#tw: body insecurity
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Perfect For Me (Steven Grant x Reader)
Words: 2.2K
Warnings/Themes: Angst,Self-hatred, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, fluff, light nudity (non-sexual)
Characters/Pairings: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector
liavaleska asked:
Hellooo! How are you? I hope you are doing great. Can I request something where reader comforts Steven Grant when he is feeling insecure about his body? Ty❤️
A/N: Sorry it took me a while to get this up! But here it is and I hope you enjoy it. It came out a tab bit angstier than I intially wanted but I'm quite proud of this one! Let me know what you think :)
Tired eyes mindlessly watched the little goldfish bob around its tank. The only sound filling the apartment was that of the tank’s filter. Rain pattered against the windows. Each door that opened or closed in the building had her peeking at the door through the tank. It was a quiet evening. As it had been for the past few days, nearing two weeks.
Nearly two weeks of silence. All because the other occupant of the apartment was hardly around anymore. Something was up with one of the boys. She had hoped one of them would have confided in her. But they are alters of Marc Spector. Mr. Secret.
The notion of her husband keeping secrets saddened her. It wasn’t hard to suspect that something was wrong. Steven would be up before her and leaving for work earlier than usual. Before he would wrap himself tighter around her when her alarm would go off, begging her to stay in bed for a few more minutes.
He had also picked up the habit of jogging. At first, she had been happy for him; happy he had found a healthy hobby. But now she’s questioning how healthy it really is. The bags under his eyes darkened with the passing of each day. Getting up early, going on jogs, and working as Khonshu’s personal plaything, had to be tiring. Not to mention she didn’t really see him enough to confirm that he had eaten that day.
“At least you’re around, huh, Gus?” She murmured, chin resting on her palm. The fish swam into his pyramid. A groan left her as she hung her head. Great. Even the fish didn’t want to spend time with her. Pushing out of her seat, she decided it was time for bed. The clock on the wall read 1am.
A quick glance at her phone showed that her messages had been read. But there had been no response.
‘Hey, love. Just wondering when you’ll be home. Any ideas for dinner?’
Read at 7:30pm.
‘Hey, again, you’re probably busy so I wrapped up dinner for you. Chinese takeout, your favorite! Love you <3’
Read at 10:46pm
With a heavy heart, she typed out one last text.
‘Going to bed now. Love you, darling’
She didn’t wait for a reply and stuck her phone on the charger. Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared at the empty bed. This would be the sixth night in a row that she would be going to bed by herself. The cold, white duvet laughed up at her. Sniffling, she padded over to the closet and pulled out one of Steven’s hoodies, and tugged it on. His scent filled her nose but didn’t bring the comfort she craved. Rather, it broke the dam holding back her tears.
She wished she could help him. Wished he let her help him. Wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone in whatever he was going through. If only he would just let her in. Her teeth bit into the soft flesh of her lip as she tried to stifle the sobs. Curled up on the bed, she hugged Steven’s pillow to her chest.
Keys knocking against the door had her freezing. The door slowly creaked open and heavy, tired footsteps entered the apartment. The sound of a duffle hitting the floor broke her out of her trance and had her shooting up.
“Steven?” The figure outlined by the light of the fish tank shuffled over to the bed, standing at the foot.
“No, sorry…” Marc said, voice low and, dare she say, sad. She quickly flicked on the lamp on her nightstand, beckoning him towards her.
“What’s wrong, Marc? Are- are you guys okay?”
Marc was silent for a few heartbeats, his silence giving her time to think of every possible thing that could be wrong. Steven doesn’t love her anymore, Khonshu’s asking too much, they have some terminal disease… Her lip wobbled more with each new possibility.
“No… No, we’re not okay.” Marc whispered, “Steven doesn’t want me to tell you… but I don’t think he’s okay.”
He sounded so tired, and his eyes didn’t even come up to meet hers as he spoke. Whatever was wrong, it had been going on for a while and it’s become too much for Marc to handle. With a frown, she grabbed his hand to tug him onto the bed.
While she wasn’t in a romantic relationship with him, Marc was still important to her. He was like a brother to her. Without him, she wouldn’t even have Steven.
“Tell me, Marc… Tell me what’s wrong,” she begged softly. If he closed the door now after letting her get a toe in, she might completely break down. He sagged forward with his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
“I just wish I could have protected him better… All of this is my fault. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know this has been hurting you too, but I don’t know how to help him. He won’t eat; he runs until we have blisters… Hell, he’s been fronting during almost every fight and I can’t make him give me the body…”
It was as if once the words started pouring out of his mouth, they wouldn’t stop.
“The only reason I’m fronting now is that I think he was just too exhausted to…” The sigh that left him was far beyond his age. It was the sigh of someone too tired to continue. “You gotta help us, Y/N… You gotta help Steven.”
With a tear-streaked face, she nodded.
<><>
Marc had showered and changed into Steven’s favorite pajamas before climbing into bed. Y/N lay on her side of the bed, wishing that it was her husband she was falling asleep next to. She wanted to hold him close, to protect him from the dangers of his own mind. She could only hope that when she woke up, it would be Steven kissing her awake as he used to.
Her sleep was a light and fitful one. An odd form of sleep paralysis. She could hear the sounds of their apartment, and Marc’s heavy snores next to her. But she couldn’t move. Worry and fear gripped her body like a vice.
Time seemed to still be flowing as one moment she was hearing Marc’s snores, then the next Steven’s much softer breaths. Unconsciously, her hand drifted toward her husband. Her love. Her partner who needed her help.
She couldn’t be sure if her hand ever touched him. Because it was his strained whispers that had her fully conscious. The lamp in the living area was lit and he stood in front of a full-length mirror.
“You overstepped, mate. I told you not to tell her.”
She blinked heavily, unsure if this was a dream or not. A quick hand over his side of the bed told her that it was not and that he hadn’t been gone for long.
“I don’t care! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t be here with a big bloody scar on our chest from that fight! Or the other dozen scars everywhere else!” His voice started to rise.
She couldn’t help but stare at his back as he whispered furiously into the mirror on the other side of the apartment.
“She’s not gonna… she wouldn’t want a human scratching post. Y/N deserves more than… this. I mean, look at us…” He inhaled a shuttering breath. His strong hands gripped the edge of the standup mirror. “A million scars, rubbish bags under our eyes… gross stretch marks, unflattering dad bod.”
His final whispered confession had her finally jumping out of bed.
“I just wish I could be the man she deserves.”
She gave him no time to react before she slammed into his back, wrapping her arms around his middle and bunching the fabric of his shirt in her hands.
His breath caught in his throat, shame filling him. He could feel her sobs more than hear them. Gods, he made her upset. That had been the last thing he wanted to do, but Marc’s words from earlier rang through his head.
“You’re hurting her. Leaving early, coming home late, not making love with her, and keeping the lights off when you do. It’s hurting her. She told me so.”
A sob forced its way from his throat, and hot tears fell down his cheeks. His teeth bit harshly into his lip as he bowed his head, unwilling to look at the reflection of Marc’s pitying look.
“I’m so sorry…So, so sorry.” His hands grasped hers over his chest, right over the scar that had started this whole thing. She shook her head, whimpering into his shirt.
“No, please, Steven.” She took a shuddering breath, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not mad; or upset with you… I’m upset for you.”
His eyes screwed closed, his lips pressed into a line to suppress his cries.
“I wish I could take this pain away from you. I wish I could love these thoughts out of your mind. You do such an amazing job of protecting me; I wish I did a better job at protecting you.” She pulled her hands from his to drift to his sides and gently turned him to face her.
He kept his head bowed. The shame, the self-hatred, the ugly expression on his face, it wasn’t something she needed to see. The flinch he gave when her gentle hand cupped his cheek was uncontrollable. Her hand dropped back down to her side.
“Steven, let me help you. Whatever you’re trying to keep from me, whatever it is you are trying to hide, I will still love you. Nothing will ever make me not love you; nothing will ever make me think you are undeserving. You are the only man in this entire universe that I will ever love.”
He didn’t flinch when her hand touched him this time. Instead, he pressed his tear-stained cheek into her palm. They both let out heavy breaths. A hand littered with scars he hated so much, gripped her waist. The other, just as scarred as the right, cupped the back of her neck and he brought their foreheads together.
“I’m sorry that I’ve upset you, love. I just... I don’t know how to… how to let someone help. But I know I need it.” Steven swallowed the lump still stuck in his throat. “I am truly fortunate to have you be the one to help me, though.”
“I’m even luckier to have you,” She whispered before leaning forward to press her lips to his. His grip tightened and he pulled her flush to his chest. Flames followed in the wake of her fingers tracing up his stomach to rest on his chest, lovingly stroking the raised skin of the scar. His heart was thundering and he was sure she could feel it under her fingertips.
Salty tears blended on their skin, hiccupping sobs breaking from his sweet lips. As if touching glass, she wiped his tears away, cooing and shushing him. Chocolate eyes locked with hers. Walking backward and not breaking eye contact, she tugged him by the hand towards the bed. Steven followed obediently while wiping his tears with his sleeve.
The bed was cool against her skin as she leaned against the pillows, opening her arms for him. The air was thick with tension as he stood still, watching her. The stifling air was broken when he pulled his shirt over his head with shaking hands. His body is on full display in the dim lighting. While the suit heals wounds, it doesn’t erase scars.
It didn’t seem possible, the amount of love and acceptance in her gaze. It made his breath catch in his throat and warm goosebumps break out over his skin. Wishing for him to be in her arms, she made grabby hands for him. The action made his lips quirk up.
Slowly, he crawled in between her legs and she sat up to wrap her arms around his middle. Soft lips ghosted over the scar as her hands smoothed over his sides. His head was nuzzled into her hair and his arms wrapped around her back.
After breathing each other in, she leaned back and guided him to rest his head on her chest. His strong arms constricted around her middle. Her socked foot caressed his calf while her lips kissed the top of his head.
“If I get too heavy, I can move.” He couldn’t help but mumble. Gentle fingers carded through his hair and trailed down his back. Painted nails lightly scraped over his skin, leaving a trail of more goosebumps.
“If you dare move, I’m going to handcuff you to myself and swallow the key,” she threatened.
Steven let out a breathy chuckle and relaxed more into her. The patterns she was tracing into his skin were hypnotic and slowly, his eyes began to drift closed. A low sweet hum filled his ears.
As he focused on her fingers, he realized she wasn’t just doodling random patterns. It was letters. Words.
‘I love you’
‘Perfect’
‘Strong’
Tears pricked his eyes once more. He tilted his head to press a lingering kiss to her collarbone.
“I’ve got you, Steven. I’m not going anywhere. Not when I’ve got the perfect man for me in my arms.”
#my writing#grace writes shit#fluff#reader insert#request#steven grant#steven grant x reader#angst#tw: body insecurity#tw: mental health#tw: self loathing#moon knight x reader#moon knight#marc spector
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Layout for next comic done, head empty only Breeil scenario once again - this time not in comic form!
TW// body insecurity (negativity), implied eating disorder
"Bree, what's the matter?"
"Look at me!", she freed herself from his arms, "Look at my chest, my arms, my legs, my stomach! How can ye think I'm pretty when I'm not as thin as I used to be?! How can ye love me when I look like this?!"
Neil stared at her. He didn't understand what she meant, where this was coming from. He never gave her reason to doubt his adoration for her - so he thought at least. Breena kept avoiding his eyes and quickly turned her back to him, hiding herself and her body from the man she loved. The thought that he will leave her now that her body is so different tortured her. She didn't want him to leave. Neil was the best thing to happen to her...
"Bree, you are beautiful to me. And I mean that wi' all my heart. A few additional pounds willna change that. Especially not because that's more than natural in yer circumstances."
"My circumstances?", she turned her head in his direction slightly.
"Aye, yer pregnancy. Ye're growing a person inside o' ya, love. Of course yer body is changing."
He slowly closed the gap between them and gently brushed a red curl out of her face. He examined her face and noticed her quivering lip and her still avoiding eyes becoming glassy. It's rare he saw his wife so upset and vulnerable. He knew a pregnancy had its impact on the becoming mother's emotionality but something told him there was more to Breena's feelings.
"I'm just wondering, where ye get the idea from that I only love ye when ye're thin? Did I make ye feel like that?", he traced his thumb down her cheek. His voice calm and soft.
"It's not you."
...
"Was it them?"
She closed her eyes and the longer she thought about "them" the more her brows furrowed above her red-brown lashes. "Them" referred to the people that Breena was raised by. She didn't think they were worth the title of "parents". Parents are loving, they're caring and they'd never cause their child to run away from home with 16 because it's become unbearable to live with them. To Breena those two people she had to live with were but merely her creators. That was also what she referred to them as whenever they still influenced her life... like now.
"Titan...", Neil sighed, knowing that he found the reason behind his wife's behavior. Breena's creators barely were a topic in their conversations or a part of their life but whenever they did come up, it was never in good context. "What did they tell you?"
She glanced at her husband. It wasn't long but Neil was happy she had met his eyes finally even if just for a second. It meant she was willing to open up about it to him and she was building up strength to reopen a part from that chapter of her life that she actually long had closed and desperately wanted to seal and lock away. It was hard for her. He knew that.
Caressing his palms over her arms until he reached her hands and curling his fingers around them, he let her take her time. His thumb carefully ran across her knuckles - back and forth. It was his way of reassuring her. He's here. He's listening. She has all his attention. She's not alone.
Breena squeezed his hand as she took a breath. She hated that she troubled him with her problems of the past. She learned to keep her frustration to herself and in fear of bothering people dear to her never let them out. Communication never worked in her home, why should it work outside of it? Of course, Breena never would've bothered her friends nor is she bothering Neil or her newly found family-in-law with her feelings. But unfortunately old habits break hard.
"Ever since I was a lass, no older than 6, I was told that my appearance is the most important thing I have to offer. If I'm not pretty and a certain weight, I dinna deserve affection or... love. Nobody wants me if I'm not thin. Nobody would think me worthy. If I'm not in the image of my creators, I'll be lonely til my last days. So I...", she paused, taking a shaky breath, "...I always tried to fit in that expectation. Whenever I didna fit it, I was called worthless, ugly and denied food. Whenever I did fit, I was praised... at least one thing I did right."
"Oh, mo gaol...", Neil whispered, "I'm so sorry."
He squeezes her trembling hand tightly. That was the reason behind her eating habits, he finally figured. She barely ate, only small portions if any at all, and his mother and himself were always trying to get her to eat more but without much success. With the pregnancy she had started eating more at last but she always felt bad afterwards and apologized for eating so much and would deny herself food "to make up for it". He had theorized there was a reason to it but he never wanted to push her to talk about it.
"They're so wrong.", he cupped her face and leaned his forehead on hers, "Ye're worthy of love no matter what yer body looks like and no matter what ye weigh. I love you regardless. I always will."
"Ye will?", she hicced.
"Aye. I asked ye to marry me because I dinna want to live a life wi'out ye. Bree, ye are so much more than yer looks. I'm sorry yer creators told you such terrible lies and treated ye so horribly. I only wish we had met sooner so that I could've proven them wrong and given you the love and affection that ye deserve earlier."
Breena sniffed as his thumbs caught her tears. She buried her face in his palm and gave her emotions uncontrolled freedom. Sobbing she threw herself onto her husband's chest, clenching his shirt. Instinctively, Neil wrapped his arms around her back, securing her in that position.
"Neil, I-"
"Shh. There's nothing more for you to say.", he turned his face to press a kiss to her temple. He held her for a while, let her cry, comforted her by brushing through her curls. "I can only imagine how difficult it must've been for ye and how difficult it still is but... if I may, and if ye want to, I will do everything in my power to help ye heal. I'm here."
She pulled away from his chest to look at him. Cracking a smile she was the one to cup his face now. "I am so lucky and thankful to have ye."
"Aye.", he smiled back adoringly, "And I'm afraid ye're stuck wi' me 'until death do us part'."
Breena chuckled at him quoting their vows. She brushed a brown lock behind his ear before she met his golden eyes once again, gazing at her as if she was a deity and the only thing he cared about. She never knew what love really felt like but when Neil was with her, looking at her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, kissing her and smiling at her, she was sure to have found it. And she was willing to allow him to help her actually heal and actually, at last, close the chapter of her past.
"I can live wi' that."
#breena bower#neil bower#toh ocs#tdaac#not main story related#tw: body insecurity#tw: eating disorder
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Beauty in the eye
Yandere Emperor's Children
This could be seen as an OC but I'm doing my best with this x reader (please someone tell me if it's working) ((or would it better to switch to you vs she))
tw: Yandere, nudity? body horror? dubious consent? Its slannesh time again, Emperor's children ((Also please let me know if I miss some I'm trying my best to warn ya'll ))
The moans that drifted around the room. The white marble against the gold filigree and royal purple fabrics. As men, women, and everything in between experienced the ecstasy of Slannesh. Palion Hiss ran his tongue against the exposed spine of one of his devotees. Their moans and shrieks of pain fluttered about his gallery as he was searching for a new piece.
Oh how bored he was with all the smooth shapes... the only thing that could stimulate his eyes were the way the silken fabrics would pool and wrinkle... the pulsing bloody forms of peeled flesh. The way thrown paint would chaotically splatter against the wall. It's all because he had gotten a new muse.
He tossed the devotee to the side ignoring the shriek of pain and the way they thrashed in agony. His eyes roamed over the undressed shapes before his muse walked in. Covered in a dark blue robe with a hood and wearing a white porcelain mask. He painted the red lips and applied the delicate blush.
He could see her eyes dart over the sea of bodies and shy away as one thrashing body gets too close. White gloves cover her hands... every inch of skin covered... he knew her feet were bare but the length of the robes.... hid it all from their eyes. Palion bit his bottom lip watching her eyes shy away from the more lurid acts going on in his gallery. It made his tongue tie knots on itself with how shy she would be.
She walked closer to his throne as she held a tray with food for him and drugs. Hmm he's sure he ordered that ages ago... no wonder he was bored he had been out of his muse's light for so long. How he watches, clawed fingers just idly playing with his long silver locks, her move closer and waits. He'd have to train her more... doesn't she realize that she can just walk up to him climb into his lap even he wants her to be his muse. A jerk of his chin as his eyes flick over to a cacophony of sounds for a moment as her voice is nearly drowned out by it. "Forgive my delay my lord... I was... um kept."
Palion felt his jaw tense. Did someone touch something that was his?! She was his muse, would one of his brothers dare even touch her. "Explain now." He said far too gruffly as he watched the tray start to shake.
"I had... I had to take the long way back. I don't know who they were but... they just were harassing me and trying to pull off my mask." Her meek voice sings to him of fear and shame.
"One of my brothers?" He sees her hesitate, his tongue rolls the drug laced food inside of his mouth. His muse experiences far many more luxuries than any of these drugged out devotees or playthings and one such luxury is her being allowed to hesitate, "Pretty little muse... you'll be safe with me. You just have to only move your head yes or no..." He watched her slowly nod. His hand gently grabbed her chin as he placed a chaste kiss on the porcelain forehead leaving a ghost of purple lipstick on the smooth material. "I'll take care of it... and of course you."
-----
Perfect bodies move all around you. Perfect breasts... waists that are attractive... muscles that run over the body... literally everyone in this room is a work of art. All in the throws of pleasure or pain. Perfect flesh being flayed from a body... the perfect face of pleasure as someone else is fucked dumb... even the ones you think have overdosed lay there looking perfect.
Your skin itches and buzzes as you feel so out of place... you're horribly imperfect as you stand besides Master Palion's throne as he eats and drinks with a bored look on his face. He looks so perfect... everything is perfect. You rapidly blink away the tears as you look down at the floor. You're still upset about earlier... about someone trying to touch your mask... trying to see your face. You're too ugly to be here!
"My muse?" You heard Palion's voice as your head snaps up in worry. Did you breathe too loudly? Did you let out a sad whimper? You can't stop the tremor of fear as he looks at you concerned. He has been a good master but he is in the depths of the Prince's embrace... you're use to masters like that being unpredictable... its how you had gotten disfigured.
"Master?" You whisper softly.
"EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!" He suddenly snarls slamming his hands on the marble arms of the throne and you bow as you go to scurry off but he points at you muttering, "Stay."
It's quiet... saved for the dripping of blood and wine as you follow that perfect stride of his. The way his silver hair sways back and forth like a silken furred tail. You hate it here. You hate having Slanneshi masters... it makes you feel so hideous.
You whimper as your feet leave the bare marble floors and you find yourself sinking into a sea of plushness. Yet you know the bed is firm just you have your own little plush space on his bed. You hear the lock of the door as you roll over and hide your face into a pillow.
"My muse. Look at me." You shake your head at that request. You can picture his worried face... he's too pretty to look upset its why you can't look at him. "Why not?"
"I'm so hideous master! Why do you let me look at you!" You finally start to sob. The bed moves as you try to hide your face more but he calls you his little doll for a reason. He pulls your gloves off delicately... your flesh trembling under his touch as he rubs your left hand. You slap his perfect chest and try to get out of his grip. The blessed and damned mask on your face makes getting oxygen in for your temper tantrum hard. Your robes are the next thing to go.
His hands move over your left side no mater how hard you try to slap his hands away as you shriek at him to stop. You sob as he moans and kisses your ruined flesh. His long forked dark purple tongue works its way into the spider web patterning of your burned flesh. You can feel his hard cock against you and being the brat that you feel like right now you kick it hard.
He moans in rapturous delight as the heel of your foot dug into the sensitive flesh. "My beloved muse... let me see your face!" He moans as you just sob and cover your eyes not being able to handle the way he looks at you. You cry more as he crawls over you, rutting against you, "Mmmm feel what you do to me. Let me see your face my muse! I know you've locked away your beauty... I am but a groveling mortal unable to handle basking in your grace all the time... but please let me just gaze upon your beauty. Let my muse grace me with her smile... let her grace me with her beauty!" He sings to you as you sniffle under him.
When you gently press against his chest he moves back watching with such reverence as you sit up and just gently touch your mask. "I can't... I'm so hideous." You sob out.
"Then let me take it off of you my goddess. " He all but moans out as you sit there and nod. The manic reverent look in his eyes makes you squirm as he pulls the mask away. The entire left side of your face... acid and flames burnt your skin... most of your left arm... your left breast... lucky for you your leg was spared but you have been burnt. Your left eyelid droops slightly as you look at the perfect angel... you run a hand over the bald spots on the left half of your scalp and the sad patches of hair that try to grow through the ruined skin.
You avert your gaze feeling embarrassed at the way he goes to touch himself... lewdly moaning as he pleasures himself to you simply sitting there. It doesn't take too long before you feel warmth spray against your skin as he paints patches of your skin white. "Stop... please stop." You sob.
"Why?"
"I'm hideous."
"If you think that... " He says pushing you onto your back as he looms over you and his eyes glow a purplish-pink from this angle. "It means I haven't worshiped you enough recently. Oh my poor little muse no wonder you weren't having fun at the party or trying to distract me. I can tell you're feeling self conscious. Let me worship you. Not anyone gets my cum little muse. And I have so much to give you. So... will you let me worship you?"
You feel your breath shutter at the intensity of his gaze just like the first time you two met... you whimper softly, "Yes." You say and wrap your arms around his neck as he greedily goes for a kiss... and the hours- no days blend together as he worships you.
#tw: yandere#tw: nudity#tw: body horror#tw: body insecurity#tw: dubious consent#tw: Slannesh#emperor's children#Yandere#Yandere Space Marine#Yandere Emperor's Children#warhammer 40k
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in which you try to shake off your insecurities and plan a surprise picnic for your loving boyfriend; he reminds you just how amazing he thinks you are, his love silencing the mean voice inside your head (penpal!harry, photographer!harry, chubby!y/n, lhh)
A wish come true- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings
Through the viewfinder / alternatively, read on wattpad
Greedy bunny (word count: 4k)
It was a nice day out, and you decided to surprise your boyfriend with an impromptu picnic. You knew he had a short day at work, what with it being Friday and all, and so you packed your little basket along with a blanket and everything you needed and took a cab to his company’s studio.
You were going to drive to the picnic spot in his car (you didn’t have one and was frankly scared of the prospect of driving, so you didn’t even want one), since it was a remote place the two of you had accidentally found while you wandered off in a national park one day while on your bicycles. You’d spotted that cute little clearing in the forest and you both agreed that would make a perfect spot for a picnic one day.
You knew Harry would admonish you for carrying all the stuff to his work instead of having him come to pick you up from home directly, but that would’ve ruined the surprise factor. And you loved surprising him. You loved seeing his eyes sparkle with joy. Harry was such an expressive man, you never tired of watching him. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He never held back.
The basket was indeed quite heavy, but you were sure to pack everything Harry liked. Despite his appearance, he had quite the appetite. He was just naturally fit, his fast metabolism seemed to burn all those calories as though they were nothing, and he did work out a lot as well, but he didn’t overdo it. You loved the bit of pudge he’d put on his lovehandles sometimes. Made him look adorable.
You, on the other hand… well, you weren’t so lucky. You were always very careful with what you ate, counted your calories, went spinning, even did some yoga- but you were just always on the curvier side. A bit chubby, is how you’d have best described yourself. No matter how well you tried to balance your diet and exercise, you still could not slim down enough to fit your ideal standard. Maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for you.
Harry, however, loved your body, and he didn’t shy away from letting you know just how much. It had taken you by surprise. He could’ve had anyone he wanted; personality aside- he looked amazing, and could have had his pick at anyone. You’d not have expected him to be attracted to you. Guys like him normally went for similar body types- models, dancers, fitness enthusiasts, etc. But he’d somehow settled for you, and you could never wrap your head around why that was.
At first you thought maybe he was just drawn to you because of your bond from all those years back. Finding eachother after a decade since you’d been penpals in school without having met had been such an amazing experience! At first you thought to yourself, he was just being nice. Then, you thought he was just experimenting maybe, and that surely once he got to see you naked he’d run for the hills.
It’d taken you a long while to fully open up to him, partially because of your insecurities, and partially because of your lousy experience with your ex who had treated you badly. You didn’t want to lose Harry, you’d grown very attached to him in the 2 months you’d been dating, and you were scared to blow it all off once you’d finally have sex.
But then you took the plunge and it’d left you completely speechless. Not only had it solidified your relationship, bringing you impossibly closer, but he’d not ran for the hills- on the contrary. He seemed to be quite literally obsessed with your body ever since.
It’d been another 3 months since you first slept together and Harry was insatiable. He couldn’t get enough of you. He made you feel incredible- so wanted and cherished, and most of all- loved. You’d shared your feelings for eachother on that same night those 3 months back and he proved to you every day since just how much he meant them.
It’d been a major confidence boost. Harry knew everything about you, seen every square inch of you, and never once did he make you feel insecure about your body when you were in his arms. When you were by yourself, however, you still slipped into your old mindset, was still mean to yourself and disliked certain aspects of your appearance, but when he was around, that voice inside your head was silenced and was replaced by all the words of praise Harry would shower you with.
He had no reason to lie to you. He had no reason to stick around. And the way he was physically responding to you proved without a shadow of a doubt just how attracted to you he truly was.
You’d been shy at first, but under his constant praise and encouragement you’d let go of any inhibitions with him in the bedroom. You truly felt beautiful and sexy and acted accordingly, because you believed it when you were with him.
When you were alone, though… that was a different story.
You didn’t know if Harry knew about your insecurities. You’d never discussed them with him. You’ve had friends laugh at you when you’d shared them with them, telling you it was all in your head. Telling you you were way too harsh on yourself. And you knew, in theory, that they were right. You were not overweight by any medical standard, you were healthy, and active, and you did try and eat as clean as you could, you just… weren’t the way you were brainwashed to think you had to look to be beautiful. The way all the magazines, movies, tv shows portrayed how a young woman should look. You weren’t a model by a long shot. And you were starting to recognize that it was alright. Every body type was beautiful. Every shape and size. People had different tastes in partners for a reason. If everyone looked the same then it would’ve been incredibly boring.
You’d planned this picnic for a while, and had had a particular summer dress in mind for it all along. Yet, when you put it on that morning you felt as though it was hugging you in all the wrong places. You’d worn it before, but this time you just weren’t feeling like you looked that good in it. You were having one of those days where you were just bloated for no reason, and nothing fit right. You weren’t about to call the whole thing off just because of that, though. So you told yourself you were being unnecessarily harsh on yourself, and finished getting everything ready for the picnic.
You’d baked a cheesecake and packed some fresh homemade mint lemonade in cute glass containers, and as for savory goodies you’d made some caprese sandwiches with pesto sauce, as well as some pineapple salsa and guacamole dips to go with some store-bought tortilla chips and french baguette. Harry loved all of these and would probably scarf most of it down, and you were happy to have a taste of anything which would already go well beyond your daily calorie intake. Watching him eat with such joyous abandon would be the biggest treat, though. You were glad you could make him happy with your cooking, he particularly enjoyed anything you made with your own two hands as a labor of love for him. It was a rare treat, since you tried to avoid temptations and rarely cooked goodies. So you knew he would be a happy boy today.
All those goodies however made for a heavy basket. You’d initially planned on riding your bike to his studio, but you couldn’t secure it in a way that wouldn’t tilt you over. Not to mention you had to bring the blanket along too. So, cab it was.
Feeling a bit silly to be hauling the basket and blanket into the elevator, you also didn’t trust to leave the goodies with the security guy in the lobby. The last thing you needed was for someone to sample the goods before your boyfriend did the honors.
When you reached the 17th floor, you were immediately thrown into Harry’s everyday life as a photographer for his company. You’d been to some of their other locations they used for shootings before, but never the main studio. It was loud, music was blasting as though you’d just entered a nightclub, and the lights were pretty dim too. Lots of people roaming around but your eyes inadvertently went to the big canvas that was set up in the middle, with two models posing center stage. Fans were positioned around them to blow their hair away from their faces, and to create flow within the fabric they wore. Which was- incidentally- very scarce.
They were probably doing an advert for swimsuits, because that’s what they were wearing, one of the models also had a chiffon wrap around her waist but it was definitely see-through.
The bikinis might as well have been see-through. They were practically naked with how little the bathing suits were covering.
Legs that went on for miles, shimmery, golden, perfectly unblemished skin, amazing bone structure, just the right amount of curves, plump lips, impeccable hair and makeup… these girls were drop dead gorgeous.
Models.
Nothing you hadn’t seen before all your life, yet, seeing it unfold up close, and the behind the scenes was captivating. Nobody actually looks like that - is what you kept hearing. Airbrushed photos, photoshop, filters, etc. Then how come you were looking at them and there they were- looking absolutely flawless from head to toe? Was that just something normal people told themselves to feel better?
But something snapped you out of your train of thought- and that was none other than your boyfriend’s voice. He was chewing gum, you could hear it in his voice, that air of nonchalance it gave it- and was behind the camera that was set on a tripod, conducting that photoshoot. Telling the models how to pose, where to move their limbs, how to tilt their heads.
“Perfect! Great, more of that!... Beautiful! Now look straight ahead- both of you. Gorgeous.”
You felt a pang of jealousy you never knew was humanly possible.
You knew this was Harry’s job- knew it all along. Knew he was hired by his company to conduct all sorts of photoshoots. Some even more risqué than this one for sure. He’d done nude sessions as well, he’d told you as much. It was his job. And you thought you’d been ok with the idea of it. You’d imagined all those instances in your mind’s eye and you knew he was being professional and was just doing a job, at the end of the day.
But it was an entirely different thing seeing it unfold before your very eyes. Somehow, even though this was exactly how you’d been imagining it, give or take a few details, it made you feel ridiculous for ever believing you could be good enough for him.
He was exposed to these perfect people, up close, day in, day out, and somehow you were meant to believe he would choose someone like you to be attracted to?! When he very clearly belonged to this world instead. The world of flawless, insanely attractive people. Whereas you… were average, at best.
“Did anyone order takeaway?”
You were once again snapped back to reality, but by a different voice this time, one of a person by your side, wearing earpods and eyeing your basket curiously.
“Oh, no, I’m just here for my– for Harry.”
“Harry…? Oh, Styles?”
“Yeah?” your boyfriend shouted from behind the lense, without averting his attention from his task at hand.
“There’s someone here for you. Little red riding hood.”
You blushed furiously at the person’s little quip at your attire. It wasn’t even red.
Harry pulled back from the camera and his eyes immediately landed on you. No doubt you stuck out like a sore thumb.
He hopped off of his little barstool and sprinted towards you “That makes me the big, bad wolf then!” he grinned, taking you into his arms and kissing you without hesitance. “Fuck, bunny, what a pleasant surprise, eh? Is that for me?” he gestured toward the basket and picked it up from next to you “Owh, what’d you pack in there!? What’s all this, then?”
You didn’t even get to wiggle a word in, he was already going through the basket, his eyes widening and his grin spreading all across his handsome face “Fuck me. How am I supposed to finish this shoot? I wanna dive right in!”
“Well, you can’t.” you pulled the basket away earning a whine of protest from him which made you smile “We’re going for a picnic just as soon as you wrap up, though.”
His eyes lit up, just like you’d imagined they would when you were getting everything ready “We are?” you barely got to nod when he bent and kissed you, again and again making you giggle and almost drop the basket on the floor.
“Yes! Now behave. Go do your thing and I’ll wait.”
He fished his phone out of his pocket and then looked around for a second “Nah. It’s like 10 minutes to go, anyway. I think we got all we needed.” he then resumed his tone from earlier, shouting so everyone heard “That’s a wrap up, everyone. Good job. We’ll get in touch.”
“Oh– okay? I could’ve waited, though?”
“Nonsense” he put his arm around your shoulders and after nodding his goodbyes to a few people around, he guided you back to the elevator, making sure to take the basket back away from you.
*
The ride to the national park was nice, Harry had told you about an upcoming project he’d been assigned the following week, and he seemed really excited to get started on it on Monday. You tried to listen, but all you could think about was the seemingly parallel universe Harry was living in when he wasn’t with you. You couldn’t get that whole atmosphere from inside there out of your head. He kept his hand on your knee, squeezing it from time to time, no doubt to make sure you were paying attention.
You made your way to that clearing you’d stumbled upon a while back, happy to have found it just as nice as the first time around “Ah, this is perfect for a picnic, lovey. I’m so glad we’re doing this. Perfect way to end the week.”
You placed the blanket in a perfect spot and then sat down, with Harry not wasting a moment longer before unpacking the basket. He looked like he was unwrapping Christmas gifts, making excited noises for every little thing he fished out of there “You made all these yourself, bunny?”
“Well, except for the tortilla chips and the baguette.”
He groaned enthusiastically, leaning over “Kissy?” you smiled and pecked his lips “You’re amazing. I’m starving. Do you mind if we dig in?”
You giggled at how truly impatient he seemed “Have at it baby, it’s all for you.”
He kissed you once more, more like an audible wet smooch before going right for the sandwiches first. You handed him his glass bottle of mint lemonade and explained how you didn’t wanna bring any plastic single use cutlery. You could just take turns eating everything right out of the tupperware you’d packed them in and drink straight out of the bottles. It was finger food anyway.
“No baby, I can’t have any more, you finish them” you pushed the cookies back towards him, the same way you’d done with all of the things you’d packed. He kept trying to go 50/50 but there was no way you could eat as much as him. You were so full you felt you could pop.
“But you barely touched them! Come on, lovey. For me?”
You laughed, pushing his hand away that was making its way toward you with a chocolate chip cookie in tow “Nuh-huh babe. I’m full, seriously. I’m about to burst out of this dress as it is.”
He lowered his eyes toward your cleavage and hummed appreciatively “Hmm. I’ve noticed. You won’t hear me complaining.”
“I meant my belly, you perv.”
He leaned over and placed his head in your lap, snuggling into your body. You wasted no time and began playing with his long hair “I love your soft tummy. If I weren’t scared I’d crush you I’d sleep like this all the time. Plus it gives me easy access to other goodies” he snaked his hand under your dress’ hem and you gasped, slapping his hand away.
“Bad boy!”
“I know… I’m real bad.” he caught your hand and redirected it to his crotch, pressing your palm firmly against his very evident hard-on, making you gasp even louder “Yeah? Can’t help it when my sweet girl looks so fucking good. Good enough to eat. You’re my dessert.” he resumed his ascent underneath your dress till he reached your crotch. You had your legs pressed together, and he lifted his head up from your lap a bit to push them apart slightly, enough to grant him access before resting it over your thighs again.
“You… already had dessert.” you were already a bit breathless in anticipation.
“I love your baking, bunny, I really do. But this is what I’m really craving. Gonna be a good girl and let me have a taste?”
You watched him from underneath heavy lids, his eyes were hooded and his pupils had dilated considerably. He finally snaked his middle finger between your legs, hooking your panties and pulling them to the side, then pressed it right between your folds before pushing it inside you ever so slowly. His mouth fell agape watching you whimper at his gentle intrusion, and you nodded your head, granting him permission.
He groaned, pulling away from your lap and going in for a kiss, without removing his finger from inside you. When he pushed his tongue into your mouth he added another finger inside as well, placing his thumb over your clit too.
You moaned loudly and he smiled against your lips “There’s my dirty girl. Here we are in broad daylight, anyone could hear you or walk by and see you let me do these things to you. And you love it, don’t you bunny?”
You nodded, looking at how fucked out of his mind he looked. You couldn’t remember anything from moments earlier about feeling insecure in your body. The way he was looking at you and touching you made you feel amazing in your skin.
“Then lie back for me and let me eat that pretty pussy, hm?”
You did as instructed and he took off your flimsy panties, pushing your dress up and leaning in for another kiss while he searched for your g-spot again. He knew your body like the palm of his hands, so when you started mewling again he began kissing down your neck “That’s it. Wanna hear you, pretty girl. Show me how much you love it.”
He brought his other hand to the front of your dress and undid the bow at your cleavage, loosening up the fabric there, and then pulled one of the straps over your shoulder and groaned when your boob spilled out to the side. He caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking greedily and speeding up his fingers inside you. You could only hear birds chirping, some insects buzzing and the squelching sounds he was making plunging in and out of your soaked pussy.
“Harry!”
“I know, bunny. Come on my fingers so I can clean you up, lap you up till you spill again on my tongue. Come on. Give it to me.”
“Fuck, fuck!” your thighs shook violently, pushing his hand away.
“That’s a good girl! My best girl.” he pushed his soaked fingers into your mouth “Greedy bunny!” he chuckled teasingly when you sucked his fingers into your mouth clean “I was just giving you a taste, it’s all for me. This, I’m not sharing.”
He didn’t waste a second longer plunging his face between your sticky thighs “Fuck lovey, you made a mess! Mmmm” he hummed, sucking your clit into his wet mouth “Best fucking pussy.” he squeezed the back of your thighs, pressing his rings into your flesh. You were sure they were gonna leave indents. You loved when he did that, loved seeing the aftermath of your lovemaking.
And his mind seemingly went to the same visual “Gonna look at those marks on those beautiful thighs when I fuck into you from behind as soon as we get back to yours. Can’t fucking wait.”
“I can’t wait that long!” you whined.
He pushed your knees to your chest and slapped your ass before dipping his tongue inside you, making you cry out “Yes you will. Little tease, came into my work looking like that, made me drive all the way up here hard as a rock. Could barely enjoy what you prepped for us, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on your gorgeous body.”
“Harry!’
“Shush, bunny.” he slapped your ass again “Gimme another one and then we’ll go back to yours and I’ll teach you not to tease me like that again. But not here. Cause I can’t promise I’d be able to stop if someone really did walk in on us.
“Oh God…”
“Look at you gushing at the thought of that… dirty girl… you like that idea, don’t you?” he kept alternating between licking and rubbing at your clit with his thumb lazily “Like to show people what you do to me. Like to claim what’s yours. Is that why you came into the studio today, wearing this flimsy little thing? Wanna make sure everyone gets the memo, that I’m taken? Could hardly keep my hands off of you in front of everybody.”
“Fuck, baby…”
“Yeah? You know I’m right. And I love it. I love you. That’s it, you’re close again. Lemme have it, lovey, I need to get us home and bury myself inside you… Need you so bad” he pressed himself into the blanket, trying to ease the ache at least a tiny bit, moaning against you as he did so and that’s what sent you over the edge. He coaxed every little spasm out of you, and after kissing you thoroughly, he began putting everything away back inside the basket as you came down from your high.
You used a napkin to clean up a bit, then Harry helped you up and slapped your ass through the dress “Come on pretty. We got some traffic to beat. Sure wish you had a license right about now, I can barely walk let alone press pedals.”
You felt bad for Harry for having to drive with blue balls all the way back home. But he did bring it on himself, as much as he liked blaming it all on you and your apparently provocative getup. And to think you felt unattractive putting it on earlier in the day. You were now glowing. Radiating confidence in your own skin. You felt good, desired, appreciated. Harry truly made you feel like you were… beautiful.
You were back on the road and knowing there was a long stretch before you got off the highway, you leaned over the center console, palming his crotch and finding him just as hard as before.
Harry whined “Bunny, stop it, yeah? Gonna get us killed.”
“Just keep your eyes on the road” you whispered into his ear before kissing down his neck and pulled him out of his skinny jeans, with quite a bit of effort since they were virtually glued to him especially in this state.
“Fuck!!”
“Mhm. I know baby… God, you’re ready to burst. Tell me when you’re close so we don’t make a mess, hm? Gonna swallow it all. Just like the greedy bunny I am.”
A/N: i missed this verse SO much! they're just so special to me! hope you enjoyed their silly love and hope you always remember to be kind to yourselves! ❤️
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#tw: body insecurity#harry styles smut#harrys styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#lhh#long hair harry#penpal!harry#penpal harry styles#photographer!harry#photographer harry styles#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles concept#harry styles prompt#harry styles imagine#harry styles x yn#lhhconceptnight#a wish come true#masterlist#fkinavocado
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i know it like… wasn’t the key takeaway from the movie or anything, but i am even more in love with Florence Pugh than i was before. if that was somehow even possible.
#tw: body talk#tw: body image#tw: body insecurity#like just so refreshing to see a beautiful woman allowed to have a soft body#and to not have to be a rail with a six pack to be seen as ‘sexy’#her softness makes me feel soft things#and also helps me take one more step toward loving my soft body#text#mare speaks#mare rambles#florence pugh#oppenheimer
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"I don't like myself, you know..."
Lestat Birthday Bingo ~ Square 6: "I Don't Like Myself, You Know..."
I wanted to show Lestat's insecurities with thinking himself to be evil despite deserately wanting to be good to insecurities about his body, and worrying that his skin is too pale and hard, as well as his issues with abandonment and hating the idea of being left alone.
He thinks of himself as an evil monster, which, yeah he's done some pretty awful things, but I wouldn't say that makes him 'evil' or a 'monster'. Lestat can be good, he is good and even in all the bad, he's also done some good things.
Lestat's insecurities over his physical image, especially at the end of QOTD when he's with Louis. He worries that he might hurt Louis, or that he'll even be put off by him now that his skin is so much harder and whiter, almost like stone.
When he forces Louis to stay with him in IWTV because the idea of being abandoned again is quite frankly terrifying to him. The thought that Louis will leave him like Nicki (in a way) and Gabrielle did results in Lestat keeping Louis in an iron grip, which ultimately does more harm than good. He held on to tight.
It's also how Lestat comes across as vain which, again, he can be. But at the end of the day, it's also just a front to hide behind, because he thinks the only reason anyone could possibly like him, is for his looks and not for him.
Idk, I could go on really but I get too sad thinking about it for too long. I don't like thinking too much of Lestat being anything but his generally happy-go-lucky-self or else I'll start bawling, but this is also an important part of his character, so here we are.
@vampirefest
#vflestatbirthdaybingo#vampirefest#“i don't like myself you know...”#tw: body insecurity#tw: body image#tw: abandonment#lestat de lioncourt#vampire chronicles#tvc#love you lestat ❤️#my vampire chronicles
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Personal stuff under the cut
TW body image issues
TLDR: Someone asked if I was pregnant today - I'm not, I just carry my weight in my midsection. This is the spiral that ensued.
Soooo today was fun. Aside from it being kind of a crazy day at work (seriously how is it only Tuesday?!), I had a bit of a rough encounter that has stayed with me all day. Normally, I wouldn't share something like this so openly. I may end up deleting this, but writing has helped me process things before so why not do it with this, right?
Earlier today I was talking with someone at work. It was our first time meeting in person. We were making small talk before heading into our meeting and as we walked to the room she turned to me and motioned to my stomach with a smile and mouthed, "Oh my gosh, are you pregnant?" I quickly shook my head and I could tell she instantly felt terrible. I don't have any ill will towards this person, I know she didn't mean any harm by it, but it's just annoying that people feel it is ok to comment on another person's body.
This isn't the first time this has happened to me in my life and usually, my first reaction is to try and not make the other person feel bad or awkward (although there have been a few times I've clapped back). But, on the whole, I'm not one for confrontation and want to just move past it and not acknowledge it, which is what I did here. I switched the subject and she didn't say anything else about it.
This particular encounter has really stung. I've struggled with my weight my whole life and have only recently started to process how images and media from early on in my life really affected me. Like I remember being in middle school drinking Slim Fast or being in high school and substituting two meals a day for some Special K cereal.... seriously what the fuck?!
While I always struggled, I still managed to work out. When I moved to Florida I took up running and actually got pretty fit (for me). I felt strong and loved being active. It was a fun activity my husband and I would do together.
Then I got pregnant. I stayed really active during my pregnancy, heck, I was walking around Disney at eight months pregnant! I had to have an unexpected C-section which really threw my body for a loop (on top of being given a newborn and trying to figure out breastfeeding).
Anyways, it's been two years and the last two years have been hard. I've struggled on and off with some postpartum blues and just general anxiety which leaves me feeling really overwhelmed a lot of times and my physical health has taken a back seat. As a result, I have put on some weight (which adds stress, it's a never-ending cycle).
I know I'm rambling but the comment today really hit home because I know I've gained weight, I know my clothes don't fit the same (or at all), and that makes me sad. Not because I want to conform to someone else's expectations or vision. It's because I know I feel better when I'm active and I miss it.
My immediate reaction today was to do something on both ends of the spectrum related to pretty negative eating-related behavior. (Which I didn't do). I mostly just wanted to leave work and go cry in my car. In the past, comments like this have spurned me on to try and lose weight or eat healthier, but today it left me feeling really defeated.
Again, I'm not sure where I'm going with this so if you've made it this far...thanks. At the end of the day, I just want to be a healthy role model for my daughter. I've modeled some pretty unhealthy behaviors and negative self-talk thanks to my mom and family (is it just a Hispanic thing for people to constantly tell you you've gained weight when they see you?). I don't want to pass that along to her and I'm thankful there is much more body positivity now.
Thanks for letting me vent. This was a bit therapeutic. And thank you to those who helped put a smile on my face today, it was greatly needed.
XOXO
J
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"Red lipstick is for whores, Arthur."
Alright, so I've had a sketch of this for months but now I've finally got around to finishing it! I've been psyching myself out way too much about the quality of what I post, but I can say I'm proud of this.
John's appearance is something he's more conscious of than he wants to be, given his mother's treatment (among others) throughout his life. For more context, you can read this post: And no, his mother isn't dead, but she certainly haunts him.
That said, it's better now that he doesn't live with her, nor is he in Arkham, but there would still be times when that anxiety of his identity and appearance would surface, and he'd be a mess all day.
Also just some less important things about this piece, but ones I wanted to ramble out for those interested;
John's hand looks so nice because I had Fluffy model this pose for me (Thank you so much <3)
The flower in John's pocket is an orange daisy. Floriography is something I've always found fascinating and try to include in my art whenever flowers are present. Daisies usually represent new beginnings, cheerfulness, and innocence, among some others. Orange specifically represents happiness, which is something John strives for with being himself openly.
That also explains why the new beginnings and innocence aspect come into play, as John is someone whose innocence was very quickly squashed from how people treat him, but now he's not living by their rules, he's living his own.
Red lipstick is John's favorite because of it's classic and bold appearance. However, his mother very much demonized the color as she saw it as "whore-ish". She only ever wore pinks and sometimes neutrals, and because of this, the color pink is associated with his mother and John will not touch it, nor will he wear it in clothing or makeup.
He wears reds not only because it makes him the most happy, but to spite the memory of his mother's words.
• John was originally supposed to have a kiss mark on the cheek opposite his mother, but I removed it since I felt the context wasn't fitting. It would have represented his attraction to men as well as being in a relationship with Bruce, but Bruce isn't a man who wears makeup himself, and this piece was meant to focus more on John's appearance and views on gender than his sexuality, although if I had kept it, it would still work, there would just be another layer of anti-queerness.
-Sarsee
#batmanfruitloops#anewgothamau#dc#batman#dc fanart#batman fanart#the joker#dc joker#john doe#tw: body dysmorphia#tw: body insecurity#tw: abuse#tw: potentially gender dysphoria? I'm not sure if this counts#sars babbles#tw: homophobia#tw: dead naming
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STATLER IS SELF-CONSCIOUS AB THEIR BODY??? i will kiss every single insecurity they think they have
That's so sweet I'm—😭😭😭💕
Yeah Statler is a bit insecure. They really miss their old very athletic cheerleader/jock body but barely have any time to exercise.
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Thank you for this blog, your answers are so well thought-out and insightful it's a pleasure to read. Here's something I've been pondering lately: Karniss with a Tav who also has some serious body image trauma, maybe due to being a race that's not very well liked, like tiefling or something.
Thank you for the compliment!
I thought this over for the past day and admittedly I was a bit nervous about giving an opinion on the statement. Not because it isn't a good head canon or idea, but because I know the topic of body image is a sensitive one and I don't wish to breed animosity. As someone who had body image troubles in their youth I know the struggle and it's a difficult part of yourself to come to terms with. Especially in an era where we're bombarded by unrealistic expectations on every media platform available. So I want to preface this response with a bit of a disclaimer. While I have thoughts on this head canon, it is not indicative of fact. It's not meant to represent everyone's personal struggles with body image nor is it all encompassing. Everyone is different and this is strictly a personal opinion.
With that said, I do like the idea you've pitched here. My thoughts are that while both struggling with their appearance in some manner would help them relate, it may also prove a hinderance in terms of moving forward. What I mean by this is there is a chance they could feed off of each other's insecurities. It can be difficult to try and lift someone else when you feel so very down about yourself, at least in my experience. That lack of confidence creates a wall and if both parties have those walls, one can't hear the other.
As an example, if Tav tries to tell Kar'niss he is beautiful and Kar'niss denies it vehemently refusing to hear it, then if Kar'niss says the same to Tav in return then they may very well deny it as well. It's difficult to get a foothold when both parties have such a great deal of self-loathing.
But!
This does not mean all is lost. I've always believed that light can pierce even the darkest corner and the same is true here. Over time perhaps either Kar'niss or Tav have a moment of clarity, a realization. Tav might see Kar'niss chiding or belittling himself and come to understand that this is what they've been doing to themselves all this time. It may have taken a while to see it but once they do their mindset begins to alter.
It's not a smooth climb to the peak of Mt. Confidence, in fact it's a long and rocky road. Yet Tav has found new motivation, a reason to fight the intrusive thoughts rather than allow them to emerge victorious. Now when Kar'niss compliments them they resist the urge to deny it and instead accept it with a humble thanks. I know that is a hard lesson I had to learn over the years and I've become far better at it. It's not arrogant to accept positive feedback or to even feel proud, it's something more people should do.
With Tav starting to accept themselves more then Kar'niss may follow suit, especially if the pair have grown close and formed trust. Suddenly that negative feedback loop morphs into a positive one and steadily both learn to love themselves for who they are rather than what others want them to be. This is, of course, a loose summary and they'd still have bad days along the way. Personal progression isn't a straight line, it's full of peaks and valleys. Two people that have been through such strife will travel that winding road often. Still, I think it is very possible for Kar'niss and Tav to find a happy medium, one they can live with. Sometimes it's the best you can do, and that's okay.
Thanks for the ask!
#baldur's gate 3#kar'niss#bg3#drider#karniss#baldurs gate 3#answered#tw: body insecurity#tw: body image#tw: body dysmorphia
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*looks at herself in the mirror, checking her body with sad look on her face*.
Mae, someone said to me that I'm to flat and thin for a woman my age and.....*tears start falling down from her eyes*.
and they said that you will grow bored of me someday and find another woman.
do you hate how my body look?, I won't judge you if you do cause I myself hate how my body looks.
“And despite all they say to you, have I not been faithful all these years? Have I not gone out of my way to ensure that you always look resplendent? Have I not loved every fibre of your body and soul? So why doubt my love to listen to another who speaks of jealousy?” His voice is stern, yet tender as he cupped your face in his calloused hand. “If you do not allow my insecurities to get to me, then I cannot allow the same for you. There isn't anything wrong with your body. I love it!”
#♡{sweet.hugs} ~ {maedhros}#maedhros imagine#maedhros x you#maedhros x y/n#nelyafinwë#nelyafinwe maitimo#house of feanor#tw: body insecurity#silm imagines#middle earth imagine
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Look At Me Beautiful
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort.
Character: Vil.
Warnings: Body dysphoria and body dysmorphia, eating disorders, mentions of scars, reader is in the feels, reader has self-esteem issues.
Summary: Vil is here for you to lean on, for you to rely on. He wants to help you like you did him.
Additional Notes: I was looking forward to eating some jacket potatoes but I then felt sad, and when I was going to eat the jackets, I felt disgusted and too sad to eat them. My meal was ruined so I say we hurt today. This is also yet another of my projections and how I experience stuff like this. And remember to be kind guys, any and all negative comments will be deleted and blocked.
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You don't like what you see. It's meant to be you but all you can see is an ugly monster. You hate how you look, you hate how you sound, you hate how your skin feels, you hate how your scars feel. You hate it so much.
You can't eat three meals a day without feeling repulsed by yourself, you can down two if your lucky, yet no matter how little you eat you just can't stop feeling so slimy and gross and chubby-
"Dear are you in there?" That was Vils voice. You don't want to answer him, feeling as if you'd taint his beauty by your hideousness. You don't deserve someone so perfect like him, someone so caring like him, someone so-
"Are you alright?" Vils voice was soft, as was his hand that was resting on your shoulder. You could barely look at him.
”Please look at me beautiful..” He said so tenderly, so full of love and adoration. It made your heart ache as you hesitantly raised your head. When your eyes met you saw how he softened, how he slowly reached out to cup your your face in his hands, how gentle he was being with you. You didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve him.
He stared into your eyes as he gently wiped away the tears you didn’t know fell from your face with his thumbs. He smiled so softly at you, for you.
”Do you want to talk about it or would you like to stay here for a while?” He softly asked, still staring with so much adoration, so much love, so much care. He still loved you even though you didn’t deserve his presence, even though you sounded horrible, even though you were a hideous creature, he still loved you. That realisation broke the dam as you cried into his chest, him gently raking a hand through your hair and a hand rubbing your back soothingly.
”It’s okay, I’m here.”
You two stayed like that for a while, embracing each other as you cried your heart out on the bathroom floor. Vil didn’t care that you wet his shirt, but he did he care about you. When you two finally parted, you tried to apologise but Vil held a hand up before smiling at you.
You didn’t deserve him but you felt oh so loved by him that you were slowly but surely staring to feel that maybe you did.
#twisted wonderland#reader insert#vil schoenheit#angst#hurt/comfort#just a lot of sadness#I am not good at writing angst or hurt/comfort…#cw: body dysphoria#cw: eating disorders#cw: mentions of scars#tw: body insecurity#tw: body dysmorphia#forgot to add in the warning tags I apologise for that#brrr’s writing
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Nothing hurts me worse than knowing I did not get The Good Genes (tm) and will never know the euphoria of being a pretty girl who looks like a princess. I'll always just look like a gnome someone slopped into a meat suit and added boobs on it.
Looking at my own body gives me so much anger and self-hatred.
Creator of the Universe crafted some people so exquisitely and perfectly and with me? Its hand got a cramp.
Do I even qualify as a girl?
I don't.
#🔪 slayer says 🔪#tw: self loathing#tw: body dysmorphia#tw: body insecurity#tw: gender dysphoria#i dont even look like a girl#i dont even produce estrogen like a girl#im broken in some genetically intrinsic way#actually mentally ill
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healing body image is like. crying until unable to breathe. drinking water after crying. genuinely being grateful for the human body and all that it is capable of. hating it hating it hating it for not being pretty enough. consuming body neutrality media but being unable to watch any tv show or movie without spiralling. presenting a neutral self-respecting image feeling like a fraud. trying to be the strength and vulnerability your younger self needed. wishing to be somebody else, somebody prettier because even now, pretty = loveable. getting reacquainted with the person in the mirror. learning that how worthy and loveable you are is not dependent on anything external (feeling like it’s a lie). taking deep belly breaths and stopping thought spirals. becoming aware of biases and thought patterns. redefining what beauty means to you. sitting with the discomfort pain anxiety disgust and repeating “i accept myself, i am human and deserving of compassion/love/respect like everyone else”. that deep sadness when you realise you truly will never become conventionally attractive and the path forward lies in acceptance. but slowly, you start to see that path. slowly, you learn to be kind to yourself. this body that is given to you, no matter how it doesn’t measure up, no matter what it’s capable or not capable of doing, is still keeping you alive.
#body neutrality#self acceptance#healing#body image#tw: body negativity#tw: body insecurity#tw: body dysmorphia#self love#self affirmation#self worth#inner work#eating disorder recovery
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As an ambassador for the thick thigh club, I felt this one in my soul. So to my Karamatsu babes with stretchmarks - this one’s for y’all. Will be tagging this as tw: body image & tw: body insecurity just in case! Under the cut!
It had hit you just after you got out of the shower this morning, a small deep red stripe that shone bright against the curve of your inner thighs. Your fingertips traced it in worry, the flesh feeling soft and wrinkled under the pads of your fingers.
It felt ugly.
You spent the rest of your day absentmindedly tracing over the mark through your clothing, it’s mere existence disturbing your peace. It made you hate the way you looked at your body, jagged with these same physical cracks littered all over you. The feeling of being broken with all the scattered lines - unlovable because soft, unmarred skin was now stricken through permanently. You had to force your thoughts away from it until you made it home, all of your emotions beginning to well into your throat unwillingly.
--
Your day came and went, thankfully, and soon you were in the comfort of your own home. Your heart was heavy as you stared at your reflection once more in only your top and underwear, planning simply just to change out of your work clothes. Tears blurred your vision, and you let out a frustrated sigh at the streaks that splayed over your body. Amidst your sniffling, your boyfriend stood at the doorway to your bedroom, his quiet entrance going unnoticed as he watched you scrutinize yourself with such heart aching disdain. With a softened look, he called your name from where he stood. Your gasp was sharp and you moved to blot at your eyes almost immediately.
“Karamatsu, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you, I--” “...I love them, you know.”
Your heart caught in your throat, “I...I’m sorry?”
He moved closer to you, his eyes slowly drifting from your thighs and all the way upwards until he met on your dampened eyes, “I love them...those marks you seem to hate so much.”
You broke eye contact to stare off ashamedly, “You saw me, huh?” the sigh that left was heady, you both felt it; in embarrassment, you turned away from him, “I just...they look so awful. Like I’ve been wounded or like...I don’t take care of myself, I don’t know.”
Frustration clawed at your throat once more, “They make me feel ugly.”
Hands gently smoothed over your shoulders, “...Lay down, my love.”
You shifted back towards him, “Why? I need to finish changing first.”
“You can later, I promise...right now, I just want you to lay down on the bed, okay?” Karamatsu coerced you carefully, walking you over to the bed now. Confusedly you did as you were asked, the majority of your body laying across the sheets save for your legs that dangled over the edge of the mattress. Little did you expect for your boyfriend to slide himself between your thighs, the bulk of his shoulders lifting up the backs of your thighs as he did.
“Karamatsu!” came your surprised yelp, “I haven’t showered yet, I need to-”
“Hush, my love,” he cut you off once more, and your words fell from your lips. Dark brown irises found your slightly panicked stare, “I want you to understand something...” and his gaze shifted to the soft expanse of your thighs, “These marks...make you more beautiful than you could ever comprehend.”
His lips pressed to a spot just past where your knee and inner thigh connected. You bit your lip as you watched him kiss a few more spots on your thighs, interchanging between the two mounds of flesh. The gentle admiration and even more tender caresses of his fingers against your skin made you the tears behind your eyelids threaten to spill.
“In Japanese art there’s something called Kintsugi,” he sighed against your thigh, “Gold being used to fill in the cracks of damaged pottery...only to make it anew and more refined than ever.” His fingertips smoothed over your fresh stretch marks, “You were never ever broken darling,” and he kissed them with a warm fondness, “Your body is a vessel of love, so much so that these are proof - stripes imprinted physically; made from a heart that loves and is well loved,” you caught him smiling now in admiration, “Stripes that only serve to make you as beguiling beyond measure...a work of art and beauty nearest to my heart.”
He kissed the softened scars once more and it made your heart start to race with how close he was to your sex. He didn’t miss the whimper in your voice, but instead chuckled low in response. His palms smoothed up your thighs, settling at your hips.
“Don’t you see, my flower?” Karamatsu cooed, “These stretch marks are a part of you - and with everything I am, I adore every part of you there is to have.”
Deft fingers curled around the band of your underwear, tugging them downward until he could get them fully off of you. With sincerity in his gaze, he gripped your thighs and settled your legs fully over his shoulders.
“Now,” purred Karamatsu, as he placed one last kiss on your thigh, “Allow me to rid you of your worries of today, and convince you of how truly exquisite you are both outside...and in.”
#n s f w ish#ososan#osomatsu san#karamatsu#karamatsu matsuno#karamatsu x reader#x reader#x reader fanfiction#x reader fanfic#ososan fanfiction#osomatsu san fanfiction#tw: body image#tw: body insecurity#thigh kisses#comfort#body image comfort#reader can technically be gender neutral here!#...and yes - yes he does#and it's so good#stretch marks
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Marks Of Progress (Black Clover)
Heyo! I'm home today! (Weather chaos), I felt a bit inspired as of late and decided to take a mini break from Candy Hearts to write about Asta and Luck! I need to do more Lee!Asta content, and here we are! I hope you like it!
CW: Scars, body insecurity
Summary: Asta's feeling a bit off regarding all his scars from battle. Thankfully he has someone like Luck to make him feel better.
Cloud 9 (Taglist peeps)
@duckymcdoorknob (Thank you for the inspiration, friend!)
“Asta! Asta Asta ASTA!” Luck all but bolted at him the minute he saw the shorter wizard, bouncing on his heels. “I’ve been looking for you! Come on- let’s fight!”
“Heh? But I just got back-” Asta barely had time to respond before Luck’s hand was on his wrist, pulling him with him towards the door. “At least let me shower first!”
“No way! You’ll only get sweaty all over again! It’ll be a waste!” Luck grinned over his shoulder at the other, pausing when his eyes landed on his arm. “Whoa- what’s that?”
Along Asta’s arm stood a brand new scar. Long and curved, it raced up the side of his arm from mid-forearm to elbow. The color indicated it wasn’t fresh, but there was no denying it was there to stay.
“Oh that?” Asta nodded at it. “Got it the other day during a mission. I forgot to duck, hehe.”
“Pfft! Why would you need to duck? You’re already so short!” Luck cackled at his joke, choking on it when he saw Asta’s face. “Eh…ehem. Sorry.”
“No, no you’re fine. It’s just…” Asta rubbed the back of his neck, eyes trained on his arm. Alongside his new one, faded scars lined his once smooth skin. Short ones, long ones, curved marks and fresh wounds. It wasn’t just his arms- he felt them all over. Memories of powerful enemies and near death experiences ached with each phantom pain. “Do you think it’s a bad thing? How scarred up I am?”
“Why would it be?” Luck asked, tilting his head in thought. His smile shrunk to a more curious one, brows furrowing as he took in the question. “I think scars are awesome! Well- the pain isn’t great. And healing can be a real pain in the butt…” Luck hummed, rocking on his heels. “But each one tells a story! When you’re the Wizard King, the kingdom will want to know about all of them!”
“You think so?” Asta looked up, starting to smile at Luck’s words. “You don’t think they’re…I don’t know…ugly?” Asta flushed at the word, hating how subconscious he suddenly felt.
Luck tsked, releasing his hand before shrugging off his Black Bull vest. Now derobed, he yanked up his shirt, baring his torso to the other. “Check me out! I got scars too!” He pointed at the one along his stomach. “That one’s from that one guy we fought- the one who sent me flying. Oh! And this one-” He pointed at his hip, gesturing to the curved burn creeping up from his waistline. “This is when me and Magna went into that super cool dungeon! I walked into a trap, hehe!”
“What about that one?” Asta pointed at the scar just beneath Luck’s belly button, a mark so faint you almost didn’t see it.
“That…I don’t remember.” Luck blinked, poking at it some. “I think I got knocked out- somebody probably harvested my organs. The point is-” Luck smiled at Asta as he let his shirt fall. “Our scars don’t make us ugly! They’re marks of progress! Little reminders of the progress we made in our journey to get stronger! Nothing about your marks are ugly, Asta. Remember that.”
Asta blinked, letting it all sink in. He didn’t expect to receive a pep talk today- from Luck of all people too! It made him feel all sorts of feelings- the biggest one was loved.
Giving him a wobbly smile, Asta nodded, not trusting his voice. “Thanks, Luck…”
“Hehe, no problem! Now that we’ve talked about mine, what about yours?” The blonde reached out, poking Asta’s upper arm. “I know you got one here from that battle with the witches! Oh, and this one!” He poked his shoulder. “That was when you were training with the Vermillion captain! How cool!”
“Ah! Luck, what are you do-ihihng?” Asta jerked with a giggle when Luck’s fingers poked down his back. “Stop it tihihihckles!”
“This one, and this one, oh, can’t forget about this one!” Luck danced around him, prodding at the back of his ribs and hips. “All reminders of how badass you are, Asta! What’s this one? Or this one?”
“L-Luhuhuhuck! Luhuuhuck, cohoohohme ohohohon!” Asta giggled helplessly, wrapping his arms around himself as the older Bull relentlessly tickled him. “I geheheheht it! Now stahhahahap!”
“But I’m not done! There’s one here- move your hands!” Luck laughed, abandoning all sense of oblivion as he grabbed Asta’s sides, worming his fingers against the fleshy parts. “I wanna see those battle scars!”
“Ah! Ahehahahhahaha! Luhuuhuuhck!” Asta cried, grabbing at his friend’s hands as he squirmed. “Nohohohohow yohohoohu’re just behehehehehing stuhuhuuhuhpid- Ahehahhhahah dohoohohohon’t!” Luck’s fingers charged, little tasered zaps further electrified his nerves, sending fresh waves of ticklishness up his body. “Yohohohohohou suhuhuhuhuuhck!”
“Aww, so mean! And after I made you feel better!” Luck giggled like a child, bouncing with Asta as he worked his hands up to his ribs, zapping him here and there to get those loud cackles and squeals from the swordsman. “You’re just like Magma! He calls me all sorts of things when I do this!” His eyes danced as he shot his hands up all the way to Asta’s armpits, buzzing the tips of his fingers there.
“AHEHAHHHAHA LUHUUHUUCK!” Asta all but shrieked, spasming so hard he fell backwards. Luck followed him down, saving him from a concussion with a leg slide. This also trapped Asta in his lap. Two for one! “COOHOHOOHME OHOHOHOOHOHN! DOHOOHOOHN’T TIHIIHIHIICKLE MEHEHHEHEHEHE!”
“Why not? It’s so fun!” Luck giggled, amused by the way Asta’s cheeks pinkened, his smile massive. He curled and squirmed like a bug, feet kicking and hands balled up into fists. And his laugh- loud and happy sounding! If Magma’s wasn’t hilarious to listen to, Luck would say this was his favorite sound yet. “You sound funny, hehehe!”
“LUHUHUHUUHUCK ENOHOOHOHOOUGH!” Asta wailed, the hairs on his arms starting to stand from how much charge he collected. Seeing this, Luck retreated his hands, letting Asta roll off his lap and into a ball on the floor. “Ehhee…eheehhehe…thahahahnk you.” Asta huffed, spreading out like a starfish.
“Aww, you’re welcome Astar!” Luck cooed. “If I knew you’d thank me for tickling you, I’d do it more often!”
“Thahahat’s not what I mehaant!” Asta glared some, the look lacking any real malice. “I meant…Thank you. For what you said about my scars. It helped.”
Luck nodded, smiling to himself. If you looked close enough, you could see the faintest blush touching his cheeks. “It’s just something a good friend always told me. SO!” Luck shot to his feet, bouncy energy returned. “Let’s go train! I wanna show you my new magic!”
“Okay okay.” Asta snorted, reaching out a hand. Luck took it-
ZZZZZZPT!
“AH WHAT THE HELL?” Yami roared from what sounded like the toilet as the entire base went dark. Muffled screams and yells could be heard around the space, Noelle’s shocked squeal and Finral’s cry of surprise. Upstairs, something thumped loudly, Magma cursing up a storm could be heard seconds later.
“LUCK!” A chorus of voices all yelled, making the blonde pale.
“Asta…” He turned to the smaller man.
“RUN!” Asta grabbed his hand, booking it to the exit. They broke out into the sunlight, laughing like children as the rest of the Bulls hollered after them.
Thanks for reading!
#Black Clover#asta#luck voltia#tickle#tickle fic#tw: scars#tw: body insecurity#We need more lee!Asta#I got more Lee!Asta for us! :D#Luck and his friendship is so wholesome?#I need to write for them more#Hope you like it!
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