#fatphobia has killed people

[jenjensd]

If you ever consider a job where you have to care for people, you are not allowed to be a bigot. I don’t give a shut if you’ve “always wanted to be a nurse”. Quit. Now. If you are in a position where people depend on you, you cannot be selfish.

Doctors, Nurses, Teachers. If you are a transphobe, racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, eugenicist, fatphobic, misogynist, any of that shit. Quit right fucking now. You cannot be trusted to care for people unless you are able to put aside your biases and help people.

We’ve all heard stories of that shitty bully who became a nurse and acts like they never tormented the weird kid at school. The nurses who don’t like you because you’re not a typical case. The doctors who dismiss the person with a brain tumour because she happens to be fat.

If you are a Fucking bigot about anything you can get the fuck out of your job. If you won’t help everyone no matter who they are, you cannot do your Fucking job.

#I’m aware most bigots don’t think they are #and the rest are too stubborn #I am so fed up #my mum nearly died of a brain tumour because doctors called her neurological symptoms “excess adipose tissue #as if being fat can cause fainting and dizzy spells and loss of motor control #and all her other symptoms #fatphobia has killed people #racism has killed people #antisemitism has killed people #transphobia has killed people #homophobia has killed people #ableism has killed people #all of these things and more have killed so many people #because it’s imperative that people be treated right #and they rarely ever are #especially in medical settings

[martyrbat]

in the newest edition of skinny bitch audacity (fatphobia):

comparing weight gain to... being a meth addict. and that you can look at someone and be qualified to say theyre degrading their health if they arent a small enough size for you to be attracted to them/be 'acceptable'

[IF YOU SHAME ADDICTS ON THIS POST YOURE GETTING BLOCKED. IF YOU SHAME FAT PEOPLE ON THIS POST YOURE GETTING BLOCKED. I WILL NOT WARN YOU TWICE.]

#literally as someone who put a small hole in my nose from snorting pills i stole and destroyed an oven making meth #i think my eating disorder is and always will be the biggest health issue i have subjected myself too #people treated me better when i was skinnier and diluting drain killer and throwing up on myself after attempting suicide #then being fat and more gentle to my body despite my surroundings #im disabled and not the healthiest vs walking 30 miles a day before but... i was fucking destroying my organs and had no personality #that isnt healthy!!!! #this is the same mindset that encourages eating disorders! that encourages and excuses doctors dismissing fat people's problems and blaming #it on weight when that isnt a factor! the same mindset that kills thousands!! get a life get a personality and stay out of peoples business! #thats not even going into how fatphobia as a whole has racist origins and how it still upholds to this day! #educate yourself and liberate yourself instead of still upholding this bullshit that harms millions #i hate skinny bitches you owe me 500 dollars and the decency to shut the fuck up for forever #ransom note #cw fatphobia #also adding that note at the end like. this site loves being hostile to fat people AND addicts and im not entertaining your audacity either

[fatphobiabusters]

This post is to remember the singer Cass Elliot who tragically died due to fatphobia. To put it simply, an entire life of cruelty about Cass Elliot's fatness caused her to resort to starvation diets, substance misuse, and what very well could have been an eating disorder. She attempted to survive the fatphobia by playing the fatphobic, stereotypical role of the "funny fat person." Not even in death was she allowed to escape fatphobia, as her tragic death was used as a fat joke by spreading a rumor that she had died by "gluttony." More specifically: choking on a sandwich. Despite that not being true, people continue to believe that debunked myth today. If not for this fatphobic society, Cass Elliot, an incredibly talented singer, would not have died at age 32, involuntarily leaving her only daughter parentless, and likely would have still been alive today.

If you're not sure who Cass Elliot was, this is one of her most iconic songs with her former band:

And here is a solo performance by her. Some people might recognize this song since it was apparently used for a TikTok trend:

For more details about the horrendous fatphobia she endured her entire 32 years, here is a video and two articles that explain. A trigger warning for the second article since it uses the slur "ob*se" and "overweight."

In memory of her, please do not call her "Mama Cass." She hated that nickname because it was used specifically due to fatphobic stereotypes.

If anyone needed an example of how deadly fatphobia has been for centuries, I hope you'll think of Cass Elliot, one of the plethora of people who have been killed by fat people's systemic oppression and still faces oppression to this day while 6 feet under.

-Mod Worthy

#fatphobia #internalized fatphobia #Cass Elliot #The Mamas and The Papas #fat liberation #tw eating disorders #ED mention #Mod Worthy #o word

[neuroticboyfriend]

thanks to ableism, heightism, and fatphobia, almost nothing is made to fit or work for my body ever. mobility aids. furniture. clothes. shoes. cars. etc. etc. if any of these do work out for me, they're usually expensive and i have a much more limited selection than abled, average height, straight sized people.

this isn't just inconvenience, either. things like furniture and shoes not being made for me causes me pain and takes a toll on my body, because i physically cant use them properly. making things fit me takes energy and money that i cant afford, but sometimes have to spend anyway. the safety measures in things like cars could injure or even kill me if i were to get in a bad accident.

being short, fat, and disabled in this society is so much harder than it has to be. it's unfair and downright dangerous that our bodies aren't being taken into account when designing almost everything around us. disabled people deserve better. fat people deserve better. people with short and tall stature deserve better.

we're just as much part of this world as everyone else, and we deserve to live in a world that acts like we exist.

#softspoonie #disabled #disability #ableism #heightism #fatphobia #systemic discrimination #systemic injustice #systemic ableism #systemic oppression #fat #fat people #mobility aids #mobility aid user #short stature #tall stature #little people #little person #dwarfism

[ayphyx]

Why is it that whenever someone talks about media literacy they only talk about things like rape, incest, pedophilia, and murder but never misogyny, racism, fatphobia, or ableism

Like it’s always about “problematic ships” and “evil characters” but never about how the treatment of woc in media influences how woc are treated in society and vice versa. How female characters are almost always the ones being singled out as “annoying” compared to male characters. Or how, yeah, there might be an in-story reason to why this lazy, depressed character is fat but societal views on fat people being lazy, depressed, unhygienic, etc., most definitely influenced the writer’s choice to make that lazy character fat.

I find that a lot of the “media literacy” arguments that pertain to subjects of sexual abuse and violence don’t really apply to other subjects in a way that isn’t wildly or even somewhat bigoted. Ofc there’s not gonna be a catch-all argument for how every theme should be treated in media but the arguments should at least be somewhat consistent.

I rarely ever see anyone talk about media literacy in a way that doesn’t boil down to “ok but liking evil/bad/taboo characters/themes/stories don’t make you a bad person and authors can write things they don’t agree about.” This statement isn’t wrong and i agree with it but it shouldn’t be your only knowledge on what media literacy is.

Sometimes, a story that has a rape scene in it depicts rape poorly. Whether its because rape was written in a fetishistic light or because the victims weren’t treated with the respect that they deserve, you need to be able to know how and why that scene is (cant think of a better word rn but I’ll probably change it later cause i don’t really like using this word) problematic. The fact that the story depicts rape isn’t the problem, it’s how they chose to depict it. And yes, how this story depicts rape can absolutely affect how a person views rape victims irl.

Sometimes, an author includes racist views into their work. Sure, depiction isn’t endorsement but when an author writes primarily about white characters, and has the first character of color in their book be executed as that character’s introduction, don’t be surprised when that author turns out to be a racist.

Yes, fiction isn’t one-to-one with reality but they both influence each other in a way that cannot be escaped. You will never find a piece of media that isn’t influenced by reality and you will never find a person whose views havent been influenced by a piece of media.

(Also, there is a tendency that i see in a lot of fandom “media literacy” people. And that is the tendency to use leftist, anti-racist phrases and terminology to refer to fandom discourse. “Kill the cop inside your head” refers to killing that part of your brain that has been drilled by society to view black, brown, and poor people as threats. It does not refer to people who don’t like your 20k incest fanfiction and are kinda mean about it. Stop fucking fandomizing anti-racist rhetoric. You just look fucking racist)

Sorry if this is kinda incoherent, I’m mostly just rambling.

#funnily enough #i find a lot of medial literacy discussions lack nuance #anti intellectualism #if you will #media literacy #if you want #long post #long rant #making this my pinned post an acquaintance on discord said this was good #my takes

[57sfinest]

What do you think about Evrart Claire? You mentioned you think about him in one of your tags I think.

okay i will first direct to you to trusted mutual @sydmarch for the most in-depth evrart thoughts with the appropriate warning for nsfw lmfaoo

but like. evrart is one of those characters where you have an initial knee-jerk reaction to them and then you kinda have to reevaluate after all is said and done because you get a LOT more context on them as you go.

most shallowly, you're meant to see evrart as the slimy "fantastically corrupt" union (mob) boss who sits in his office embezzling and making others do his dirty work (the hardies as his enforcement, you as his little errand dog, you get the point). however, a first point i want to make is that comparing a justified labor or civil rights advocate group to a "mob" is such a ubiquitous piece of capitalist/bigot rhetoric that it should automatically clue you in to the fact that something else is going on here. also taken in context with the fact that kortenaer poses as a scab to break the strike, further framing the union as a lazy, entitled, unreasonable splinter faction of stupid socialists-- obviously we know that the people who made this game are leftists, so it's not just Ough Unions Bad. there is Something Else Going On! because we are seeing this union strike filtered primarily through the lens of someone who is, consciously or not, a moralintern lackey! even at his most self-aware, calling himself the moralintern's bitch, harry does not have enough awareness of the world and his role in it to recognize how he is being manipulated by the various agendas at play here, and that affects our perception of it.

i think evrart presents as corrupt and weaselly on purpose! again syd has said a lot of this already & i've added some stuff in their tags, but i'll reiterate here for convenience. he is aware of the rhetoric people can use against him and he uses that to his advantage. he's using his personal reputation as misdirection. we see in dialogue that even joyce, an ultraliberal diehard capitalist who obviously dislikes the union, concedes that it was respectable in and of itself before the claires came in:

and we can infer that a lot of that might be because the union was *less effective before the claires took charge*. of course a capitalist will respect an ineffective labor union! but on top of this, the claires' open "corruption" give anti-union people an easy target for criticisms that serve to legitimize the union itself. oh, they say, well, the union is alright, it's just the claires that are ruining it. it's misdirection and it's genius. evrart's reputation isn't a concern if the union is doing its job, right? and here's another thing: i think people will trust open corruption more than they'll trust altruism that seems to good to be true. especially in a world with something like moralism, where this organization has killed millions and will kill *millions more* for a "greater good" that is literally just the status quo. if evrart's corruption is an open secret, as joyce puts it, people feel they can trust him *because* he's transparent about the bad things he supposedly does or supports or whatever. at least he's honest, right?

this makes the juxtaposition of evrart with joyce SUPER interesting, too. i think they both have that 'honest about their bad traits' way of going at people- joyce with her self-aware but relentless ultraliberalism, evrart with his intentionally misrepresented agendas. of the two, i think people tend to like joyce a lot more, despite her and evrart using pretty much the *same exact tactics*, and i think that tendency is largely explained by the intersection of gender and fatphobia and ingrained capitalist rhetoric, but i digress.

yes, the way evrart's little tasks are presented makes them *feel* slimy- you're evrart's peone, you're a little bitch dog running his errands to get a gun you never should have lost to begin with, he knows how to help and he's toying with you- but it's on purpose!! you can be joyce's little bitch dog too and it's not framed anywhere near as scummy. It Is On Purpose. because if evrart pretends to be the "socialist" mob boss, maybe it really does get martinaise the youth center, or enough money to, you know, fix the crumbling buildings that could kill the tenants at any moment. there are genuinely good things he is sincerely trying to accomplish. he is curating his image exactly as he needs it to be to get things done and that's partly why joyce hates him *so much*.

and of course this isn't to say that the claires never do anything wrong. contracting dros to kill the previous union head, for example. if i had to pin evrart's major sin, i think he's an "end justifies the means" type of guy. the other union head candidate needed to die for progress to be made. the fishing village will have to go so we can build martinaise up properly. some people, if not willingly cooperative- like harry- need to be used for their status regardless. we see the union at the opposite end of "for the greater good" as moralism: where moralism wants to stall the world, the union represents ruthless progression. why else the red-vs-blue juxtaposition of the union vs the moralintern and its financial interests? the red banners draped over shipping containers?

#the passivity of 'a blue forget me not a piece of the gray sky' #and the absolute useless resignation of their unofficial motto 'for a moment there was hope' #vs the unyielding demand of EVERY WORKER A MEMBER OF THE BOARD #do you understand. gripping you by the collar DO YOU UNDERSTAND. #also this shit is partly why evrart goes for harry and just shuts kim down every time he tries to interject #evrart knows harry is impressionable in this moment #kim 1) has the potential to talk harry out of sympathizing with the union #and 2) has strong moralist or at least anti-disruption convictions already so evrart knows he can't be swayed so easily #if evrart bothered to do research on harry OF COURSE he looked into kim as well. #saurrr yeah take evrart as you like but he is doing real work you can't deny that #kiwipost #evrart claire #disco elysium #ec meta #gen meta #ask

[genderkoolaid]

I'm interested in what others think of this video.

On one hand, it discusses fatphobia in a very easy-to-understand manner. It covers the racist, eugenicist, unscientific history of BMI, how it was used by insurance companies, the construction of the obesity epidemic using poor science, talks a good bit about men with eating disorders, calls out the "calories in calories out" model as well as the individualization of health rather than looking at systemic issues, and talks about anti-fat bias as a fact which harms people.

But on the other hand... I was disappointed by how lukewarm it felt. Like, the bring up that the deaths attributed to obesity were grossly inflated, and that doctors are negatively biased against fat patients... but they never connect the two? Like, they never say "hey, maybe the reason why fat people have poor health is in part because doctors are killing them via gross medical neglect"? Or questioning what exactly is counted as a "death from obesity"? Instead, they kind of say "the obesity epidemic is inflated, and might not be an epidemic, but also we aren't saying for sure its not a problem at all."

And they also never bring up the science of diets & how they don't work! They discuss diet culture and are very critical of diets, but they don't discuss how diets have been shown to fail by many studies. And they also don't bring up Health At Any Size & how that tactic has been shown to improve health regardless of whether or not there's weight loss. Their advice for how to deal with this problem is basically "don't fatshame people," which isn't wrong but its also doesn't really encourage people to confront internalized & systemic fatphobia on a meaningful level. I don't think they ever say the word "fatphobia."

Its just... disappointing! Like on one hand, you could say this video is good as an introduction into how the fatphobia industry has been built for people who have very little knowledge on it and are resistant to anti-diet culture ideas. On the other hand, its annoying that even leftist media is still so hesitant to actually engage with more radical fat liberation- most people don't even know that its been a movement since the 1960s. It just feels like a missed opportunity. It feels like the left is stuck at "don't be mean to fat people!" and refuses to move on to more radical notions of fat people as an oppressed class.

@fatphobiabusters do you have any thoughts on this?

#m.

[kithj]

tired of the obsession with "ethical" vampires and also "good" vampires who don't eat.

i think there's a lot to be said about fatphobia and the glamorization of EDs in vampire media, particularly in more modern depictions... i don't want to place the blame solely on twilight because this was happening way before the 2000s but i do think that had a huge impact with meyer's weird obsession and unwillingness to depict the vampires as anything other than thin and pale (and her singular fat aka tall and curvy vampire is described as "intensely feminine" and we don't have time to unpack all of that in this post)

saying that vampire venom "melts the fat" off of people, or that the vampire venom turns a person into their "ideal self" - who is the one saying my ideal self would be skinny? why is that the ideal at all?

i also just find it soooo fucking boring to neuter your vampires in this way. the whole point is to explore these deep desires and impulses and especially in romance these power imbalances that come from human/vampire relationships. i find the "good" vampire to be such a cop out. why even make them a vampire. twc vampires are just glorified super soldiers that work for the government. twilight vampires are just a bunch of mormon models. there's no real substance to them. even if you wanted to make an argument about edward, it falls flat because stephanie meyer doesn't write him intentionally, she genuinely thinks this shit is romantic & isn't ever really interested in exploring their age gap or edward's hunger.

i think interview with the vampire (the show) approaches the "good" vampire in an interesting way with louis. the decision to make him a gay black man adds so much to his desire to be "good" (accepted) and there's more to it than just him not wanting to eat humans; he's worried about the way the world will perceive him. and he still has so much love for claudia despite how different they are and the things she's done (but ultimately he still chooses lestat over her!!!) and he tries to influence daniel's perception of her, too. i also like that they still actually show him eating, versus the cullens, who i don't ever recall being shown on screen (or in the book) eating anything.

when i write about the hunger in blood choke, i worried about how people would react to the hunting scenes in ch2. overall, way more positively than i expected. there's a lot more i want to expand on especially in the next chapter, and i worry about how it may look right now in the game's unfinished state. i don't want the hunger to be something bad, at least not at its core. everyone is hungry. everyone eats. and i wanted to make it so the vampires in my world could not just opt out of it. they can't eat animals, they can't sustain on blood alone, they have to eat.

when it comes to the mc, they struggle with the hunger, but it's more than that. like with louis, it's the combination of that visceral hunger but also being gay and gender nonconforming, someone who has always been an outcast in society struggling to find their way back in after having their memories and sense of self completely wiped clean. their hunger is a manifestation of this idea they have of their past self - the potential for them to become the next Standard - and their physical/sexual desire that they repressed for so long now untethered due to their lack of memories as well as waking up in a more accepting world.

i think this is a much more interesting way to approach the hunger as opposed to painting the actual act of eating as inherently evil. in twilight, all the good vampires don't eat, even when bella is a human she doesn't eat. in dracula, lucy is only ever good when she doesn't eat. and when she does eat, she becomes an evil, indulgent sexual demon that is a threat to all men and she has to be destroyed.

female vampires always get the worst of it; they are sexual deviants, they want to kill all men, they asked for it, they're disgusting and vile for desiring anything from food to sex to independence. this of course goes way back; again, look at lucy. even in more "progressive" vampire media like bit, the lesbian vampire is evil, hates all men, and is tricking and seducing her female companions into it.

it's interesting to see how far back these trends go. dracula and carmilla all the way up to the modern depictions today. the "good" vampire narrative almost never works; i think because the idea of what is "good" is always going to be influenced by the person creating it. edward is not a "good" vampire. he is a 108 year old man who preys on a teenage girl; this should have been far more important to his character than whether or not he, as a vampire, drinks human blood. but instead he's considered good because he only eats deer and he's skinny and white and looks like a model, and because stephanie meyer says he is.

i don't write all this to say that these topics can't be explored (twilight is terrible for many other reasons, and i think iwtv does do it well) but just to point out why, in my opinion, the "good" vampire is usually such a weak narrative. who decides what is good? and there are other ways to explore the themes of desire and humanity than just restricting their diet... just because your vampire doesn't eat humans does not make them automatically good. and to be frank no vampire will ever be ethical!!! that's the point!!!!

#hello. can anyone hear me #this is just a steam of consciousness rant. i dont know #also i still have like 2 or 3 episodes of iwtv left so 🙉 #this was inspired by a video i watched on youtube the other day and also people complaining abt twc on the reddit again #and that post going around about how its probably way worse to steal blood from a blood bank than to just drink it from someone LOL #where people then recommend increasingly unethical ways for them to be ethical #like feeding on prisoners (jfc) or tricking people in a spa #even the hotel in blood choke is unethical. i wrote it that way. i purposefully made it so the woman changed her mind #but the mc nor hana care #anyways. sorry im watching a lot of vampire stuff lately lmfao #and im still disappointed by bit i will never get over it #ed tw

[tarajenkins]

It's that time again

Time to make a massive post for my thoughts on the Lord Vauthry side of the new Encyclopaedia 3! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ Spoiler alert: they aren't positive at all, lmao As it turns out, there is a convenient cover-our-ass disclaimer right off that this book is diegetic. The information in it is supposed to have been gleaned from the Scions. The Scions who, especially in the case of Eulmore's ~dark secrets~, would know jack shit about fuck all.

Admittedly, Hydaelyn should've known at least some of this through the death of her last Oracle, but for whatever reason it slipped her mind to tell us any of it in-game. Whoops!

Or maybe she was relying on that child to be the stopgap against the Rejoining happening too soon, like Selch. She could've at least given credit where it was due, if so. >:T

Twitter had a huge pearl-clutching shitfit the other day about that Oracle's death, which boiled down to "EW GROSS FATTY BEAT A CHILD TO DEATH OMG". The OP showed a screenshot of the page which mentions that Vauthry attacked the Oracle after having a nightmare that she would kill him. But they chose not to link the FIRST part for whatever reason, where it stated the Oracle in question had been fighting Sin Eaters alongside Ran'jit before Vauthry was even born. So unless this Oracle was an infant slayer of Sin Eaters, Vauthry was the child in that scenario--at age TWELVE. A twelve-year-old somehow defeated Hydaelyn's avatar, who was a skilled fighter trained by Ran'jit himself. (Ran'jit was a Master Assassin at five years old, btw. No, really.)

That said, the fanbase in that post naturally bought the OP's failure to math the way Estinien buys his hair ties: like suckers. Players were parroting the misinformation via solo posts and showing their entire ass on fatphobia in this character's tag all day. And, of course, where the fandom forgives and forgets the atrocities of almost every other character, people suddenly seemed very invested in making Vauthry enjoyers EXPLAIN THEMSELVES because this character did THIS.

When that was called out for the glaring hypocrisy, one poster replied it's just that "people are shocked at child abuse suddenly being mentioned and relevant."

Except child abuse has ALWAYS been mentioned and relevant in this game. It also applies to Vauthry himself. Emet-Selch essentially killed Vauthry before he was even born, dooming an infant to a life of madness and violence by fusing the baby with a Lightwarden. His father groomed him on lies for a power grab, Ascians further manipulated him in his madness to raise the Virtues, Ascend Gaia's parents, and who knows what else. What would you call that, if not abuse? Thank Emet-Selch for the previous Oracle being murdered. That wasn't going to happen with a 12-year-old who wasn't corrupted by a Lightwarden.

But, let's be real. All the derision of the character's weight during that Twitstorm made it extra obvious what makes him ~problematic~ to them. For their faves, it's "it's just fiction uwu" or the classic ~moral relativism~. For Vauthry, it's rabid foaming because it's clearly a Moral Failing to enjoy THAT character, and we who do must be harassed for it! Case in point, the Twitter OP even pulled out the old uwu ~at least I'm not a ~Vauthry shipper uwu" chestnut, I kid you not. At least, rabid foaming on behalf of vidya game children everywhere until I asked if it was finally time to discuss how many pixel children were murdered by the Rejoinings or Garlean occupation, for a start. Kids freezing in the Brume, etc. Kids made monsters by corrupting them in the womb. You know. A Tuesday. Crickets, then.

"I can't imagine Vauthry ever being a child", someone else posted.

They showed him as a baby in his mother's arms, in the Echo flashback. It's not hard. But I guess it's easier to dehumanize a fat character than it is to think a little.

If anyone else wants to be pissed at me saying all this as they were years ago, I really, really can't be arsed to care. It's rare NOT to see this character's fatness derided in just about any discussion of him. It sure was in his Twitter tags the other day. And, well. Every day. If you want to prove me wrong, though, confront that behavior when you see it, make shutting it down the norm, instead of whining how I'm "too rude" and so that invalidates my points somehow. No shit I'm rude when this "great community" has all the wit of bullies on a playground. Go tone police them instead, maybe.

ANYWAY

On the plus side, some of this new sorta-lore does seem to still back up some of my original in-game theories, but he was already twisted by the corruption from birth. There's no denying that anymore at least, no more hearing stuff from the fanbase like "uwu Emet-Selch gave him a GIFT, Vauthry just abused it uwu". (Who am I kidding, the last part will still happen.) Also, since the actual writers of this book don't stand behind anything written in it, I can still give him the happy ending in AUville that he should have had canonly. ⸜( ˙˘˙)⸝ ♡

What the purpose of this book is when nothing in it is concrete, I have no idea. But if Square can't back off their unimaginative fatphobia, can they at LEAST make Eulmore make sense?

NOPE ( ᐛ )b

Vauthry's father was named Veronth Mudthane, and in this retcon they imply he took more than a minute to decide that allowing a rando to corrupt his baby without asking his wife first was a swell deal. "The Scions" should've at least known the Echo shown in-game just…completely refutes that. But this book also has a blurb for Anogg but shows a portrait of her brother Konogg, so I honestly have to wonder if "The Scions" even played this game.

Vauthry's mother, as per usual, is not given a name or otherwise addressed at all. Because reasons.

"A euphoric Veronth went on to spoil his offspring in extravagant fashion, showering this "new god" with adoration bordering on worship. Such treatment would warp any child's mind, and Vauthry was no exception: he grew up willful, wanton, and possessed of an awful temper."

No exceptions except: Alphinaud, Alisaie, Nanamo, the fandom darlings of Ishgard (arguably excluding Emmanellain but for some reason he always gets a free pass), Hildibrand, Sark Malark, I'm sure I am forgetting some but you get the idea! There's only one difference, I wonder what it could be--

reads book's description of Vauthry's "corpulent chest"

--ah, right. The shitty tropes barely disguised as storytelling. Double standards! It's not just for jackasses in the fanbase anymore! "The Scions" are trying to lay this on "spoiling", when the child was fused with a Lightwarden. Ask Titania how that went for them.

The book goes on to say Vauthry murdered both of his parents at age nine in a fit of temper. You read that right: age nine. With witnesses. Somehow. They go on to mention the witnesses may have been okay with it perhaps because of "a growing mastery over his Lightwarden powers of domination". You know, those powers of domination that didn't exist in-game when Alphinaud chastised the Eulmorans for willfully ignoring the plight of the rest of the world. Those powers of domination that, when they finally were exerted in-game, resulted in the Eulmorans staggering around like drunks, muttering and supremely useless.

In-game, Vauthry wasn't "dominating" anything until he sprouted meatwings and fled to Gulg. Otherwise, Tristol would never have been able to ask to leave? Alphinaud would've been affected, even if the WoL was shielded by the Blessing of Light. Kai-Shirr would have chopped his arm off gladly. The Eulmorans would be blameless for everything Alphinaud and the narrative blamed them for.

In any case, both in this book and in-game, the writers completely gutted their own narrative of Vauthry and/or Eulmore being symbolic of All Things Bad. It's pretty impressive. Vauthry was corrupted by a Lightwarden, like Titania; his mind and behavior were compromised by this from birth. And if he DID control the Eulmorans the whole time, then they had no free will, either.

The book claims Vauthry used Ascension as a cruel game and delighted in ~revealing the truth~ to his victims as they became Sin Eaters. But they never explained why there would be a need to hide any truth with this latest spin on the dumpster fire that is the Eulmore arc.

In-game, there were rules to even request Ascension of him, and it was limited to and at the discretion of the formerly rich free citizenry. Workers could be granted it, but only if their patron vouched for them. The free citizens apparently had to wait until they were at their natural end, as per the Warbler's patron. The random disappearance of so many people from the stagnant population of that tower over the years would cause a panic by any stretch of the imagination. Word would get out, because workers on the inside were shown to be able to visit loved ones in Gate Town. Only allowing Ascension at the natural end of life would cover all that part up, except Vauthry was only 29 years old. The opportunities for Ascension: The Game would've been about as often as Minfilias spawned in that one century. (Which, according to the game, was totally hundreds on hundreds of Minfilias!) Either way makes zero good sense. The convoluted lengths they went through for the sake of these cheap fatphobic tropes is staggering, I s2g.

Meol still doesn't make sense, either. They doubled down on the "fat character eats people" trope in the book, but tbh I've come to expect unoriginality from anything directed by Naoki "Diversity would be unrealistic in my giant magic summon fantasy game" Yoshida.

Sin Eaters are said to have been found in cages next to a butcher table sort of setup, even though in-game, Sin Eaters have no bones, blood, or meat. In fact, the sparklies they dissapate into upon death are rather important to the narrative, as that is what turns people into new Sin Eaters. Meol, you know, that dish which was still entirely optional, and so really contradictory to using it as some master plan to MC the populace.

TL;DR: This is what happens when you phone in lazy tropes instead of a story for a last-minute arc and call it a day. Imagine what we could've had if they'd done some actual thoughtful writing. Also TL;DR:

Mood, Your Lordship

#ffxiv #vauthry #long post #eulmore #character analysis #encyclopaedia eorzea #encyclopaedia eorzea 3

[disturbedbydesign]

Special Girl - Part 1

Summary: You arrived at Harvard as a shy, nerdy girl. You never thought a guy like Lloyd Hansen would notice you. But Lloyd saw you—really saw you—and for a time you became his special girl. Now, years later, you're stuck in a sexless marriage. Unloved and unfucked for months, you've decided enough is enough. The fact that Lloyd has been keeping tabs on you for years has nothing to do with it... or does it?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Chapter WC: 5.6K

Warnings: DUBCON (alcohol use/manipulation); INCREDIBLY unsafe/unhealthy/deadass wrong BDSM practices (Lloyd doesn't do safewords or aftercare); plus-sized reader/fatphobia; cheating; degradation; bondage, spanking/whipping, gagging; knife kink; blood kink; CNC roleplay; gunplay; rough oral (m receiving); explicit sex (O,V,A); unprotected sex (Lloyd doesn't wear condoms, ok?); unwanted pregnancies/abortion; physical intimidation/abuse; general toxicity; Lloyd is a psycho and he's fucking mean—Dead Dove Do Not Eat! 18+ only, no minors.

Series Masterlist

Part One

Every day feels the same, and that sameness is going to kill you soon. It’s been killing you slowly for years, but today it ends—one way or another. Six months, you’d told yourself. Six more months and you’re done.

You wake up next to the man you call your husband but he feels like a stranger to you. He grumbles as he throws the covers off and rips open the curtains, shoving his boxers down and kicking them into the corner instead of placing them in the hamper like you’d asked him more times than you can count. He showers with the door open, and the sight of his naked body makes you angry. He hasn’t fucked you in 5 months and 29 days, and you almost tell him, “Today’s your last chance, Michael,” but you don’t. You won’t beg for it. Not anymore. He has to want you.

Your 6-year-old son whines and struggles as you try to get him ready for school. Harrison hates school and he hates you for making him go there. You cook their breakfast and pack their lunches while they eat. When they’re done, you pour Dunkin breakfast blend into a crimson travel mug with the Harvard seal emblazoned on it, add just the right amount of 2% milk to turn it from black to caramel, and hand it to your husband. He thanks you with a kiss on the forehead—never the lips—and then leaves for his bright shiny law office in McLean.

You were going to be a lawyer once. You and Michael met at Harvard Law, and you both had the same idealistic dreams back then—you wanted to do immigration law, he wanted to work for the Innocence Project—but then you got pregnant and the smell of money wafting off the white-shoe firms was too tempting for Michael to pass up. You told yourself you’d go back to work once Harrison was older, that you wanted to be a hands-on mom for the first few years of his life, but you knew even then it was a lie you told yourself and everyone else. Seven years at Harvard, all that money and time and hard work, and for what? Washing skidmarked underwear and making PB&J with the crusts cut off.

What a fucking waste. You can hear it in his voice—that gleeful sneering tone that makes your blood run hot. So disappointing, Porkchop. So ordinary. So boring. I thought you wanted more than this. I thought you were special.

But Michael likes you at home. He likes a clean house and a hot meal and a child raised by its mother. He likes that your brain has atrophied in this endless cycle of cook-clean-chauffeur-shop, that you’re no longer smarter than him, that you rely on him for money even though you should be making six figures right now, too. He likes the big, beautiful house in the D.C. suburbs, the senators and lobbyist neighbors, the private schools and the fancy cars. He likes to answer for you when people at dinner parties and cocktail hours ask you what you do for a living: “Oh, she doesn’t work.”

You still don’t know what you did to make him hate you so much. (Actually, you do know, but Michael doesn’t.) It’s not even hate, though—it’s worse, it’s indifference. In some ways it’s so much crueler. At least with hatred, there’s some passion behind it. If you hate someone, it means a part of you still cares, still wants to love them—that maybe a part of you still does. You of all people would know.

You don’t hate Michael; you hate yourself for choosing this life with him—this boring, ordinary life—when you could have had something more. Maybe not what you wanted, who you wanted, but being hurt by him would have felt better than the endless parade of nothing you feel now. Did you ever love Michael? You think you must have at some point but you can’t remember why. Was it because he showed you that love didn’t have to hurt, that you could be more than someone’s dirty little secret? It’s been so long since you felt that way, though. Maybe it’s just another lie you tell yourself. 

You drive your son to school and he makes a scene at drop-off, begging you to take him back home. When Harrison is angry, which he is more and more lately, his ocean blue eyes turn stormy. That’s when you see it most clearly—when you see him—and you know the answer to the question you’ve refused to entertain for the last seven years. It wouldn’t matter anyway; he’d made that very clear the first time. You were only ever meant to be a secret indulgence, a toy he could take out of its hiding place and play with and throw away when it bored him. Besides, you know who he is now—what he does. There’s no room for you in his life, and certainly no room for Harrison.

And you’d be fine with that. You would, but he just won’t leave you alone.

You return home and you clean clean clean until everything sparkles and shines. You turn over endless piles of laundry. You pick up dry cleaning and drop off more. You eat a salad. You go to the gym and work it off. As your muscles burn and the sweat drips down your back, you force yourself to remember what it felt like to carry all that weight. Your body is screaming at you to stop but you keep going. Another pound or two, you think, and maybe my husband will touch me.

But that’s not why you work out—not really. You do it because you like the pain. You miss it. You haven’t felt that good pain in years but your body remembers it, remembers him.

Even when Michael was interested in fucking you, it was never what you wanted. There was no passion to it, nothing primal and animal that told you that he absolutely had to have you. Michael’s go-to move was poking you in the leg and saying, “Wanna do it?” and then engaging in bare-minimum foreplay before 15 minutes of missionary with the lights off. You could set a clock by it, but you told yourself it was ok because it was what you deserved. It was the punishment for your crimes, and living with it was your form of atonement. At least he made you cum sometimes.

But not like he did. Never like he did.

You shower at the gym and leave to pick up Harrison. It’s a Wednesday and he has Pee Wee football practice after school so you’re greeted with a smile instead of a scowl. Besides for pizza and superheroes, football is the only thing that makes your son truly happy, but for you it’s just hours and hours of practices and games and more laundry to do and the disapproving stares of the other mothers when Harrison breaks the no tackling rule. He’s big for his age already—tall and broad, built tough—and the rules of flag football mean nothing to him. One more hit, the coach had told you last week, and he’s out.

You sit at the far end of the bleachers, away from the other mothers and their death stares. They’ve all complained to the coach and you don’t blame them—if it was your son getting hurt instead of doing the hurting, you would feel the same way. You say a quick prayer to whatever god is listening that Harrison plays by the rules today and then you check your email on your phone. You’ve got a few Amazon shipping updates, a check-up reminder from Harrison’s dentist, and a message from the alumni association reminding you that the Harvard-Yale game is next weekend. You delete that one as aggressively as possible, and when you return to your inbox, there’s a new message.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think the sender was spam—just a nonsensical jumble of letters and numbers—but you’ve seen ones just like it many times before. The subject line is blank, and when you open it, there’s just two words: “Hey, Porkchop.” You look up and across the field and you see him standing in the parking lot, leaning against your car with his arms crossed. Your heart starts pounding when you make eye contact and it jumps into your throat when he gives you a cheeky little wave. 

You know he’s been watching you. His emails and texts over the years always made it clear that he’s keeping tabs. You never respond but they’ve been more frequent lately. Then six months ago he sent you a picture—-taken through the blinds in your bedroom—-of you and Michael having sex with a one-word message: “Boring.” Ever since you’ve felt his presence. Everywhere you go, you feel his eyes on you. He’s been telling you things he couldn’t possibly know if he wasn’t watching. He’s even started talking about Harrison—”Good looking kid,” he’d said in an email with a picture of Harrison at his first football practice attached. “Looking strong out there.”

You never thought he’d actually show up. You just assumed he’d been taunting you and teasing you and leading you on like he always did. But here he is in the flesh, wearing a black turtleneck and tight white pants and sporting a Tom Selleck mustache that should not be attractive but very much is. You grab your purse and hurry around the field to the lot, and as you approach him, he’s focused on the field, on Harrison.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?” you whisper-shout at him when you’re close enough.

“Aww, come on, Porkchop.” He looks you up and down and flashes you that smug smile that haunts your dreams. “Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. “I mean it.”

Lloyd takes you by the elbow and grips your arm hard, dragging you around to the back of your car with a few long strides. No one on the field can see you now, which should frighten you knowing what you know about the man in front of you. But you’re not afraid of him—-at least not like that. Lloyd likes to hurt you in other ways. 

“I can be wherever the fuck I want to be,” he snaps. “Besides, I thought you’d be happier to see me. You seem like you could use a little attention.” Lloyd removes his hand from your arm and runs it down your flank, grabbing at your hip and giving it a squeeze. “I gotta say, Porkchop, I liked you better with a little meat on your bones.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” You move to swat his hand away but he catches your wrist and you can’t help but look up into his piercing blue eyes—your son’s eyes. “Let go of me,” you whisper, but you don’t mean it. 

He chuckles and drops your wrist, running his hand across his chin. “Alright,” he says, “I’ll play nice.” He leans down close enough that you can feel the icy mint of his breath against your lips. “For now.”

“What do you want, Lloyd?”

“Today’s the day, right? D-Day? Last chance for ol’ Mikey to lay some pipe or you’re through?”

Your mouth drops open but only a tiny squeak comes out. How the fuck does he know that? The only person you told was your therapist.

“Oh, Porkchop. I know you’ve gone stupid on me since you had the kid, but when are you going to get it through your pretty little head that I know everything. I see everything. There isn’t a thing you can do or say or even think that I can’t find out about if I want to.”

“And why do you want to?” The words fly out before you can stop them. “Why the fuck do you even care, Lloyd? Why are you doing this to me?”

He cocks his head to the side and gives you a half smile that makes his dimple pop, and you see that little twinkle in his eyes that comes out to play when he’s feeling especially cruel.

“You know why.”

Lloyd grabs you by the throat and shoves you against the back of your SUV, kissing you so hard and deep that your legs threaten to give out. His thick mustache tickles your nostrils and it’s a new sensation. He was clean-shaven back at Harvard: one of the football team’s rules (and pretty much the only one Lloyd didn’t break). You moan into his mouth—-you can’t help it—-and the only thing holding you up is the hand around your neck and the weight of his broad, heavy body pressed against yours. You can feel him smirking against your lips after your moan slips out, and by the time he pulls away, you’ve soaked through your panties. You haven’t been kissed like that since your wedding day—the last time you saw him, when you did the thing you try so hard not to think about but always come back to when you’re alone in the tub with just enough time to rub one out in between supper and bathtime. The thing that changed everything and nothing at all.

“Here,” he says. “Take this.” He hands you a slip of paper with an address on it—some bougie D.C. neighborhood near Embassy Row. “I’ll be there Friday night and Saturday but Sunday morning I’m gone. No telling when I’ll be back. Do me a favor and make the right choice for once.” He grabs your face in his large hands and leans down to whisper, low and gravely, against your forehead. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

Before you have a chance to answer, a huge black Suburban with tinted windows pulls up and Lloyd hops in the passenger seat.

“See you soon, Porkchop,” he says, half hanging out the open window. “Tell the kid Daddy says hi.”

***

“Oh come on,” your roommate Shay begged. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”

You had zero desire to go to the Phoenix club party but it was Harvard-Yale weekend and the Crimson had absolutely slaughtered the Bulldogs that afternoon. Shay was dying to go and she’d been trying to drag you out for weeks.

“I won’t even get in,” you told her. “I’m just a freshman and I… I just won’t. It’ll be embarrassing.”

You didn’t tell her the real reason you didn’t want to go, which was that you packed on the freshman 15 and then some and you didn’t want to be the fat girl left out in the cold while your much thinner, much hotter roommate got into the party.

“Babe, they let all the girls in, and that goes double for freshmen.”

“And that’s supposed to make me want to go?” you replied. You knew the reputation that the finals club parties had on campus, and you knew it wasn’t the safest place for a drunk 18-year-old girl to be, especially on the night of The Game. “Those guys are so sketchy.”

“Yeah, but they have the best booze,” she said. “And we’ll watch out for each other. Come on, please?”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, but part of you couldn’t help but be curious about the legendary party scene at the clubs. And on Game Day? After a win? It was bound to be wild.

“Alright,” you agreed. “Just this once. But I’m not getting wasted. I’m considering this more of a sociological experiment.”

“Whatever gets you out the door, nerd,” she replied. “Now let’s find you something to wear that isn’t that ratty old hoodie and jeans.”

You were freezing cold and terribly uncomfortable in the dress and heels your roommate chose for you. The dress was stretchy enough to fit you but you didn’t consider it flattering. You told her as much but she assured you you looked great. 

“Your tits look incredible in that dress,” she insisted. “Seriously, I can’t look away.”

You took the compliment but you still felt exposed. You never wore tight clothes, preferring to hide your chub under layers of fabric or loose-fitting dresses. You’d always been a bigger girl but your first few months of college, even without being a heavy drinker, saw you tipping the scale much higher than ever before. The skin-tight green dress you were wearing was making you feel vulnerable and you could tell the discomfort was written all over your face. 

“It’ll be fine,” Shay promised you as you walked to the Phoenix.

You could hear the crowd two blocks away, so loud that the whooping and cheering and chanting of “Fuck Yale” could probably be heard all the way in New Haven, and when you rounded the corner onto Mt. Auburn, you saw the epic line.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, though the sound of the crowd drowned it out. 

The line to get in was around the block and then some, and it was almost all scantily clad girls, many of them freshmen you vaguely recognized. You saw the hot blonde from your psych class with a group of her equally hot friends at the front of the line being waved in by a guy at the door, and you saw him laugh in the faces of the two guys after them and send them on their way. 

“There’s no way we’re getting in. Let’s just go somewhere else,” you told Shay, but you were really more concerned that she would get in and you wouldn’t.

“We’re getting in,” she said, “and we’re not waiting on this fucking line either.”

Before you could argue, Shay was dragging you toward a girl about 10 people back in line.

“Hey, cousin!” Shay yelled, and she shoved her way into the line next to her cousin Maddie.

Maddie was a sophomore and had been hooking up with one of the Phoenix guys. You felt awful cutting the line, and the girls behind you were quite vocal about how pissed they were about it, but Maddie silenced them with a simple, “Hush, freshmen,” and before you knew it, you were standing at the door in front of the guy who held all the power. 

“Hey Mads,” he said. “See you brought some fresh meat.”

“This is my cousin and her roommate,” Maddie said. “Be nice”

The guy looked Shay up and down, clearly approving of her, but when he took a look at you, he started laughing. You almost ran away crying right then but you forced yourself to make eye contact and smile.

“Oh, Lloyd’s gonna love this one,” he said. “Entrez, mademoiselles. Down the rabbit hole you go.”

On your way down the stairs, you asked Maddie, “What was that supposed to mean? Who’s Lloyd?”

She just laughed. “Lloyd Hansen? The football player?”

“I’m not much of a sports fan,” you replied.

“Well he’s basically a god on the team, and he’s only a junior. But I’d stay away from him if I were you. He’s… well, I’ve heard some stories and none of them are good.”

You really did mean to heed her advice, you did, but two hours and several vodka cranberries later and you were drunker than you’d ever been in your life. You didn’t feel sick, just completely out of control, but you liked the feeling. You were always so buttoned up and guarded and it felt so fucking good to just let go for once. Shay stuck by your side as promised and the two of you danced and drank and danced and drank more.

You don’t know exactly when it happened—-you were out of it then and time has only muddled the memory further—-but at some point, you found yourself alone in the courtyard out back. You looked around for Shay but she was nowhere to be found. There was a group of guys nearby, and through the din and the ringing in your ears you could hear them laughing while one of them made oinking and squealing noises. You knew without knowing that they were laughing at you, and as you shoved your way through the crowd and back inside you heard one of them shout “Get ‘er done!”

It came on you suddenly—-that feeling that your bladder might burst. You needed to find a bathroom and quickly. You asked the person closest to you and she pointed in the direction of a huge line of girls.

“Fuck,” you shouted to no one, and then you felt a tap on your shoulder.

When you turned around, you were eye-level with the incredibly broad chest of one of the guys you’d seen outside.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said, and you looked up into the prettiest blue eyes you’d ever seen, framed by long lashes that most women would kill for. “You lost?”

“I… uh… my friend is…” you stammered, having trouble finding words with this beautiful guy towering over you. “I… is there another bathroom here?”

“Upstairs,” he said. “Members only, but I’ll make an exception for you.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the stairs. “Come with me.”

The ground floor of the Phoenix looked like some sort of Gilded Age mansion, probably because that’s exactly what it was. Every inch of the place reeked of old money. You followed the handsome, brown-haired stranger up to the second-floor hallway and he opened a door into a large, well-appointed bedroom.

“Master bathroom’s right through there,” he said. “It’s the nicest one in the house.” He cocked his head to look at you. “You’re not gonna puke, are you?”

“No,” you said. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good girl.”

It felt like ages before your bladder was finally empty. You used some expensive French lavender soap to wash your hands and dried them on a plush hand towel with the Phoenix insignia embroidered on it. When you exited the bathroom, the brunette was sitting on the four-poster bed sipping a honey-brown liquid from a crystal tumbler. His dress shirt was unbuttoned to his chest, his crimson tie hanging loose, and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow revealing thick, veiny forearms dusted with hair. You found yourself speechless and staring; he was gorgeous, tall and broad with a chiseled face and an athlete’s build. You had no idea what he was doing with you. 

“You want a drink, sweetheart?”

“I, uh, I shouldn’t,” you said. “I need to go find my friend.”

“Just one drink,” he said. “Come on. This whiskey is older than my dad. I promise you’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“I don’t really drink whiskey,” you replied, but he was already up, taking three long strides toward the bar cart in the corner.

The glass clinked three times as he dropped in ice cubes from a silver bucket, and you watched as he poured you three fingers of the liquid gold. You didn’t want it but you took it anyway. You didn’t even know him but some part of you—something deep-down and driven by primal instinct—didn’t want to disappoint him. The first sip burned like hell and you coughed after you swallowed.

“Easy, easy,” he said, rubbing your back with one of his large hands. He sat on the bed and patted the spot next to him.  “Come sit for a minute. Talk to me. I’m so fucking bored.”

You sat down next to him—close but not close enough to touch—and he watched as you pulled your skirt down where it was riding up. 

“So, uh, what’s your name?” you asked, braving another sip of the whiskey, which you had to admit was growing on you just as the heat in your belly was growing as you drank it.

“Uh, Lloyd Hansen?” he replied, sounding a bit miffed at the question. “You may have heard of me? I was the guy on the field today who knocked the Yale QB on his ass about a dozen times?”

You vaguely remembered hearing the name Lloyd Hansen but you didn’t remember where you’d heard it. You thought to yourself that it must have been someone talking about the game.

“Congratulations on the win,” you said. “I don’t really follow football but, you know, fuck Yale.”

That was the first time you heard Lloyd laugh, and he did it with his whole chest.

“Fuck Yale indeed,” he said. “And now that you know who I am, I want to know who you are and how you ended up at my party. I’ve never seen you around before. I would remember you.”

You told him your name, that you were a freshman and that you didn’t really go out much. You knew you sounded like a complete loser, but the alcohol was like a truth serum and you ended up telling him that you were more into studying than partying.

“So you really are a good girl, then?” he said, his hand inching closer to your thigh. The deep pitch of his voice was almost as intoxicating as the drink in your hand. “How refreshing.”

He placed his drink on the nightstand and moved closer to you.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and you nodded. “All the girls that come around here, they’re so fucking boring. So ordinary. Just a bunch of dumb bitches with rich and powerful parents who are only at Harvard to fuck around for four years and find a husband.” He ran his pointer finger down your thigh and toyed with the hem of your dress and you shivered as he leaned in close and spoke low in your ear. “But not you. You’re something special. I knew it the second I saw you.”

“I… I’m nobody,” you said. “I’m not special.”

His lips brushed the side of your neck and your eyes fluttered closed. “Yes,” he purred. “You are.”

Your memory gets hazy then. You remember Lloyd on top of you, kissing you and groping your tits through your dress. You don’t remember him taking it off you, or his clothes coming off, but you remember the feeling of your knees hitting the plush Persian rug as he pushed you down on the floor in front of him. He sat on the edge of the bed, long legs spread wide on either side of you as his fisted his cock in one hand and grabbed the back of your head with the other.

“You know how to suck a dick?” he asked, and you shook your head no.

You’d only ever given handjobs before and you’d never seen a dick as big or as thick as Lloyd’s. You were terrified. You didn’t know what you were doing and you didn’t really want to do it but, again, you couldn’t shake the feeling of not wanting to disappoint him. You didn’t want to be boring or ordinary. You wanted to be the girl he thought you were. You wanted to be special. 

“Open your mouth,” he demanded. “Stick your tongue all the way out.”

You did as he asked and he slapped your tongue with the head of his cock a few times before he told you to lick it. When you did, you tasted something salty—not exactly a bad taste, but strange.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl,” he said, gripping your head tighter. “Now wrap your lips around it. Yeah. Just like that. Fuck, I knew those dick-sucking lips of yours would feel good. Now open up your throat and breathe through your nose. I’m gonna fuck that pretty face of yours.”

He put his other hand on the back of your head and started to move you deeper onto his cock, and when he hit the back of your throat, you gagged and tried to pull away.

“Ah ah ah,” he said, “you can take it. Come on. Just relax.”

To this day, you don’t know how you didn’t throw up on him. He stood up and held your head in place as he fucked his way past your gag reflex and down into your throat over and over again, with fast harsh thrusts that had your mascara running rivers down your face and your own spit dripping down your chin onto your bare chest.

“That’s my good little cocksucker,” he said. “So fucking good for me. Look so pretty when you cry.”

Your nails dug into the hard muscle of his thighs as you let him use you, not knowing how long it was going to take or what exactly was supposed to happen. All you knew, looking up at him as he fucked your windpipe raw, was that he was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. The way his jaw clenched as he grunted, the deep V-cut that framed your face as he pushed and pulled you, the veins popping in his neck and his arms—-it was all too much. He was too much. The ache between your legs was getting unbearable and you took one of your hands off his leg and started to rub your clit.

“Oh, you love choking on my dick, huh? My pretty little slut’s gonna make herself cum with my fat cock down her throat, isn’t she?”

You moaned onto his flesh—his filthy, cruel words only making you want to please him more. You wanted to cum so badly but your own fingers just couldn’t get you there. You didn’t have enough time anyway, though, because Lloyd’s grip on your head tightened to the point of pain.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he said, pulling out of your burning throat and leaving you coughing and gasping for air. “Look up at me. I’m gonna paint that pretty face white. Open your fuckin mouth.”

You tried to keep eye contact with him but it was hard while you were still trying to catch your breath and keep from coughing.

“Look. At. Me,” he barked.

You stared into his lust-blown blue eyes as his mouth dropped open, his lips forming a perfect pink O as he huffed out air. Then you heard him grunt and you felt the first spurt hot against your cheek. The second one barely missed your eye but you kept them open, and he smirked down at you as he pressed the tip of his cock to your tongue and shot straight into the back of your throat. You gagged on it and swallowed and he laughed at you before gathering the cum off your face with his fingers and shoving them in your mouth.

“Clean your plate like a good little girl,” he said. “Come on. Suck.”

And you did, because the way he looked at you when you started to lick the cum off his fingers—there was something reverent about it, with more than a hint of amusement.

“I knew you’d be good,” he said when you’d licked him clean. “Fat chicks really do give the best head.”

You felt your cheeks blaze with embarrassment and shame and you would have started to cry if he hadn’t already fucked all the tears out of your face. You started to gather your clothes but he grabbed you by the arm and yanked you up off the floor. 

“Aww, don’t worry, Porkchop,” he said, pulling you against his bare chest. You looked up at him, horrified, but he wore a smug, satisfied smile as he ran his hands down your body, grabbing handfuls of flesh at your sides and your hips and finally taking two handfuls of ass. “Just means there’s more of you to love.”

“Get off me,” you cried, and you tried to push him back but he held you tight.

“Quit fucking struggling,” he snapped, his grip on you tightening to a bruising pressure. “You think I’m being mean? If you want mean, little girl, I can show you mean. But I’m dead serious. The guys make fun of me for it but I fucking love me a fat girl. Of course, I can’t actually be seen with one. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I fucking hate you, you asshole,” you screamed. “Let me go.”

“No,” he said, his mouth a hard line. “I’m not done with you, and you’re not done with me, but there are rules to this.”

“Fuck you and your rules. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

He grabbed your neck and pressed lightly on the sides, bringing his face down to yours—so close his lips grazed yours when he said, “You don’t really mean that, do you, Porkchop? It would be such a disappointment if you did.”

You opened your mouth to speak—-to scream or to cry you don’t know—-but he silenced you with a deep kiss. You hated yourself for returning it, for opening up for him and letting his cruel tongue inside. But fuck he felt good—-his lips and his hands and his rock-hard body. You never dreamed a guy like Lloyd would ever look twice at you. Even through your drunken haze, you knew you were being used—-that you were easy pickings for him that night and he took advantage of you—-but you didn’t care. He felt too fucking good for you to care. 

He made you cum on his fingers and his tongue three times that night before he kicked you out.

“Sorry, Porkchop. No girls in the house past sunrise. I’ll be seeing you real soon, though.”

You wanted to tell him he wouldn’t, that you’d just used him the way he used you. but you knew even then it was a lie. Any self-respect you had went out the window the moment you met Lloyd Hansen.

PART TWO >>>

#lloyd hansen fanfiction #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen #chris evans #chris evans characters #the gray man #special girl

[wc-confessions]

people put way too much faith into these books being progressive.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t hold media we consume to standards or that we shouldn’t encourage media to be antiracist, inclusive, challenging of social norms etc. but like this series was written in 2003 about cats that kill each other. if you look into it any farther they are colonists, kinda reminiscent of Native American stereotypes but in cat form, a poorly organized society, etc.. the writers have had many opportunities to create arcs and characters that could be examples of progressive ideals but they haven’t and (i’m sad to say) i doubt they ever will because the foundation they built this series on was not and they’re not willing to change that (perhaps to avoid upsetting the fan base or ignorance). Also as the arcs continue they get worse in terms of writing and don’t do anything to challenge the foundation they were built on (2003 the prophecies begin). at the same time, people in the fandom project puritan values onto the characters (such as ___ is pure evil for [insert small morally grey choice])

So while i’m sad canon seems like it will always be a time capsule to social norms that were and continue to be accepted, it creates a great opportunity for artists in the fandom to create work that speaks to them and their values and i think that’s great!

this is all to say it’s annoying to see fans say “this was super problematic sexist” “this cat sucks cause they’re ableist” and then analyze it in the context of the universe rather than as a reflection of the writers of the series and the beliefs/practices they perpetuate and uphold. If you are reading these books you should expect 1) morally grey choices because everyone that has ever existed is morally grey and that makes interesting characters and 2) problematic shit like the use of women as plot devices love interests/weird treatment of disabled cats/fatphobia… because the writers lowkey suck and don’t challenge beliefs they grew up in and that the books originally lived within. that doesn’t make it ok

sorry this was long lol

.

#anonymous #confession #text #warrior cats

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading updates: september 2023

AHOY EVERYBODY!!! the end of the month has really crept up on me and lo, I have no finished as many books as I thought I would by this point! but so it goes.

also I'm fighting for my life trying to get through all of the library books I have checked out, which is a bummer because there are a bunch of creepy books I want to start reading for Spooky Month! but time is an illusion and I've already made my peace with Spooky Month extending into November, so whatever happens happens, babey! but that's the future, right now we need to talk about what I've been reading for the past month.

A View from the Bottom: Asian American Masculinity and Sexual Representation (Nguyen Tan Hoang, 2014) - Nguyen's dissertation is a really fascinating piece of queer scholarship, which gets deep (pun somewhat intended) into forms of media often overlooked by academia - gay porn, softcore art films, gay indie documentaries - in search of a new understanding of Asian masculinity and bottomhood. I really like Nguyen's thoughtful study of bottoming, effeminacy, and sexual abjection, all of which he's pretty in favor of, balanced with analyses of the factors of race, class, nationality, and citizenship that complicate how gay Asian men are perceived. it's wide-ranging, it's meticulous, it's kind of hot? I love you, queers in academia.

"You Just Need to Lose Weight" and 19 Other Myths About Fat People (Aubrey Gordon, 2023) - god, okay, listen: this book was a little dry TO ME but ONLY BECAUSE I have already spent years listening to Aubrey Gordon discuss all 19 of these myths and a bunch of other shit on her excellent podcast, Maintenance Phase. if you don't listen to Maintenance Phase either start doing that or read this book! which is extremely well-researched and great for debunking pretty much every "justification" a person might off to try and make their fatphobia sound reasonable. frankly if I could load up copies of YJNTLW into, like, a t-shirt gun to just have on standby to fire at people, I would do that.

Sorry, Bro (Taleen Voskuni, 2023) - yeah you all already know about this book, which is the one in which a 27 year old brings the narrative to a screeching halt to assure the readers that it's okay for her to hook up with a 31 year old woman because despite the so-called age gap both of their brains are fully-cooked. that's not actually the worst part of this book; the worst part is that the prose is unpolished in the extreme and the main character is kind of a dumb asshole. cannot say I recommend it, no matter how desperate you may be for bisexual Armenian representation.

Brown and Gay in LA: The Lives of Immigrant Sons (Anthony Christian Ocampo, 2022) - I really like the way Ocampo writes his nonfiction, which is very chatty and extremely accessible (if a little prone to editorializing). I love seeing sociologists writing from the community the community they live in, and these interviews come from second generation queer Latino and Filipino men frequenting the same LA clubs and coffee shops as the gay second gen Filipino author. it kills the presumed spectator that a lot of writing on marginalized communities can fall victim to; here, it's not that brown gay men need to be explained, but rather outsiders who need to make the effort to keep up with their lives. I especially appreciated Ocampo's highlighting the disparity between Latino and Filipino men's experiences in education, where very different sets of racial stereotypes impact their ability to succeed in white-dominated school systems; if you're curious about why Latino and Filipino men are categorized together at all in this study I strongly recommend Ocampo's other book, the Latinos of Asia.

The Vanishing Half (Brit Bennett, 2020) - it's always kind of astonishing when something that was extremely hyped-up and buzzy turns out to actually be as good as all that, and the Vanishing Half really was that good. the premise of two light-skinned Black twins separating so that one can "pass over" and live her life as a white woman is compelling all on its own, but Bennett is so committed to every possible angle of this premise: what does it mean to live more than one life? what other ways are people more than one person? it shows up everywhere through this novel: in losing your twin, in transing your gender, in drag performances, in actors, in people moving to new towns where no one knows them and becoming someone else. the moment it really hit me that Bennet Got It was a completely innocuous sentence that identified a Korean restaurant owner in California as a man who had attended medical school in Korea - even this background character, who we'll hardly hear from again, has been a different person in a different life! everyone has these layers and layers and different sides of themselves and it's just beautifully executed. mwah. chef's kiss.

#reading updates

[funpuddle]

By all means if you can't manage to boycott McDonald's you're an idiot but i saw people be really brave (cruel) saying Everyone should be able to live without fast food as if everyone has a fucking fridge or microwave or stove or home. One of those awesome (frustrating) moments when you get to see some leftists don't give a fuck about anything except the performance and can't fathom the most mildest activism without a script

Just REALLY cool that peoples over the top aversion towards fast food is based in classism and fatphobia but never the fact that its being utilized as a tool to kill off the poor that aren't able to afford or store ingredients. Apparently that last part is fine to most people.

[cutepastelstarsalior]

Helluva Boss watch though part 2

Episode 3

Blitzo has an ex, and he also has a sister. 👀

Verosika. That like a weird mashup of Veronica and Vriska….But she was in rehab?

Ok Veroskia’s design is so pretty. But man she and Blitzo do not look like there from the same universe. Made it’s the color palette, or the lineart, it they kind of collide.

Oh, she’s a succubs. Neat.

Loona has a human disguise? Do all Hellhounds have one, or just her? 

Verosika human design is very pretty.

Loona having a crush on Vortex is cute. But man Loona human design is god awful when she’s standing next to Vortex. Her head is too big in some frames, and her anatomy looks off.

Moxxie and Millie team name is M&M, that’s cute.

Oh, Blitzo adopted Loona, who was almost 18 and almost aged out of the orphanage. Interesting choice. I wonder when that decision was made from the pilot to the actual show? Because in the pilot, Loona was just a snarky rude teenager receptionist. Here in the show, she insincure angry teenager.

So human alcohol can make imps drunk, but demon alcohol can make animals into violent mutants monsters..cool.

Vortex has a girlfriend, but it’s cool that he wants to help Loona make some friends!

Scale of 5, I give this a 3. It was just an ok episode.

Episode 4

Ok this version of heaven is very different then the Hazbin heaven. Maybe this is because this show was created when Hazbin was still a pilot? But there a a Cherub version of the Imps. AKA 3 angels trying to save people’s love ones. Ok that a cool premiere! Assassin group vs rescue (?) group!

Oh seems like Blitzo’s sister is his twin! Again, are they human that turn Imp or a hell-born demon?? It’s also cool how in the background they show small but important details. Like in a few episodes ago, they had a bunch of ads and poster of Fizz the clown robot.

Heheh her name is a play on barwire.

There 3 trilionaires in the human world??

Blitzo does have a point, when they kill somebody for hire, the victim gets sent to hell. Why is that? If it’s like a murder and the victim wants revenge that’s understandable. But in this case, the client wanted to kill the guy because he doesn’t want the person to have the inheritance. Why would that make the potential victim be sent to hell? Why would the clients want the people to be in hell anyway? To physically torment them? Like the episode where the teacher wanted to kill the girlfriend, what would she do once the girlfriend is in hell? Kill her again? Torment her?

Idk why, maybe it’s the lighting, or maybe it’s because Blitzo out makeup on, but in this episode he’s like a weird pale pink color then his normal red. I noticed this too with Moxxie in the beach episode. It’s kind of distracting.

Little pet peeve; I feel like there too much cursing? Like I can toon it out, but still. That and the causal fatphobia, sexism, and slur shaming..😬

Seeing 2 out of the 3 cherubs getting angry and curing, make me wish that when an Angel starts to do that, they start to fall. That the hate and stress corrupt them. It would be so cool to see.

Oh!!!!!! OMG the cherubs accidentally killed the old man, and now can’t be allowed back in heaven!!! Though the little deer girl didn’t actually explain what the rules are? BUT JUSTICE FOR LITTLE GOAT BOY HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG HE WASNT STARTING TO GET CORRUPTED. Goat boy is my son now. And I’m taking him as mine now.

Scale out of 5. I give it a 5. I love this episode, it shows a deeper worldbuilding of how heaven and hell operates and how both sides try to get humans on their side.

Episode 5

Ok, so the deal Stolas and Blitzo had was about having casual sex. Thought Blitzo can’t really do his job without the grimoire, but neither can Stolas. So what does it do?

Blitzo’s co-workers are from the ring of Wrath. 👀 interesting.

Yooooooo Millie’s parents!!!! Oooooo a lore episode. Ok so Millie has parents, so I guess Imps are born in hell? Then what’s the difference, the physical differences, between a human turn demon, and an Imp? Maybe it’s the white spots/marked they have??

Moxxie infodumping about war and the history is cute.

Millie moved to Imp City. I guess that’s either the capital of the ring they stay at, or like an area only for Imp???

In Dante’s Infero, Wrath is the 5th circle of hell. There 2 groups of sinner in this circus, those who anger is expressed, and thoese who anger is internal/repressed (sullen). The groups have different punishment. Thoese who express their anger fight one another on the surface/side banks of the Styx, and the repressed are underneath the river Styx, in the swampy mud.

What Vivzie does here is have the Imps play games an annual Pain Game. I’m getting the Imps here are just farmers??

Moxxie feeling insecure about not being physically strong is neat. I like his and Strikers dynamic.

Blitzo having some insecurities is odd, idk if feels way out of left field? But Striker does have a point, why does Blitzo stay or keep going back to Stolas if he needs the book? Can’t he find a different way to get to the human realm?

👀 stolas’s wife hired Striker to kill somebody. My guess it’s Blitzo, since I don’t think She would kill her husband, and especially not tell her plans when they’re at the dinner table.

Score out of 5, I give this a 4.

Episode 6

So the government as been noticing and keeping track of the Imps. 👀. Blitzo and Moxxie were kidnapping and Millie became extremely overprotective and while Loona was concerned. Nice that the girls are going to help.

Moxxie making an extra long and complicated code order, and then laughing at the humans and just being chill, is a bit odd. I’m use to him either being angry, insecure, or being empathetic. So seeing this side of him is new. Also, I feels like Blitzo, Stolas, and Moxxie and the ones that have the most screen time/character development.

“I’m like 5 years older than you”. If Lonna is 18, that means Millie would be 23???? Idk if that’s true or not but if it is….WHAT?????

👀 yoooo higher animation for the hallucinations scenes!!!

Ok, wow. I love this?? Moxxie hallucinations is him and Blitzo dress as phantom of the opera, and Moxxie is questioning his “friendship” with Blitzo. Asking him why he keeps pushing his friends away, why he alienates other with his toxicity. Meanwhile Blitzo is dress in a clown outfit, in the mud, seeing shapes. The hallucinations of Moxxie telling him that Blitzo needs him and that he doesn’t want to be alone. He also hallucinations Striker, Fizz, and his ex. Saying that people resent him. And that he doesn’t understand relationships but also craves it. Moxxie wants to speak his mind and be a better friend to Blitzo.

After they hallucinate, Moxxie tells Blitzo what he said to Moxxie on their first day together. Blitzo also compliments Moxxie and tell him to use his name instead of sir.

This is a sweet bonding between the two. I don’t know how to feel about it though? Like it feels like progress and to make the two characters that fight and argue at lot to finally come together…But at the same time, it feels a bit too soon? I don’t know…

The fight scenes are very good! Lots of camera movements, fluid animation, and fun angles. Thought at some parts when there wasn’t that many characters and it only focused on one person, the space of the room felt too big and the animation felt slow.

“HEY THE ENDO PERIOD WAS BADASS AND YOU KNOW IT” haha nice.

Uno oh spaghetti O….the gang is traps by the two governments agents……and they….cant get out with the book because the room is too dark? Seriously. Guys, there like, 4 of you and 2 of them. You literally massacred a room full of agents…

Oh well, Stolas came and save the day. That little horror scene is neat, I like his monster demon bird form. But also how did he knew what was happening????

Oh…Blitzo kissed Stolas…are they a thing? Just friends with benefits? I don’t ship them so I don’t care. Well, besides Stolas’s cheating.

Dang the government guys have evidence now!!!

Score out of 5. I give this a 3. The fights and hallucinations scenes were cool, but that all that was interesting.

Episode 7

For some reason this episode is title as final but there also an episode 8?????

!!!! Well dang, Blitzo is having a character growth. He acting nicer to Moxxie and Millie. Also, it’s Moxxiea and Millie anniversary! Demons can get married. They’re also going to the Lust ring.

In Dante’s inferno, Lust is the second ring, but the first sin. Sinners are punished by being whipped and hurled around tornado and violent winds. Dante also thinks lust is the least serious sin. Also King Minos is a demon who judge and listens to sinners and send them to their correct circle. Btw, Dante infero hell has 9 circles; Limbo, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Anger, Hersey, Violence, Fraud, and lastly Treachery.

In the Christian mythology, the seven sins are lust, pride, greed, gluttony, sloth, wrath, and lastly envy.

It’s interesting to see how Viv will combine or different the seven sins vs Dante inferno…

“Boring as fuck monogamy” 👀 Blitzo polyamorous real.

Blitzo asking Stolas out of a date, just to spy on Moxxie and Millie, but then end up actually talking to Stolas, is interesting. I just the having a slow burn from friends with benefits to being an actual couple??

ALEX WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE????

Fizzarolli…..that’s his name….baby why does your name sound like a weird soda or pizza knockoff???

Why does Fizz have robots of him? Also the one at LULU Land made more money entertaining kids than the robots that do sex work. Interesting. Also are all the robots alive??? Are they a hive mind???

Moxxie sing a song he wrote for Millie is cute. To bad fizz and Ozzie interrupt him…Asmodeus is the embodiment of lust. So is he a prince/represent of lust??? Also I heard a few covers of this song…and this is like literally the only sing from this show I enjoy.

Ozzie commenting that Stolas gave up his life, his kid and wife to be with Blitzo. Yeah. Like the dude literally cheated on his wife??? Why is the show trying to make us feel sympathy for Stolas??? Dude a homewreaker.

Aromantic Ozzie. To MEEEE.

“Octavia is with her mother this weekend” 👀 oh they did get a divorce!!! Got for them. Well, like, not. But I’m glad they decided to end it instead of staying together and keep fighting every day. I guess Stolas can now try to be with Blitzo since he and his wife broke up?? But I still think it’s not good..

Scale out of 5. I give it a 2.

#my thoughts #helluva boss #long post #review #helluvaverse #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism

[tsunflowers]

when I posted some pages from "walking practice" by dolki min a couple people said the writing style seemed really annoying. if that was you then don't read it. also if you would be annoyed to death by opening a book to this spread don't read it

it was originally self-published in Korean which I think explains a lot about the prose and stylistic choices made. even reading this in English but digitally would have made a huge difference, I think. but I personally enjoyed it

the book is about an alien stranded on earth who survives by meeting people on hookup apps and then eating them. it has to break all its bones and reset them in order to shapeshift into a human form and then it's a constant struggle to stop its eyes from popping out or its limbs from dragging. it has trouble walking let alone blending into human society and it particularly talks a lot about how difficult it is to pass when presenting as a woman. there's very little dialogue and it's mostly the alien's monologue directed to the reader about how it's disgusted by both humans and itself. it craves intimacy and companionship so it keeps having sex with humans but they're the only thing on the planet it can eat so it keeps killing them

if you like that vibe of a creature that can't ever separate sex and attraction from killing and eating then I think you should check it out. it's a weird and funny and gross book. it also has ten or so of these striking illustrations by the author scattered throughout

cw for the general premise but also fatphobia (the alien hooks up with a fat person and while it has a positive experience with them it's even weirder about their body than it is about most humans) and gaybashing (not described as such and I don't think any slurs were used but the alien goes to hook up with a man using a male body and the man and his friends jump it)

#my book review corner

[guiltyidealist]

Body count.

Hidden but insidious little piece of fatphobia:

you cannot find a single fucking page on INCREASING your appetite. On coping, struggling with a LOW appetite. Having a lowered appetite. On managing your health when your appetite is low. On how to get yourself to eat and NOURISH MORE. more efficiently, more FREQUENTLY.

By which I don't mean "how to gain weight" but by which I mean how to MAINTAIN A WEIGHT that's healthy for you. or more specifically, how to nourish SUSTAINABLY. over the LONG-term. How make sure you nourish and KEEP nourishing CONSISTENTLY. How to maintain your health in spite of an appetite that is too low.

Hell. even just what it means for your appetite to be low, how to TELL if your appetite is LOWER than is HEALTHY for you. the consequences and problems people face when they have a low appetite. the RISKS and DANGERS of a low appetite.

Because every fucking search result is

how to gain weight (muscle)

how to eat more foods that don't make you gain weight (fat) as fast as other foods

Tragedy Strikes: the Misfortune of Fat & How to Protect Your Precious Soul from Falling Victim to This Cruel Fate😢

how to lose weight (fat) (new fad diet for starvation and you will have a net loss of 0 lbs or less by the time 5 years elapses)

how not to lose weight (muscle)

how to eat less how to fucking starve how to deprive yourself the little things and be miserable and fucking die

if I eat too fast I'll feel nauseous. As a result, I graze over longer stretches throughout the day (er I did, before meds changes slaughtered my appetite).

People were always fucking like "ah! I hear that's better for you anyway😊"

by which they fucking mean "To my understanding, that eating pattern facilitates weight loss a bit more than normal patterns do, therefore it is superior because weight and supremacy are inverse correlates😊"

Nowadays I don't eat that way because my appetite is really fucking low. Today I managed a bowl of oyster crackers, an applesauce, some carrots, a piece of cornbread, a few pepperonis, and a scoop of cookie bake.

Plus x2 cans of Mountain Dew (my usual daily caffeine intake is maybe 1 glass of Coke), because I have to pass this final semester at the expense of my body.

Fuck I did not even realize how jack shit I ate today until I listed that out. With that combination it's really not a wonder that my whole digestive tract has been fucked for like 3 weeks straight now. On top of that I'm not getting ample nourishment, neither in nutrient nor caloric terms.

Low appetite is a problem.

and nobody cares. Nobody cares! Nobody fucking cares. You know why? Because this problem results in weight loss. See high appetite on the other hand, that causes weight gain, so you understand all energies must be allocated toward solving that problem🙂.

Noooo low appetite is a gift! A blessing!!! A privilege!!!!! God I wish that were me!!!!!!!!

How to lower your appetite!! 3 Vitamins that will lower your appetite!! Lower your appetite with these 15 yummy recipes!

6 easy ways to shame yourself for having wants and needs! How to stave off hunger and ignore your body's signaling of needs! How to replace the sound of your body calling you to action with blaring fad diet commercials. How to convert your body's begging for its life into an incessant and intrusive need to self-sabotage instead.

How to dissociate from your body and fixate upon doing the opposite of what it needs to stay alive. How to fret over whether or not you moved enough in the last 24 hours. How to take the energy out of every day to meticulously COUNT every single piece of material you dArE put in your body. How to count your body. How to develop one or more of the MOST DEADLY mental illnesses. How to wind up having the sole variety of mental illness that fucking kills you whether you wanted to die or not

How to tally the body count

#rant #vent #sorry #the entire. everything after the '' low appetite is a fucking problem'' text is /s #disordered eating tw #ed tw #suicide tw #starvation tw #eating tw #low appetite #fatphobia #weight-shaming #diet culture #eating disorders #ocd #Adderall #adhd #fixation #obsession