can i talk my shit again. yall love fat people when theyre like 200 lbs and “somft” but can we get some positivity posts for people who are like 400 and having trouble getting off the floor. who have tried everything and cant drop more than 20 pounds. yes fat people are beautiful and awesome but can we talk about 4/5x more instead of just xxl. for the love of god. can we talk about those of us who cant get merch of our favorite creators bc it only goes up to 3x.
CAN WE TALK ABOUT STILL FINDING YOURSELF PRETTY AS A FAT PERSON. CAN WE TALK ABOUT BEING 375 AND CUTE AS SHIT BUT EVERYONES FUCKING PUT OFF BY YOU. CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT. IM FUCKING. THIS IS PERSONAL TO ME
Yes. Exactly fucking this. We live in a society. Larger fat people are treated like toxic sludge despite being cute and wonderful and funny and (not even needing to be all these things I’m just saying, yanno, larger fat people are WORTHY FUCKING HUMAN BEINGS THE SAME AS THE THINS OR LESSER FATS)
Here’s some amazing brands that are size inclusive. (This is not an ad. I am not affiliated with these people. They don’t know I exist. They’re just size inclusive brands.)
aww thanks for adding me!! id like to suggest snagtights for tights and some undies + apparel that go to i think a 5 or 6x iirc and smartglamour which goes to 10x and does custom sizing!
the woman in the river shows me an axe of silver and asks if it is the one I lost. I respond that it is. she produces an axe of gold and asks the same question again. I shamefully look away, not sure whether I’m comfortable admitting that I was dual wielding
she stares at me in abject confusion as I take stock of my tools. a look of dissatisfaction brews on her face. “but why is one golden?” the woman asks.
I tug nervously at my coat, feeling the slightest bit insulted. “well, it’s not cheap to have a matching pair,” I tell her. “not everyone can afford two golden axes.”
“why not two silver axes?”
“I had the money for one golden axe.”
the woman crosses her arms. “but the gold is worse for everything you’d want an axe to do.”
“it’s not. it was more expensive and also really hard to find.”
“gold” she says, “is softer than silver.”
“it’s literally not, though,” I say. “that’s a really common misconception, but pure silver is softer than gold.”
“most metal sold as silver is actually an alloy. that axe is probably sterling silver. I don’t believe for a second someone made you a pure silver axe.”
I look at my axe, then back to the woman, then back to my axe.
“it was pure silver when it went into the river.”
an unreadable expression. with a great splash, the woman disappears into the current.
for three days and three nights, I wander along the river’s edge, hoping to find the woman again. I throw rocks, twigs, and once or twice a weird looking animal into the water. it’s all to no avail.
on the final evening, I see a glint at the river’s mouth. I run as quickly as I can, knowing I’ve finally found… oh for fuck’s sake, it’s just silver-plated. I lob the awful thing into the river with a huff.
“how can you tell?” asks the woman, peeking out of the water. “that could be the one you’ve lost.”
“it’s not.”
“but you won’t cut your losses and move on,” she gestures wide, “one axe the richer?”
“that’s too wide of a gesture for a cheap knick knack,” I say, gesturing modestly in some approximation of how much I think the silver-plated axe is worth. the woman seems annoyed.
“I’ve been telling you, you have your real axe. the gold axe is the one that sucks.”
“so what?” I spit. “are you suggesting I just use two cheap silver axes instead of my cool pure silver and gold axes?”
