right now?” You asked again, wanting to make sure he wasn’t just stuck in the touch starved sensation where anything felt nice.

“Yes, yes it is.” A little snappish as the tv head leaned back for Mr. Puzzles to presumably eye you. “Do your worst. I am perfectly fine with where this is headed.”

“Okay, here goes.” You set one hand lightly on his hip while you followed the urge to give his ass a final slap through the pants that made Mr. Puzzles give a high-pitched yelp of surprise, as if not entirely expecting that.

He sank to the floor on his knees with a flushed expression flashing across his face. Mr. Puzzles buried his screen into his hands, but you catch a glimpse of the screen that showed off blushing, a small technicolor smile and a set of eyes set off to one side away from where you stood.

You decide to let Mr. Puzzles have some dignity while he gathered himself, but you can’t help leaning over pat his head, since it was easier to access when he was crouched or kneeling. The whisper of ‘good boy’ came out unbidden when you pet the side of his screen and an antenna, half-thinking he’d bat your hand away and scoff at you.  You did not expect the noise Mr Puzzles made as he sank entirely to the floor, curling up and pressing his hands into his tv face harder as his expression burned bright, his facsimile eyes on you this time, like he was seeing you in a new light and was very, very curious.

Wow.

Okay.

You knew Mr. Puzzles liked praise with that ego of his, but this flustered demeanor was new compared to the awkwardness of trying to strike up conversation with you in the first week of being here in the world.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Does Genesis go on a diet after Angeal comments how tiny Sephiroth's waist is?

CW: Body image/body issues

It'll take a lot more than a comment from Angeal to get Genesis Rhapsodos to give up his overpriced coffee—that's 80% sugar—and the handfuls of Red Hots he eats when he's nose-deep in a novel.

Genesis pledged to never again alter his meals to conform to a certain goal ever again. As a child, Hollander crafted dietary plans for him, urging him to "gain a little weight" or "bulk up like the other boys his age," all which made Genesis' frail, "bony" eight-year-old body fill with rage. He sought to cherish and take pride in his body as he matured. Plus, puberty did a number on his height and muscle gain, so why should he feel inferior?

His body both exuded an ambiguous allure when shrouded in layers, and a masculine strength when they were shed—which was just the image SOLDIER wanted from its newly recruited Thirds.

He spent the majority of the war and his youth fixated on becoming a hero, becoming known, building a reputation that everyone would remember. The way all the boys around him seemed to grow in height and weight while he stayed stagnant didn't bother him until he and Angeal were promoted to Second Class, and Sephiroth came along.

Genesis pretended it didn't bother him that Sephiroth and Angeal were the same height. He feigned indifference when Sephiroth complained of growing pains, or how his own arms looked like twigs compared to Angeal's. Admitting to insecurities would be showing weakness—a notion utterly inconceivable to him. He was not weak, no matter what stories his physique told to others.

But Sephiroth's physical perfection tormented him. Genesis couldn't fathom how someone could be so immaculately perfect. One could compose sonnets about Sephiroth's muscle definition, write articles praising the width of his shoulders, and spend hours marveling at his perfectly slender waist.

Nights were spent on Genesis' behalf, choking down envy so that he didn't throw it back up. His waist would never look like that—not without the rest of his body thinning out too.

Sephiroth towered over everyone, and with that long hair of a color that was impossible to replicate with dye, it was like the goddess herself her crafted him from the flesh of the lamb men sacrificed to keep beauty in the world.

And it drove Genesis absolutely mad. Because devoted like he was, he would sacrifice himself on an altar to keep the goddess happy and have everything he could ever want, yet all she granted him was illness and a body that the magazines and articles constantly compared to Sephiroth's.

Honestly, he was grateful when he was promoted to First Class and had the liberty of accentuating his uniform with personal details. He could do anything he wanted, show as much skin and wear the fabric as tight as he pleased.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bear the prospect of standing next to his friend, looking "almost like Sephiroth, but not quite right"

The red leather coat was perfect. It was snug enough in the arms to make his muscle definition visible, bright and captivating to make him stand out, and its shape kept his body ambiguous, inviting positive speculation. It gave him the freedom of not having to worry what his body looked like in public all the time. He was a good actor, great at acting like his own body didn't bother him, and even better at acting like the mere mention of Sephiroth's physical perfection wasn't enough to make the resentment in his heart send him into cardiac arrest.

So to answer your question, he does go on a diet—a mental diet of jealousy, where every meal is bitter, unfulfilling and the end result will surely make him rot.

[thedeafprophet]

okay i dont know if this is my own body image issues poking through, but whenever i see clips from baldurs gate 3 i cant get over how thin peoples arms look???? like it seems so unproportional, especially for the characters that are regularly wielding swords

[unhetalia]

dreaming about historical model Alfred…..

This is purely self-indulgent

In a nations-are-known scenario: yk those videos that are like “hair through the decades” where they do the most popular hairstyles from 1890-2010 on one model. Like that but times a billion. I want magazine style fashion history. I want Georgian era clothes to 1950s retro to armor.

Realistically I think sightings of AFJ would be much more akin to Adam Sandler but in my heart he’s a model. & I also think (again, in my heart,) he has at least close to the ideal male proportions. Maybe not perfect but like… perfectly average while still being considered unique. Just enough wiggle room in the measurements to be uniquely pretty while still conforming to the ideal. Does any of this make sense. What I mean is he’s a good dress up doll and I want to play dress up with him.

Hi, I love this! I have no idea about Adam Sandler (is he not sighted regularly? Is that why he was brought up? Or do you mean he dresses terribly when he's out and about?) but here are my AFJ thoughts in a public AU (which, great timing, I have a fic I'm writing that features that so my brain is SUPER thinking about this).

In terms of public appearances — AFJ is seen out and about a lot. Probably the only one seen around more is Arthur, who is a diplomat and knighted and just a very prolific member of the British government. AFJ, unlike Arthur, is a private citizen, and in fact, his right to criticize the government is literally in the constitution (I want to get more into this at some point but not now), so not only is AFJ seen out and about a lot, he's chatty.

But in terms of his wardrobe — well, my thing has always been that AFJ doesn't give a shit, alas, but also he's... ethereal, and so despite not being fashionable in the traditional way he's a bit of a trendsetter. People will ask him where he got his shurt and his answer will either be the 1800s or an op shop, but he makes it WORK. There's a whole series of coffee table books that's just his wardrobe over the years.

I've mentioned before how in-universe I firmly believe Alfred's considered the most attractive, even among the Nations. I think his face is just... pretty. He looks youthful, with long eyelashes and large, doe eyes. Just androgynous enough to make him look unique, but not teetering towards looking feminine.

Body wise, I actually adore how Hima drew him here —

in that I LOVE the softness of his body even while he looks obviously fit. He doesn't have abs, you can see some softness around his tummy but you can also see that slight hint of muscle there, too, then it curves to his breedable hips. I think this is Al at a 'healthy weight'. In my head, Alfred sometimes loses weight because of disordered eating, both because he's the type of person who doesn't eat when working (canon) and also because he DOES have body image issues that causes him to diet (also canon). Due to the fact Hima has NEVER shown AFJ actually looking overweight while showing him despairing at weighing scales, it really built in my head this idea that Al has some body dysmorphia.

Shit? That got dark? ESPECIALLY because I think this is something the public would notice.

Back to lighter topics - there's an "eco friendly fashion" movement inspired by Alfred's ability to look stylish while also only buying secondhand/keeping clothes for a long time. It's actually very neat! People also acknowledge that Alfred's fashion only work on him because he's so beautiful anything he wears seem chic, but also people do some really cool stuff with secondhand stuff or even like. Making their own clothes. In order to encourage people to do this, they do competitions on best outfits and whoever gets the most votes actually has their outfit worn by Alfred aka LITERAL DRESSING AL LIKE A BARBIE JUST FOR YOU, ANON.

[hey-hey-j]

I don't know if this is a bad thought or idea but idk personally I don't see John forcing or encouraging Bruce then Spruce not to eat, I just think he'd have Bruce exercise more. Idk if that sounds dumb or not but idk I don't think food was an issue for John? Like I know they've changed throughout the years but John never brought up Bruce's weight now, and when he was criticing him he said "more smolder" or something like that. Idk I think John was 100% a flawed brother and there was an eating disorder with Bruce but I don't think John would stop Bruce from eating???

Why am I saying this here? Idk. Am I scared to say this because I feel like I'm being a bad person for this somehow? Yes. Do I want to share my idea with SOMEONE? Also yes

no it's not a bad thought at all, I totally see where you're coming from! I actually have a lot of thoughts on this topic let me just see if I can word them right....

I definitely don't think John ever *intentionally* encouraged any food or self-image issues in Bruce, but what he *did* do was pressure him to keep up the "heartthrob" image, and that's what led to Bruce developing these issues? Because he felt like he had to for the sake of JD and the band? If that makes sense? So JD wasn't over here outright telling his brother to starve himself but he maybe wasn't all too aware of how his remarks and expectations were seriously affecting his brother? And JD is all "Well we're just doing what's best for the band!" and you're all "No John Dory your brother is seriously hurting himself because you told him he had to be the hot one."

IDK I think it comes back down to the idea that JD never *meant* to harm his brothers, but he *did*, and he's just too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it for most of the story. And IDK, there's something about the way Bruce tells him "so no one would treat me like you did" that almost implies something deeper.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Lap

Zevlor asks Bea to sit in his lap, and she has a bit of a crisis. SFW.

Zevlor thought it was a reasonable request.

He simply asked his lover if she would sit in his lap.

“Zev, are you out of your mind?!” Beatrice cried, a horrified look on her very pretty face. “I’m not just taller than you. I’m quite a bit heavier—" I’ll crush him! Crush his poor legs!

He sighed. “I realize that. However, I still would like you in my lap. Please.” Zevlor added with a wink, hoping she would surrender to his charm.

Hands now on her hips, she groaned. “What if I—”

“I was a Hellrider, sweetheart. I can take it.”

WHAT?!

“D-Did you really just say ‘I can take it’ regarding having me sit in your lap?” She asked, eyes narrowed. “I…Zev…” Her then contorted into what Mum calls my “very sad face.” “I’ll hurt you, and I don’t want that.”

He rose from the chair and took her hands in his. “Bea darling, you won’t. How about this---we’ll sit on the bed, you can have your legs over my lap, and I hold you? Is that better?”

Much. At least I won’t crush you. I’m sorry I’m not a petite little thing. I’m sorry I’m too tall, too fat, too big, too—

As a tear slid down her cheek, one of his hands let go of hers and brushed the tear away. “What’s wrong, my love?”

She shook her head, more tears falling. “I’m sorry I’m too big.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not.” He positioned her the way he described with her long legs over his lap, an arm around her waist, and his tail curling around my legs.

Breathe, Bea.

I’m in Zev’s arms.

I’m safe.

“You’ll never be too big for me. Never.” He kissed her neck just below an ear as his hand on her waist went under her top, kneading her softness. “I’m more than enough man to handle my pulchra,” he lightly nipped at her neck before soothing her with more kisses. Moonmaiden take me. He’s perfect and lovely and amazing and I want him so badly please. “After all, dear…it takes a man to please a goddess like you.” He purred as he littered kisses on her jaw.

OH?!?!

With a strangled moan, she managed to get out, “You’ve…you’ve called me that before…a goddess…”

He chuckled. “Because you are, Bea.”

“Is it because I’m…well, you know…” She trailed off, her brow creasing.

“Plush? Plump?” He needs to stop saying it so sensually, or I’m going to combust. “Perfect? You’re a goddess, darling. My pretty, voluptuous goddess…” The hand under her top drifted upwards, squeezing and caressing as he went. “A goddess deserving of worship.”

Oh.

Oh wow.

Heart pounding in her chest, she was breathless when she spoke again. “I…I don’t know what say…”

His movements slowed. “Is this too much, darling? If you’re feeling uncomfortable or overwhelmed, then please tell me.”

She squeezed her brown eyes shut and snuggled closer to embrace him. Zev. My Zev. I love you so much. More than you’ll ever know. “No. I…it’s all very new. But I…I like it.”

Did he just purr?! “I’m glad.” Purring Zev is so adorable. “I like holding you, pulchra.” His tail curled around her waist. “All those awful thoughts about being too big for me…let them fall away, my angel…I have you, Bea. I have you.”

Beatrice released a shaky breath she had no idea she was holding.

Breathe.

“I have you.”

Breathe.

She tightened her hold on him, opening her eyes so her gaze could meet his. I love you. “We have each other.”

“That we do, pulchra. That we do. Now,” Ooooh that’s his tail tickling my leg. “Let’s enjoy our time together before you must return to the Elfsong.”

Right.

Fuck.

She frowned, leaning her head against his. And minding his horns. I’ve accidentally bonked myself more times than I care to admit. “I wish I didn’t have to.”

The tiefling hummed, not loosening his hold on her. “I promise…when all this is over, we’ll never spend another night apart.” Never. “Imagine spending every evening together. Waking up together every morning.” They sat in silence I don’t know how long before Zevlor spoke again. “You’re a beautiful woman, darling. I only wish you’d see it.”

You and me both, Zev.

Beatrice snorted softly. “Well, there’s lots of people who don’t think I am and have told me so.” It’s partially why I took every assignment I could in the temple. That way I wouldn’t have to endure the looks and comments from Baldurian high society. And then after him, I entirely avoided events, functions, balls, you name it.

“They have no taste.” He said in a clipped tone that she had rarely heard from him. “You’re a goddess. A vision of beauty, heart, and faith---not only in Selune but in your fellow man.” Zevlor shook his head, smiling ruefully. “Including this one.”

She tilted his chin up to properly see my handsome Zev and smiled. “Especially this one.”

“A benevolent goddess with such faith in me. I’m touched.” He teased, brushing the tips of his clawed fingers against the softness beneath her top.

Her lips touched his in an instant, and she moaned into his mouth, “You deserve pleasure, Zev. You deserve it all…want to see you smile…be happy…I’d do anything for you.” I mean, to be fair, I’ve already done a lot, starting with killing the goblins at the grove. Then killing more goblins. And then killing those Shadow Druids. And then we killed every goblin in the camp. That’s a lot of fucking goblins I’ve killed. Beatrice bit her lower lip as she watched him freeze in stunned silence. “I…I love you.” I love you, Zev. I killed so many fucking goblins. So many.

“I-I had no idea you felt so strongly, so deeply, towards me—”

Zev, we are not doing this right now.

The half-drow grabbed his face in her hands and silenced him with a passionate kiss that left him breathless. “Of course, I bloody do, Zev! I love you!” She laughed, holding him tightly against her. Relax, love. Relax. Rocking them gently, she kissed the base of a horn. “You make it so easy to love you, Zev. One look at you, and I just wanted to kiss you…” Smooches for my Zev! “Hold you…touch you…make you laugh…all of it.” One more smooch. She reluctantly released him and shifted to lay down. “Now, come here and let’s have a cuddle before I go, love.” She grinned and held out her long arms.

I swear the flames in his eyes got brighter.

“Yes, pulchra.” Zevlor drawled as he settled into her side. He reached for one of her hands and held it gently his, resting them both on her belly. “I love you, Bea darling. You know I’d do the same for you as well. Anything, my beloved. Anything.”

Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I know, love.”

Anything, Zev.

Months later, when she and Zevlor were cuddling that same way in our own bed in our own home, Beatrice felt no fear or shame or embarrassment.

Only love.

[therookandthecrow]

I can definitely see how a buff warrior elf such as Davrin would make Lethanavir's old insecurities come back, even after he thought that he'd accepted he'd always be lanky. Even when he lived among the Dalish, he was always encouraged to 'eat more' even though he ate enough. Actually, he loves food, thank you.

When he disclosed to his Dalish peers that he was training to be a member of the Mourn Watch, he got teased a lot by being called 'bone-boy'/'death-boy' and things like that, or just as bad, 'crypt-baby' which oddly enough he grew to embrace each of those titled bestowed upon him by his Dalish bullies.

It's sufficient to say that these kinds of experiences didn't make him fond of the Dalish, although as an elf, he feels the obligation to defend his people from discrimination on behalf of being elves. Just don't ask him to make a good case for being Dalish. He has no love for that way of life, despite his Vallaslin.

[Rookanis is at the very bottom]

That was the toughest time of his life, apart from meeting his parents, who abandoned him. He was a lot happier when he returned full-time to the Mourn Watch and his studies among the dead, the undead, spirits and those of a like-mind who 'get him' such as Myrna, Vorgoth and the numerous curiosity spirits.

While he likes Taash a lot, and finds them refreshingly candid and direct, he felt the sting on Emmrich's behalf when they called him a 'skull-f***er' among other colorful terms, although he was able to intuitively grasp the core reasons behind their initial hostility towards him, he defended Emmrich, nonetheless while still being empathetic towards Taash. He grasped the core of their lashing out.

He already surmised that those who bullied him when he lived among the Dalish had something at their cores which they were insecure about, and that they projected it onto him. Likewise, he's very emotionally intelligent, but socially, not so much. Lethanavir struggles with the unusual affliction of being book-smart, but not so much people-smart. This is one reason why he didn't hold it against Taash, personally.

I think that he became aggressive at that point in his life, as a defense mechanism (aside from his teenage hormones), only to return to being his usual self when returning to the Mourn Watch. Lethanavir is still wrapping his head around being a leader, as confident as he shows himself to be. Even while he directly proclaims that he is confident with leading, he inwardly doubts himself.

He and Emmrich become very good friends even after their budding romance didn't take off, because they not only found common ground among being Nevarran and Mourn Watchers, but for being accused of "not eating" because the both of them are so thin! I'll definitely need to write that into my fic, about how my Rook perceives his body in that respect.

Having a boyfriend, such as Lucanis who'd love him even if he were a wyrm, definitely helps a lot with him feeling accepted at his core. Another thing, having Dalish elves around such as Bellara, Davrin, Irelin, Strife, Yenarel and company help him to see the Dalish overall in a better light, as his previous experiences were subjectively bad.

Having Lucanis whisper in his ear about how beautiful he is, and how his eyes soften whenever he looks at him has helped him to accept that his slender, willowy frame is not a curse and that his beauty is not some mistake or an aberration and that someone can actually appreciate his looks and what he has on the inside, without wanting to change him.

While Lucanis' love language includes food, he's never once told Lethanavir to go for a second helping or poked his sides and told him that he can see his ribs. To Lucanis, Lethanavir is not 'bone-boy' or 'crypt-baby' but the most beautiful man he's ever seen with cheekbones like he'd never seen before, and honestly, a beautiful body.

Lucanis just wants to make sure that Lethanavir is looked after well and that he knows that he loves him unconditionally, and that he's the best thing that has happened to him in his whole entire life and that for the longest time he thought that he was unworthy of him, while Lethanavir had thought the same until [insert story event.]

[amaryllidaceaee]

Having a body suckss

do u ever think abt how ice king pretty much canonically has body image issues like

(thats your brain lying to you and saying stuff)

[killtheratwithameatcleaver]

yesterday i felt a little "boyish"

i call it that because it's confusing

do i want to be a boy? i barely register it because all i think about is how long i would have to wait for things like top surgery

i want top surgery either way

some days i feel like nothing

i wanna be nothing

some days i feel "girlish"

some days i look down and want to start chopping already

i can barely mention my chest

my mother says i have to get a size up in bras

that if i keep wearing one too small it'll stunt my growth

i kind of want it to

maybe i'll be more boy

or even nothing

if they're gone

i don't really care for what's in my pants

i choose to avoid looking at it when i can

that might just be a human thing

but it's crude and gross and my chest is gross

and i need new bras

but what i really want is a binder

we don't have gauze in the house

and things like that can be harmful

i know

i read the articles

i heard the stories

and i feel like im pulling everything backwards

reversing progress

today i feel a bit more like a girl

but when i look down at my chest it goes away

i know i wouldn't feel better as a boy

i know how hard it is to be one

but i think i would rather

[mxmorbidmidnight]

CW: mentions of disordered eating, comments about weight and internal stress about body size.

When I was a little kid there was this teacher who would tell the girls (only ever girls) when were eating lunch that we were eating too much food. This wasn’t the only thing she did.

I was really excited that day, my mum as a treat had gotten me a lunch order. It was a reasonable amount of food, if anything not that much. She sat across the table from me with some of the other kids and she looked at me and said

Thats a lot of food

I was so embarrassed. From that day on I always left a bit of my food in my bag when I went out to the playground. I was afraid people were judging me when I ate, thinking I was lazy or gross.

I remember distinctly when I was very young standing in the shower and looking down at my belly and being afraid that I was too big. People in my family are fat and growing up I saw how everyone treat them like they weren’t a person.

I remember my mother once said to me when I was eating a bag of beef jerky

you need to control you’re eating or you’ll be as big as a house

That teenage metabolism is going to go away one day

Please let us change the way we talk to children about weight.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Lust Sans Angst (idfk)

TW for weighing self, numbers, and he's a skeleton but toplessness. Mkay you've been warned

Eyyyyyy the ED vent doodle came out okay, I should do that more often lol

[blindmagdalena]

Ok plus size reader x Homie makes me S O B especially if we’re going on the theory that he has body issues of his own. So when he hears his girl getting torn down he probably gets extra angry even if he doesn’t realize why. Idk I just think plus size reader body worshiping Homelander when she realizes he’s self conscious about how he looks without the top of his suit would be really cathartic for them both.

ohhhhhh anon you just gave me a great idea for a smutty follow-up to that gala fic... they get back to their place and he's still worked up, she can feel the residual anger in his touch, she has to slow him down. he's refusing to take off his suit, which is strange for them. she's always known he's more comfortable in it, but it's especially bad tonight... that's when she realizes that HIS insecurities have been tripped by the whole encounter. cue prolonged mutual body worship AAAHHHH. okay i'm adding this to the list, thank you.