#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

[magicalshopping]

♡ Chronically Depressed Tee (S-3XL) by Midnight Springs ♡

[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 !!

[solradguy]

hands out like a starving victorian child, “please sir can you spare some hight for me sir”

You can have 6" of my spine to bring me down to Average American Male Height™️ but be careful because the taller you get, the shittier your spine becomes and the amount of sensible, fuel efficient, cars you can comfortably fit in decreases rapidly. Is this a burden you are willing to bear?

(art by Ann Marie Eastburn)

[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

[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 Eleven

Synopsis: A new girl has moved to Hawkins after the events of the hospital attack, with her own story and her own secrets. She's passionate about many things - her education, baking, friendship, kindness - and ready to finally make friends after a lifetime of running from place to place.

Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, discussion of disability

Rating: Minors DNI, there is smut in this chapter.

Author’s Note: Originally, I intended for Hellfire and Honeysuckle to be a one-shot, but here we are. A thank you to @writerwannabetree for their continued support, @queenlydias for being the best proofreader ever, and @ghost-not-found for keeping me grounded the past few days. The "rosy red cheeks" bit that I included in this chapter is something my Gramma used to do with me.

Word Count: 4kish

Honey

Before she could respond to Eddie’s statement, he’d lifted her up off the couch in his arms. With a surprised squeal, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “What are you doin’?” She questioned, hanging on as he started to move.

“Exactly what I said, taking you to the bedroom.” He answered, his hands splayed across her ass to hold her up. She held on tight as he pushed her door open, kicking it closed behind him before dropping her on the bed and crawling up with her. “You’re sure about this?” He checked in, leaning over her but not touching her.

She nodded, her eyes trained on his, her mouth dry. She was absolutely sure. She loved him - she’d tried to stop it from happening the moment she’d felt the crush, but it hadn’t worked. He was too kind of a person, too much of a perfect fit. Honey loved him, and even if they didn’t work out, she couldn’t imagine anyone else she’d want to have her first time with. This was a new experience they could share and explore together, and it was all she’d thought about for the last week. This was the only thing she’d wanted for days.

“I need you to use your words, Honey. Say that you’re sure.” Eddie insisted, though he’d lowered himself down so that his weight was pressing her into the mattress. 

“I want this, Eddie. I want you, and I want us together. I love you, too.” And then his lips were on hers, his tongue probing into her mouth, his fingers slipping under her shirt to tease the skin of her stomach. He was smiling against her mouth, practically vibrating from excitement.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted you and for how long. I tried to be respectful.” He whispered, sitting up to remove her shirt, then his own, leaving them to press their bare torsos together as they went in for another kiss.

“You were respectful,” She assured, her fingers playing down his chest, over his happy trail, reaching for his belt buckle, “But now I need a little less respect and a little more fun.”

He laughed against her mouth this time, lifting himself up to allow her to unfasten his jeans. He stood, pushing them down in one motion to meet his shirt on the floor before he started to work the button of her jeans, kissing along the waistband. “Beautiful, wonderful goddess of mine.” He muttered against her skin.

“Eddie?” Honey gasped, feeling the heat of his breath ghost over her as he pulled her jeans and underwear down together.

“What, baby doll?” He asked, leaning over her, letting his fingers work their way inside to stretch her out.

“Are you sure?” She squeaked out, checking in on him too. Sure, this was a big step for her, but it was just as big for him. She had to know he was ready too. Her brain was already clouding from the pressure he was applying to that special spot inside, her legs falling open on instinct. They’d spent the last week learning each other’s bodies and he’d picked up way too quickly on exactly how to make her melt. But she needed to know he was ready too, he wanted this as much as her.

Eddie chuckled, bringing her hand down to his erection, already impossibly hard and leaking. “What do you think, baby? I’ve been ready since the first time I saw you in those tiny shorts during our first Hellfire session.”

Honey bit her lower lip, letting her fingers move over his length as he looked down to where his fingers disappeared inside her. She felt herself blushing as she listened to him muttering, “So beautiful, such a beautiful pussy,” to himself. He was working her to a quick orgasm - she could feel the coil in her belly tightening every second, bringing her closer and closer to the explosion she’d learned he could give her. She tried to focus on touching him too, squeezing and pumping his cock in her fist. Her movements started to become erratic as she felt herself getting close to the edge. 

She was whimpering his name, eyes squeezed shut, when he finally leaned down to kiss her. “Cum for me, Honey. Just one, then we’ll do it together. Okay? Come on, baby.”

She nodded, moaning out his name against his mouth as she pushed herself to meet his hand. All at once, the coil snapped and she felt heat rush through her body, emanating from his fingers inside her.

She was gasping for air when she slumped back down on the bed, listening to him chuckle. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, baby.” He whispered, nudging her nose with his as he came down for another kiss and situated himself between her legs. She heard herself whimper, her hand sliding up his shoulder and to the back of his head, tangling in his frizzy hair. 

“You’re beautiful all the time.” She muttered against his lips, opening her eyes to see him blush. She gasped as she felt him nudging his cock against her opening, running himself up and down between her pussy lips to gather some of her slick before he started pushing himself in.

“This part hurts the girl, sometimes. Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?” He whispered, their noses still pressed together, lips a breath apart. “Fuck, you feel good.”

Honey sucked air in through her teeth, the nails of her other hand digging into the bed sheets. Hurt wasn’t the right word for this. This was pressure, burning, stretching. This was an uncomfortable fullness, pushing the air out of her body. She squeezed her eyes closed against the pain, so tight that she saw red and black swirls behind her eyelids. 

“Honey, do you need me to stop?” His voice was next to her ear now, his breath fanning over it.

“No, just…gimme a minute. It’s a lot.” She whispered back, trying to take deep breaths, to bring oxygen back into her lungs.

As requested, he paused, putting his weight on his forearms so he could lift his head, locking eyes with her. “Is it too much?” He asked, concern coloring his words.

“I won’t give you the ego boost of sayin’ your dick is too big.” She joked weakly, wincing when she giggled at her own quip. She heard him chuckle and opened her eyes to look up at him, shifting herself under him. There he was, those big brown eyes like melted chocolate shining with a light from within, the dark stubble along his jaw framing his lips swollen from kisses, his frizzy black mane falling around his face and tickling her cheeks. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He shifted, lifting one hand to push her curls off of her forehead. “Do you want me to start moving again?”

She nodded, taking in another deep breath as she felt him push further inside, reaching deeper than she ever knew sensation could exist. It felt like another lifetime before he finally stopped pushing in, coming to rest with his pelvis pressed to hers.

“I’m not going to move until you tell me to, okay? You’re doing so good, baby.” He whispered, planting a kiss on her lips when she whined. 

“You can move just…start slow.” She gasped out, her lungs failing her. It felt like all the space in her body was filled by him, pressing the air out of her lungs, stretching her insides. Would this feeling ever go away, or would sex always feel like too much for her body? She was pulled from her ruminations when he thrust into her for the first time, pulling out far enough that she finally felt like she could get a full breath in, before pushing back in and forcing that air right back out of her body.

And again.

And again.

And again.

It was on the fifth thrust that the discomfort finally began to fade, replaced by that familiar warmth in her belly, and she was able to breathe a little easier. The change in her demeanor must have been obvious, because Eddie spoke up.

“There’s my girl. Does it feel good?” He asked, and she nodded, whimpering. 

“It’s gettin’ there. Not as good as when you finger me, though.” She answered honestly, and he chuckled, his breath fanning over her face.

“I think that’s an angle issue, hold on.” He shifted, picking himself up so that he was sat back on his knees, and pushed her knees out and down towards her, forcing them back and open. He did so slowly, making sure her hips stayed in place, and moved so that she could rest her legs against his shoulders while his hands supported her hips. On his next thrust, she moaned, toes curling.

“Do that again.” She gasped out, fingers curling into the blanket under her.

“This?” He teased, obliging, hitting the spongy spot that made her eyes roll back.

“Yes, Eddie. That. There. Keep goin’.” Her voice was breathless, whining. “Please.”

“So polite.” He complimented, his tone bordering on condescending, but he obeyed, sweat beading on his forehead as he kept up the pace. Honey tried to pay attention to him, to listen to his little moans, to maintain eye contact, but she couldn’t. The new angle was too intense, building her orgasm. Now this was what she thought sex was supposed to feel like, the way musicians sang about and poets wrote about. The motion, like water pulling from the sand only to come back and hit the shore again, eroding away at inhibition, leaving drops of itself in the sand to build on. With every thrust, the wave pulled back further, came back harder, left more of itself in her belly. Honey felt herself drowning, her fingers reaching out, looking for a life preserver to bring her back.

“Eddie…” It was half a moan, half a whisper, begging for his presence. She felt his fingers lace in hers, felt him lean over her to press her hands back in the mattress. Honey opened her eyes, looking up at him. “I’m gonna-” She started, cutting herself off with a squeak when he thrust in again.

“I know, I know. Me too, baby.” His voice was raspy, strained, breathless. “Come on, you’ve done so good. Cum for me.” He ordered, his fingers tightening around hers, keeping her hands in a vice grip.

All at once, her insides exploded. Warmth flooded her stomach, stars invaded her eyes, her lungs forgot how to inflate, and time stood still as the waves crashed down again and again, with no space between them. Vaguely, from far away, she heard herself calling his name and she was almost positive she heard him call her in response.

And then she was coming back to him, and he was there next to her, sweaty and panting, grinning. His hair was a wild mess, tangled, stuck to his face, his eyes wide and watery. One hand was holding his head up, elbow in the mattress, and the other was still laced with hers, holding onto her as she caught her breath. 

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

Eddie

“You know how people say ‘that was better than sex’ when they have good food or somethin’?” She asked. 

Eddie wondered if her brain had been deprived of oxygen for too long. “Yeah?”

“They’re lyin’. There’s no way anythin’s better than that.” She stated, giggling.

He found himself laughing with her. “That was amazing. I’m-” He stopped himself, because he realized he didn’t have words to describe what he was feeling, what the experience had been. The overwhelming realization that Honey had just trusted him with something no one else had ever had access to, shown herself in a vulnerable state that no one had seen, just for him, dawned on him all at once and he felt a thick lump form in his throat. For the first time since they’d met, Eddie understood what Honey felt like when she was overcome with affection. 

When the first tear fell down his cheek, he heard Honey sniffle in unison. “Now don’t you cry, you’ll get me goin’ too.” She joked, though she pulled him to her, pressing his head into her collarbone and burying her face against his scalp. Eddie brought his arms around her, holding her to him. They stayed that way until the emotions passed, their heartbeats slowing, their skin slowly cooling. Finally, when their eyes had dried, Honey began to squirm. “I need to use the bathroom.” She said quietly, shifting under him.

Eddie moved off of her, sitting up. “Do you need help?”

She shook her head. “Thanks for the offer, but I can pee on my own.” She said, laughing, before sliding off the bed and limping out of the room.

Eddie flopped back on her bed, ignoring the small wet spot where she had been laying next to him. He was still in shock. He’d just lost his virginity, to the sweetest and prettiest girl he’d ever met, and she was his, and she was coming back in a few minutes. He’d get to hold her again, kiss her again, tell her how wonderful she was. And he could do it again and again, as much as he wanted, because she was his and he was hers and they were each other's. He closed his eyes, a fond smile spreading over his face. 

Half an hour later, after they’d both cleaned themselves up and Honey had balled up the top blanket to throw in the wash, the two of them were cuddled up in her bed, partially clothed, nestled under the covers. “You know, we’ll have to tell our friends on Monday.” She said quietly, her fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.

“What, that we had sex?” He feigned ignorance, his hand trailing up and down her back.

“No, silly, that we’re together.” She giggled, giving him a playful shove.

“Do we have to? You know they’ll probably have a bunch of questions-” He started to protest, but he was stopped by another shove.

“They’re our friends, Eddie. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already figured it out, honestly.” She interrupted. 

“Okay, fine, we’ll tell them. But it’s gonna break Freak’s heart. You know he can’t resist me.” Eddie joked, feeling himself smile so wide at her giggle that his cheeks hurt. He tilted his head back, resting it against her headboard, letting himself take in the room that he’d spent so much time in this past week. As he looked around, he thought of how this room was so uniquely perfect for Honey - had he been asked to look at the rooms of all of the members of Hellfire, even without knowing them, and match the person to the room, he’d know this one belonged to Honey. The bookshelves, so full of books that she’d started shoving them wherever they fit, even on top of other books. The sewing kit and knitting needles, stabbed into a ball of multicolored yarn, shoved into a basket in the corner of her room and gathering dust. The vanity desk, with the mirror removed, that she’d put her typewriter on, with pages crumpled around it, littering the floor. The pictures, half of them in frames and the other half pinned to the wall - young Honey with her mother in a field of bluebonnets, toddler Honey sitting on Santa’s lap (and screaming bloody murder, from the looks of it), a few polaroids of people Eddie had never seen with Honey at various ages, probably old classmates. And yellow, everywhere he looked. A pale yellow bedspread, with a multicolored quilt of different flowers - definitely made by someone else. The sunflower blanket he’d bought her. The yellow paint on her bookshelf. The yellow rug on her floor. Yellow, everywhere, like the sun had exploded in her room.

“Why is yellow your favorite color?” The question left his mouth before he really thought about it. He felt her shift, sitting up, and pouted at the loss of contact. She pulled the quilt up around her shoulders, turning to face him. 

“It’s a sad answer.” She told him, and he could see the truth in her face. It was sad, definitely. But he wanted to know. He knew he loved her, yet sometimes he felt he hardly knew her. All those little pieces of history she kept locked away - her Aunt Lilah, whom she discussed so often, but had no photos of. Her father in prison, who’d abused her and her mother. But what about the rest of her family? Why did she like yellow and not blue or pink? Where was her favorite place to live? What did she want to do, when they finished school in a few months? He didn’t know any of these answers.

“Tell me anyway.”

She took a deep breath, looking around the room. “When Mama left my father, we went to stay with my Aunt Lilah.” She started, but he interrupted.

“I knew that.”

“Hush, I’m gettin’ there.” He obliged, pretending to zip his mouth closed. She continued. “Aunt Lilah had a little garden out in the back, with flowers she was growin’. Mostly roses, but in all different colors. Pink roses, white, yellow, red, even green. She loved them. Said the feelin’ of the rose petals reminded her of gentle kisses. She’d pick the brightest ones, pick a couple of petals off of them, and run them over my cheeks. She said it would give me red, rosy cheeks.” 

Honey sniffled, and Eddie put a hand on her knee. She put her hand over his. “That sounds like it was a beautiful way to spend summers.” Eddie interjected. It really did sound like a dream. 

“It was. But anyway. The year that I got diagnosed, I was really upset at first. And I was so mad that I could never be normal. I went down to the creek by myself, and I was just sittin’ there at the bank, bein’ mad, when Aunt Lilah came down and sat with me. She had a bunch of rose petals in her hands, all the colors. We just sat there for awhile, just bein’ quiet, lettin’ the sun be warm and the creek water run. And then I got annoyed, because her nose whistled when she breathed, and I wanted to be alone. So I snapped and asked her why she was botherin’ me.”

“Ouch. That’s harsh.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed over her knee, as though he could rub away the guilt.

Honey made a pained face. “Yeah. Wasn’t very nice of me. But Aunt Lilah, she was a saint. She picked up the red petals, and she rubbed them on my cheeks. And she said ‘for red, rosy cheeks, full of passion and love’. And then she put them in my hand. And then she picked up the white ones, and she rubbed those on my face, and said ‘for a bright smile, when facin’ a new challenge’, and put it in my hand. And then, with the green petals, she said ‘for eyes that search for balance and harmony’. With the pink, she said ‘a touch of grace and elegance, when the world is so dark and unfair’. And then she picked up the yellow, and she touched it to my chest, and she said ‘For a heart full of warmth and happiness, no matter the challenges life brings’. And then she closed my hands around all the petals, and kissed my fingers, and left.”

Eddie listened, nodding his head. It was a beautiful story. Lilah sounded wise beyond her years, kind in ways that Honey reflected now. Clearly, her influence on Honey had been tremendous. But none of this told him why yellow was her favorite color.

“I sat there until it started to get dark, lookin’ at those flower petals. And I thought about all those things Lilah had wished for me, there on the creekside. Harmony, balance, grace, elegance, passion, love, a bright smile, a heart of warmth and happiness. I thought about how all of those were so important, but the one that I really, really liked, was happiness. I wanted happiness, above all else, in my life. I wanted to be able to be happy even when I was hurtin’. I wanted to be happy even if I couldn’t do everythin’ I’d hoped to do. I wanted the ability to look around at my life, every day, and say honestly, ‘I’m happy’. And that’s what the yellow petals were for.”

Honey stood up, going over to her bookshelf, and picked up one of her photo albums. She came back to the bed, opening the album, flipping through the worn plastic pages, and set it down next to him. In the photo, there was a young Honey - Early teens, by the look of it - with her bright strawberry curls piled into a hair wrap, spilling over the sides and into her face. Her arm was slung over the seated woman she stood next to. The seated woman had black hair, straight, pulled back into the braid that hung like a rope over the opposite shoulder, her dark eyes partially hidden by the crinkle around her eyes as she smiled with Honey at the camera. They wore matching yellow overalls and white shirts, with dirt smudged all over their clothes and faces. In the background of the picture, he could see an open door, and a peek of flowers just to the right. Around the photo, Honey had pressed, preserved, and arranged the rose petals, writing their meanings next to them.

Eddie sat up, holding the photo album. “Is this your Aunt Lilah?” He asked, though he didn’t know who else it could be. Honey nodded. 

“That was the end of that summer. After she talked to me that day, I came home and said I wanted a yellow dress. We couldn’t find one anywhere, but we found those overalls at Walmart and figured that would do. Then we realized they had adult ones too, so Lilah bought some. Mama said yellow makes her look sick, so she didn’t want them. But we wore those the last day before we left, and we went and repotted and replanted a bunch of her flowers. Yellow’s been my favorite color since then. I keep it around me so I remember to find happiness, warmth, and affection everywhere.”

Eddie stared at the picture a little while longer. Little Honey, her nose scrunched up, brown freckles dotting her face, curls bouncing all around her, mouth open in a laugh, her hip jutted out in a sassy stance; And Lilah, exuding a calm, wise exterior, even in her joy. One arm around Honey’s waist, one hand in her lap, her head turned just slightly towards Honey, pure love for the little girl she’d helped raise across her face. “She looks…” Eddie searched for the words. Sweet. Beautiful. Strong. Loving. “Kind. She looks kind.” He finally decided, closing the album gently. 

“She was.” Honey put the album back on the shelf, climbing back into bed with him and pulling the blankets up around them as she snuggled against him. Eddie felt her sigh against his chest, and as much as he knew he should go home soon, he decided to stay a little longer. He wrapped his arms around her, turning so he could pull her flush against his body, and settled under the warm blankets with her. 

“Honey?” He whispered it against her skin, letting his lips brush her flesh.

“Hm?” Her voice was already so soft, so close to sleep.

“Thanks for introducing me to Lilah.” He heard her sniffle in response.

They stayed wrapped together until the sun started to rise behind her curtains, dozing in and out, snuggled under the heavy quilt and bedspread, and Eddie snuck away just an hour before her mother’s car pulled back into the driveway. As he left, he kissed Honey’s cheek, promising to see her again soon.

[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.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

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. 

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating