#plus sized awareness

[colourstreakgryffin]

Idk if requests are open but if they are may I request a Mammon x plus sized curvy reader with AuHDHD if that's alright?

Oh… darn. Well, Mammon probably won’t be lenient or nice about it. He is that type of guy so whilst he’s a bit offensive, I hope it’ll be okay. I’m not personally mocking being plus sized or having AuHDHD, I just doubt Mammon would be nice about it at first— but anyway

Mammon- Greatest Self

Straight up… Mammon is pretty goddamn crude and a big selfish bastard. He doesn’t apologise for anything he does and he doesn’t regret being judgemental or discriminative since he only cares for himself

So, when he sees you… a ‘unappealing plus sized brat with a fucked up head’ that’s apparently his new employee, has him apathetic and disinterested so he doesn’t even care to be nice nor ease up his toxicity as your boss

Mammon didn’t really fear insulting your physical body or your psychological issues. He finds both of them very annoying and he cannot bring himself to be patient with you, so for the first few months he had you hired. He treated you badly…

However, for the first time in his life, the Sin of Greed… genuinely felt something bad for somebody else upon making his nasty remarks when he saw the way you were upset over him

Mammon doesn’t know why but he ended up changing his attitude with you since he couldn’t take the sharp stabs in his heart anymore! He can’t insult you without hurting himself. Eventually, he completely silences his bad treatment and tries his best to compliment you

Mammon actually really don’t believe that disorders exist at all and when you, when gaining back trust to your Circus-decored sin boss, explain what AuHDHD is… he does his end to not laugh at the nonsense and listens up. He doesn’t get all this medicine and this treatments yet he keeps trying to understand you anyway

Mammon likes his people attractive and thin and curvy. Whilst he doesn’t think plus sized is attractive at first, he also thinks that there is a POSSIBLE chance that a plus sized curvy person can be hot and eventually, he does view you that way… your plush curves is soft and squishable

Honestly, he thirsts over you like crazy. Mammon loves to kiss and suck your soft plus-sized belly and waist. Feel your bigger thighs and your nice thick ass… he loves the same you feel, you’re amazing and he basically pants over your body

This is a lot less sexual but romantic passion, Mammon doesn’t find anybody sexually thriving but romantically thriving. It’s why he likes your body, he likes to dress you up and put you nice clothing and shoes… oh, it makes him flutter!

Don’t worry, Mammon will NEVER let anybody insult your body or your conditions! He did previously but he doesn’t anymore since you’re now his beloved partner so if anybody even dares to make fun of you, he’ll devour them whole with no hesitation whatsoever

NOBODY hurts his beloved little kitten!

Mammon is the type of pampering lover, he enjoys giving you all kinds of wonderful presents and items pretty much 24/7 since his love language is in the form of ‘receiving gifts’. It’s spoiling but it’s his best strength, getting the best things since whilst he hates spending money. He’ll spend it on him and you

Mammon is not usually a patient man at all but he is always doing his best for you since he has some weird obsession over you that he can’t explain at al! He does his best to be patient with your conditions and understand your different attitudes aren’t intentional… even if your tones may offend him

Mammon may like you a lot but he is still a awfully greedy money-eyed prick so he’ll market you in whatever your best skill is so he can profit from it but he will gladly give you… a proportion of that income gain. He only slightly exploits you where he exploits everybody 100%

Mammon enjoys having you match him in clothing or accessorises! So, he likes to get you to wear whatever he is at the time, I’m afraid you’ll have to get use to this little cute thing until he gets bored of it… which will probably take some time so he’ll make you his Mini Me and admire how cute you look!

Mammon treats you like a Prince/Princess/Royal amongst the workplace so you get special privileges, and his employees do as you want when you want by his command. If you’re hungry, they give you food first. If you need time alone to handle your AuDHD, they are to leave right away

Mammon personally doesn’t think you need to do anything for anybody else so when you tell him, after a long day, about people saying you need to lose your weight. He’ll basically say; ‘you don’t need to change for anybody’ but if you ever want to change your plus-sized form, he’ll be there to support you… in the most Mammon way

Now. To top up your relationship with the Aussie Greed King, Mammon is not the most perfect boyfriend and he’s always trying to improve his ugliest traits to not hurt your feelings so he needs time but he does love you and he’ll show it

“Eh? Do’n wan’a perform this year, babe? Ya’d make a’ adorable one, ya know. Crikey, crikey. Ay, I was just saying, doll… don’t need to hiss at me like that. Lucifer’s will. Would ma’ performin’ with ya help at all?”

[aroaceleovaldez]

they cast a 28 year old for Tyson 💀

[relevant rants: here and here]

yeah, i saw - i wasn't holding onto hope of them casting a disabled actor for Tyson (still disappointed, just not surprised) but casting a 28 year old for a middle schooler is really out of left field. It's just an odd choice? Particularly given how much they've been emphasizing age-accurate casting so far.

It makes me really wonder what major rewrites they have planned for Tyson's character. Because as things stand currently there's no way to make Tyson's existing character work with this casting. Tyson is supposed to be in Percy's grade, but Daniel Diemer sticks out like a sore thumb against the child actors. Tyson being in Percy's grade is pretty important for the entire arc of Sea of Monsters with the main character arc being Percy combating internalized ableism and establishing him as a character who stands up for other marginalized kids. If they remove that, what's Percy's arc going to be for that entire season? At what point are they going to establish that about his character? Or are they just going to exposition it at us like usual with nothing backing it up and no actual character progression? And in later seasons the age gap is only going to be more prominent - like how is Tyson going to work in BoTL or TLO? Are they planning on removing his character entirely for those scenes? Are they going to remove him as a recurring character in general? It'd be really weird if they killed him off or something.

I'm also afraid for if they do try to keep Tyson's disability coding in some form - cause there's kind of no good way it can go at this point. Either they completely erase Tyson's coding because they cast an abled actor for him and that messes up the entire arc of the book and his character particularly in relation to Percy, or they have an abled actor attempt to portray a character heavily coded as having down syndrome (and i believe they're already doing similar with iirc Chiron's actor is abled but they're doubling-down in the show on Chiron being disabled) and given how they've written the neurodivergence themes (or absence there of) in the show so far there's just no way that'd end well. Like, Tyson's characterization is a little questionable to begin with in the books, but given the show's writing so far it just feels like we're very rapidly ramping up for an extremely ableist characterization of Tyson. Like i'm sure Daniel Diemer is a great actor, but... i'm just getting real tired of the show erasing the entire premise of the series :T

anyways as per my initial post about pjo tv tyson casting theories i guess it's time for me to start tearing stuff apart with my teeth ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sensei-venus]

I always think about how funny it would be to just write the crack scenarios I have going on in my head. Fully conscious and self aware Reader “cracked!reader” is so fucking funny to me.

Red!Hawk: *winks at Chubby!Reader while walking by*

Chubby!Reader who has no filter, with the most deadpan face ever, turns towards the other: “Yall think I just got eye molested by the guy with the fuggly ass mohawk that just walked by. I think he wants me real bad and I don't want to be here no more.”

Literally everyone near her:😨

Hawk: “Wft did I do-”

——————————————————————-

*Karate fight happening and Reader is just there*

Chubby!Reader once again not feeling it “Yall lied to me. I hate this place. I hate all of you. Kys.”

*Random kid getting body slammed inches away from her.*

Chubby!Reader: “You know what fuck it, I'm killing MYSELF at this point sense none of you guys want to listen to me.”

*Somehow slips away from the fight to go get food, she never shows back up.*

—————————————————————————-

Sam: “We should all hang out at my house.”

*Chubby!Reader sipping a slushy and scrolling thought her phone, not looking up for even a second.* “Nah if I wanted to bath in the smell of higher middle class I would go across town and walk into one of the LA plastic surgery offices, they give you free cucumber water too. Same thing.” *slurps loudly while scrolling.*

Sam: “I never want you over at my house ever again-”

———————————————————————————

Johnny: “Get your head out of your ass! Loser.”

Chubby!Reader: “You constantly smell like beer and piss, and I saw you piss on your own car a few days ago in a open parking lot. Both of us are losers, but from the looks of it one of us is the bigger one, news flash, its not me. Also that's not a fat joke, its you, your the bigger loser.”

Johnny: “Wow tubby got jokes.”

[mcshizzle-the-fire-boy]

important

I have something very very important to share. Please pay attention. It won’t take long.

The other day I was scrolling through YouTube shorts.

I found a video of a plus size woman, lip syncing to a trending song. I liked the video, and out of curiosity went to the comments.

Most of the comments were absolutely horrible.

“You’re disgusting”

“Just go on a diet already”

“Kill yourself”

“Stop posting already”

“What the hell is this”

I was so upset. This woman, just trying to live her life freely, trying to do something she was passionate about, being bullied and made fun of. 

I was the only one who said anything to stand up for her.

No one else cared.

To make matters worse, I continued scrolling for a while, and I found a woman who lip synced to the same audio. It was essentially the same video. 

The difference?

One was plus size.

One was skinny.

And when I went to the comments, there were amazing comments.

Glorious praise.

“Oh my god, you’re so pretty”!

“I wish I could look like you”

“Ur so talented! Keep going”

“I just subbed, ur incredible”

I scrolled. 

Not one hate comment.

See, here’s the thing.

People ( after the devastating George Floyd incident ) began to realize that  prioritizing the “Black Lives Matter” movement was vital, and that the crimes pushed upon black people were wrong.

BLM was essentially  a campaign encouraging people to treat others with kindness and respect, no matter how they looked.

This campaign changed lots of things worldwide, making the world a better place. Not perfect, do note, but better. Improved. 

It was incredible, really, considering black people used to be seen as a disgrace, and were seen as criminals.

So why shame people who are bigger? On how they look?

Black people can’t just change their skin.

I mean technically, they can, but they shouldn’t have to. They’re beautiful the way they are.

So why should bigger people be forced into feeling ugly? Forced into thinking that they have to change?

They’re beautiful.

As is any human being.

I believe that if some people realized this, maybe we could make a change.

I’m sick of hearing jokes about obesity in school hallways.

I’m horrified by how many people are scared to become larger because there’s some notion in their head that they’d be ugly.

I hate how many plus size people hate their bodies and wished they were skinny.

It’s horrible and wrong, and it needs to end. 

Please consider re-blogging this so we can get the word out.

Thank you.

[negativefouriq]

idk as far as im concerned penelope featherington pen name lady whistledown can be as nasty as she wants bc every ounce of that nastiness was lobbed at her first

[missindig0]

Soft, eloquent, British gay seeking love of her life (also known as totally done with the hell of dating apps)

[drivemysoul]

just started crying trying to find a swimsuit and the sales assistant looked me up and down and told me “well maybe try the kids section” and when i said i don’t want to wear kids clothes (and they don’t fit me either) she rolled her eyes and walked off mumbling about “well eat something”

[thatonegaybrit]

; happy June !! Another thing that is celebrated in June is Mens Mental Health Awareness Month !! To all the man-identifying people out there, you're so important and your mental health, good or bad, matters incredibly. Don't be afraid to reach out to those around you !!

; this goes for whatever situation, js remember !!

; you aren't weak for reaching out, you're infact the opposite. Reaching out is scary, but you're strong. You can do this.

; you aren't " unmanly " for reaching out ( being emotional doesn't make you " less of " a man, in fact I'd say being vulnerable is super manly )

; you're allowed to have bad days and need comfort

; you can do this, it may seem impossible but if you really want to, then you'll get through this. You're so strong !! Really !!

; if you've lost someone close to you ( family member, friend, partner, pet, etc ) it's okay to take time for yourself, grieve all you need.

; to the transmen, etc, who don't feel like this month applies to you: it does !! Mens mental health awareness month is for men, and you're a man :]

; whether your young or old, your experiences and emotions are valid

; your trauma is valid, even if others don't believe it or maybe downplay it. It happened to you, it effected you, it wasn't okay. It's okay to not feel alright !!

; you deserve love and kindness and sweet affection. And you will find people who give that to you

; take yourself out on a self care date !! Whether that's going out to walk in the park, getting your nails done, reading at your favourite cafe, going to the gym. Or having a movie night in your bed, staying home and resting, doing a hobby like reading, crochet, music, watch a favorite program, whatever !

; take a break from social media, it can be a messed up place, especially if you spend to long on there. Turn off your phone and enjoy the little things around you !!

; have some snacks, drink some water. Shower if you can, and if not try washing your face instead !! Hygiene can be hard sometimes, ik, but js take it slow

; do whatever makes you happy, or comfortable, whatever. Take care of yourself and never ever be ashamed about reaching out. Be afraid all you want, it's a scary thing, but never feel ashamed for needing help. I'm proud of you and I love you <33

; happy men's mental health awareness month !!

[hubrishazard]

I really love the disability representation and trans representation that's in dr who lately. I hope someday it reaches the same level of positive well meaning representation for mental illness and fat people too

[chaoswithkaycee]

Hellfire and Honeysuckle, Chapter 12 - Final Chapter

Honey

In the days and weeks that followed, Honey was happy. Not happy like she had been during summers with Aunt Lilah; no, this was happy like she had never known - or at least, didn’t remember knowing. She settled into a new schedule and routine for her days, now that the full truth was out. Every morning, she rode to school with Eddie, meeting him at her front gate for a kiss and help into the van. Every afternoon, rain or shine, snow or sleet, he brought her back home - insisting on carrying her backpack. Thursdays and Fridays were reserved for study group and Hellfire, Wednesdays for band practice, and Mondays and Tuesdays - well, she knew he was selling after he brought her home. He chose to keep her away from that.

The first week back to school was the hardest - he insisted on fully lifting her into the van instead of letting her climb up herself, and fully lifting her out instead of letting her climb down. On top of that, she was overly aware of the stares and whispers of her classmates. During her two weeks of recovery at home, she’d almost forgotten that the rest of the world didn’t know about her disability yet - Eddie knew, the Party knew, and that was world enough for her. But now, back in class, rolling around the school in her wheelchair - now she was back in the real world, and she remembered why she’d kept it a secret. 

She was stopped between every class at least once by someone she’d never spoken to before telling her what an inspiration she was for just going about her life - or she was told to stop faking. People grabbed the handlebars of her wheelchair without asking to push or pull her through the halls, even when she asked them not to touch her chair. On the other end of the spectrum were the people who pretended they couldn’t see her at all - often walking in front of her and stopping so that she very nearly slammed into them, or bumping into her and not even doing so much as apologizing. 

She chose not to tell the others about this aspect of wheelchair use. Mama was only making her use the chair at school for a week, and she was determined to get through the week without complaining about people. So she didn’t tell Eddie, the Party, or Mama about the unsolicited opinions on the validity of her disability, the unsought ‘help’ moving her chair, the whispering, the stares, the struggle. And when the week was up, she put her foot down with Mama; she was using the cane, not the chair. 

And she did. The second week was better - she still received the verbal harassment claiming she was faking and the well meaning but ultimately insulting pathetic glances of pity from her classmates - but she had more control over her movements now. Aside from the incident where John-Michael Turney decided to grab her cane and run off in her third period class (before he was immediately reprimanded by the teacher, who returned the cane to her), her second week was a marked improvement over the first. She once again made the executive decision not to tell Eddie about the cane-snatching.

Week three was even better. The pain in her hip was more of a dull ache at this point, with an occasional lightning bolt of pain up her back - but she could walk almost completely unassisted (although she continued using the cane), and she was able to pay attention to her teachers now that the pain wasn’t so bad. Additionally, the awkwardness that had surrounded the Party had finally subsided. They had all come to terms with the fact that Honey and Eddie were a couple now - and really, no one was surprised. Honey had seen Stephanie slip a $20 to Gareth - apparently she’d won a bet against him regarding their relationship - but otherwise, they had all simply smiled and moved on with the conversation. Knowing that the next week of class would be cut short for the holidays, and that both Lucas and Dustin were going to be traveling out of state for Christmas, Eddie decided to hold their last Hellfire meeting of the calendar year that Friday. God bless Fridays, she thought, watching her boyfriend’s dramatic storytelling, building up to the reveal of the BBEG - it was the librarian, the whole time! The room filled with gasps and one squeaky “I FUCKING KNEW IT!” from Dustin. Honey just smiled, looking around the room. This was happiness. This was love.

Her favorite part of the new schedule was on Friday evenings, after Hellfire. Mama had already left for work by the time Eddie brought her home for the evening, and wouldn’t be back until after sunrise. This gave the two of them the perfect opportunity to spend an evening together once a week, and if Mama knew? Well, she never said anything to Honey about it. 

Usually, they just laid together, cuddling and kissing. Honey found that she slept better with their fingers laced together, listening to his soft snores and feeling his warm breath tickle the top of her head; he, on the other hand, always seemed wide awake until the moment his head hit her pillows. He’d stretch out, take a deep breath - and before Honey could turn off the lamp, he’d be half asleep.

This night though, he sat up against her headrest, holding her in his lap, both of their lips swollen and red from kissing and nipping at each other. One hand was on her bad hip, applying pressure so it wouldn’t start hurting in her current position; the other hand was wrapped in her curls at the base of her skull, holding her face to his. 

“You taste like strawberries.” He whispered against her mouth, nudging her nose with his.

She snorted, putting her hands on his chest to pull her head back and laugh. “Strawberries? Really?”

He pulled back, chuckling with her. “Yes. Like strawberries and whipped cream. Why, what do I taste like?”

“You taste like those sour candies and salt.” Seeing the face he made, she quickly added. “I like it. It reminds me of that first lunch we had together.”

He cocked his head. “How so?”

“You were eatin’ french fries and you kept lickin’ the salt off your fingers. Now when I taste the salt in your kiss, I just remember that was the first time you tried to get me to open up. Kinda feels like the start of everythin’, you know?”

She watched the smile split his face as he pulled her in for another kiss. “I can’t believe how far we’ve come.” He muttered against her lips, and she felt herself smile in unison.

“I never thought we’d be here at all.” She whispered back. 

Another hour passed before he spoke again. 

“So, Christmas plans?” He’d been afraid to ask, in case her plans included being away from him.

“Mama’s workin’ at the hospital all through Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so she and I are gonna do our Christmas tradition the day after. What about y'all?” She answered, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

“Uncle Wayne’s got Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off, the whole plant does. Do you want to come over to ours for Christmas?” He asked, absentmindedly rubbing circles on her lower back.

“I’d like that a lot. I don’t have gifts to bring, though.” She admitted, closing her eyes and sighing in pleasure at his touch on her back.

“That’s alright, neither do we. But we can have dinner and watch some movies, the trailer next door usually plays carols for a few hours from their stereo. And we just got a new heater so the trailer will be nice and warm.” He kissed the top of her head. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” She answered, eyes still closed. “Will you take me to see fireworks too?”

“What?” She heard the confusion in his voice and sat up.

“I heard Mike talkin’ to Lucas about the New Years Eve fireworks show that Hawkins does. I thought maybe we could bring in the new year together, goin’ to see fireworks. If you’d like to, that is.”

He smiled. “As long as it’s with you. I’d sit out all night watching fireworks. Absolutely.”

Honey smiled back, laying her head on his shoulder again. “It’s a date, then.”

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

Eddie

And that was how they’d ended up here, in the back of his van, overlooking the town. It was cold, in the single digits, but they didn’t mind. They were laying together on their sides, Honey in front of him with her back to his chest. They’d laid a quilt beneath them and wrapped multiple blankets around them to keep warm. The heat in the van still wasn’t working, but he didn’t mind. It gave him an excuse to keep her pulled against him and bury his face in her neck when the wind blew around them outside. They’d draped a blanket over the open doors of the back of his van, giving them a little window to watch the sky outside as it had slowly filled with stars over the hour that they’d sat out here, waiting. The lights of the city had gone off one by one, until only one small area was still lit up - the park where the fireworks would be set off from.

Eddie glanced at his watch for a split second. Any minute now, 1985 would end and the sky would be lit up with all the colors and noise that came with a firework show. Honey huffed and he looked down. “What?”

“Why’d you take your hand off me?” She feigned offense, pouting.

“I was checking my watch, Honey.” He laughed, nuzzling into her neck.

She giggled back. “Well I guess that’s okay then. How much longer?”

“Mm, few minutes.” He nestled down further into their tent of covers, pulling her closer to him and listening to her sigh in contentment.

She turned in his arms, so that her back was to the open van doors and she was facing him. He smiled down at her, pushing one of her curls behind her ear. For the thousandth time since the night she’d admitted her crush, he found himself marveling at where they had found themselves.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” She whispered, turning her head to kiss his palm where it hovered over her cheek.

“Thinking about how far we’ve come.” He whispered back, still feeling her lips in the palm of his hand. He flexed his fingers, but couldn’t shake it. The ghost of her kiss sat in his palm, even as he brought his hand to rest on her cheek.

“Again?” She looked up at him, her head resting on a balled up sweater.

“Honey, I think about it damn near daily.” He answered, letting his fingers trace down her neck, over her shoulder, under the blanket and around her waist to pull her to him. “I think about how pretty you looked, walking into Hellfire. I thought you were lost, looking for a different club or room. No way such a pretty girl was into D&D.” 

“Aunt Lilah bought me the player’s guide a little bit before my father found her. I hadn’t even finished readin’ it when I met you.” Honey admitted, biting her lip.

“Oh, I believe that. You were clueless. But that’s okay. I got to sit next to you and teach you, watch you smile and count on your fingers-”

“Math’s not my strongest subject, I did my best.” She pouted, pulling the blanket up to her chin as the wind blew louder outside.

He laughed. “I know, Princess. I know. And I love it. I love everything about you, even the things you don’t love about yourself, because I love you. Endlessly and unconditionally.” 

And cue the tears. He could almost perfectly predict when she’d cry now, and confessions of love? Top of the list. She was looking up at him with glossy eyes and sniffling now, and he couldn’t help the fond smile.

“You laughin’ at me?” She asked, wiping her face.

“Of course not, Honey. It’s just something else I love about you.” He kissed her forehead, holding her against him. It dawned on him that in all the times he’d seen her cry, none had been out of sadness or anger. She might sniffle, her voice might wobble - but tears really only slipped out when she was happy. He wasn’t lying, either. It was something he loved so much about her, the way she couldn’t keep her love or gratitude inside and let it come out through her eyes. 

She shifted against him, draping one arm over his hip. He hissed as her cold fingers made contact with his lower back, but held her arm in place when she tried to move it. He glanced at his watch again. “Two minutes to go.” He whispered, watching her face. Her teeth were chattering and she was shivering, even with all the blankets. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, just a little chilly. We can leave as soon as the fireworks are over. No point in leavin’ now, you know.” She answered, teeth clicking together as she whispered back to him.

“You got it, Princess.” He shifted, trying to share more of his body heat with her. “What’s your New Years resolution?” He asked, hoping to distract her from the chill in the air.

“Well, graduate for one. I’d like to get into the habit of takin’ daily walks, it’s supposed to help my joints stay strong. You know, just like 15 minutes a day. Um, maybe get a dog. Mama’s been talkin’ about gettin’ me a service dog.” She answered, yawning. “You?”

“Graduate next to you. Get the band famous. Get a place with you.” He answered, without thinking. 

“And you wanna do all that in one year?” She asked, pressing her face into his chest.

“I’m gonna do it all eventually, regardless. But yes, the goal is as soon as possible for all of them.” 

“Even the moving in together part?” 

“Especially that part. I want to come home to each other from now on.” He checked his watch again. “One minute.”

Honey grunted, rolling herself over so that she was facing the open van doors again to watch the sky. Eddie pulled her back flush against him, arranging the blankets around them. 

“This is gonna be your year.” She stated, tilting her head back to look at him. “I just know it. You’re gonna accomplish all your goals, you’re gonna have an amazin’ adventure. 86 is gonna be your year.” 

10 seconds. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” He whispered. “This is my year. I can feel it.” He felt her jump as the first explosion of light cracked the sky. He pressed a kiss to her temple, staring at the bright red and yellow lights shimmering above. “‘86, baby.”

[mcshizzle-the-fire-boy]

society: oh yeah!!! Black lives matter!! Your skin is beautiful!! Your body is perfect. Never change!!

someone plus size:

society: oh no not like that

[starrypawz]

Everytime I see a new Killstar drop it's like

[gothicdicordia]

Here's my plus size fashion recommendations for 2024:

1. Avoid all itchy, stiff, hot, fake, and crappy fabrics plus size vendors push on us like - scuba, poplin, challis, PVC, fake leather, polyester, mesh, and French terry.

2. Develop a personal brand and style. The beauty is every so often you can change it entirely.

3. Wear your crafts and designs. All the time. They are part of you.

4. Yes, you can wear an historical era or dress in traditional dress AND style it.

5. Create one easy signature hairstyle (and color) that takes just a few steps. Add hair if you need it or use wigs. It's fine.

6. Focus on self care as the best cosmetic. Regular showers, nice smelling soap, simple moisturizer, and regular hair wash schedule can help you unwind every day.

7. Wear clothes that make you feel good and fit. Ignore sizes.

8. Layers are beautiful for keeping up with changing temps. Light, stretchy clothes layer well.

9. Keep your clothes clean, but air dry stretchy clothes and lingerie to prevent pilling and holes.

10. You may have a lot of people in your life, but put your self care first. Period panties are a revolution. Glasses mean you can see. Love your teeth. Eat fearlessly, but healthily. Drink water. Take your vitamins. OTC pain meds are ok.

[deusfoundry]

in retrospect, there's really no other way this night could've possibly ended.

zayne likes to think that he tried. that he had exercised as much restraint as he could. that the only reason he's got his lips on your skin, planting wet kisses that trails along the path of your collarbone, is because truly, he's been pushed to the brink of his self control.

but is he really to blame when you looked absolutely divine in that dress?

"z-zayne, we have to go ..."

your words fail to register in his mind, anything and everything but the tiny sounds you make enters one ear and slides right out the other. he almost feels bad now, the memory of how ecstatic you were when he'd invited you as his plus one to a banquet hosted by akso hospital three weeks ago flashes before him. how that excitement grew tenfold when you told him about the dress you'd bought to surprise him with.

and he certainly was surprised, pleasantly so, when the sight of your bare back greeted him as he entered his bedroom.

zayne stops in his tracks, feet feeling like they've been permanently rooted to the carpeted floor of his bedroom.

you're seated in front of the vanity table he'd put together for you. the size of it is nothing like the one you have at your apartment, but it shares a similar design, the same wooden accents. it's enough that you can get ready for anything without having to make a stop at your place. he'd bought it when you first began to spend the night at his apartment.

lately though, you've been spending the better part of each week in his place. zayne's been reminding himself to build up the courage to ask you to move in with him.

he's supposed to be used to this. to your back facing him. to your eyes lighting up when you catch sight of his figure through the reflection of your vanity mirror. to you pausing in the middle of your routine to turn around, greet him with that smile of yours that sends an ache in his heart.

but this damned dress.

he forces his feet off the floor to move towards you, his heavy footsteps catching your attention. you flash him a sheepish smile, your eyes flitting towards the jacket of his dress suit draped on his arm.

"have i been taking too long?" you ask, hurriedly dragging the tip of your eyeliner to your lids.

"no," zayne stalks close enough to place his hands on the back of your chair. he drinks you in, eyes casting downwards to the fabric pooling at your lower back. your hair is pulled up to a loose bun, fastened with a clip shaped into a snowflake, leaving your bare shoulders to view. he takes the thin strap of your dress betwixt thumb and forefinger, fighting the immense urge to pull the flimsy fabric off.

it's a losing battle, and zayne succumbs to his desires in a matter of seconds. he leans down, planting one tender kiss on the base of your neck.

he holds your gaze through the mirror as he releases his hold on the strap, letting it fall just above your elbow. he uses the same fingers to map out the scars littered on your back.

"no, you're alright."

"i'm-" your words get caught in a choke. "i'm almost done. why don't you wait for me here?"

"of course." zayne kisses your cheek before taking a seat on the edge of his bed. his eyes bore into you with an intensity that you can feel, enough to induce a tremble in your hands as you add the finishing touches to your make up.

"done!" you begin tidying up your table, placing the brushes back to their compartments. "just need to put my heels on."

"allow me." zayne very nearly bolts from the bed. he takes your heels by the straps from their place beside your vanity.

slowly, zayne kneels before you.

it's then that zayne notices another ... feature of your dress, discovering a slit that goes right up to your thigh. he freezes, hands ghosting your ankle, a field of smooth skin staring at him. possibly taunting him. definitely not helping his pants that seem to be growing tighter by the minute.

"love? are you okay?"

and you had the nerve to ask. surely, you must be aware of your effect on him by now?

"yes." he breathes out an apology, sucking the air through his nose as he slides your feet into the shoe. his fingers find the straps, wrapping them around and working up your leg the way he's watched you do so countless times before. he moves closer, reaching behind your leg to tie the straps together into what he hopes is a neat bow over your calf.

zayne repeats the process with your other shoe, but this time, he lets himself linger. lets his fingers run past your leg, over your knee, until they land on your thigh. lets them prod lightly at the flesh, encasing the muscle with his palm. lets himself lean down, low enough that from your point of view, it looks he's bowing to you.

he places a kiss, first over the strap of your heels that he's just worked on, the material an odd intrusion to his moisturized lips. then another, on your knee. and finally, his lips replace the palm on your thigh.

you shiver at the sudden loss of warmth, but you find soon enough that zayne never intended on keeping his hands away from you for long.

his hand glides further up, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress where it finds itself a home there.

zayne is too caught up in you, plush skin, enchanting perfume, this godforsaken dress, to hear your voice. he's only knocked out of his trance when he feels your hand cup his cheek.

"zayne?" he looks up, chin resting on your thigh. there's a flush to your cheeks, an obvious difficulty in the way you breathe. "we're going to be late."

he nods, pushing himself off the floor. he holds his hand out for you take and gladly, you slip your hand into his with a smile, using him as leverage to stand up.

zayne makes it about halfway through the living room before something in him snaps. he strides across his apartment, footsteps quick and erratic, almost tripping over his own feet.

you hear him from where you stood before his front door, turning around with the knob between your hand to ask him if he's okay. you get barely a word out of your mouth when zayne crashes his lips onto yours.

and that's how you find yourself now, pinned against the door of his apartment, clinging to his shoulders as your legs begin to go limp.

zayne kisses you everywhere, frenzied lips travelling from your neck, the exposed skin of your cleavage. he gives you not even a second to breathe before he's back on your lips. his hands behave similarly, squeezing at every inch of skin his fingers come across.

"i'm sorry." he sends a stream of warm air to your neck, nipping lightly at the skin. "it's just- you look so- god, it's this dress."

"the event-!" zayne cuts you off by sucking at your neck hard enough that it's bound to leave a mark.

"to hell with it."

you yelp when he cradles the back of your thighs to lift you up with ease. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his lower back, bringing him close enough that you can feel the bulge poking through his pants.

"the things you do to me..." zayne whispers over your lips. he eases your entire body into just one of hands, the other moving up to your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "god, you have no idea."

except, you think you know exactly what you do to him, when he starts making his way back to the bedroom, lips eternally attached to yours.

[unintentionalseductress]

LADS Men With a Plus Size Reader

Warnings: None! This is actually very fluffy! Maybe PG13 at most! (OMG NCS, no smut?!😲😲😲) A/N: Finally, got around to writing one of the promised headcanons! Now, allow me to be clear here. The amount of customization the game allows is incredible but MC is a little bit on the smaller side, and I would have loved to see an option for a more robust body build. The same way there are naturally thin and petite women, there are also bigger and more rounded women as well and I think there was an opportunity lost there. Anyone that tries to hate on this will be blocked immediately.

Zayne:

Zayne’s large hand envelopes yours as you walk to the cafe he’d recommended. You knew it was popular amongst the hospital staff and weren’t surprised to see familiar faces; one of the tables was completely occupied by some of Zayne’s surgical nurses. 

“Why don’t you get a table?” Zayne brushes a kiss on top of your hair. “And I’ll get the food. Do you still want a hazelnut latte with your cake?”

“Yes please!” Zayne’s eyes fill with warmth as he squeezes your hand before walking towards the cashier. You wander over and pick a table near the nurses. You take out your phone and start to browse Instagram when a snide voice is heard from the table behind you. 

“Gross.”

You freeze but don’t dare turn around. Maybe it wasn’t directed at you. 

“That’s Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend?”

Shit it was.

“Why is he with that porker?”

“You’d think a man like that would have better taste.”

“I heard that they were childhood friends. He’s probably dating her out of pity.”

Even as your blood rages, you feel tears pricking the backs of your eyes. Were they aware you could hear them? And they had just said your worst fears out loud; that Zayne was dating you as a favor, not because he was actually into you. It was an old insecurity you hadn’t really grown out of. You startle slightly as Zayne suddenly sits down opposite you, food and beverages in hand. He sets down your coffee and cake while taking his own plate and tea off the tray.

“Why are you so upset?” He immediately observes the distress on your face and the way your eyes are glistening. You shake your head and dab at your eyes with a napkin, Zayne watching you intently. The cute slice of cake he’s gotten for you sits temptingly in line with your vision but right now it might as well be a lump of clay, all appetite for it gone. 

Zayne’s eyes flick to the cake and back to you. “Did I get the wrong one?”

You’re about to shake your head no when the conversation at the table behind you picks up again. Clearly, they hadn’t noticed Zayne sitting down. 

“He deserves so much more than that blob. There are so many attractive women at the hospital.”

“I agree. He could get anyone he wanted. Someone who actually takes care of their health and watches their figure.”

Shame fills you and you’re unable to look at Zayne in the eyes, knowing he had heard them, even though you know it was far from the truth. You ate all your vegetables and exercised frequently. But your body just refused to slim down no matter what you did. No matter how much you tried to lose weight, the weight just didn’t want to lose you. You’re about to get up and leave when Zayne speaks up, loud and clear, in a scathing tone. 

“Right, because weight is the only indicator of a person’s health, isn’t it?” Zayne’s words drip with sarcasm. 

The entire nurses’ table jumps at his voice, turning around to look at him.

“Oh, Dr. Zayne! We weren’t-”

“I don’t care what you weren’t doing. Do not talk about anyone that way, patient or not. Were you not taught compassion as part of your medical training? Or is it reserved for people who look a certain way?” His eyes are narrowed and the table looks tense. One by one the nurses start to get up, quietly murmuring apologies to him as they exit the cafe. 

Zayne watches them go, anger still visible in his eyes before turning his attention back to you. His hand covers yours on top of the table. “Are you all right?”

You sniff. “I try. You know I try. I cook all my meals. I exercise. We work out together. But I can’t get the weight to go away.” 

“No sweetheart. I know how much you take care of yourself.” Zayne reaches across the table to wipe your tears. “You do not have to lose any weight. You’re perfectly healthy, and as long as that’s clear, nothing else matters.”

“You’re not dating me out of pity?” You look at him uncertainly. 

“Pity?” Zayne chuckles in disbelief. “Darling when you first started coming to my office I was sure you were out of my league.” His thumb strokes your hand reassuringly.

“You’re so amazing. Talented, compassionate, considerate. And all those things will always matter more to me than anything else.”

He looks at your neglected slice of cake. “Now don’t take out your sadness on the dessert. If you don’t finish it in 5 minutes, it’s mine.”

Rafayel:

You grip your wrap firmly around your shoulders, stepping with grace into the dazzling venue. You never missed Rafayel’s shows if you could help it but this time around, you had a skin in the game. Literally.

One night after a round of passionate lovemaking, you had woken to find Rafayel painting, and when you saw what he was working on, you’d blushed and smacked him on the shoulder.

There, in the brush strokes, he had painted you sleeping on his bed, your hair in disarray as it cascaded down your back, your face buried into the pillow and not quite visible. The sheets covered you modestly but the wide curve of your hips, the pudges of fat at your side, and the bra rolls under your arms were all painted with clarity and you found you couldn’t look at it. A feeling of unease had settled in your stomach. Was this the way your boyfriend viewed you?

You had brought it up to Rafayel in a small voice. “Do you think I’m fat?”

Your heart sank as Rafayel’s face, which had been so soft, a curve in his lips as he had painted, changed into a mask of dismay. “Fat?” he had asked, looking quite upset. “Where in this painting have I made you look fat?”

“Here. And here.” You point out the areas and Rafayel pulls you against him, holding you fiercely. 

“Cutie, I swear to God I’m just painting you as you are. I don’t think you look fat at all. I’m just painting my beautiful girlfriend in all her glory.” Crushed against his chest, you try to talk. 

“But, most women in paintings don’t look like that, they have smaller hips and thighs and mine look so…ugly.”

You thought Rafayel’s heart might have broken as he heard your word of choice. “There’s nothing about you that’s ugly. None of this is ugly. It’s a body. Your body. And baby I love every inch of it exactly as it is. I didn’t mean to make you sad while I painted all the pretty little pieces of you that make you whole.” His hands trace your sides, squeezing you reassuringly. 

“There’s so much beauty in you baby. That’s all I see in this painting. You’ll always be the biggest masterpiece in my life.”

Knowing he held you in such high esteem had done wonders for your confidence, which was what you were trying to emulate as you walked into the gallery. Rafayel had hesitantly asked for your permission to showcase that painting for this show, promising he’d never use it without your consent. Nervous as you were, part of you was actually thrilled that it was going to be used. It was difficult to make out who the subject in the portrait was since your face wasn’t entirely visible. 

Still, it felt like an out-of-body experience as you approached the hung canvas, observing the crowd that flocked to it. Some people nodded at it quietly before moving on, others commented under their breath that Rafayel should have chosen a more appropriate model. 

“Can you imagine this woman being naked in his bed?” One of them asked and her friends snickered sycophantically. “He must have been drunk or something.”

“And why is that?” You turn in time to see Rafayel, dressed sharply in a couture outfit approach you and pull you to his side, his hand resting possessively on the jut of your hip. The woman backpedals.

“Mr. Rafayel! I mean, obviously, your work is unique but I can’t help but wonder what you might have been trying to convey when you painted someone with such a…heavy structure.”

Rafayel pretends to consider her words. “I suppose…people have different views on what beauty is. All I was trying to convey was how much I loved the person in the painting. Anyone that doesn’t see the beauty in this particular painting, well I’m afraid they have poor taste.”

Grinning at the affronted look on her face, Rafayel whisks you away, but not before you throw her a smug smirk over your shoulder. 

Sylus:

Who knew underground mafia bosses loved their parties as much as their money? As strange as it was, the cliques had started becoming familiar with you hanging around. Anytime Sylus was invited to a gathering, it was expected that you were his plus one. While most of the men entertained polite conversation with you, it was no secret how coveted Sylus was by the women in the N109 zone. 

They wrinkled their noses as you walked by, your head held high, knowing you shouldn’t let their words get to you but it was hard. You tell the bartender your order and put a $100 bill into the tip jar. After all, you couldn’t embarrass Sylus by handing out a miserly tip when he was supposed to be the richest man here.

You knew you looked good enough to kill; Sylus had chosen the gown you were wearing himself, even hiring a personal tailor to fit the dress to flaunt your best assets and a thick choker of diamonds glittered on your neck. The plunging V-line of the dress showed off a tempting display of creamy cleavage, the bodice of the dress pushing up your impressive bosom. The material crept over your belly and hips, your fupa visible a little more than you would have liked but Sylus had refused to hear otherwise. You remember the way his hands had caressed the bulge of fat after helping you zip up the gown, his low, contented, purr ringing in your ears.

“Kitten, you’re going to be every man’s envy tonight. How delightful that I get to flaunt you as mine.”  

A group of women, all model-thin and gorgeous, approach the bar, their cold eyes fixed on you, wearing smiles that could cut glass. Your fingers drum nervously on the counter as you try to ignore them. One of the women spies the tip you had put in and jerks her chin at you, her lips twisting into what looks like a sneer. 

“So Sylus has the money to let you throw around $100 bills into tip jars. I wonder…” She pauses and the group draws collectively closer like a cackle of hyenas. “Wouldn’t his finances be more wisely spent on other avenues?”

“Such as?” You ask carefully.

“A good plastic surgeon perhaps? Lord knows you could use some liposuction in more places than one.” Her entourage leers at you while covering their mouths to stifle their laughter.

Your back stiffens and your eyes widen in shock. You resist the urge to cover your middle. You knew you should have pushed harder to have the gown loosened. Your fupa, the soft squidge that bulged under the material of the dress…it was a mistake thinking you could attend a party with it showing up so obviously. 

A million retorts form in your head but they all die weakly on your tongue. You had no defense, and you felt pathetic that you were sitting here and taking their abuse but your mind felt frozen, like you couldn’t plan your next move. 

“How did you ever think that someone like you could pull off a dress like that?” The woman presses, her eyes boring into yours. Your pulse quickens as you try to find a way to escape.

“You’re right, she can’t pull off a dress like that.” A rich, deep voice answers the woman who pales as she sees Sylus drape his arm possessively around your shoulders. “It’ll wrinkle. That’s why I’ll be pulling it off for her as soon as we get home.”

His eyes flash scarlet as he signals to the bartender, who immediately starts pouring him a drink and expediting your cocktail, setting both glasses on coasters in front of you. You flush but try not to look too pleased as you take a sip, feeling the alcohol loosen you. 

“Mr. Sylus.” The woman’s voice changes immediately and she steps back. “We were just talking about fashion.” she fibs hastily, trying to cover up her reason for using the word ‘dress’.

“Fashion?” Sylus looks at her patronizingly. “Do tell.”

Caught, she wets her lips before saying, “Oh we were talking about jeans and how they never fit or have pockets-”

“Hmm. I can understand these problems. After all, jeans without pockets are like women without curves…there’s nowhere to put your hands.” His broad hand shifts to your hip, his fingers subtly signaling it is time for you to go. You pick up your glass and Sylus holds onto you firmly as you walk back to the crowd. 

Xavier:

You’re sweaty as you and Xavier walk back from the office gym to the locker rooms. Xavier drinks from his water bottle, swallowing zealously. “I think we’ve exercised enough for a whole week,” he says as you walk. You laugh and shake your head.

“We only did a half hour of cardio!”

“Yeah, but we lifted all those weights too! In fact, my muscles already feel stronger.” Xavier flexes his arm and a visible bicep forms, making you grin. 

“Oh so strong,” you say as you reach out to squeeze. Xavier winces slightly and you quickly withdraw. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok. I’m a little sore.” You reach the locker rooms.“I’ll wait for you outside.”

You nod and he disappears into the men's locker room. You wander into the women’s, undo the lock, and retrieve your bag, finding a stall to change your clothes. You peel off your damp leggings which stick to your plushy thighs and you drag them down, sighing in relief as the skin jiggles freely in the cool air after being stuffed in the heat of polyester for so long. 

The skin on your butt and stomach are dimpled, something you’d come to terms with. You recall how nervous you’d been to let Xavier see you in a bathing suit at the pool but now you barely glance at them. 

“It’s like your skin is smiling at me when I kiss it.” 

That’s what Xavier had said as he kissed the soft flesh lovingly. Who could possibly feel self-conscious after that analogy? As you fold away the sweaty clothes into a garment bag, you hear several of the other changing room doors open and a group of voices fills the locker room as you change. You normally wouldn’t have paid attention but you freeze when you hear Xavier’s name.

“Why do you think Xavier works out with her of all people?”

“I know! They workout together like almost everyday and she hasn’t lost any weight!”

“She probably lacks the discipline to go on a real diet. It doesn’t matter how much she exercises, that fat isn’t going to go away if she doesn’t eat healthier.”

“Xavier really needs to find a better workout buddy. She only slows him down.”

Your heart clenches in your chest as you hear the cruel commentary. How dare these women talk about your body like it was a source of entertainment for them? Both rage and sorrow fills you as you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Suddenly all you can see are the flaws.

How cute, to call cellulite ‘dimpled skin’ like it was something to be adored. You stare at the lumpy skin, at the way your stomach and arms have stretch marks everywhere, the way your skin bulges over the band of your bra. You wait in silence as the women finish their chat and you hear them exit the locker room.

After what seemed like ages, you finally finish dressing and leave the changing room feeling humiliated. The post-workout glow had all but vanished from your system and you couldn’t shake off the feeling of being perceived like a huge, hulking, ogre; built big and lumberingly, not at all cute like the princess Xavier claimed you were. You leave the dressing room, then stare in disbelief as the same group of women crowd around Xavier as he waits for you. You lurk, not wanting to be seen, then one of the women speaks up.

“Xavier, if you’re looking for another workout buddy I’d be happy to tag along.” One of them chirps perkily.

Xavier chuckles politely and shakes his head. “Thank you, but no. I have a workout buddy.”

“Oh cmon Xavier, don’t you think you need someone who can challenge you a little more?”

“I do actually. That’s why I work out with her.”

“Does she really challenge you?”

“I think she challenges me more than you. Didn't you finish last in the company relay race?” The woman’s face falls and your heart skips a beat. 

“And you,” Xavier says as he turns to face another woman. “Forgive me if I’m wrong but you struggle to push anything more than 75 pounds. My workout buddy does 150 easily. She’s very strong. Perhaps you might benefit from training with her.” The second woman looks offended even as she’s being chastised. 

Feeling your confidence soar, you skip over to Xavier feeling as light as a feather. Xavier’s eyes light up as you approach. “Ladies,” you say smugly to their scandalized faces before pulling Xavier away from them, holding his arm as you walk away. 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[mercyofempty]

i only keep tiktok installed because its the only place i can find videos of people unboxing figures with no commentary it scratches a specific itch