#What is danger of Obesity?

[sweetheartflorish]

What is danger of Obesity?

  Understanding Obesity and its Impact on Health Introduction: Obesity has end up a main public fitness difficulty worldwide, affecting humans of all ages, genders, and socio-economic backgrounds. This subject matter will discover the causes, consequences, and administration of obesity, as nicely as its have an impact on on typical health. Definition of weight problems and its causes: a.…

[ceyhanmedya]

Obesity Limit by Age 2023

New Post has been published on https://bankakredin.com/obesity-limit-by-age-2023/

Obesity Limit by Age 2023

For a healthy life, the body weight must be within the limits suitable for the body mass index. As the person moves away from healthy values, the risk of disease increases and the comfort of life decreases, regardless of age. Obesity is the disease of the age with increasing fast-food style nutrition and decreasing movement around the world. Increasing fast-food consumption increases lubrication and causes the person’s body weight to be outside the limits that should be according to height and age. Adults and children who have reached the point of obesity should be treated as soon as possible. You ask, “How many kilos is the obesity limit for age?” If you are wondering the answer to the question, you can take a look at the details.

What is Obesity? What Weight Does Obesity Start From?

Obesity is the accumulation of too much fat in the body to affect the metabolism. A person is considered obese if their weight is higher than their body area. The Body Mass Index value is used to determine obesity in adults. This value, which is calculated by dividing the body weight by the square of the height in centimeters, indicates obesity when it is 30 kg/m2 and above. Obesity can be evaluated not as weight, but by the ratio of the weight to the height of the person. In children, obesity is calculated with standard growth charts, not BMI. In order to find the obesity value, the child’s age and height are found from the chart and it is checked at what age the height corresponds to the 50p value. From the age-based weight chart opened for the age reached, the percentile of the weight for the age, that is, the p value, is checked.

Obesity Values ​​in Children

Obesity age and weight limit in children is not the same as in adults. Height, weight, and body mass index charts for boys and girls vary in children. Obesity in children can be understood with two methods. The first method is to find the p value of the body mass index according to age by opening the BMI percentile scale for age after the body mass index is calculated. If the value is 95p and above, obesity is considered. The second method is calculated over the weight value according to the height age. Obesity is considered to be 97p and above when looking at the weight according to the height and age of 95p and above. With this method, the following steps can be followed for obesity calculation:

The age-height percentile chart is opened according to the gender of the child.

The age at which the height corresponds to the value of 50p is found and noted.

The age found is the age of height.

The weight percentile chart is opened according to the age of the child.

The age of height is found and it is noted which p-value corresponds to the weight.

If the result is 97p or higher, it is considered obesity and an expert opinion is required.

Obesity Values ​​in Adolescents

It would be wrong to ask the question of what is the obesity weight limit in adolescents as in children. According to the World Health Organization, adolescence covers the ages of 10-19. Obesity in adolescents is calculated as in children, and the accepted values ​​for obesity are as follows:

95p and above in boys based on BMI:

10 years: 22.5 kg/m2

11 years: 24.5 kg/m2

12 years: 26.0 kg/m2

13 years: 26.5 kg/m2

14 years: 27.0 kg/m2

15 years: 27.6 kg/m2

16 years: 28.2 kg/m2

17 years: 28.8 kg/m2

18 years: 29.4 kg/m2

For girls, 95p and above based on BMI:

10 years: 22.6 kg/m2

11 years: 23.8 kg/m2

12 years: 24.8 kg/m2

13 years: 25.4 kg/m2

14 years: 25.8 kg/m2

15 years: 26.0 kg/m2

16 years: 26.1 kg/m2

17 years: 26.2 kg/m2

18 years: 26.1 kg/m2

Obesity Values ​​in Adults

Those with a body mass index of 30 and above are considered obese. But obesity is also divided into levels within itself. 30-34.99 kg/m2 BMI indicates 1st degree obesity, 35-39.99 kg/m2 BMI indicates 2nd degree obesity, and 40 kg/m2 and above BMI indicates 3rd degree obesity. As the obesity value increases, the risk of disease also increases. It can cause heart diseases, stroke, type 2 diabetes, some cancers, gallbladder diseases, sleep apnea, calcifications. The treatment of the resulting health problems becomes even more difficult in obesity.

Risk of Obesity-Related Disease Occurrence in Adults

While measuring the risk for health in obesity, waist circumference and hip circumference are taken into account. A waist circumference of 88 cm or more in women and a waist circumference of 102 cm or more in men means that weight is risky for health. Another risk factor indicator is the waist to hip ratio. If waist/hip is more than 0.85 in women and more than 1.0 in men, it means android type, that is, male type obesity. Android type obesity increases the risk of developing diseases and reduces the chance of treatment.

What are Obesity Treatment Methods?

Fat loss is the basis of obesity treatment. For fat loss, the person needs to get rid of the excess weight in his body. Vital changes such as increasing physical activity, reducing calorie intake, and choosing healthy foods help weight loss, but sometimes these methods alone are not enough in obesity. The methods applied by the person himself may prolong the process or fail. Various methods can be used for weight loss, but these methods must be selected and applied by specialist physicians and dietitians. Methods applied by experts include diets and bariatric surgery. The method to be used is determined according to the person and the most appropriate method is selected according to the needs of the person by making appropriate analyzes by the specialist doctor staff.

Weight Loss with a Healthy Eating Plan

One of the most used obesity treatment methods is healthy nutrition lists applied with a dietitian. With diets, weight loss of 5% to 10% of the initial weight is expected within 6 months. By creating calorie deficits in nutrition plans, the weight loss process begins with exercise support. It is possible to lose weight slowly and healthily with the diet lists given to the person. However, diet can be a difficult and motivational method for some people. In such people, if the doctor deems it appropriate, obesity surgery is directed.

Bariatric Surgery

Weight loss is achieved through surgery in people with serious health problems who cannot diet or cannot achieve the desired result with obesity surgery . The surgical method applied is  gastric bypass  surgery. With this surgical procedure, also known as Roux-en-Y, the stomach is surgically reduced, but while food intake is reduced, nutrient absorption from the intestines is also reduced. Gastric bypass is divided into types in itself. One of them is  sleeve gastrectomy  , also known as sleeve gastrectomy. Thanks to bariatric surgery, the person loses 75% of their weight within 1 year after the operation, and thanks to the shrinking stomach volume, they gain early satiety and gains in some diseases thanks to the weight they lose.

The problem of obesity, which carries a health risk, is a disease that is increasing day by day and treatment methods are developing. By finding the appropriate treatment method, plans should be created according to the person and it should be ensured that the person regains his/her health in the most correct way. Obesity can occur not only in adulthood but also in childhood and adolescence. It is wrong to believe that children will get weaker as they get older. If obesity is present at an early age, it is important to consult a specialist and start the treatment with the most appropriate method when treatment is necessary in order to prevent health risks that may occur in the future of children.

Medical Park, with its 27 hospitals in Turkey, helps people in the treatment of obesity and treats obesity patients with advanced surgical and medical methods. If you think you or your child has an obesity problem, you can make an appointment and be examined.

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[feralwifey]

I love that I give my dog raw bones and even more I love telling other dog owners about it especially those who feed pedigree which has sugar in it 😊

[q-kanbas]

Ok it's probably going to get some people very mad at me but there's a massive difference between wanting people to respect those who are overweight or obese and blatantly ignoring the scientific method and literally everything medical science has been studying for decades.

Just because literal decades of well researched science says something you don't like doesn't mean it's wrong. It's just something you don't want to hear.

[love-me-love-my-weirdness]

I think the reason why people want to know what's "wrong" with disabled people is because they want to reassure themselves.

They want you to say you were in a horrific accident or that you have a well known and treatable disease because they think they can stop it happening to them.

They think their health is a given because they aren't a dangerous driver/ an alcoholic/a drug user/obese/an unhealthy eater etc. Obviously this isn't true but it's easier for them to think of it like that.

Until one day they meet someone who did nothing. They're not really asking "what's wrong with you". They're asking "what went wrong" because they think they can avoid it.

So when they meet someone who made all the right choices, who was healthy, who was safe and one day woke up sick and never got better, it scares them because some part of them realises that it could happen to them.

They can exercise and eat a balanced diet and be as careful as possible and it doesn't do a thing and they can't do a thing about it. That terrifies able bodied people.

People like to look for something or someone to blame and they hate it when there's nothing there.

[mrfoox]

Help, I don't think I've met another person with these many exceptions in their views ajnsnfjskajsjfk

[inkskinned]

no, but really, we need to talk about the casual objectification that has become the fallback discourse of the internet: if you're pretty and dressed nicely, you're a slut. and if you're even vaguely outside of their body standard, you're fucking disgusting.

too-frequently, people position sex workers as being "the problem". they sneer you're addicted to pornography, you don't know what a real woman looks like. but real women are in pornography. the real bodies on display are not the issue here: the issue is that other people feel extremely confident when commenting on someone's physique.

2000's super-thin is slowly worming its way back into the public ideal. recently i saw someone get told to "go for a run", despite the fact she was on the thinner side of average. not that it would ever be appropriate to say that: but it's kind of like sticker shock when you see it. people think that is fat? holy shit. do they just have no idea about things?

but what are you going to do about it? that's the problem, right. because chances are - you're a normal person. we can say normalize carrying fat on your body, but we are not the billion-dollar diet industry. we are not the billion-dollar fashion industry. we are just, like. people. who are trying to make content on the internet, without being treated shittily.

as someone who has been on both sides of things: you are treated better when you are thin and pretty. this is statistically correct. i am not saying that you cannot be bullied for being thin; i'm saying there are objective institutional biases against certain bodytypes. there are videos of men and women who lost weight all saying: i now know for a fact exactly how much worse you're treated. in the comments, some asshole inevitably says something akin to you deserved to be dehumanized when you were fat.

which means that ... the easiest thing to do is be pretty and thin. it is the path of least resistance, because of course it is, because any time you post a picture of yourself without a thigh gap, someone immediately comments something like you need to try a diet.

the other half is also dehumanizing though, huh, just in a different way. when i put on makeup and nice clothes, i am told i slept my way to the top as a professional. do you know how many women in STEM have told me they purposefully dress to "unimpress" because they already struggle to be taken seriously and if they're ever considered pretty - it for some reason takes away from their authority.

so they make it seem like it's your fault. you, existing in a body - it's your fault! if you didn't want shitty comments, don't have a body. they position us against each other like chess pieces; vying for male attention we don't even need.

and i can be an authority on this unless you think i'm fat and unattractive. when i am pretty and thin, i'm an activist. when i am just a normal person who makes a good point: i am immediately dismissed. nobody fucking believes you if you're not seen as attractive. you literally lose value. you cease to exist.

but the whole time, it feels like - is anyone actually grounded the fuck in reality? the line of "pretty and thin" keeps shifting. nobody seems to understand what "a normal weight" even looks like, because it's not something that exists - you cannot tell a person's health by looking at their body. even if you think you could tell that, even if you're sure a person is dangerously overweight - people are not your dolls. they do not need to be dressed up or displayed properly to soothe your aesthetics. you aren't concerned for them, you're stealing their agency. you don't get to say if they're "allowed" to take pictures and post them on the internet - you don't get to tell them how to exist.

people hide behind "the obesity epidemic" without any actual qualifications. they crow things about "normalizing unhealthiness".

but it's bullshit. i have visible abs. there is a pair of parallel lines on my body, even when i'm relaxed; where my obliques meet my abdominal wall. i am proud of this because it means i'm strong, because i overcame an eating disorder only to be ripped as fuck. it is genetic and physical luck that i even get any definition, i'm pleased as punch.

but it does mean that my abdominal wall sticks out a little bit. the other day i posted a video of myself dancing, and, for a moment, my shirt slipped. you could see a little bit of my stomach. i was cartwheeling to the floor. moments before this, i'd had my foot over my head.

a guy slid into my DMs. a row of vomiting emojis prefaced: you should really lose some weight before you think about dancing.

i stared at it for a long time. there was a time when i would have been triggered by this, where it would have encouraged me to starve myself. i would have ignored the fact i'm flexible, agile, good at jumping: i would have lost the weight for a stranger's passing comment. i would have found myself and my body fucking disgusting.

and for what? to please what? because why? so that he can exist in this world without an unchallenged eyeball? what would my self-hatred even accomplish? usually i write paragraphs. obviously. on this particular occasion, in this body i've been at war with for ages: i just felt exhausted.

it shouldn't be even worth saying. it shouldn't be hard to explain. all of this emotional turmoil when he cannot even comprehend the most basic truth: i am not an object on display for him.

[yamujiburo]

Hope this doesn't come off as too rude, but why are you making Jessie gain a lot of weight?

Sometimes it's health-related and it can't be helped but in this case, you're making her 'fatter' for what reason? Weight gain is a HUGE problem for thousands of people, and so is weight loss.

Sure, getting a little bigger is fine. Since Jessie is very skinny in the show, but not to the 'obese' point. It's sad to see her go from having a healthy body image to an unhealthy one

(I'm overweight myself. I'm not skinny at all. And I know for some it's probably nice seeing large women rep. But in this case, seeing a character go through what I went through and now I'm struggling with it and it causes a lot of strain on my mental health because of the weight I've gained... yeah...)

Everyone is different! It’s important to acknowledge that while losing weight may be healthier for SOME people, gaining weight may be healthier for others.

In Jessie’s case, she’s lived through poverty, literally eating snow, then even after getting a job at Team Rocket, she was still frequently on the brink of starvation. I would not jump to say her body was necessarily “healthy” given this context and I think it can be dangerous to do so. Healthy looks different on everyone! Her gaining weight is a sign of finally being comfortable and having the means to live happily.

[akoyaxs]

˚༄ Tìwäsul

✮ Meaning: competition ✮ Requested by: ⛄️ and 🪐 ✮ Pairing: Aonung x fem!metkayina!warrior reader ✮ Warnings: rivals, smutty smut, fluff, p in v, Aonung is a munch, pining ✮ Word Count: 10.3k

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It first happened when you were kids. The first time that stupid skxawng beat you, and it never seemed to end. You knew you were just as talented, just as ferocious, just as determined, but he was always just larger and stronger. It probably also helped that he would be Olo'eyktan.

So year after year, after every fight, every hunt, every trial, you would always be second. Silver. Sure, you could smash down every other  warrior. Sure, you could outrun and outswim and even outrank any other person in the clan, but there would always be him. Aonung.

He was, in fact, a complete and utter idiot. He was all big and perfect and beloved by the clan, despite all his flaws. Because those flaws seemed perfectly obvious to you, his competition, but everyone else just fawned over his big muscles and pretty blue eyes and you were determined to never do so.

He was cocky. He was a player. He had more muscles in his arms than braincells in his head. He was condescending and entitled and just somehow managed to get away with everything.

So you were determined to be the person to call him out. If everyone was going to baby him and feed his practically obese ego, you would try to keep him in check.

You wouldn't fawn and fall at his feet. Every word you spoke to him was twice as harsh as to others. Every blow you delivered in training was harder than the last, and certainly harder than anyone else would dare to hit the precious little prince. Every look you sent him clearly showed your distaste that he, somehow, always was above you.

And he seemed to get it. As you got older, he became less dickish towards you. By the time you finished your iknimaya, he had congratulated you. By the time the Sully's came to the reef, if you called him out on his taunting, he'd pull his head back in.

You, of course, had no idea why. Everyone else did though. The way Aonung would only do as you say was perfectly obvious to everyone else. Ronal and Tonowari had figured it out early, that their son hardly listened to them, so they managed to sneak you into it when they wanted him to do something.

And Aonung tried to get over it. That's why he spent his days training hard, trying to beat away and sweat out all his ceaseless thoughts of you. Thoughts that mortify him, thoughts that you would murder him over.

That's why he spends his nights with a new girl every time, on the beach, in the water, on the woven floor of marui's, trying to fuck his desires for you out into another girl.

He can't help it- the way he imagines it's always you. You squirming as he lays with his head nestled between your shaking thighs, holding you down and drawing desperate moans out of your mouth so usually full of quips and snarls. 

You on your knees in front of him, the same eyes that glare when you look at him now filled with tears as you take him far into your throat, your soft lips brushing over his hard length.

Imagining you're the one under him, riding him, bent over in front of him, the curve of your ass and the softness of your tits on complete display for him.

Fuck.

It was bad. It was really fucking bad.

You were his second in command, you were his biggest competition. What used to be a childish crush was rapidly growing into a mature, dangerous obsession. 

What he wouldn't give to have you as his, to be yours... 

You, of course, on the other hand, are completely oblivious to his infatuation with you. For years, you've written off the way he treats you differently as simply part of the game, part of the competition the two of you have entertained for so long.

You have no idea of the blunt lust and deep affection he harbours for you, and you're certainly oblivious to his efforts to get closer to you. The first could have been anything, and it never would have occurred to you that it was courting.

In the years since your iknimaya, the rivalry between the two of you had fizzled slightly. You could accept his outranking you- he, at least, was worth the top position.

So you followed his orders with 60% obedience and managed to build a courteous, polite relationship with him. You were not quite friends, yet you both respected the other, and managed to share a good conversation every now and then.

Which is why it seemed so shocking that he was suddenly starting to compete with you again. He, of course, isn't doing anything of the sort, but you think he's falling back into the old rivalry.

It all started with the summer hunt. 

Really, it was your fault. You let yourself get overconfident, sure that the huge fish you had speared through the heart would be the largest catch of the clan, and you had been pleased with yourself and returned to the village.

There was much admiration and praise for your amazing catch, everyone congratulating you until suddenly it all stopped. You weren't an attention seeker at all, but you couldn't help feeling irritated that something was suddenly so important.

Which, of course, has to be Aonung. 

He's striding towards you, his large, muscular arms straining under the weight of the fish he's holding. It's fucking massive, completely putting your batch to shame, with shimmery scales and terrifying spikes all along it's back and fins and mouth and tail.

Almost instantly, everyone that had been congratulating you practically pounces onto him, gushing over their precious little prince and his unimaginable talents, his incredible strength, his impossible bravery yadayadayada.

You, on the other hand, just stay back, arms folded and a scowl fixed onto your face. You aren't bitter he did better than you (well maybe a little but that wasn't the point). After thinking you both got over this competition on at least surface level, here he was, bringing his haul over to you to completely undermine your efforts. To show, once again, he beat you.

But as everyone fawned all over him, he just continues to walk to you, returning a smile every now and then but staying in silence as he approaches. His bright blue eyes are fixed into yours the whole time.

He doesn't look cocky; there's a strange glint in those ocean eyes that you can't interpret. He's doing something, you can obviously tell at least that, trying to prove himself in some way. 

And of course, your competitive, fierce mind jumps straight into the past. You can't believe he's doing this now, making you look ridiculous and small and undermining you with his amazing catch.

He finally reaches your woven basket, in which your now seemingly tiny fish lies. You fold your arms and stare blankly up at him, not bothering to hide your annoyance.

"Hey," he smiles, shifting the fish in his arms so he can see you better.

"Hey," you reply slightly coldly, raising your brows slightly and watching him.

He was attractive, you can admit that. Not just in a pretty way, he was so pretty it had every girl falling at his feet, and he was always happy to offer his time to them. It was something in that white shiny smile and bright blue eyes, maybe something to do with that air of slight mischief and danger that lingered around him.

It also could be his body. That was good too. All muscular and giant and taller than anyone else in the clan, even Tonowari. He moved with confidence and slight cockiness, the curve of his broad shoulders rolling gracefully when he moved. It was something to do with the sharpness of his collarbones and jawline, or the way his lashes curled so gently. Or just his body, the slight X shape to his ribcage, his stomach toned and muscly just like the rest of him, tapering into a slim waist.

“Good catch,” Aonung says, nodding down at your basket that looks ridiculous beside his.

You squint at him, is he making fun of you? But he looks genuinely sincere, and also nervous. Aonung, the prince of the clan, the most confident even cocky person you know, is standing slightly awkwardly in front of you, looking nervous.

You aren’t sure if it’s your face- your glare does tend to have a terrifying effect on people, but you decide you’ve glared at him and he’s never looked this nervous around you before. In fact, you’ve never even seen him be nervous ever. Not at any fight or hunt or even at his iknimaya.

That only makes you more annoyed.

“Yours is better,” you reply bluntly. It’s an obvious fact, and Aonung smiles slightly.

“Thank you,” he grins. “I went outside the reef to three brothers rock-”

“Isn’t that a bit far,” you ask sceptically. “And a little dangerous?”

You go to hunt at three brothers rock every few days, but what was this skxawng playing at, going to such extreme lengths to beat you.

“I wanted to bring something good back,” he shrugs.

You scowl a little deeper. The other clan members that had been offering their congratulations were now dispersing. Sure, your arguments with Aonung were known to be a great source of entertainment for the clan, almost as much as the actual warrior fights, but they also knew better than to overstay their welcome when it came to the two highest ranking warriors in the clan. And this is where this is heading, an argument

Really, you had slackened in your insults and keeping Aonung in line over the last few years, the competition between the two of you dying out slowly let you let him off the hook. He had used his new freedom to fuck around with his friends and girls and you had put your efforts into training and proving yourself.

“What are you trying to do Aonung,” you sigh, sharpening your knife to carve the fish.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding confused.

“You’ve never gone hunting beyond the reef except when you’re trying to prove a point,” you say bluntly, not looking up from sharpening your knife. “Like when you nearly got Lo’ak killed when we were kids. So what point are you trying to prove?”

When he doesn’t say anything, just staring down at you, you put your knife down with a small snarl and glare up at him.

But before you can say anything, the next wave of villagers walks past, and they bustle around Aonung to marvel at his incredible hunting skills and unbelievable daring and oh my god you’re just strong! And Aonung just doesn’t seem to care. He usually is aloof and cocky, but he enjoys praise and ass kissing. The new crowd blocks you from his view, and you shift slightly to keep it that way, while you can take another look at him. He looks like he’s trying to find you, craning his neck and ignoring all the praises and flirtings thrown at his fucking feet. His brows are furrowed, and he looks torn between confusion and slight upset that you’ve suddenly disappeared.

Stupid skxawng.

You sigh, gaze flicking to the basket of your smaller fish lying ignored and abandoned beside the group clamouring over Aonung’s massive, incredible one, and sigh.

You leave it there and slip back through the crowd and into your marui.

Tsireya’s waiting there for you, your best friend lying in your bed, admiring something. Her ears flick up when you enter, quickly noticing your annoyance in your huffy silence and agitatedly flicking tail.

“Hey beautiful,” Tsireya grins. “What’s got your tail in a knot?"

“I’ll tell you who,” you say hotly, stripping off your gear from hunting and tossing it angrily into the corner. “Some stupid, infuriating, competitive-”

“Right,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “What has Aonung done now? I thought you guys were fine now.”

“I thought so too,” you growl, setting your knife down aggressively. “But noooo, apparently now he has to one up me and hunt the biggest fish in my fishing territory. You know, I don’t know why he’s being so competitive.”

“It’s a bit hypocritical of you to be calling anyone competitive,” your best friend comments, raising her brows at you. When you glare at her, she holds her hands up. “I was just saying, don’t get mad at me.”

You just huff a sigh and flop down onto your woven bed, laying your head in her lap.

“You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?” Tsireya says, sounding amused.

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” you snap. “I just know that your brother is trying to beat me, or prove something-”

Tsireya laughs incredulously, and when you lift your head to frown at her, she stifles her giggle and puts on a straight face.

“This is beautiful,” she gestures to what she’d been studying before.

You have half a mind to object to her subject change. But then again, Tsireya had heard you rant about her brother so many times, she’d probably memorised it by now. And you weren’t bothered to spend any more time thinking about him, otherwise you’d get pissed and unproductive.

“Yes,” you smile fondly, taking the top from her. It was beautifully woven, a piece that you had been working on for a while for the hunt festival, beading intricately with gems and shells and seaglass you had collected yourself. It was something you adored, something beautiful and yours, that you could admire as your hard work.

“Well, come and see what I have prepared,” Tsireya grins.

“I don’t want to run into Aonung at your marui,” you sigh.

“Oh, you won’t,” Tsireya rolls her eyes. “My brother’s out preparing for you- um, for something?”

“Probably the festival,” you grumble under your breath. “Where he’ll steal my last respect and status.”

But you follow your best friend out along the village to her marui. The sun was nearly set now, a deep, rich periwinkle colour over the sparkling, still ocean. You wished you could go for a swim, maybe even a hunt right now, but you need to help prepare for the festival tomorrow night. That was who you were, reliable and determined to do anything to prove yourself, helping wherever you can.

Tonowari, Ronal, Tsireya and Aonung lived in the largest marui in the village, obviously. They had the one in the centre, a huge, beautifully woven marui with partings for rooms. You had your own marui now, with a single room, a sleeping mat, a small kitchen, and a shelf for your memories and keepsakes. It wasn’t exactly tiny, given your high status, but as you lived alone you weren’t assigned a larger, nicer marui, and you had no need for one either.

But sometimes you felt a little bitter as you looked across the village to your favourite marui. It had just been recently woven, in the perfect spot at the edge of the beach and over the shallows of the water, the perfect place to fish right off the walkway. It had plenty of room for weapons and collectibles, and a curtain for privacy woven of palm leaves and strung with beautiful shells hung in the entrance, shielding the interior for you.

Oh, how you longed to have that marui. Problem was, there was a reason why it was so beautiful. It was for the next clan leader- Aonung and his future mate.

You sneak a glance at it before you follow Tsireya into her family’s marui. You greet Ronal and Tonowari who greet you happily, exchanging some conversation about the festival and the hunt. As you finish your chat and go towards Tsireya’s room, something catches your eye from another doorway.

You aren’t a snooper. You aren’t a lurker or someone who wallows in other people’s business. You certainly never cared about Aonung’s business. But you can’t help your curiosity, and after noticing Aonung isn’t in his room and hearing Tsireya rustle about in her room to get her top, you quickly slip your head in to see.

Eywa. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Sitting neatly on his bed, amidst several loose beads and string, is the more intricate, gorgeous top you’ve ever seen. Just like the hunt, it puts your top to complete shame.

Each bead sparkles in the light, colourful and happy and beautiful just like the stars shining bright above you. You can’t help feeling impressed, though you’re still frowning. Tentatively, you reach out and lightly trace the top.

It’s so smooth and cool beneath your fingers, and you can already see that it would settle perfectly when worn, showing the perfect amount of skin and delicately covering you at the same time.

Everyone weaves new tops for the festivals, and men often do too to gift to others. Aonung was going to beat you, once again. There was no doubt about it, this top was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

And then you’re suddenly upset, and it’s hitting you that once fucking again he’s won and you’ve lost and it’s all just shit and you’re backing out of Aonung’s room. You’re backing out of the marui, and you’re headed straight for your own home. Flopping into your bed, you just lie in still silence, staring blankly up and scowling.

That night is filled with annoying restlessness. You don’t attend the preparations for the festival held the night after the hunt, resigning yourself that you’ll just figure it all out at the festivities tomorrow. You had, once again, been proved completely inferior to Aonung, and when you woke up the next day and prepared for training, you were determined to not let it happen again.

You made your way over to the training grounds early, figuring maybe you could get in some practise before everyone else arrived and you were once again Aonung’s second in command, but as you gathered some spears and walked over, there was a familiar figure standing there.

“Hey,” Aonung calls when he sees you arriving. “Where did you go yesterday; I didn’t see you after the hunt?”

“I was tired,” you say coolly, tying your hair back.

“Right,” Aonung says, brow furrowing slightly. “And you weren’t helping to prepare last night, either.”

At that, you straighten up and frown at him.

“Since when did you go to the preparations?” you ask sceptically. “I thought you were too cool to help out.”

“I was looking for you,” Aonung says unexpectedly. “You disappeared before.”

“Well,” you huff, lifting a spear, “I wasn’t in the mood for worshipping you like everyone else.”

Aonung chuckles slightly, shaking his head and leaning back to stare at you.

“You’ve never worshipped me.”

“You need someone to keep you humble,” you sigh, bringing your arm back and tossing the spear as hard as you can. It flies far and lands sticking straight up into the sand. You turn back to see Aonung looking impressed. “Unfortunately, being humble isn’t your strong suit.”

“Hey,” he protests. “I’m great at being humble. I’m practically the best at humbleness.”

“Right,” you roll your eyes, picking up another spear. “Be a dear and grab my spear, will you?”

You half expect Aonung to argue, to point out he is your superior, but to your surprise he obediently walks out and picks it from the sand. So he’s still doing as you ask, so what was that sudden resurgence of competition?

“Are you going to try and kill me?” Aonung asks amusedly, watching as you level another spear and throw it again whilst he’s still picking up your first.

“No,” you say stiffly. “I wouldn’t need to try- if I wanted you dead, this spear would already be through your head.”

“You really are strange,” he says, making his way back. There’s a strange fondness in his voice that you don’t understand.

Unbeknownst to you of course, Aonung was not so sneaky at hiding his feelings from everyone else. Or maybe the rest of the clan just wasn’t as oblivious as you. Either way, neither of you noticed your warriors gathering around, watching you and Aonung.

You had always been careful to maintain a courteous, respectful relationship with Aonung in the eyes of your warriors since you passed your iknimaya, but really, you weren’t fooling anyone.

Everyone remembers the two of you when you were younger, in constant competition, your distaste and need to keep him in line balancing his cockiness. And just as infamous (except to you) is just how much Aonung likes his second in command.

Really, it’s obvious to all your warriors- they’re the ones that have to watch Aonung watch you, watch your movements and instructions and teachings and scolding. It’s not secret to them that he likes you, yet their knowledge is a secret to Aonung, and everything is a secret to you.

You start the usual training, instructing all your warriors into warmups and then positions, preparing for them to practise sparring. But, unbeknownst to you, your warriors had a plan, sick of all the pretences and rivalry and oblivious and secrets.

The next stage of training was something of a tournament, all the warriors pairing up and fighting. Winner moves on, loser’s out. You should have known it would end up like this.

You were the best warriors after all, and too soon you found yourself facing Aonung, your warriors watching with interest from the sidelines after being absolutely annihilated by the pair of you. Really, your showdowns with Aonung were almost legendary, but there hadn’t been one since you both completed your iknimaya. But now here you are, about to fight him.

You and Aonung stand at opposite ends, studying each other and moving into battle positions.

You start to circle, before Aonung moves first. He stabs his spear towards you, which you parry easily and we whirl. It's a dance really, charged with tension as you slash and spiral, ducking and stabbing. But after a few moments, Aonung manages to twist the spear from your grip, and it clatters to the ground, rolling out of the circle. You hear groans from the crowd, and the thought that they think you might lose is infuriating.

Not this fucking time. You haven’t come second at every turn for years, your rivalry to die and and then suddenly just return for you to lose again.

You leap at Aonung, leaping over his spear jab and twisting in the air to grab his queue and use your momentum to fling him across the circle. His spear, too, goes rolling away, and he gets slowly to his feet, exhaling and narrowing his eyes slightly.

You exchange a few punches and attacks, enough for you to realise that he must be holding back. There is no way that someone that muscular throws a punch that weak.

"Why are you holding back?" you hiss.

"I'm not," Aonung says, yet the next punch he delivers to your side hardly winds you at all.

"Stop holding back," you growl, and leaping at him, knocking him to the floor and straddling him easily.

And finally, you see his eyes narrow and his breath catch with annoyance, and he moves with his full power. It was an anticipatable offence, and you step quickly aside, ducking under his swing. You move around behind him and kick his leg, bending it and sending him to his knees. You quickly toss him aside onto the ground while he is still confused, and he slides along the sand, digging his fingers in at the last moment.

He clambers to his feet and you crouch a little lower. You trail the circle, eyes fixed on one another. You wait, unhurried and unworried, so he gives in and makes the first move again. This time he goes for your legs, and you leap over him, pushing his shoulders down so he stumbles and you roll to the ground and spring up again.

You exchange punches and kicks, and he doesn't hold back. He tackles to the ground and you groan as his elbow jabs at your gut. Aonung is admittedly stronger, so it takes you some time to wiggle free from his hold, but you move your knee up to smack him in the groin. Then he rolls you over easily and pins me down, his other hand closing around your throat.

You jab your elbow into his side and roll you over again, pinning his hands up and straddling his chest.

“Go on,” you breathe, faces inches from Aonung, pressing your arm up against his throat, ready to cut off his breath if needed.

But he doesn’t say anything. His large, muscular body is warm and still beneath you, his eyes just roving over your face with wide pupils, breath heaving. In fact, his breathing is so strong you’re practically getting lifted up and down on his chest.

Everyone’s watching expectantly, and you press your arm down harder on his throat. You raise your brows expectantly at him.

“I give up,” he breathes, inches away from your face, eyes boring brightly into your own.

“Louder,” you snap, lightly slamming him against the ground.

“I give up!” he shouts.

You let him go, arm moving off his throat, and just resting, breathing heavily. He gave up. You won. You beat him, finally, after years of coming second, and everyone saw you do it.

And the staring eyes suddenly make you realise you’re still straddling Aonung, legs tight on either side and whole body resting on his infuriatingly very prominent abs.

You aren’t one to blush, but you’d be lying if you didn’t scramble quickly off him, readjusting your top and tewng as you look at your warriors. They look satisfied. Not in the way you feel, not like they’re happy you finally beat him. No, they look like something was just confirmed, something you just have no idea about.

“Dismissed,” Aonung calls, waving off his warriors.

You frown, but at the end of the day, it isn’t your call. So you greet your warriors goodbye, exchanging words and waving them off. You don’t miss their knowing smiles, and the way none of them wait for you to follow too. As though they know exactly what’s about to happen, as you pick up your spears and make to follow-

“Wait.”

The word hangs lazily in the air. And, since it was spoken out of his mouth, you had to obey. So, trying to fight off the scowl fixed on your face, you slowly turn to stare at him.

“Yes, Aonung?”

“You are mad with me,” Aonung says, a slight frown on his face. You squint slightly. Eywa, this skxawng really is thick, that it’s taken him so long to realise, and for him to not even be sure about it.

“Is that all you had to ask me?” you reply, with raised brows. “Can I go now-”

“No,” Aonung says bluntly. It’s the first time he’s ever flat out refused you, and you have to take a moment to realise that you actually have to stay and have this conversation now, instead of hiding your annoyance with him behind rolled eyes like usual.

“Fine.” You cross your arms and stand impatiently. It couldn’t be clearer that you wanted to leave, and Aonung shifts a little.

This isn’t at all how he pictured you to be acting. He had tried so hard- hunting the largest fish, trying his best to impress you at every turn with fighting and spear throwing. And you finally beat him. You won, so why are you so upset with him?

Maybe you noticed him staring, maybe you noticed how flustered he got when you had him pinned down and were straddling him?

In no way was Aonung someone that submitted easily. He listened to no one, except you. Really, you’re the only person that could ever get away with having him like that. If only you knew what more you could get away with, that he’d let you do anything, that he’d do anything you let him.

“Why do you dislike me so much?” Aonung asks. Your eyes narrow further.

“I don’t dislike you,” you say delicately, and he scoffs.

“We’ve been stuck in this competition since we were kids,” Aonung points out. “Why did it start.”

“You’re asking me?” you say with raised brows. “Aren’t you the one that’s been determined to beat me at every turn?”

“That’s what you think I’ve been doing?” Aonung asks incredulously. “You think all these years, I just wanted to win?”

“Don’t you?” you ask. “I mean, what have you been beating me and belittling me for years for then, if not to win?”

Aonung blinks rapidly. Oh eywa, this is fucked. He never would have guessed this; that you genuinely thought he dislikes you, that all he wanted was to triumph over you this whole time.

“You just won,” Aonung points out instead.

“Once,” you snap. “I won once, after busting my ass off my whole life. I can handle being second in command. I can handle you being a better hunter and a better fighter and a better leader and beader and whatever, but why are you suddenly rubbing all your victories in my face again?”

“I’m not,” Aonung says, flushing furiously. “I wasn’t trying to gloat or anything, I wanted you to see me do well… because…”

Your eyes narrow further, and your brows raise higher. It couldn’t be plainer you weren’t believing a word he said, and he could guess you’d take some convincing even if he did decide to confess everything right here and now. When he stands in awkward silence, trying to think of what to say, you scoff.

“What about the hunt. What about the spears. What about the top, and the marui and-”

“The top? The marui?”

“Yes,” you hiss. “I spent so long weaving the most beautiful top and you had to make an even prettier one. I mean- how did your massive fumbly fingers even manage to make it? And the marui- building the most beautiful home right in front of mine, blocking my view of the ocean-“

“Stop!” Aonung finally cuts you off, as your tone grows louder and more impatient. “It was for you.”

You scowl. Then you frown. Then you raise your brows, and part your lips in confusion. Then you scowl again.

“What?”

“It’s all for you,” Aonung explodes, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “I tried hard to impress you all those years. I hunted that fish to impress you. I wove that top to impress you. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”

And now he’s done it. Spoken the words that break everything, the ones that make fucking sure that nothing’s ever going to be the same. He risks a peek between his fingers at you.

You look like you’ve been broken. Your eyes are wide, your cheeks flushed, mouth parted in confusion, brows raised and head cocked slightly. You’re trying to tell what the fuck is going on. This is a joke, this has to be a joke. He’s taking the fucking piss.

There’s no way Aonung is telling the truth right now- no way anything has been for you. Not the fish, not the hunt, not the fights or the spears or the tops or any thing.

“And the marui?” you whisper. Aonung sighs, covering his face with a large hand. He looks absolutely mortified, as though he wasn’t meant to say any of this.

“Well, I was hoping this would go differently- better. That maybe you would see I liked you without needing me to shout it at you- that maybe you might think that perhaps I never disliked you and that I just wanted you to see me?”

You just continue to stare blankly at him, so he continues in a rush.

“It was perfect,” he mumbles. “Perfect for fishing. You could see the perfect sunsets. The prettiest shells wash up on the beaches underneath the walkway, and I know you love the little ones with the dark spirals. Early morning huts, places to store your weapons, a little cove for the ilu right underneath.”

You blink even more rapidly. Is this skxawng actually making sense? Is he telling the truth?

“So…” you say slowly, swallowing hotly. “You aren’t like… my rival or something.”

“I hope not,” Aonung mutters. “I mean, am I?”

The silence you keep is going to kill him. He just knows it; his heart is thumping so hard he knows it’s about to explode and he’s going to die. His hands and fidgeting sightly. Eywa, he’s never been this nervous in his life. Really, you’re the only person who’s ever managed to make him feel nervous.

And fuck. You had never thought of Aonung like this- never let yourself think of him like this. Because he was always Aonung, prince of the clan, your best friend’s brother, your commander, your rival. But now apparently not. When you think about it, you never hated Aonung. Your distaste for him was purely on a physical level, for his cockiness and taunting, yet noe it was never actually true.

Plus, there were good things about him- that he was a good hunter and fisher and fighter and weaver. And he was sort of sweet, even though you always mistook his crush for dislike.

Plus Eywa, he’s hot.

And maybe it has something to do with the terrified, guilty, nervous, heart-broken, hopeful look in those bright blue eyes, but you find your heart pounding slightly faster. No. Fuck.

The silence is growing longer, and you’re feeling… something. Something in the air between you. Something that had always been there, a tension that makes everything all sharp and strong and dangerous, but you’d always written it off as the stupid rivalry.

Aonung’s just staring, looking large and muscly and nervous in front of you, but also expectant. He expects you to say no. He thinks he’s messed up, pushed things too far, changed everything, fucked it all up. And, as ever, you prove him wrong.

“Aonung,” you say quietly. “What are you saying?”

“I- fuck- I like you,” he says, rubbing a hand over his face. “I like everything about you, even when you hate me. I like that you speak your mind, and you treat me like anyone and not like some king or something. I like that you aren’t ever afraid or nervous, and that everything you do is just… it’s just always right.”

You scrunch your face. A small flush is creeping across your cheeks. Who would have ever thought that Aonung would be the one to be giving you these stupid fucking butterflies, just by speaking and staring at you with those bright blue eyes. And that when it strikes you. All the usual customs of courting. Bringing gifts. Hunting for them. Beading them clothing. And the marui. Everything he thought you’d like- that you do like, and it was for you.

“So, you’re trying to court me?” you ask incredulously, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

“Is it not obvious already?” Aonung asks with a smile. “Do you need me to get down and propose, tawtute style?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you grin wickedly. “I didn’t spend years being second to you to let you off too easily now, did I?”

“Fine,” Aonung sighs. To your surprise, he kneels down instantly and rolls his eyes up at you. “Do you have an answer now?”

“So impatient,” you squint at him.

“Still your commander,” he points out. “But you don’t need to respond right now. I’m happy for you to take your time. I’ve already waited-”

Surprising even yourself, you reach out and pull him up. It’s not something you consciously do- you have no idea what you meant to do- but then all of a sudden you’re inches apart, eyes meeting dangerously, and you’re reaching up and he’s leaning down and your lips meet.

Fuck. It’s all warm and gentle and comfortable, his arms instantly reaching to encircle you, hold you, hands resting in your hair and carefully on your hips. He smells gently of amber and sea-breeze, but you’re most focused on his lips. They’re impossibly soft against yours, gentle, then exploratory, then hungry.

And then all of a sudden, you can see. It’s almost like your eyes aren’t closed; they’re open and you can see everything Aonung said in truth. You can feel the years he spent liking you in secret, the passion with which he wanted to hold you, to kiss you for so long. Too long. You can feel it in the heat of the kiss, the heaviness of his breath, the closeness of his body against yours, as though he wants to hold you as near as possible and never let you go.

But he does, hands sliding off your waist, withdrawing from your hair, stepping back and gazing down at you. And for the first time- you feel nervous. You feel bare, and messy, and scared. Not of Aonung, god no, but of what just happened. Of what you just felt.

And when he opens his mouth, no doubt to tell you there’s no pressure, he isn’t expecting anything from you, you’re free to do blah blah blah, you find there’s already an answer on your lips. It’s that you want his again.

“You’re to be Olo’eyktan,” you whisper. You immediately see his ears lower and face fall, and you quickly shake your head. "Aonung, look at me."

He does, ashamedly and heartbroken, and you swallow before thinking. You try to think what you need to say, bury what you want to say, biting your lip to stop yourself from hurting him. Or yourself. But his hand slides up to gently caress your face. With his fingers so gently touching your cheeks and under his intoxicating gaze, it's so hard to say it, but you know you must.

"Aonung, you have your people and your future to think-"

“I am thinking,” Aonung says firmly. “I’ve thought about this every day since we were kids. My parents knew I thought about this- the whole clan knew. And think about it- you are literally the best fighter, best hunter, best weaver in the whole clan.”

“You are,” you correct, but he just shakes his head.

“Don’t think about any duties or anything,” Aonung says firmly. “This is what I’ve wanted forever, more than being a warrior, more than being Olo’eyktan. Because what is important is you- and I won’t want to do any of those things without you by my side. Not some village girl, not some other shy healer, you.”

You can’t think of anything to say. You stand there for a moment, blinking at him, heart beating fast in your chest, head spinning nervously. So instead of saying anything, because you have no idea what to say, you step forward to close the gap he just made, lean onto your tip toes and crash your lips onto his.

And he catches you in a way no one else could. Really, only Aonung could be like this. He certainly hadn’t been wasting all that time staring at you in training- he knew exactly what to do- where to slide his hands over your waist, how to tilt your head, to graze his fangs lightly over your lips. This obviously isn’t his first rodeo (you know that, you’d heard enough stories about him with other girls),  but Eywa, you feel like it’s your first time with the way each of his careful, smooth movements have your heart twisting.

You’re growing closer, his hand traveling lower, your own moving over the muscles in his arms and back and shoulder and holy shit this man is just seemingly impossibly fit. The kisses are growing hungrier, messier, closer, all pressing of tongues and heavy breaths and grazing fangs.

Your insides are twisting nervously, tiny flutters of surprised delight flaring inside you, and also something else. You’re growing hungrier for his touches, greedy for him, and you can tell that he, too, is also growing needier. His hand brushes over the string of your tewng and you shiver in his touch.

But then he’s pulling away again. You frown at him, eyes narrowed, legs slightly rubbing together, lips feeling cold without the press of his against them. Aonung’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide to ebony moons ringed in clear blue, chest heaving slightly and gaze roving over your face.

When you return to your marui, your heart is thumping fast, and you notice something gleaming on your bed. The top. Aonnug’s top- the one he made. For you. You instantly run a finger along the intricate beading, just as you had when you first saw it, but still just as nervous, as gentle, as tentative. It can’t be yours- it doesn’t feel real- that he likes you, that he made this, that he did everything. For you.

“Where have you been?” an amused voice asks from the entrance. You turn to see Tsireya walking in towards you, a small knowing smile of her sweet face.

“I was training,” you say quietly. “And- um- Aonung…”

“You found out,” Tsireya says plainly, looking delighted. She walks over and leans a head on your shoulder, admiring the top with you. “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it? You should wear it tonight.”

You frown slightly. In all the haze of the fighting and annoyance and finally the truth, you’d forgotten about the festival. But as you gaze down at the beautiful top, you smile slightly. You nod at your best friend, who grins back and leans closer into you.

Aonung’s sitting at the side of the party. You’ve yet to arrive, and he’s determinedly avoiding the gazes sent his way from other girls. That’s how these sort of festivals always ended, how most of his nights ended, with a new girl. But he couldn’t bring himself to feel the slightest bit of interest, not when he remembered you.

The furious gleam in your eyes as you kissed him, the softness of your skin rubbing against his own, your slim waist held in his hand. The sweet, coconut smell of your soft dark curls, the warmth of your lips against his, the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his lips. And the sounds you made- all breathy and almost as hungry as he was, eywa, he can’t wait to hear it again.

It was better than he’d ever imagined, and he’d imagined kissing you a million times over the years. Soft and gentle and rough and hungry and desperate and sweet and everything you’d ever want. Because he’d do it. He’d do whatever you wanted.

“Hey,” Rotxo says, nudging Aonung. “Isn’t that the love of your life?”

Aonung turns, faster than he’s ever turned before, and sees you walking besides Tsireya and standing with the Sullys. A small shiver goes through him at the sight of you in that top. He had never pictured it would look like that, but he wasn’t about to complain.

The beadings shone against your teal skin in the pale moonlight and flickering firelight, the intricate strands of the top threading over your chest and leaving little to imagination. He’s barely aware he’s moved over and left an amused Rotxo behind, all he knows is suddenly you’ve stopped looking around the party to find him, and he’s right there in front of you.

Everything seems to fall silent- not only in Aonung’s mind. Girls all over the party are glaring, guys are frowning, your warriors are grinning in a fucking finally sort of way, and Tsireya, Rotxo, and the Sullys are just watching with delighted amusement. Across the fire, you can feel Ronal and Tonowari watching. But when you look over, Tonowari is smiling, and Ronal gives you an appreciative nod and a swift grin.

The festival seems to last a lifetime. It seems completely pointless to Aonung, just a bunch of congratulations to the hunters and a few songs and dances around the fire. Until you get out on the sand. The sway of your hips is hypnotising, as is the way your curls move in unison with your slim body. And of course, he doesn’t miss the way the top shifts as you dance, caressing over your skin like ripples in still water. He’s never been more jealous of an inanimate object in his life.

And then it’s over, and you’re right beside him. He’s not sure what exactly was going through his mind, what either of you were thinking, but suddenly you’re leaving the party together, hurried and hungry and it couldn’t be more fucking obvious what’s going to happen.

You’re alone now once you leave the beaches and walk along the woven pathways of the village; the whole clan is out at the festival. You look up at him, and he pauses to look down at you. Neither of you say anything, but then it’s happening and you’re kissing him again.

Really, none of it feels real. It all stopped being real when he told you he liked you- but now the way he’s leaning down so far to kiss you, to hold you closer just sends you over the edge of unreality. Then he’s getting impatient, and he’s simply picking you up like you weight nothing, hands automatically holding you in place by your back and one steadily holding your thigh.

You’re expecting to go to your marui, or maybe his, but instead, you don’t. You go into the perfect marui, the one you’ve stared at every day, as casually as though it’s your own home. You open your mouth to say something, but the privacy curtain of woven shells closes behind you, and it strikes you that you’re alone with Aonung.

The marui’s dimly lit in the silvery moonlight filtering through the weavings, and really, your attention is going straight to the very comfortable bed. His kisses are getting hungrier as he walks you backwards towards the bed, hands holding tight to your hips until both of you fall back onto the bed, his large, muscular body warm over yours. His hand reaches up to the beading of your top, and in his haste to get closer, he just rips it right off. You gasp, watching the beautiful beads scatter everywhere, but he pays no mind.

“I’ll make you more,” he promises. And who are you to complain- particularly with the way he’s staring at you.

Held in his warm lap, one of his hands big enough to hold both your breasts, both large enough to wrap around your whole neck. The thought of that makes you moan unconsciously, and Aonung blinks at you in surprise. You don't bother to play anything cool; with his hands where they are, he can feel how hot and nervous and hungry you are.

And when he meets your eyes again, you can see he feels the same. He’s trailing kisses down your jaw now, hands reaching up to lightly brush over your skin before he licking over your tit gently, grinning a little at your whine, the stark contrast of your smooth supple skin against his rough tongue just driving you fucking crazy.

He wraps his lips around your nipple and suckles at it, before he nips lightly at the underside of your tit. You gasp, hands gripping his arms tighter, unexpectant and surprised. Each of his moves is calculated, clever, as though he’s planned this a million times in his head.

You blame all the years of training together- he’s the only one that would have such an intimate knowledge of your body without having done anything like this with you before. He knows to be gentle and rough and where to kiss and lick and nip. His hands are trailing down, and they’re sliding along the string of your tewng.

“Is this alright?” he asks gently, pausing to look up at you.

“Yes,” you breathe hastily, desperate for anything. How the tables have fucking turned; now all you want is his touch, his words, him, when just a day ago you were grumbling to Tsireya about what a competitive, infuriating skxawng he is.

“Shit,” he breathes, as his finger slides through your slit. “You’re so wet.”

But despite wanting this so bad, your face is flushing and you can’t help your legs closing slightly when he slides your tewng away, and you’re left bare in front of him. Aonung frowns with impatience, easily pushing them apart and muscling his face between your thighs with such obvious enthusiasm you practically squeal.

When his nose nudges again your clit and he licks a long stripe up your cunt, you jerk away in surprise and he grips your thighs to keep you still. You’ve never gotten eaten out before, and you weren’t at all expecting the sudden twist in you, or the way you clenched around nothing in arousal. You had forgotten to process the roughness of a na’vi tongue, and it feels all large and hot and wet and so unbelievably perfect.

You're squirming from the moment he gets onto you, sucking lightly at your clit, a delighted, puppy-playful glint in his large blue eyes, tossing your legs over his shoulders so his face is pressed even closer to you. He suckles at you so eagerly, tongue stroking over your hole, over and over and over. You can't help it, the way you're simultaneously squirming away from the overwhelming pleasure of it all and the way you're rutting your hips into his face.

It's all messy, you're so wet, his face is shining with your slick and his spit, and he slides a finger back and dips it in. Instantly you gasp, jolting upwards and arching your back high to the ceiling. Aonung's about to grumble at your squirming when you tug at his hair and he groans.

“Go on,” he says carelessly, before he’s dove back down.

The man’s determined, you’ve got to give at least that to him. As you start to relax more and more, your grip on his hair gets tighter, and he’s moaning along with you. You aren’t entirely sure why, but he seems to be enjoying this as much as you do by the way his tail is thumping happily behind him, or how you can tell he’s very obviously grinning.

Aonung continues to lave his tongue against you, the warm roughness creating a perfect friction that has you arching up despite your hips being caged down by his large hands. He’s listening, watching everything you do, his ears pricking at every sound you make, his movements calculated to what you react to.

When he lightly sinks his fangs into your leg, you cry out and accidentally grind against his face, and he does it several more times.

“Fuck,” you groan, fingers threading deeper through his hair. And then he buries his tongue deep into you, nose nudging against your clit, and your orgasm is washing over you with fierce purpose. It takes you by complete surprise, and you writhe and moan and buck against his face until it’s all too much. Even then he doesn’t stop, and you have to tug his head away.

He looks disgruntled you’re making him stop, but his pride and dopey smile is bright on his face face shining like the fucking ocean, but he just wipes it carelessly and moves back up your body to shower your chest and neck with more kisses and light nips.

“That was fast,” he comments, grinning at you.

“Yeah, well,” you huff. “I- it’s never happened before.”

Aonung frowns, shifting closer.

“You’ve never been eaten out?”

“I- um... I’ve never come.”

“But…” Aonung says, frown deepening further. “You’ve been with a guy before. Right?”

He looks uncertainly at you, and you shift nervously. This is humiliating to admit, especially to the guy who’s known to be the most pleasurable man ever- the one who spends every second night with a new girl.

“Just one,” you mutter. “Once.”

“Who?” Aonung demands, and you smile, leaning forward to kiss him again, but he pulls back. “We don’t have to do anything. Just-”

“No!” you say quickly, reaching towards him. “I want to do this, Aonung.”

He opens his mouth, no doubt to speak more comfort, to tell you there’s no pressure yada yada yada, you reach out and cup the bulge of his tewng. He hisses softly, words dying in his throat and his gaze leaping to rake over your face. He waits patiently, but you can see his jaw clenched in the effort it’s taking him not to rock against your hand.

He feels big. To be fair, you’ve only seen one cock in your life, and if you’re being honest, you’d hope most people were bigger than that, but just the clothed bulge under your hand is enough to have your head spinning. You just hope to Eywa you can take it- but you’ve never been a quitter.

When you press your hand against him, his hips rock and you reach to untie his loincloth. He doesn’t rush you, he doesn’t stop you. Aonung just watches with eyes blown to black moons ringed in turquoise, face following your movements, as though he wants to stay as close to you as possible.

When you finally pull away his loincloth, you have to bite back a gasp. You aren’t intimidated, per se, but the sheer size of him is slightly breathtaking. Never once, in all your filthy imaginations, had you truly dared to factor in the sheer size of him. Just by looking at his massive muscular body, one could guess, but they'd still have their fucking minds blown. He's big. So fucking big it has your eyes bulging and heart thumping and mouth almost watering. His cock is just as beautiful as him, just as smooth pale blue with the delicate darker stripes and glowing tahnì.

When you reach out and touch it, his hips jerk slightly and his pupils widen as your smaller hand closes gently around it. Aonung’s looking at you with worship in those beautiful eyes, lips parted and breath heavy as you shift your hand slowly up and down. All the while, you can imagine the size of it pressing into you, stretching you, ruining you. Aonung seems to be thinking the same thing, because all too soon he’s lifting you up and tugging you closer as though you weigh nothing. He places you over his lap.

“Here,” he says gently, guiding your hips to rock lightly against him. The length of his cock slides along the seam of your cunt, both of you breathing heavily at the warm smear of slick you leave across him, grinding against his lap. He props himself up so he can capture you in a deep kiss, swallowing each others lewd moans at the friction. Heat is growing fast, too fast, everywhere in your body- in your face and heart and thighs and you tremble slightly at the drag of your hips over his.

Impatience for the teasing growing in both of you, Aonung gently flips you over so you’re lying beneath him, back carefully resting against the bed, and lining himself up at his entrance. At the slightest movement, your legs stretching further around his body as he presses slightly onto his cock, you know it's going to be a stretch.

“Fuck yawne,” he groans, as he pushes past the first ring of resistance and slowly starts to slide in. “You’re tighter than I ever imagined. Are you okay?”

You nod breathlessly, clutching hard to his shoulders as he slides even deeper, biting your lip. You don’t care that it turns out you weren’t rivals, you weren’t about to let Aonung see how tense you are. But he can probably feel it, given that you’re clenching around him already, and he hasn’t even bottomed out yet.

He just goes in and in and in. When you think he’s all in, he rocks another inch into you and whispers how well you’re doing. He’s careful to be gentle, stroking your hair and muttering praise to you- but you’re still impatient.

You hardly care how much you get hurt, just wanting him inside you, stretching you, marking you, ruining you, and you drop further down so the head of his cock starts to press into you. You try to lift, to fuck yourself further onto his cock, and he holds you down to adjust.

It’s not like you want the pause when he finally bottoms out, but you sit and breathe and whimper, trying to get used to the burning stretch of it all. Aonung’s breathing heavily too, trembling with the effort it’s obviously taking him not to just move and rut and demolish you. When he shakily looks up, his eyes meet yours, all dark with lust and wide with ecstacy, and he finally pulls out just an inch before snapping it back into you.

You gasp, and Aonung hisses. When he’s sure you’re alright, he pulls out, pushes back in, and you annihilate the last pretences of rivalry. It seems impossible now, that you once disliked him. Hated those blue eyes raking over you, despised the large hands holding you so gently while he thrusts into you, detested that smile with those lips that now make you melt.

You’re gasping and moaning and cursing with every thrust, breath getting knocked the fuck out of you again and again and again until you’re living off the tiny moments in which he’s pulled out, where you feel cold and empty and longing to be stuffed and stretched around him again.

It doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to grow again, and by the way Aonung is hissing and groaning and burying his face in your neck, you can tell he’s close too. His hands are gripping the bed so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if it broke. When you arch up, tits pressing against his chest in a way that makes him moan shamelessly, you can see every muscle in his back rippling, each muscle in his arm taut as he thrusts into you. It has you clenching tight around him.

“Fuck,” he’s muttering, again and again, large and muscular and heavy above you.

You aren’t sure what makes you do it, maybe your natural, primal urge to beat him like you’ve always longed to is taking over, but you’re suddenly rolling over and pushing him back against the bed. His eyes are wide and worshipful as you steady yourself with hands on his chest, hands jumping to your hips pressed against his own, him sheathed deep inside you.

You rock on him, thighs burning as you lift yourself up and down in a welcome pain, that familiar coil building up and up and up. Aonung stares up at you, eyes wide and dark and curious and worshipful and hungry. And then it suddenly crests, in a welcome, overwhelming flood of pleasure.

You aren’t even aware of it- too busy ascending into fucking heaven, stuck in a place where you cant see or hear or do anything- you just know wave upon wave of overwhelming pleasure crashing into and over you. When you slowly come down, vision returning in bright bursts, you have a split second to note the awe and reverence in Aonung’s eyes before something seems to take over him, and his gaze is darkening and he’s lost control.

It never occurred to you, just how gentle he’d been, until he’s completely let go, allowed the crushing desire to overcome him. He's half thrusting up into you, half picking up and slamming down your body onto him, and you're unravelling into a moaning, trembling mess on top of him, teeth sunk into his shoulder to try and quiet your sounds, because you sure as fuck can't hold them in.

You yelp as he speeds up now, brutal and animalistic as the last tenterhooks of his final restraint snaps and he buries himself deep inside you. He's hissing a million unintelligible words against your skin as he spills himself inside you, rocking his hips the whole time until he finally comes to a shaky stop.

You can’t breathe. You don’t know if you want to- you’re perfectly content as you just collapse against Aonung, lying warmly against his solid chest, his muscular arms automatically reaching out to wrap around you and roll you over so he can cuddle you properly. He presses a gentle kiss to your collar, before speaking softly.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly.

You can’t think of anything to say, you just exhale shakily and give a small, trembly laugh, holding his hand in yours and leaning against him.

“Change your mind about me?” Aonung asks lightly. “Still think I’m a skxawng?”

“Absolutely,” you huff, grinning up at him. “I should get home-”

“Stay,” Aonung says, hugging you closer. “This will be your home, might as well get used to it.”

You smile against his chest. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, not when a day ago, he was your rival. But you’re more than happy to try, so you lean your head into the crook of his shoulder, his arm trailing down to cloak the curve of your waist.

“We have training in the morning,” you point out. “The warriors will be-”

“Our warriors won’t be anything I say they shouldn’t be,” Aonung shrugs. “You’re forgetting who you’re lying with.”

You roll your eyes.

“Skxawng.”

[what-even-is-thiss]

I don’t really talk much about my personal history with eating disorders and especially my bulimic tendencies partially because I’m just not that emo about it like it genuinely doesn’t bother me anymore and partially because I’m still obese after all that and people just don’t wanna confront the fact that all that nonsense just doesn’t make you skinny. It doesn’t even work. Like not only is it bad and dangerous it doesn’t even work. Like. I went through all that and what did I get? A cavity.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend to lose weight?

Okay, so that sounds horrific, but bear with me.

To be clear, I (23M) could not care less what weight she (27F) is or what she looks like. I love this woman with my whole heart and none of it is about her appearance. We’re pretty much engaged in all but name, the only reason it’s not official is because we don’t have money to even think of weddings right now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.

Thing is, she’s obese. Like, medically, not in a derogatory sense. This is massively affecting her health. She’s constantly out of breath, constantly in pain, constantly struggling, and it’s leading to other conditions such as sleep apnea. She thinks she has asthma because she’s always struggling to breathe, but I’m 95% sure it just comes down to weight and her doctor has said the same, but she tends to write it off as doctors being fatphobic.

Much of this is due to the fact that she used to struggle with binge-eating disorder. She no longer binge eats, but she does overeat in general because her body is so accustomed to constant food, so she gets painfully hungry and dizzy after 2-3 hours of not eating.

I’ve tried to encourage her to exercise with me, diet with me, count calories etc., but she gives up super easy when she doesn’t see immediately results. She also says herself that she finds it very difficult to see herself accurately - she has the reverse of “typical” body dysmorphia, where she sees herself as thinner than she is, so she genuinely sees herself as thin or like slightly curvy. (To be clear, she is very visibly obese, people comment on this often, and while I’ll be the first to go fists up if someone’s a dick to her about it as people have been I also am genuinely worried about her health.) Because of that she has no motivation to lose the weight because she just doesn’t see it. It’s bad enough that she’s been told by doctors she WILL likely struggle later in life with heart failure, diabetes etc if she doesn’t lose weight, yet her POV is more, “It can’t be that bad because I’m not that big so I don’t need to worry about it”. She has occasional reality checks, most recently she put her measurements into some site that shows an image of what you look like from a third person perspective, and she was completely shocked like “I can’t look like that. Do I? This is a wake up call”, but days later it’s completely lost and she’s back to saying she’s not that big again.

She wants kids with me, and I just absolutely do not want to commit to having children with her when I know there’s a not-insignificant chance she’ll have serious health issues in the future that could mean she’s not with us for as long as she could be. Both for the kids’ sake, and selfishly because I want her around! I don’t want to think about something happening to her earlier in life and being without her.

But I just don’t know what to do. Gently suggesting it hasn’t worked, saying I’m worried about her health hasn’t worked, saying I don’t want kids until she’s healthy hasn’t worked (even if she’s still overweight I really don’t care as long as she’s not in a “danger zone” y’know?), trying to meal plan with her hasn’t worked, trying to get her to keep track of calories hasn’t worked, trying to exercise with her hasn’t worked.

People I’ve asked in the past have told me to be firm about it, but I’m incredibly reluctant to do that - I struggled with anorexia for most of my teenage and adult life and I know how deep it can cut to have your weight criticised or commented on. I don’t want to be that dick who basically calls someone I love very much unhealthy and fat and tells her to lose weight or no kids or some horrible shit like that.

But I just. Can’t work out what to do. She does express a willingness to lose weight, she says she wants to, she just doesn’t have that motivation to do it. I don’t know what else we can try.

AITA for focusing on this in the first place? Like am I actually just being fatphobic, or is my own past with EDs influencing my thinking? Am I going about it all wrong? Should I just accept it as something that’ll be a potential issue in future and deal with it then or am I fair to worry about it early on?

What are these acronyms?

[aropride]

intro to epidemiology course at a school in my state lists “modern plagues” such as “aids, cancer, and obesity” and well personally i think covid-19 and its long term effects on the body and the way its being spread unmitigated is FAR more dangerous to society than um. fat people existing? but what do i know.

[richiehugs]

Chris

An old friend of a friend.

Chris is your average 5'11 / 180cm Middle European guy with a remarried mom and a rich father. He used to spend his summers with friends and family in exotic places, or at some local beach.

He was a skinny boy in the early 2010's when he had just turned 18. He was a sporty guy, playing football and doing karate, and of course, he liked to party.

After his graduation, he got a job at an airfield as a security guard, and let's say, it wasn't as active as he might have expected.

Because he started piling on the kilos. He was exercising less, but still going out with his friends and traveling with his family and his girlfriend. He was enjoying life, but life had some unexpected turns for him. He was becoming less and less active on social media, he wouldn't post anything shirtless anymore. He wouldn't take his shirt off anymore even around friends. He knew he got chubby, and he was feeling embarrassed (though it wouldn't stop his beer-bellied friends to mock him - what are friends for, right?).

But then, in 2017, he met a girl at his workplace. The circumstances of the end of his previous relationship are unknown to me. But he was starting to look happier. And rounder.

He must have passed 100 kilos around 2018 - and 110 around 2019. His girlfriend was obviously pampering him, living at his parents house, they didn't have to worry about the slightest thing. Only his weight and his figure. His clothes were dangerously tight, showing every curve of his swollen body.

So he married her. He became a father. And then the pandemic happened.

For anyone he knew from before, he got unrecognizable. From 2020 to 2023, he must have been bounced further up to 120, or even 125 kilo / 280 pounds. His double chin was covering his entire neck. His moobs were resting on his belly, which formed a round ball under his shirt. Sucking it in wouldn't help anymore.

Due to the pandemic, he had to leave his job as airports for closed. He started a job at IKEA as a sales manager. Must have been the stress and the IKEA food that turned even him to a meatball.

But sadly, before turning into Nikocado, another turning point - his wife left him. The reason is again, unknown, but my bet would be his ex gf.

His ex was starting to spend more time with him, and boom, they made up. The girl had become a fitness coach - some sort of freak running marathons and such. Well, Chris has never run a marathon - but he has tried running before.

He started off 2023 with 120+ kilos, beautiful, obese, an aspiring superchub, growing uncontrollably 20 pounds a year - by the end he must have dropped around 20 kilos. So at around 100 kg / 220 lbs, he remains thick, he still has a dadbod, but sadly his best days have faded away. His ex, the old-new gf changed him, his lifestyle, his perfect shape, but he is happy.

This was the story of Chris, a friend of a friend. From 75 kilos to 125 kilos - and then back to 100. The pictures are from 2011 (18yo) to 2023 (30yo).

Not an influencer. Not sharing any names or socials. Please, don't reuse any of the pictures.

[transmutationisms]

could you talk more on eds and biopolitics?

sure, so this is broad strokes and it's also worth reiterating that the energy deficit characteristic of EDs can have a lot of different causes besides intentional food restriction—food insecurity is a huge and underrecognised factor here but there are many others. so when i talk about intentional restriction and the desire to be thin / lose weight, i'm not suggesting these are universal characteristics or causes of EDs.

anyway though, in the context of discussing these things, and particularly the relationship between 'diet culture' and EDs, a perennial frustration to me is that i often hear people fall back on the idea that the desire to be thin comes about as a result of the beauty standards perpetuated in mass media, fashion adverts, &c, without any subsequent interrogation of why it is that beauty itself is now so heavily dependent on thinness. after all, plenty of people have pointed out this is not a universal; beauty varies in different times and places, what is described or depicted as beautiful in historical records doesn't necessarily have much overlap with today's hegemonic standards, and so forth.

so when historicising this phenomenon it becomes very clear that the euro/anglo standard of thinness as beauty is, one, part of the ideological apparatus justifying colonialism thru the creation of race and white supremacy. sabrina strings and da'shaun harrison have written on this. two, the thin ideal is also inextricably tied up in medical discourses defining the ideal body as one that is economically productive, with the promise being that if the populace can be transformed into 'healthy',*** useful, hardworking citizens, the state benefits. control of bodyweight is therefore certainly a means of demonstrating one's supposed self-control, moral discipline, &c, but it is also a demand expressed in medical terms: these two discourses merge and overlap, and are both part of the capitalist state's transformation of its citizenry into a biological resource that can be controlled, managed, and exploited to bourgeois ends (profit): hence, biopolitics.

(***the story of how 'health' itself comes to be so dependent on thinness is obviously a critical piece of all this but this post is long as shit already so suffice it to say that this conflation is also not obvious, necessary, universal, &c &c)

medico-political discourses in the 19th century tended to talk about the dangers of both over- and under-weight more than what we hear now; similarly, if you think about something like wilbur atwater's calorie-value charts, these were explicitly intended to guide labourers to the most calorie-dense foods, because to atwater the central danger to be avoided was starvation among the workforce. these days in wealthy countries like the us, you are much more likely to hear about weight management in the context of demands to reduce; this is of course following moves like the WHO declaring an 'obesity epidemic' in 1997, and the rise in the usa of more explicitly nationalist, militaristic weight-loss rhetoric in the post-9/11 era.

however, my position is that these demands for thinness, and the beauty standard that follows and justifies them, are not a departure from earlier 19th- and 20th-century scientific nutrition advice, just an evolution that, for a multitude of reasons (politics, medical professional interests, insurance company practices, &c) has simply come to focus more on the ostensible economic and national threat posed by fatness. the underlying logic bears the biopolitical throughline: the state has, or ought to have, an interest in enforcing the health of its population, and as part of this demands that you the individual surveil and alter your weight according to the scientific guidelines du jour.

this is fertile ground for the development of what, in extreme form, we regard as ED pathology. first, because even the most purely 'health'-motivated individual engaging in the required degree of bodily monitoring and caloric restriction is liable to respond to energy deficit in ways that can become diagnosably distressing. second, because the morals of 'health' are never far from standards of beauty; thinness is sold in overtly profitable ways (the diet and weight-loss industries) and furthermore, our idea of beauty is often a kind of post hoc justification for the thinness already being demanded by state and medical authorities. which is really just to say, beauty is part of the ideological superstructure both resulting from and invoked as a justification for the material conditions of capitalist biopolitics. again this is very broad strokes, but imo it is a much more useful framework to understand EDs than simply presenting them as a result of desiring thinness because it is glorified in The Media, because... reasons (essentially the rené girard model, lol).

[libby-for-life]

can we PLEASE get a part 2 of Adam being given to Lucifer and Lilith as a peace offering, maybe it would be about the two yandere trying to woo Adam, OH or maybe throwing a party for him introducing him as the second queen of hell

My my. You are a genius, my dear. Though I was thinking more Consort to the King and Queen. Read part one of the Deal.

Adam was confused, to say the least. Didn't they hate him? Didn't they leave him? Didn't they want him dead?

But as he was hugged by Lucifer and Lilith in the back of a limousine, he couldn't help but feel very confused. He shivered when he felt Lucifer's claws gently run through his hair and how Lilith's soothing humming filled the car.

"You're still so beautiful," Lucifer said, hugging him and Lilith brushed a hand over his toned stomach.

"Wait. Just wait." Adam gasped out as he felt hands roam over him. They stopped immediately and looked at him in concern. "Why are you acting like you want me all of a sudden? You made it quite clear in the Garden you didn't want me." Adam felt the hurt, bitterness, and self-loathing seep into his body.

They were quiet for a moment before he felt a clawed hand pull his face down to Lucifer's level. "Adam, we never wanted you to feel that way and we're sorry we did. We wanted you with us, but the moment we tried, Michael banned us from the Garden." Lucifer explained.

"Everything happened so fast," Lilith added. "And by the time we were banished to Hell, we had already lost you."

Adam refused to cry. What if this was a lie to lead him into a false sense of security? He had to be resilient. He had to be strong-willed. But as he felt hands caress him so lovingly, Adam felt himself melting. God forgive him, but he was a sucker for touch.

The next few months were filled with confusion and longing. He didn't trust Lucifer and Lilith but they were the only ones keeping him safe from the dangers of Hell. What if he refused them too much and he was kicked out of their home?

So when Lilith kissed his cheek, it took all of his self-control to not run away. She looked deep into his eyes and she frowned.

"I'm sorry. I went too far. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." She didn't try to kiss him again but she also didn't stop saying she loved him. Neither of them did.

Slowly, but surely, Adam realized they weren't just keeping him as some sort of sick entertainment. No one could be this good at acting and not show any tells.

So, Adam allowed them to touch him. He allowed them to give him presents instead of refusing them. He allowed them to say the words, "I love you."

And one day, he said it back. Two years. It took him two years of them consistently loving him unconditionally, but when they ate breakfast together and Lucifer gave him some pancakes to eat, his favorite, the Devil told Adam that he loved him.

Asam smiled with a blush staining his cheeks and shyly replied, "I love you, too." Lucifer dropped his syrup and Lilith choked on her tea. "What?" Lucifer asked in a small voice.

"I love you. Both of you."

Lilith smiled and hugged him close while Lucifer teared up and clung to his side. "We love you. We love you so much, Adam."

Adam didn't notice the obsession growing in their eyes. He didn't notice how they held him possessively, demon features poking out. He just felt safe and protected.

"Are you sure this looks good on me? I'm not exactly...the right shape to be wearing this." Adam mumbled, embarrassed. He was wearing a short gold dress that hugged his chubby figure. Three years in Hell and he put on some weight from the treats and gifts through food he was given. He was by no means obese, but he was definitely chubby. He also grew more demonic, his soul becoming corrupted due to being exposed to Hell for so long. He now resembled a ram, with small curly horns, a fluffy black tail, hooves, and ram ears. Ears that Lucifer and Lilith loved playing with.

"Oh, Adam. You look beautiful no matter what size you are." Lilith said as she applied makeup to her lover. Adam smiled, blushing deeply at her comment.

"I agree. Besides, it just means more to hold." Lucifer said with a smirk before caressing a hand over his love handles. Adam squeaked and swatted his hand playfully.

They were getting ready for a big party. A party that was officially introducing Adam as the King and Queen of Hell's Consort. They wanted him to be their Queen as well, but Adam pointed out that was not how the ruling system worked. He read up on the ways of Hell's hierarchy and he did not want anyone rioting because the system wasn't being followed.

"This was the system you made, might I add," Adam said when Lucifer just said they could change it. "We want them to accept me. Not be angry because you don't follow your own rules."

They finally agreed to Adam being their Consort before making sure they knew he was still important and not less than them just because he wasn't a Queen with Lilith.

Adam honestly didn't care as long as he spent all his time with his lovers.

They walked into the Palace's ballroom where all of Hell's most important figures danced or talked with each other. They looked up and bowed before the King and Queen, but looked at Adam, confused as to why a sheep demon was walking alongside the most important figures in Hell.

"Everyone. Might I have your attention?" Lucifer said, gaining the room's attention. He brought Adam forward as he blushed under the attention. "This is Adam. He is Lilith's and mine's Consort." Several gasps had filled the room and some really looked at Adam, sizing him up.

Adam tried not to squirm under their piercing gaze.

"Now, if anyone has a problem, I don’t give a shit," Lucifer said with a grin. "Let the party begin!"

Adam was having fun! He danced with Lilith and Lucifer, ate good food, and even talked with some of the Hellborn Aristocrats but found them a bit judgemental.

It was a quarter to midnight when it happened. Adam was drinking some champagne and relaxing in a chair when he heard voices behind him.

"He doesn't look very pretty next to them. Far too fat next to the King and Queen of Hell."

"And so plain! Even makeup can't fix a fatass. A pig in a dress is still a pig."

"Do you think they even have sex with him?"

"Do you think he breaks the bed?"

Chuckles and whispers filled Adam's ears and he felt himself blush in shame. He knew it. He didn't deserve to stand next to demons so pretty and powerful.

"Adam? What's wrong?" Lucifer asked as he sat down next to him. "Nothing. Want to dance?" Adam tried to change the subject. He should have known Lucifer knew him too well to be swayed.

"Adam. You can tell me." Adam didn't say anything but Lucifer must have caught the whispering. His eyes turned red and he looked five seconds away from tearing them apart.

"Lucifer. Let it go. I don't want you killing them." Adam said firmly. Lucifer looked ready to argue but reluctantly agreed. "Fine. I won't kill them. But I want you to come with me." Adam was led away to a spare bedroom, but not before a quick mind message to Lilith was made.

'Some scum are insulting Adam. Take out the trash.'

Lilith smirked as an image of the demons responsible for making her lamb cry was revealed. She gently excused herself from the demon she was talking to before making her way over to the demons laughing in a corner. Time to make a public example.

Everyone turned when they heard screams fill the ballroom. They turned to see Lilith holding three decapitated heads in one gloved hand. She was smiling and looked at everyone as if she hadn't just brutally killed three powerful members of the Goetia Household.

"Now, these three died because they insulted my Consort. That simply won't do." She burnt the corpses and the heads in purple fire. "Anyone who insults my Consort will suffer the same fate. Are we clear?"

Everyone was quick to give them their reply while she laughed. "Wonderful! Have you tried the cake? Simply divine!"

"Ah~!" Adam moaned as he felt fingers dig into his hair and pull. He was always sensitive to touch like this.

"My beautiful lamb, I love you and your body." Lucifer purred and Adam moaned when a kiss was placed on his cheek. "Say you're the cutest lamb, my love. Say it."

"I'm the cutest lamb!" Adam cried when his neck was bitten. "Good boy~."

Lilith had told him that she had killed the demons who hurt Adam and even showed an image of their burnt ashes before it was cleaned up along with their blood.

No one could hurt Adam. No one.

"Ready to get out of this dress, my little lamb?"

"Ah~!"

[sam24]

Metal Arm Cupid

Summary: Bucky didn't know what to expect in the 21st century. But he definitely didn't expect cute girls to barge into meeting rooms and beat people up.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

*****

Bucky made no attempt to stifle his yawn as he pretended to listen to the debrief (that was looking more like an argument to him) that was going on way too long for his liking, earning a sharp glare from Steve, but Bucky could tell that deep down, Steve wanted to hightail outta there too.

“Stop taking all the credit, Josh. I was the one who stabbed him. You just sat there and watched like an obese cow.”

Josh (Bucky thought his name was Jack until now) scoffed. “That’s Agent 16 to you, Avery.”

“It’s actually Avril, you little-”

“Agents, you better stop this instantly.” Fury narrowed his eyes at the bickering partners.

“Stop embarrassing me in front of the Avengers, Evelyn, and let me do the talking. Clearly you can’t because of those oversized donkey teeth of yours.” Josh paid no heed to Fury.

The girl (Avril?) gasped and her hand instinctively flew to cover her mouth. “Why you-”

“Okay, that’s enough.” A dangerously calm voice rang through the room.

All eyes flew towards Natasha, you looked like she was going to murder the next person who opened their mouth.

“This is why I don’t go on missions with sensitive baby agents.” She muttered in Russian.

Bucky cracked a smile.

“How come no one listens to me?” Fury grumbled.

“Probably because you aren’t a trained assassin with 20 different weapons hidden on your body, and I bet you also don’t know 5 different ways to kill someone with an oven mitt.” Clint whispered in Fury’s ear.

“It doesn’t matter who stabbed who, it matters what happened in the end. And in the end, I was the one you saved your ungrateful asses, so you can stop arguing like toddlers now.” Natasha growled.

Her eyes narrowed specifically at Josh.

Nobody spoke. Probably because no sane person wanted a bullet from Natasha’s gun in their head.

“You seriously couldn’t have done that 20 minutes ago?”

Of course, though, Tony Stark was far from sane.

“Shut up, Tony.” At least 5 different people said at the same time.

Josh cleared his throat, recovering from his mini paralysis stroke.

“No offense, but-”

Before Josh could get himself killed, loud voices outside of the door made everyone turn.

Honestly, they all probably would’ve turned even to watch a fly so they could ignore Josh’s excuses.

“Miss, I can’t let you-”

“I really don’t care, so move. Now.”

Bruce immediately sat up. “Is that Ace?”

“Oh, thank god.” Tony let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “I’m so bored right now, maybe she’ll make this actually interesting.”

Even though Bucky’s stay at the compound started recently, he had heard plenty of stories about you, the infamous ‘Ace’. To what he’d heard, you worked at the lab with Bruce and Tony, like a daughter to them both. You were an ‘intellectual sage’ (described by Barton), hence the nickname, Ace.

“I said, MOVE!”

“Banner, what is the meaning of this?” Fury ordered.

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows and completely ignored him. “What in the world is she doing?”

“Banner!”

“I SAID MOVE, DAMNIT.” A loud thud followed closely and the door was flung open so hard it practically ripped off of its hinges.

“Lord have mercy.” Bruce buried his face into his hands as you barged into the room, pulling along a terrified looking girl behind you.

Bucky’s eyebrows raised with interest as he took in your purple highlights, Converse High-Tops, and Gravity Falls shirt peeking out from under your lab coat.

“Look, missy, in case you haven’t noticed, this is a private meeting. I’m going to give you 5 seconds to leave before I have you escorted out instantly.” Fury demanded.

“Yeah, that’s cool, Patchy the Pirate, just give me a minute.” You weren’t even looking at Fury as you scanned the room.

“Ha! Patchy the Pirate! Laura’s gonna love this!” Clint smacked his hand on the table and leaned his chair back (and almost fell backwards if Steve didn’t catch it, but that’s not the point).

Fury looked like he was seriously contemplating life as you still didn’t spare him a glance, and your narrowed hawk eyes landed on someone behind Bucky.

He followed your gaze to meet Josh, who had raised two fingers in the air cockily to greet you and the girl behind you.

“Josh, you mother fucker.”

And before Steve could say ‘language!’ (yes, Bucky had caught on pretty quickly after Tony would say it every other sentence), you had crossed the room in what felt like just two strides and socked Josh right in the jaw.

The room erupted in chaos.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Steve was up on his feet in a millisecond, his Captain America side taking over.

“That’s it, honey! Do it again!” Tony cheered.

“Is this some kind of Midgardian greeting that I have not yet been informed of?”

“Someone tell me what the hell is going on in my own meeting!”

“That was the best thing I’ve seen in my whole life.” Avril grinned.

Natasha didn’t say anything, but her face clearly said ‘girl, me too’.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Sam chuckled from next to Bucky.

“Same.” Bucky muttered under his breath.

“Whoa hold up, did you just agree with me??”

“Shut up, pigeon brain.”

“Excu-”

The only thing that stopped Sam and Bucky’s cat fight was another punch to Josh’s precious face, this time right in the nose.

Bruce tried to reason with you from across the whole ass room, practically shouting over all the commotion as Steve tried to pull you away from Josh.

“Ace, sweetheart, why don’t you talk it out instead of going straight to violence? Doesn’t that sound like a better idea?”

“Sounds great, Bruce, but that’s not an option anymore!” You shouted back over your shoulder.

“Look, champ, it’s not right to randomly punch people like that!” Steve was still trying to pry you away from Josh.

“Look, Pops,” You mocked. “It’s also not right to cheat on your girlfriend with some random chick you ran into at a bar!”

Everything stopped.

Except Josh’s struggling from your grasp.

“He cheated on you?” Tony broke the silence, looking like he was going to blast Josh into outer space. “Wait, when were you guys even together? And why in the goddamn world would you date that guy?”

“Not me, dimwit, her.” You point your free hand that was not gripped on Josh’s collar at the girl behind you, looking ready to sprint out of there when all eyes landed on her.

“Just leave it, ma moitié, it’s not worth it.” She said quietly, her words coated in a thick french accent.

Bucky recognized her as the nice agent who gave him a coffee last week after Sam ‘accidentally’ knocked over Bucky’s.

“Just leave it? Absolutely not, hun!”

“Listen to her, Ace.” Bruce pleaded.

“No! This sleazy bastard cheated on my best friend! No fucking way! Literally, who the hell would cheat on a cute french girl?”

“Ace, violence isn’t the right way to-”

“Excuse me?” Josh’s voice rang out, sounding like someone was holding his nose closed shut. “Can someone get me an ice pack?”

You whipped around towards him.

“You. Want. An. Ice pack.” You restated, shooting daggers- no, 7 inch sharp kitchen knives at him.

“My nose hurts.” Josh rolled his eyes. “Y’know, after you turned all Crazy Psycho Lady on me and broke it.”

“You know what?” Your smile dripped with bitterness and sarcasm. “How about I punch it again so it’ll go numb and it won’t hurt anymore?”

You reached your arm backwards to land another punch, but Steve rushed to grab you again, and the chaos resumed.

Tony was instructing you to “kick Steve in the balls and resume beating the shit out of Josh”, while Bruce was very strongly vetoing the idea.

Sam and Clint, meanwhile, were placing bets on how much the medical bill was gonna be.

Suddenly, Bruce rushed over to Bucky.

“Look, man, you gotta help me.”

Bucky looked at Bruce with wide eyes. “Me?”

“Yeah! If you tell her to stop, she would in a heartbeat!”

“Why?” Bucky knew where this was going.

“Because of your metal arm!”

Bucky’s heart sank. Of course you were scared of it. Everyone was. They thought it made him a monster.

So did he.

Even though he was so, so grateful to Shuri for trying to help him feel like a new person with a new arm that wasn’t associated with HYDRA, that bloody ruthless murderer that they made him into never seemed to leave.

He would always be him.

No matter how hard he tried, the memories followed him like a lost puppy, attacking at night when he was trying to sleep.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake off the imprint HYDRA had left on him.

No matter how hard he tried or how much Steve told him otherwise, Bucky was still a monster.

A cruel, cold-hearted, evil monster who killed the innocent.

Who killed innocent men, women, and children who didn’t deserve to be killed.

He was the one who deserved to be killed.

“She’s absolutely obsessed with it!”

Bucky choked on his spit.

“Wha-w-what?”

“She adores it.” Bruce rushed. “She says it’s, and I quote, the most beautiful and extraordinary thing to ever be made in history.”

Okay, so apparently Bucky did not know where that was going.

“Still not convinced?” Bruce groaned. “She thinks it’s the most amazing thing in the galaxy. She says it’s the ‘peak of engineering’. You can ask Tony if you still don’t believe me.”

Tony wasn’t extremely fond of Bucky, and neither was Bucky of him, so he decided to take Bruce’s word for it, no matter how much it shocked him.

She likes my arm?

Just because she likes your arm doesn’t mean she likes you, idiot.

“Uh, okay? So, um, what do I do?”

“Tell her to stop!” Bruce lightly shoved Bucky forward when he slowly got up out of his seat.

Bucky hesitantly took a step forward, his mind still trying to process everything.

Bucky maneuvered around Steve, tapping you - who was still out to get it for Josh- on the shoulder after a moment of hesitation.

“Bruce, I already told you, it’s too late-” You spun out of Steve’s grip, but your mouth dropped open when you realized it was not Bruce.

You stared at Bucky with wide eyes. But not out of fear.

Out of adoration.

He was struck with a sudden flash of nostalgia of how his mom looked at him when he gave her a card for Mother’s Day when he was 6.

"Oh, Jamie, I love it.” She had said as she read it with a soft smile.

And that same smile was on your face. “Um, hi there.”

He smiled back.

But not one of those fake smiles he put on to make Steve happy. An actual genuine smile.

And it felt good.

You smoothed out your coat, taking in a breath. “Can I help you?”

Steve stared at the two of you, a grin spreading onto his face.

“I’m not surprised. Those psychos are perfect for each other.” Josh rolled his eyes.

Neither of you heard him.

“Hi, I’m Bucky.”

“She knows.” Tony groaned.

“Shut up, Tony.” Your eyes never left Bucky’s. “Hi Bucky.”

He saw your eyes light up as they made their way to look at his metal arm.

Bruce cleared his throat loudly.

“So, um, Ace. The arm has been giving me a bit of trouble recently. I was wondering if you could maybe take a look at it?” Bucky glanced at Bruce before looking back at you.

“He means now.” Bruce added.

You looked like you were going to faint out of excitement.

“Y-yeah, of course.”

Bruce let out a loud sigh of relief.

“Um, actually.” Bucky started.

Bruce’s head shot up and started mouthing something to Bucky - probably something along the lines of ‘No! Get her out of here before she kills him!’- but he was busy looking at you.

“Maybe you wanna grab a coffee first?”