The convention hall shimmered with an electric buzz, a cacophony of cheers, laughter, and the sporadic crackle of camera flashes. Banners depicting beloved characters hung from the vaulted ceiling like the standards of a kingdom, while an endless sea of cosplayers moved beneath it, each radiating their unique artistry. The air smelled faintly of fresh foam, fabric glue, and the sweet temptation of buttered popcorn from nearby food trucks. It was a world of fantasy made real—an epic collision of imagination and craft.
Lena adjusted the silver tiara on her head, her fingers trembling slightly. The glass-like jewels embedded in the crown caught the fluorescent lights above, casting tiny rainbows on her cheeks. Her deep crimson ball gown, stitched with painstaking care, swayed as she moved, its layered skirts flowing like spilled wine. Shimmering hand-painted designs swirled across the bodice, resembling fiery glyphs from some ancient lost kingdom. The velvet gloves encasing her hands were snug, a bit too snug, but Lena found herself tugging at them for comfort.
She stood before an ornate, mirror-like fountain nestled in the center of the hall’s lobby. Crowds milled around her, their laughter muted in her apprehensive mind. Her reflection stared back—her curvy frame wrapped in the telling folds of the gown, her black curls cascading down her shoulders like waves in a storm. Her brown eyes wavered, unsure of the vision staring back at her.
Could someone like her—a girl with thick thighs and a round belly—be a queen?
One Hour Earlier
“You look incredible, Lena,” her best friend Damien had said, practically vibrating with excitement as he adjusted the faux goggles perched on his head. His fur-lined, steampunk vest clung to his muscular torso, contrasted by a haphazard collection of brass gears dangling from his belt. “Seriously, you’re gonna blow everyone away with this.”
“Or… they’re going to laugh,” Lena had muttered as she packed her glitter-encrusted staff into the backseat of his beat-up car. “You’ve seen the posts online. People are brutal to plus-sized girls who cosplay.”
Damien tilted his head, his expression hardening. “Who cares about them? They don’t get it—cosplay isn’t about being ‘perfect.’ It’s about passion. You’re literally flawless, Lena. Own it. And if anyone gives you trouble, I’ve got a prop wrench, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Their laughter had carried them through the drive, but now, standing alone amid the bustling crowd, Lena wished Damien’s words felt as true as they had earlier. He’d gone off on a coffee run, leaving her to fend for herself amidst a tide of cosplayers: slender elves with flowing capes, sculpted warriors with detailed armor, and high-heeled villains with impossible thigh slits.
They were breathtaking—and many of them didn’t spare her a second glance.
The Challenge
Lena stepped away from the fountain, her staff clutched tightly in one hand. She scanned her surroundings, the applause from nearby cosplay contests ringing in her ears. She wasn’t stupid; she knew there were people judging her from across the room. A few whispers spiraled by her like poisoned arrows: “That dress would look better on someone thinner.” “She’s trying too hard.”
Her knuckles whitened around the staff. Every fiber in her being pleaded for her to run, to shed the gown and crown and blend into the safety of the crowd in jeans and a hoodie. But then she heard a small, high-pitched voice.
“Wow, I love your dress!”
Lena turned to find a young girl, perhaps seven or eight, staring up at her with wide eyes. The child was dressed as a forest fairy, complete with cardboard wings lined in glitter. Her expression brimmed with awe. “You’re like a real queen!”
A lump formed in Lena’s throat. She glanced down at the girl, her painted nails gleaming against the handle of her staff. “Thank you,” Lena said softly. Her voice faltered but was genuine. “That… that means a lot.”
“Can I take a picture with you?” the girl asked, already tugging her mother over.
“Of course!” Lena replied, kneeling to the girl’s level. The fabric of her gown fanned dramatically around her, and for the first time that day, she didn’t care if it made her look bigger.
Camera flashes erupted one by one. Before long, more people began to gather—some children, some adults. Strangers asked for pictures, complimenting her craftsmanship. One person even squealed, “Is that the Radiant Queen from Falselight Chronicles? That’s my favorite game! You nailed it!”
The Radiant Moment
When Damien finally returned, juggling two cups of overfilled iced coffee, he let out a low whistle. “Look at you, Your Majesty—holding court!”
“Shut up, Damien,” Lena said, but she was beaming. Her cheeks ached from smiling.
Hours passed in a blur of photos, laughter, and shared love for characters and worlds that had shaped so many lives. By the time the cosplay contest began, Lena almost didn’t care about entering. Almost. Something had grown inside her—a seedling of confidence, buoyed not by perfection but by connection.
When her name was called as a finalist, Lena felt tears sting her eyes. She strode onto the stage, chin held high, as chants of “Radiant Queen!” filled the air. Her gown sparkled under the stage lights, her curves a bold, unapologetic statement against the backdrop of a colossal screen displaying fantastical landscapes behind her.
The crown they placed on her head as they announced her the winner wasn’t the cheap plastic one from her cosplay; it was gilded and heavy, biting into her scalp in the most wonderful way.
For the first time, Lena truly felt like the queen she had dressed up to be.
The Source…check out the article that inspired this amazing short story: Can plus size girls cosplay?
Disclaimer: This article may contain affiliate links. If you click on these links and make a purchase, we may receive a commission at no additional cost to you. Our recommendations and reviews are always independent and objective, aiming to provide you with the best information and resources.
Exclusive Stories, Photos, Art & Offers - Subscribe Today!
Post Comment