#im just trying to weigh out on a scale of how likely it would be that she would attempt to put me in a psych hospital

[evandore]

my situation is bad but i could make it worse

[igotfatter]

Here’s a series im starting called “ real life stories about my fat ass ex” due to popular demand.

Please note: I am not a writer and I am severely dyslexic, I am trying my best to give you guys a cohesive story with no spelling errors . ALSO we are no longer together. It was an awful break up. but I would want the stories too if I saw the transformation and I owe you all something, so I’m gonna give you what I got periodically. I’ll try to attach a few photos.

A big 410lbs

There are a few pretty hot stories I haven’t really shared before. One of the best examples of his narcissism (he’s my ex, and no matter what, he’s always going to be a narcissist to me) is when our scale didn’t go past 400 pounds. He never weighed himself regularly, but I could tell even he was starting to get nervous about his weight. He was clearly outgrowing his clothes, yet he stuck to the same brand every day. I couldn’t tell at first that he was going up in size because he kept replacing his shirts with bigger ones. However, he couldn’t replace his work shirt, and eventually, his belly got so big that he had to wear his own personal shirt underneath. That’s when I started really noticing how much weight he was gaining.

The best part, I swear, was like something straight out of fate. I’d never noticed it before, but in the building next to ours, there was this industrial scale just sitting there. It ended up being the building’s recycling scale, but it was there for anyone to use. (It was as random as im making it sound). At first, I didn’t go down there with him, but he was so excited when he weighed 410 pounds. I thought, “Really, babe? You sure about that?” It had been a while since our home scale broke, but the only joy I got from his weight sexually was observing and enabling, (in our four year relationship we had sex one time that’s where we were at ) so if he wasn’t concerned, I wasn’t going to be concerned.

What I later realized was that his “weight loss journey” was just keeping the scale from going up. As long as the number didn’t change, he could keep ordering Uber Eats while never leaving his recliner. I absolutely loved this man 80% of the time , but if I brought up his eating habits or simply walking downstairs or to the door because I was busy doing something, he became a different person if I was not serving him. And all honestly in a messed up way, I kind of got off on the domination. I accepted that his life choices were his to make, and I wasn’t going to trying to save him from himself. That’s when I decided to just love him for who he was, even if he claimed he wasn’t gaining any weight… fine.

Over the next six weeks, he went from kind of trying to limit his Uber Eats orders and making “butter dogs” (packs of hot dogs fried in lard that he snacked on throughout the day) to back to ordering Uber Eats four times a day, constantly eating in total gluttony. I noticed his clothes were fitting even worse, and he started having trouble with basic hygiene in the bathroom. I thought, “Either I’m losing my mind or something’s up.” So, after a particularly bad hygiene issue, I went down with him to the recycling scale.

This guy, who is truly brilliant when it comes to book smarts, didn’t realize that when the dial on the scale stopped at 410 pounds, it was because the scale didn’t go any higher. He had long blown past 410, That’s when we finally got a bigger scale for the house. And he was just over 500lbs

(Photo of him, making the butter dog with the shirt underneath the work)

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 14.

Summary: Our second look through Oliver's eyes as he thinks back on the night he and Felix get champagne drunk on the bridge, and then when he gets to Saltburn. Looking around both Y/N and Felix's rooms, he gets to know more about them, and finally he meets the Catton Family.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, reader is said/implied to be high for some of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 8506 words. you have all deserved a good feed and i am here to provide. sorry it's been a week, the dam broke, things are looking good in my personal life which is nice, and i am BACK on main fic nonsense. we get another Ollie POV, please let me know what you think, im so excited to have everyone at the estate and hanging out!! got big plans going forward!! excited to be setting it all up!! yeah please feedback, my darling friends!!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Sometimes Oliver feels like he was put on this Earth solely to exist in Felix Catton's affectionate gaze. Everything else in life is just filler.

That night on the bridge, he and Felix in suits, drunk on champagne and bathed in the twilight of the evening, will haunt him, he's sure. He welcomes it with open arms, surfacing when his mind is idle and elsewhere. Felix smiling at him, Felix trying to bring him closure even if he doesn't really need it, Felix hanging on his every word, ever story he would fabricate to keep Felix's eyes fixed on him and only him. Felix so close, Felix with his arm around Ollie, Felix's thigh pressed up against his as they sat alone on the edge of the bridge.

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Oliver feels dwarfed by him, never more so than these moments where Felix insists on occupying Oliver's personal space, and then some. But he'll never complain; Felix's affection is intoxicating, addicting even. To be so wrapped up in it, in him, it's bliss, though Oliver never wanted to seem needy for such affection, that's why he waits for these moments, for Felix to make first contact. He wonders if Felix had realised the way you so quickly had in the beginning.

Everyone reaches out for Felix, everyone else appears so desperate. Its why Oliver's always held back from touching him, always waited and let Felix make the first move. Felix was made to be wanted, he basks in it; Oliver gives him the chance to want. Isn't there a thrill in that? A novelty?

And to be wanted by Felix... That was a gift in itself too.

Oliver had, admittedly, been worried that he'd lost his chance at that. After sleeping with you, Felix holding him at arm's length, he could feel his grip slipping. Plucking at the strings of Felix's clear saviour complex was enough to claw back into his life, but he now knew his place was precarious, and most tentative of all was everything about you.

So he'd held back from you. On purpose. Often distinctly, even when you'd give these confused, disheartened looks. He tried not to look at you in those moments; his focus was Felix, Felix seemed harder won.

But when he'd tried to apologise on the bridge - at first he wasn't going to bring it up, but it was dark and he was reasonably drunk and the only person who's ever smiled like Felix had been smiling at him in that moment had been you - Felix had, at first, laughed him off. No, he can feel it now, weighing on him; he needs to balance the scales. He wants Felix so bad it aches in his bones, but Oliver knows his want goes beyond just the beautiful boy by his side. Every part of you, how you interact with the world, interact with him, the way you exist and exude confidence and love, drew Oliver in like a moth to a flame. If Felix is the hook, you were the line. The bait, and the trap. The sun, and it's warmth. He wants to always be the focus of your loving, attentive gaze. Always wants you to want him too.

Oliver is the helpless fly in the web you and Felix have woven, to be so lovingly obsessed with you both as you are, and yet still drawn further in, to love the love you share. He feels trapped and utterly helpless against his feelings for you both.

So he has to make it right. Has to make it... even? Was that how to make it right?

But Felix is different on the bridge. Different to the jealous creature he tried so clearly to hide in the weeks before. Something had changed.

"You never need to apologise for making them happy," he says easily, affectionately. Oliver tries to be insistent, that he never meant to get between the two of you. He's rambling and tipsy, but not enough to miss the faint choked noise of what Oliver could have sworn was intrigue that Felix makes at that, but he knows better than to dwell or comment on it. Instead, Felix claps him on the back; "you wanna make it up to me we can say you owe me one," he says far too easily.

"Owe you one what?" Oliver frowns, playing oblivious for a moment as he takes a sip of the champagne before Felix gives him a cheeky wink and a grin.

"Shag, of course."

Oliver does a spit take with surprise, not having thought Felix would be so casual and genuine about it, almost falling off of the bridge in the moment. Felix catches him, arm around him as he laughs through an apology.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry mate," he wheezes, carefully clapping Ollie on the shoulder, "also I apologise for assuming, poor form, sometimes I forget people can be weird about these things- not saying you'd be weird, we've just never spoken about this kind of thing."

It speaks to how much he must genuinely trust Oliver, considering how light the conversation remains. Or perhaps it's the bubbly. Still, Oliver has a little bit of an inkling about what this kind of thing may be. But part of him needs Felix to say it, to confirm his suspicions, to keep stringing him along with further crumbs of hope.

"Assuming what?"

There's a single moment, the way in which Felix looks at Oliver out of the corner of his eyes, smile briefly frozen on his face as he must be considering the weight of what he's about to say. Its in the moment that follows, when Felix laughs almost self consciously and withdraws his hand that Oliver wonders how out Felix is. Oliver had always just kind of assumed - hoped - on the basis of his relationship with Y/N, but it occurs to him that the general perception of Felix, the talk and rumours and gossip that surrounded him, never really entertained the idea that he was actually queer. Felix's affection towards everyone in his life was simply a by-product of who he was, and you're his best friend - and his cousin, according to Farleigh - so of course you don't count, and otherwise Felix Catton was a known lady's man, right?

Not quite, it seemed.

"That you'd even be into guys like that," it sounds so easy when Felix says it, like Oliver can't see the tension in his shoulders as he reaches over, taking the bottle of champagne back. Its almost empty. Oliver doesn't mind if he finishes it.

Felix looks at the sky, at the stars.

Oliver thinks about the VHS tape of Maurice that he stole from a rental store after looking at the back cover. He'd kept it stashed in his sock drawer and watched every week under the cover of absolute darkness until it literally became unplayable. Yes, Oliver liked guys, and spent his teen years having just as many lewd fantasies about boys with posh accents, and charmingly youthful features, and floppy, brown hair, as he did about girls with big, dark eyes, and high, perfect cheek bones, in bright red wedding dresses. His sisters hated Beetlejuice, thought it was gross, but he and his mother would watch it together on occasion, sharing a blanket his gran had crocheted, and a bowl of popcorn. She'd get all giggly over Alec Baldwin, while Oliver couldn't help but fall for Winona Ryder for the duration of the film, every time.

For a moment, he thinks of the sunlit kitchen he grew up in, and his mother cooking Sunday lunch with a record playing. The last Sunday before he left for Oxford. In the yard, he can hear his father mowing the lawn, and he's sure Emily is in her room packing for her own journey back to her third year of studying. But Oliver comes out of his room just as Jump in Line (Shake Senora) begins to play. Serendipity. Already excited by the song, his mother looks up from the dishes, and practically lights up at the sight of her son. She's going to ask him to dance. He's going to say yes. They're both going to love this moment; she says it's their song, and Oliver dances along to their song. When it's over, Oliver won't admit that he's disappointed it had to end, but he tells his mother he'll miss her too when she hugs him especially tightly. For that one moment he hadn't ached to leave the way he'd been for months, for years.

Looking now at the rock in the rubbish that represented his father, there's a momentary pang of guilt for lying so dramatically about him he hadn't been expecting. So he pushes it out of his mind.

Felix finishes the bottle, and Oliver watches him wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. Effortlessly beauty.

Oliver wants to focus on his future, not his past.

"Haven't got too much experience with 'em, but that doesn't stop me from liking them well enough," feeling especially bold, he levels a sly smile at Felix, "so if it's all good with you, maybe we do say I owe you one."

Felix blushes the most beautiful scarlet as he barks a loud, pleased laugh. But most importantly, he relaxes.

"It's not that hard," he offers so nonchalantly, amending with a sheepish grin, "well it is, that's part of the point -" but Oliver can't help himself.

"I said I didn't have a lot of experience, didn't say I was completely inexperienced."

"No, I know," Felix's voice turns all smug and teasing, and Oliver can feel his face beginning to heat up as he realised the implications of Felix's tone, "I've heard rave reviews." Oliver had taken the time to have his fun, to have a few hook ups here and there in the past year, usually with girls or guys from town or other campuses who had no idea who he was otherwise. There's only one person who'd be giving him rave reviews, as Felix had called them.

Huh. It's quite the compliment; he had gone out of his way to give you the kind of attention he suspected few people ever bestowed upon you, but rave reviews? What had you actually told Felix?

Instead, considering that this still feels like potentially rocky territory, he tries to bring it back.

"It's one of the few ways I ever really learned how to make people feel appreciated," his gaze drops with his tone, and hopes that Felix takes the bait. The threads that tie back to the story of his unfortunate upbringing, but also perhaps the threads that subconsciously tie his attitude and behaviour to you in Felix's mind. Even if you don't say it, he knows it's part of how you operate, and he's willing to bet that Felix had picked up on that too.

It works. Felix wraps an arm around him, assuring him that he has so much to offer the world. God, he sounds so sincere when he says it; if Oliver hadn't knowingly baited him into the compliment, he would have believed him entirely. At the very least he basks in how good it is to hear Felix say.

They talk through the night, Oliver tentatively feeling his way towards his goal, the opportunity to spend Summer with Felix too, to make sure this connection doesn't wither in the interim. Of course he plays at being humble, at refusing the offer despite how clearly uninhabitable the sob story home he'd made up for himself was, but just as he'd predicted, Felix, ever the saviour, refuses to take no for an answer. Apparently his mother has people stay for months at a time anyhow. Oliver wonders idly if that's where Felix got it from.

"Y/N will be so pleased, I can tell you that," Felix mentioned with fondness. Of course Oliver had anticipated that you would probably be spending at least some of your Summer with them, but he's surprised that when he enquires further, Felix admits, "yeah they live with me at Saltburn when we're not at school, have for ages now."

"What, all the time? They really are a ward of the Saltburn Estate?"

Felix wears a strange little smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes; there's an unfamiliar kind of melancholy that doesn't look quite right on him, Oliver thinks, as Felix shrugs again.

"Some people's parents just aren't meant to be parents."

For a split second Oliver feels a rush of guilt as he comes to realise he may have fabricated a life for himself that you had actually lived. In the moment, however, he dips his head, a sign that he understands, that he agrees.

"Then we're lucky to have you."

Felix throws an arm around his shoulders, pulls him in tightly and presses a kiss to the side of his head, assuring him it's no trouble at all.

"What are friends for?"

Yes, this moment would be burned into his brain; Felix so warm beside him, Felix smiling against his temple, Felix champagne drunk and willing to share his life, if only for six weeks. Every fibre of Oliver's being is willing it to work out, willing it to be more than just these six weeks -

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Except the minute he knocks on the doors of the house that looms so large he feels like he's about to be swallowed whole by it, he feels like he's failed a test. The look in the terrifying doorman's eyes, his tone of voice, the unflinching scrutiny when faced with Oliver's continual awkwardness and questions, makes him feel like he's failed several more in rapid succession.

Oliver's actually pretty sure he's never been quite so glad to see Felix as the exact moment he calls out to Oliver with absolute joy. Which is saying something. It's never felt like Felix is judging him, at least not in a way he can't pass. Thank fuck. Felix, in this moment, is the only one who matters, he tells himself.

That being said, Oliver had been expecting you to be by Felix's side when he'd come bounding in to save him from Duncan's scrutiny. That's generally where he's come to expect you. Not that he wasn't grateful for Felix giving the tour, it was just... unexpected.

Honestly, when you appear from a door on the other side of the long gallery, opposite Felix's bedroom, Oliver's surprised by how relieved he is to see you. The room you've exited seems to be themed in pale purple from the brief glimpse Oliver sees, and you've got a leather bound folder in your arms, but neither of those is nearly so interesting as the look in your eyes. Looking back, Oliver sees Felix lounging in his doorframe, looking between you both with patient amusement.

"Ollie!"

Oliver's pretty sure no-one in his life has ever sounded this excited to see him. The only person who comes closes would be Felix, five minutes ago.

"Ollie, oh Ollie - Fi, hold this," you pass off your folder to Felix, who of course takes it without argument, before Oliver's swept up in a tight hug, "you're early, you smell nice," you hug him so enthusiastically the two of you spin for a moment, before pulling back, holding him at arm's length like you're assessing the state of him. Instead, you beam, holding his hands as you turned to Felix, "Fi, Ollie's here! We love Ollie!"

This time when you meet Oliver's gaze, he's surprised to see not just love, but want. You'd worn that look in the weeks before the two of you had fucked, like all you could think about was how you'd once begged him to want you, and how he of course admitted he did. When had he started missing this look in your eyes? All he can think about is that night in the warmth of your bed, the way you'd sounded so fucking certain and needy - of course I want you - and how he can see it in your eyes again now. For a moment his mind and resolve is fuzzy; why had he ever stopped reaching out for you?

"We do love Ollie," Felix agreed with further amusement, and that's when he remembers. Except... this isn't the jealous version of Felix that had shown up in the aftermath. This was the Felix who'd brushed off Oliver's apologies about the whole ordeal on the bridge and proceeded to overtly, if jokingly, flirt with him. Already he feels just a touch more relaxed in this new dynamic that was being set up for the Summer.

Actually, Oliver, for just a second, thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, Ollie, look at your nails," he hears next, however, and it immediately shatters the illusion as he pulls his hands away from you and your judgemental eyes.

"Don't be mean," Felix chides, and you look up with surprised, as if you hadn't realised your own less than complimentary tone. Looking between Oliver and Felix, there's apology in your eyes.

"Sorry Ollie," you're quick to offer, and he awkwardly tries to act like he's not embarrassed, "I'll give you a manicure, I can paint your nails; we can match!" You smiled brightly, hands pressed flat and warm to his chest all of a sudden, "I match Fi's shirt today; Farleigh painted my nails -" your eyes go wide as if you'd just remembered; "Farleigh; shit."

You run for the door to the blue room. Oliver, deeply confused, watches you go. Then, he hears Felix sigh with fond exasperation, holding out the leather folder. A moment later you burst through the door again.

"Documents. Shit. Thanks, Fi!"

And you're off again.

"Is this... how they normally are just at Saltburn?" Oliver finally asks with faint concern, looking from the door to Felix in the darkened doorframe.

"My lovely cousin is an atrocious influence on our dear Y/N," Felix said with incredible diplomacy. But Oliver's mind momentarily catches on the wording.

Our Y/N.

Just like before, a strange thrill, a rush; he remembers the look in your eyes when he'd first said 'Our Felix' to you. An exclusive kind of possessive, one you'd willingly share with Oliver. He liked this dynamic, he wondered how hard he'd have to push it to get beyond the simple semantics.

We love Ollie!

We do love Ollie.

Perhaps it wouldn't be too difficult at all.

"What do you mean?" He asks instead, and Felix turns to him with that same amused smile.

"They're fine, don't worry mate, they're just high is all," clearly Felix's feelings are mixed on the subject; Oliver knows he has no problems with getting high himself, so he suspects Felix cares more about Oliver's first impressions of his home and his family than he was wanting to let on. You were his right hand after all. There's something endearing about how much he seems to want Oliver to want to be here. Which he does, for the record.

"So this is your room?" Oliver enquires, shooting for brightness, despite the momentary awkwardness. He watches the tension leave Felix's shoulders. It's enough for Oliver, and his gaze drifts, roams around and tries to catalogue every single piece of Felix he can glean from the clutter. Even with an army of servants there's something unkempt about how he decorates the otherwise old and ornate space. CDs he'll spend time poring over, stacks of books, and trinkets, and tchotchkes. Felix even has a balcony; stone railings and enough decorative chairs, and even a lounge and small table, for company.

Here and there in the room itself, however, a few things seem out of place; shoes that didn't look like Felix's sitting neatly by the door, two dressing gowns, one maroon and tossed over the bed, the other in navy and draped more deliberately over the end of the bed. Two glasses of water, one on either side of the bed. Tell-tale signs that clue Oliver in before Felix even confirms it -

"Mine and Y/N's, yeah," he says it so easily, so nonchalantly, no bothering with pretence here at Saltburn, "you'll be staying just next door," Felix continues on with a wide, easy smile over his shoulder as he continued to flit through the rooms, catching light, voice echoing amongst the decorative walls.

"Bathroom," he offers, before turning, adding, "we're going to be sharing a bathroom, by the way, I hope you don't mind," and Oliver finds himself drawn to the sight of the ornate bath, as if on purposeful display in the middle of the room, "otherwise you'd be miles away on the other end of the house," Felix explains, continuing on without even considering his words as he says them. No, of course Oliver didn't mind.

All Oliver can think of is everything that simple sentence implied. Closeness. Implicit want. A sudden flash in Oliver's mind as Felix continues through to the dressing room, of sweat beading along skin and hands clutching desperately at the cool, porcelain edge of the tub, of water sloshing and spilling and overflowing, and the sound of breathless moaning -

He tries to focus, tries to simply watch Felix's hands as he taps idly on the red walls of the dressing room as he lead into what Oliver can only assume to be his room. He stays out of his head, leans into the moment, and lets himself relax as Felix gestures broadly, brightly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Your room!"

It's bright, all wide, open windows looking over the beautiful grounds of Saltburn, honey coloured wood and lamps that glow in such a way that he was reminded of Oxford. Already someone's brought his suitcase up, set it out at the end of the bed; he'd get to unpacking that later tonight, for now he took his time relaxing into the space. Felix had already sat himself down, seemingly at home in the old, wooden rocking chair, watching Oliver, almost like he was trying to hide his nervous anticipation.

"I'm really glad you're here, mate," for just a moment, Felix sounds more honest than he'd been since Oliver had arrived. There's something in his eyes that Oliver hadn't been anticipating, in the brief moment in which their gazes meet. There's a kind of arrogance, Oliver thinks, to calling even a sliver of it something like love, but it's adoration and appreciation nonetheless. It's gone in a flash, too brief to be anything serious, he thinks once more as Felix stands, "right, I will, er... I'll leave you to it."

And Oliver is quiet. It's a kind of reverence, or perhaps it reads like shock and awe at the whole place, but he listens quietly as Felix tells him about his mother's aversion to stubble and ugliness and piercings and -

"Anything else I should know about?" Finally he asks, sensing Felix was close to rambling on a nervous tangent. Thankfully, Felix actually seems relieved by the interruption, assuring him that there was nothing else to worry about.

Felix tells Oliver that he just needs to be himself, that his family will love him. That it's relaxed. Oliver loves Felix dearly, but doubts he, a man who rarely seems to be anything but relaxed, would be the best judge of that. Especially in a place like this. Still, Oliver smiles like he believes him, and watches the way Felix hangs himself back from the door on his heels, almost like a little kid, telling Oliver that his family will be in the library when he's ready.

Library?

His mental image of Saltburn grows with each moment. Soon it will overwhelm him, he's sure.

So he tries, just for the moment, to get acquainted with the room he's been given. His own, honey-coloured piece of Saltburn, if only for the Summer. Hopefully beyond, that dreamy little voice of want whispers in the back of his mind. Another flash of desire runs through him, the image of a quiet evening on Felix's balcony, a purple sky and a glass of scotch, book in one hand and Felix's head in his lap. He'd be too big for the little sofa, legs hanging off the edge, but he's comfortably fallen asleep with Oliver's fingers carding through his hair; when you drape yourself over Oliver's shoulders, there's loving affection in the way you call them 'your boys' -

God he'd been entertaining these fantasies for months, sure, almost since he'd met you and Felix, but never this vivid, never so detailed or hard to push away, to pretend like he'd never had them when he next tries to look you both in the eyes.

Yeah, me and Y/N's room. You're right next door. We'll be sharing a bathroom.

This is either going to be a dream, or the hardest Summer of his life. Pun entirely intended.

The room itself is rather charming, once Oliver finally breaks free of his own fantasies. Charming in a different way to the rest of the house, but in a way that was hard to put his finger on at first. Saltburn was like if a place could put on a performance of itself, none of it felt lived in, or at least, not for a very long time. Except Felix's room, it had his youth and carelessness that gave it a feeling of home, as, for some reason, did Oliver's.

Except then he sees them. Then he understands. There's space stickers on the top drawer of what he can only assume is the otherwise expensive bedside table. Some are peeled off, some even leaving the ugly, half-peeled, paper residue of planets and stars and little cartoon astronauts. The second of the two drawers is in much the same state, but depicting a faded sea creature theme. It's so unexpectedly, joyfully childish. There's two books in the top drawer, a collection of Edgar Allen Poe's short stories, and a copy of Emma. Oliver swallows hard, trying not to wonder what you must mean by that. Otherwise the drawers are empty, almost hotel-like in it's severe starkness.

There's other little things, however. Fairy lights curled up and around the headboard that glow a comforting, warm white once he finds their switch. A digital clock at odds with the rest of the room's aesthetics, red numbers glowing in the afternoon light. The painting on the wall above the bookshelf that looks far more modern than anything else he'd seen so far on the walls, a rich, blue night sky glittering with stars, and a dreamy silhouette of a figure with a cigarette almost glowing orange against the darkness. Despite the vagueness of the figure, there's a comfort, a kind of love with which they'd been captured that Oliver can somehow feel in his chest when he looks at it.

The little bookshelf itself in the corner is filled with titles he can imagine you specifically enjoying, but a few anomalies here and there - books on botany and Edwardian flower code stick out in particular. It's completed with a small stack of CDs and a CD player gathering dust on top. When he crouches down, however, he's surprised to see an old, portable cassette deck taking up space on the bottom row of the bookshelf, mostly hidden behind several stacks of what appeared to be blank cassette tapes, crammed into the very corner, almost out of sight.

How strange. How... human.

There is an echo of someone else in this room, but to his relief, it feels like you. For the barest moment, he almost feels like he's already home.

It's a short-lived feeling, however, as Felix's words come back to him once more. His reflection in the bathroom mirror as he carefully rids himself of even the barest traces of stubble, doesn't meet the standards he's sure the mother of Felix Catton must hold.

Oliver's never considered himself particularly beautiful, nor did pretty much anyone else, it had always seemed. His mother was of course biased, Felix was filled with too much affection to be considered anywhere near reliable about that sort of things, and you - something inside Oliver squirms almost with embarrassment for even thinking so poorly of himself in the past few moments. Maybe a face like his would make Felix's mum happy, if the look in your eyes meant anything, every time you saw him.

Oliver chooses to leave the way he was brought in, taking a long few moments in Felix's room, leaving it untouched, undisturbed, but treating it like a museum to his best friend, clues about his life he couldn't glean from conversation alone. Felix's bookshelves were bigger than yours, stacked with comics amid countless fantasy and adventure books, but a surprising number of cowboy and western titles, though it's not as if there appears to be any kind of sorting system. There's a ceramic bowl that looks hand made, full of faded wristbands for events all over the world for the past five years. There's a shoebox that apparently used to hold a pair of lady's runners, now sitting at the end of one row that now has 'A Stupid Box For Feefs Stupid Rocks <3' sharpied on top in handwriting he doesn't recognise. A thick textbook about space on the bottom shelf with a cracked, worn spine and sticky tabs seeming to note various pages, various guitar tab books for different, popular bands that Felix would definitely be interested in. Four decks of cards stacked on top of each other, boxes looking so worn and used they were practically falling apart.

For a very long time, Oliver finds himself caught, looking at the little cork board full of photos leaning on top of the bookshelf. Countless photos of Felix, Farleigh, Venetia, and Y/N throughout the years. He hadn't realised just how long you and Felix had even known each other. How long you'd practically been a fixture at Saltburn in the Summer. There's a photo of the four of you all in your bathers, laying asleep on the grass beside the lake, all next to each other on brightly coloured towels, none of you could have been older than twelve; you fit right in along with the rest of them.

There's a photo strip, the kind taken in a booth at a mall or a museum, that Oliver thinks he recognises, but it takes him a long moment of staring at it to figure out why. It's you and Felix, and the strip itself says it's from an aquarium. Smiling. Laughing. You blurry, covering your laughter as Felix looks particularly goofy and pleased with himself, as if he'd just told a stupid joke. The last one has been ripped off.

Oh. Right. He'd seen it while snooping through Felix's wallet a few months ago; the photo had been the reason he'd put the wallet back at all. The way the two of you were kissing in the final photo, so wrapped up in each other, and love, and joy, had made Oliver feel almost physically sick with both want and jealousy.

God, he has to leave, has to stop snooping again and actually find this library and the rest of the Cattons.

Walking through Saltburn's many rooms alone makes Oliver feel like he's constantly out of bounds at a museum. There's hints of life throughout the building, but they're few and far between compared to the ornamental, carefully curated decorations of each room. Even the hints of the Cattons themselves seemed... too purposeful. The little, animated 'Catton Family Players' puppet show is the kind of thing only rich, whimsical weirdos could ever think was charming, and not just bizarre, vain, and haunting in the same way that porcelain dolls were.

But then he hears laughter, and warm chatter from down a hall, and the tinny, purposeful shouting from what could only be a movie or TV show. It sounds so much like his own family's living room on a cheerful evening that it's almost relaxing. Almost.

Because as he's approaching, he realises they're talking about him. They're picking apart the life he'd fed Felix as if it were mere gossip, speaking so airily, their sentiment so clearly out of touch that he'd probably find it amusing if he didn't have to pretend to be living it. Briefly, he wonders if they spoke like this about your life, or if the novelty of you had worn off in the years before. Perhaps you were just glad they could focus their pity and unapologetic classicism on someone else for a change; he couldn't hear you in there, which surprised him. Maybe part of him had expected you to defend him the way you had back at Oxford. Maybe you don't feel like you can at Saltburn. At least Felix sounds embarrassed, irritated as he admonishes Farleigh for having told the rest of the family.

Before he enters the library where the rest of the family has gathered, Oliver pauses by the door, both to get a better idea of what they're already thinking about him, but also because he'd spotted someone watching him from one of the adjacent rooms.

Bleach blonde hair, stars clinging to the tights on her legs, she's reading a book that Oliver can't quite see the cover of. Venetia was written on the collar of the little, blonde puppet in the Catton Family Players; Oliver suspects this is her. Oliver thinks she could be considered very beautiful, if she didn't seem quite so sharp. The way she huffs a laugh and wears a dangerously amused smile after she'd taken her own time in analysing him seems to prove as much. That being said, Oliver's not sure if she's laughing at something about him, or about the fact that they can both clearly hear her family's disparaging remarks about his apparent upbringing.

"Farleigh seems to think he's ghastly," Oliver hears a woman say as his hand comes to rest on the door handle, "why are you and our dear pet even friends with him, darling?"

"Dirt poor, not attractive, and his parents are drug addicts," a second woman's voice seems to surmise as Oliver lets himself into the room, "I can't actually -" but Felix makes a noise as he sees the door opening, and the woman goes quiet as Oliver peers in.

"And here he is now," Farleigh sounds as thrilled as he ever was to see Oliver, "we were just talking about you," like he's trying his best to make Oliver feel as unwelcome as possible. It's... kind of working. Bastard. However looking over at him does solve one mystery; you and Farleigh are sharing a sofa at the back of the room that's only just big enough for the both of you as long as you're tucked up against him, his arm slung over the back of the chair behind you.

And you're fast asleep against him.

The blonde woman on the sofa who shares Felix's elegant, effortless beauty admonishes Farleigh, even though Oliver can tell from her voice she was one of the ones very much talking about him only moments before. Oliver has the grace to pretend like he hadn't heard, though is still glad for the vaguely embarrassed, apologetic look Felix is already giving him.

This has to be Felix's mother, the blonde with the airy voice who immediately gets up to greet him, to assess him.

"Oh, what beautiful eyes," oh thank god, "oh, how wonderful!" There's genuine surprise and adoration in the way Felix's mother regards him, and Oliver can't help but feel relieved, like he's finally passed the first of what he's sure will be many tests during his life at the Saltburn estate.

"Yeah, we told you he wasn't a minger," Felix pointed out when his mother turns to him.

"Oh, but darling, you and pet are kind about everyone; neither of you can be trusted about those you're fond of." Pet? Does she mean Y/N? Suddenly Farleigh's comments over the months make a strange amount of sense. At the very least Oliver's heart begins to sing at the idea of you and Felix speaking so kindly of him to the others that they know you're both especially fond of him... And you both seem to think he's beautiful enough that you mention it when he's not around. Huh.

But yes, the moment the woman explains her aborrance of ugliness Oliver knows he's talking to Felix's mother. At least she seems to like him well enough, going so far as to ask if he'd seen Venetia yet, that even she'd been dying to see him, but had chosen to drape herself around the house as if laying in wait for him. Indeed that's how it had seemed when he'd spotted her earlier, but none of them have let Oliver get a word in edgewise.

Felix's father is the next to introduce himself, all long limbs and warm handshake to match his smile, just like his son. When he asks Oliver about his trip to the estate, Oliver finally breathes, can finally respond.

"Oh, God, don't with the 'sirs'," Felix's mother waves him over to sit down, insisting, "no, no, no, we can't stand anything like that here," though her outburst seems to have been enough to rouse you. As Oliver sits, he hears, syrupy and warm with sleep from behind him -

"Ollie!" As you had each time since he's arrived, you sound so genuinely delightful. Farleigh makes a noise in the back of his throat. Oliver turns in time to see you elbow Farleigh in the ribs.

"I liked you better when you were asleep."

"Fars," your voice drops low, like a warning, and Oliver's surprised by how sharply Farleigh looks away, jaw clenching tightly, "be good." Oliver almost thinks Farleigh might be angry, but then he sees the gentle way Farleigh's holding your shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against your upper arm; from what Oliver can see, he realises Farleigh's expression is almost embarrassed -

"Children, stop bickering," Felix's mother orders brightly, and your expression returns to unbothered and chipper as you refocus on Oliver.

"Hi Ollie," again, then as more of an offer to the rest of the room, "isn't he just lovely?" Oliver flushes, but gives you a fond smile, even as you settle back against Farleigh. Even though Farleigh persists with glaring at him, when he turns back, he rests his cheek against your head, oozing malevolence as he seemingly tucks himself against you too. But he does indeed remain quiet.

After the altercation passes, Oliver gets a brief introduction to one of the other house guests at Saltburn, Pamela, brief being the operative word as she's quickly sent away to ask about tea from one of the staff members at Felix's mother's insistence. Pamela herself doesn't exactly seem confident in the task, but that's once again when you speak up. Much to Oliver's surprise, you give a detailed physical description of the woman - Annie - and succinct directions to the kitchen itself, following it up with a yawn and -

"The Irish one, a bit mousy, might have trouble meeting your gaze but she's nice enough."

Pamela looks far more confident thanks to your directions. Oliver's genuinely shocked at your level of detail and knowledge, but everyone else seems to be so casually used to it.

"She is a bit like that, isn't she?" Felix's mother muses with an idle air, and when Oliver glances back at you, you still have your eyes closed, as if close to falling back asleep, while Farleigh has his faint, fond laughter pressed against your temple.

Before Oliver can even reckon with the moment that had just come to pass, Felix's mother is regaling him with all of Pamela's dirty laundry, before she dives right into pitying Oliver himself, and the sob story of his life and most recent 'tragedy' she's heard.

She looks at him just the same way Felix had. He think of the moment he'd decided to commit to this Dickensian kayfabe, that day in the pub when Felix's eyes were fixed on him, all pity and desire and a desperate need to fix, to save, to be a light in Oliver's life. The way this woman speaks, the way she looks at him in this moment, makes Felix Catton make total and complete sense. Something inside Oliver relaxes; she would not be hard won.

As they circle back around to the tragedy of poor Pamela, however, something about what Farleigh says, pointing out that the tragedy of her was the only interesting thing about her, sticks in the back of Oliver's mind.

Being beautiful and tragic would only ever get him so far, would only ever make him a novelty. It takes another glance back at you for him to realise a little more of why you behaved the way you did; tragic and beautiful and useful. That's the thought that turns over in his mind, even as Felix's mother starts her line of questioning about the sordid details of his upbringing, and Venetia joins them only to stare at him like a bug, and Farleigh only seems to be holding himself back from outright contempt at your behest. You are once again asleep. At least Felix makes a token effort to reprimand his mother, not that it appears to make much of a difference.

Oliver offers what little he can get away with, and feels only relief when Felix insists they start getting ready for dinner. Oliver practically bolts, he doesn't even wait for Felix like he probably should have, just desperately hoping he's got the right door to his own room. Clearly he has, swearing when he's finally in his little piece of sanctuary, but after a beat he realises that even that has been breached.

His suitcase is no longer at the foot of his bed.

In another moment, the door that connects his room to the bathroom squeaks open and there's two more people in his room without bothering to even knock. At least Felix is apologising for his mother. Part of Oliver thinks he should have expected the Cattons to be exactly as out of touch as this house implied, that he should have braced himself better, that it's not Felix's fault, but the apology is still nice.

Also he's rather distracted by the fact that all of his clothes have been organised neatly in the old, wooden cupboard.

"Did someone unpack my suitcase?" Oliver hears himself ask distractedly. Looking back when Felix makes a noise of guilt, he sees Felix sitting on the edge of his bed with an apologetic smile, and you next to him, laying back on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Uh, shit, yes, I should have told you," Felix admits, "they do that kind of thing here." Rich, whimsical weirdos, the lot of them, "the maids all report back to mum, by the way," Felix informs him, while you're just quietly swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. Felix's tone turns teasing, however, "so I hope you didn't pack anything scandalous." Oliver leans on the wooden foot of the bed, into Felix's space with an amused smile at the thought - pushing his luck, pushing into Felix's space to play off of the idea of scandal, so close to Felix and his mischievous smile. Felix leans back, the tease, giving Oliver space to quietly say -

"Just my old boxers."

You snicker. Felix grins.

"No, they're used to that, don't worry," but then Felix is up again, almost too close, looking at Oliver like he knows this is all some kind of joke, like he know - like he wants Oliver to keep looking at him, at his teasing smile, at his lips like that, "Duncan will be thrilled." Like this is all a game. Oliver snorts a laugh.

But the moment doesn't last, and Felix is moving again, getting up, telling Oliver a new rule - ahead of time this time. Dinner at Saltburn is an event you dress for, with the kind of dress code that requires a dinner jacket and cuff links and - Oliver would be properly embarrassed if it didn't mean he got to wear Felix's spare jacket. Felix seems almost embarrassed by it all, his casual nature clearly butting heads with the formality of his heritage. In this moment he almost seems childish, it's rather sweet. Judging by your smile, you're endeared by his behaviour without even having to see it; you hadn't even thought to sit up; your eyes have fallen closed, as if basking in this moment.

Oliver watches you, the way you radiate contentment. You were not born into Saltburn, but you'd made it your home. You'd won the love of Felix Catton, and a place in his life, that no-one else had managed to achieve. Hope was a beautiful thing, and you were both in this moment.

"I'm really happy you're here, Ol," Felix finally murmured, and finally Oliver believes him, "I'm sorry everything's so... old fashioned."

"No," Oliver's voice is soft, "it's wonderful."

The pleased smile Felix wears as he heads through to his own room makes everything about this strange, ritualistic, obsessive, critical world worth it. Over his shoulder, he asks if you'll be coming through too, and you tell him you'll catch up in a second. Felix closes the door over quietly, and after a moment, Oliver joins you, laying back on the bed.

"I like your room," Oliver breaks the silence after a moment. After a moment, a hum that's more like a contented laugh escapes you. You mumble a thanks; it's been a few hours since he'd seen you initially, your chatter had died down considerably, it seemed like you'd sobered up a good deal in the afternoon that had just passed.

There's a million things Oliver wants to say in this moment, things he wants to do, questions he has about you, about Felix, about Saltburn.

"It's not-" he finally starts, voice so soft as he finally turns to you, "it wasn't your fault, by the way."

When you turn to meet his gaze, there's surprise and confusion in your eyes, clearly not sure what he was referring to. Its been a long time now since he'd deliberately reached out for you, since you'd slept together, since Felix had first started giving him resentful looks. Things are better now. Much better.

"What?"

All it takes is a deliberate, gentle touch, his hand taking yours, apology in his eyes. Its enough to acknowledge that he'd spent time pulled away from you, that you weren't crazy to think that, and that you weren't at fault.

Oliver's always liked watching you process things, at least when you allow the world to see it happen on your face, not making an effort to hide it. You look down at his hand on yours, grip loose like more of a reassurance; raising your joined hands like you can't quite believe the sight, he takes the opportunity to link your fingers. It wasn't your fault.

Looking deliberately back at the ceiling, he gives you the time and space to process this development without feeling so watched.

"Oh," you mumble quietly, finally, "it's..." you give his hand a squeeze, "thanks?" Oliver smiles, and knows you see it, can see in his peripheries the way you're watching him now, but when he goes to withdraw his hand, you hold him tighter for just a beat, as if on instinct, before you let him go.

"Can I be bold for a moment?" He breaks the moment, breaks the tension, voice light and inquisitive.

"I like your boldness, Ollie, you know that," you respond automatically, matching his energy easily. Sitting up, Oliver turns to fix you with a scrutinising look for a long moment, and you wait, you watch him with eyebrows raised and an amused smile painted across your lips.

"You're sleeping with Farleigh," it's not a question. Your smile grows wider and far more smug.

"Ollie - Oliver - look at me," you prop yourself up on one elbow, gesturing down at your body, "look at where we are," you gesture around at the bedroom itself, "how many Summers do you think unrelated teenagers in close proximity, growing steadily more attractive with each passing year, can get through without ending up deciding to fuck to pass the time?"

Oliver, charmed by your blunt confidence, can't help but laugh, while also being able to connect enough dots to the implication that he should expect you to be just as close to Felix's sister too. You join him in his laughter, finally sitting yourself up. Oliver knocks his knee with yours, deliberate, and watches with a kind of fondness as you immediately focus on the moment of brief contact. You'd missed him, just as he'd anticipated.

But the laughter dies down, and you finally stand, sighing that you should probably get yourself ready for dinner too. Before stepping away, you lean back down with a wide, goofy smile that reminds Oliver a bit of Felix, and gently grasp his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. Oliver, a little startled by the gesture but welcoming it nonetheless, feels want burn through his veins momentarily as he watches you head to the door.

"Oh, Ollie, there's some stuff under the sink for you," you yawned and stretched and Oliver tried desperately not to stare at the way your shirt rode up, "shampoo, toothpaste, contacts; junk like that, you know, just in case." Wait, what was that last one?

"Contacts?"

"Yeah," like it was perfectly fucking reasonable, your hand on the door, "in case you didn't bring any or you ran out - there's actually a spare pair of glasses as well, if you'd prefer. Same frames as yours, I wasn't sure-"

"You know my prescription?"

"Yeah?"

"How...?"

You go quiet. You shrug. Its not a real answer.

Right; a magician never reveals their secrets. Its not particularly reassuring for a man lying about a large portion of his life.

For now Oliver just tries to remind himself of the way you look at him, the way you want him, the way he loves you, for who you are, for all you can do.

"Thank you," he says quietly, gives you a smile and hopes you believe it, "you're good to me." He's not sure what about that surprises you, but he catalogues this in the back of his mind. There's something beautiful and, he suspects, rare, about catching you off guard. But your next words are enough to return the favour, have his heartbeat in his ears, hopeful and quick as a humming bird right before you leave.

"Of course I am, Ollie, I love you."

And he's not sure why, but he believes you.

[allfryam]

weight gain drive story

Shane had always coasted through life on his good looks. He was a popular football player in high school, and he somehow avoided the freshman 15 in college. His life was perfect until his girlfriend of 3 years, Ashley, broke up with him out of nowhere. It broke Shane. He didn’t come out of his room for a week, and he spent most of his days crying in bed.

but Shane quickly recovered and hopped back into his normal life. He wasn’t one to just leave a relationship though. He had to make Ashley jealous. He started going to the gym every single day. He always thought he was a little skinny and wished he was bigger. He was talking about it on the phone with one of his buddies when a strange man overheard him. “You tryna get big?” The strange man said. “Uhhh… yeah?” Shane replied. “Take this. You’ll be bigger in no time.” He tossed a small bottle to Shane and walked away. Shane examined the bottle. “GET BIGGER EVERY DAY!” Shane was skeptical, but he reluctantly drank the liquid and tossed the bottle.

Shane took note of his starting weight. 155 pounds. He looked at himself in the mirror. “Hopefully this junk works.” He said to himself. the next morning, Shane rushed to the bathroom to weigh himself. 156 pounds. That shit only made him gain a pound. What a waste. He went about his week like normal until 4 days later. He checked his weight to see 160 pounds. Huh. A pound a day? That was a lot faster that he normally gained weight. He looked at himself in the mirror to see his midsection growing ever so slightly. There was just a thin layer of softness that was beginning to cover his abs. Shane didn’t notice however. He saw his arms getting slightly wider and he was ecstatic. He was finally starting to gain some real muscle.

a week had passed, and Shane was still gaining exactly one pound a day. He was up 13 pounds from his starting weight, and his friends started to notice. “Yo. Lay off the ice cream, tubby” his friend mark commented. Shane looked down to see that his gym shirt didn’t quite cover his belly all the way. There was a small but noticeable layer of pudge peeking out of his shirt. His face got red and he tugged his shirt down. “Maybe I should stick to the weight im at now.” He thought to himself. But the weight kept coming. Exactly one pound a day. 169. 170. 171. 172. It kept climbing. Shane was starting to get worried. How long would this spell last? Would he continue to gain weight forever? Shane was frightened, but looking in the mirror, he had never looked stronger.

after the first month, Shane was up 30 pounds. He hit 185 in no time. Sweatpants were all that fit over his round butt, and he wore hoodies to try and conceal his growing belly. That didn’t really help though. Mark was constantly making fun of his friend’s weight gain and poking Shane’s belly. Shane would even try to stop eating for a day, but the weight still climbed. Shane was ready to give up. What’s the point of eating healthy if you’re going to gain weight anyway? Shane decided to treat himself by eating whatever he wanted from now on.

after two months, Shane was ahead of schedule. He was supposed to be up 60 pounds, but when he stepped on the scale, he was up 70! He was still gaining a pound a day, but all of the pizza and ice cream he was eating was also making him even fatter. Shane almost didn’t recognize himself anymore. He had a double chin, his pecs began to melt and get saggy, his toned arms grew larger and softer. But his stomach was the worst of all. It was like having a beach ball under your shirt at all times. Not even his baggiest hoodies could contain the mass of his gut.

after 100 days, Shane was up 139 pounds. He almost hit 300! He was at 294. The spell seemed like it finally wore off, but what had Shane done to himself. His belly was huge! It hung over his tight pants and bursted through the buttons on his shirts. Shane’s entire body jiggled with each step, and he was constantly out of breath. But his arms were huge. He looked like he could lift a truck with his pinky. Shane decided the belly was a sacrifice he was willing to make to keep these bear arms.

thank you to everyone who participated in the weight gain drive! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope you have fun reading it. I may do more like this in the future so stay tuned. I hope everyone has a merry Christmas!

[doberbutts]

hey so feel free to delete this if its inappropriate/not the right time to share it

i’m a trans woman and (obviously) i can’t get pregnant, but i did get sexually assaulted by some guys trying to show was one of them. and also having an m marker has caused issues with trying to access resources and shit.

idk this isnt the same thing and all but my point is that im standing with u as some random trans woman with vaguely parallel experiences and im sorry to hear its somehow even worse & more likely for some of yall.

I wanr to preface this with a disclaimer, to get things out of the way first.

I am not trying to say that trans women do not experience devastating sexual assaults. They do. Quite often. Though to me, even once is too often. Rape and sexual assault are terrible, awful things. It's horrible that anyone has been made to go through this.

Nor am I trying to say that your M marker doesn't get in the way of things. When it comes to the domestic violence you experience, or the homelessness rates, or a determination of what prison you go to (esp since y'all are more likely to be wrongfully accused and arrested), or the various aspects of your own reproducive healthcare, your agab and gender marker is absolutely used as a weapon against you.

The question was asked for a unique example. Unfortunately, the conversation around reproductive rights is much different for me than it is for you. But it's also much different for me than for cis women and cis men as well. Those without a functional uterus cannot get pregnant. Those who cannot get pregnant are not forcibly married off to be raped until pregnant as a means of detransition and correction. This misogyny we share with cis women.

However an added aspect of that is that if this happens after we've changed our legal documents, an additional layer of transphobia occurs when insurances and doctors see our M or X markers and deny us care out of hand. Now we are stuck with a pregnancy we don't want and constant reminder of what happened to us, or a huge medical bill with devastating financial consequences.

And that's just for those who got out safety- for those who rely on shelters, again the choice becomes detransition for safety at a woman's shelter, or struggle in silence as a man. That, we share with you, though for different reasons.

A unique interection of transphobia and misogyny specifically experienced by trans men was asked for. That is what I provided. Much like how in Crenshaw's essays one could not provide a complete understanding of "because woman" or "because black" because neither would show the full picture of "because black woman", it is not possible to describe this fully as "because trans " or "because man" because the complete "because trans man" must be provided.

I am of the opinion that there is very little "unique" about oppression- mostly that the various points of intersection change its face. In other words, I think trans men share a lot with trans women, and I don't think that's a bad thing. I also think that doesn't disclude something from earning its own name or having its own place to be talked about.

I have hesitated to post those statistics because they can so easily be twisted to say "trans women don't experience these things" or "trans men have it worse". But, a look at the graphs say the first isn't true, it just happens at a statistically less rate. The second, well, I personally don't think it's useful to quantify who has it worse. I once was in that mindset, apologizing to my mentor (an older trans woman) for complaining about my problems because obviously she had it so much worse.

She told me she doesn't like to think about it like that. For her, she would rather be raped than killed. For me, I would rather be killed than raped. Who has it "worse" depends entirely on perspective. Murder and rape are both terrible crimes to be a victim of. Rather than weighing this violence in a scale, more effort should be put into stopping it from happening in the first place. I think she was very wise. I'm lucky to have known her.

I'm sorry that happened to you. I would like to reach across the table and take your hand, to walk forward into the future together. I think we are stronger when united in this world that hates us. You are my sister. We may fight like siblings, but you're still family.

[fllavmur]

i ate too much at lunch, had seconds and everything. and to make things worse, when i was leaving the house i felt like it and i dont know why i have no idea why this happened. i ate 3 small lemon cakes one after the other as if there was no tomorrow and i broke my most precious goal of not eating chocolate. i hadnt eaten it for three months. i completely lost it and tried to get it all out in an act of desperation. i had tried before but it never worked. i tried and tried until when my father left to start the car I went to the kitchen to drink a glass of salt to see if i could get it out (i had never done that before either). right after i tried again and managed to get some of it out but it was almost nothing. since i had to leave, i left the house shaking and my father saw me and asked if i was okay and i said i was just nauseous so he sent me back home. i almost ran to try again in the hope that this time i could get something out. it was from there that things got worse.

my parents kept asking me why i was doing this and everything, but i didnt answer anything. they stayed like this for almost an hour. until my father went to get the scales and put them on the floor and asked me to weigh myself, i panicked. i was already crying, but then it got worse. he kept asking me if i thought i was fat.

after a long time, they left me and i stayed in bed for the rest of the day. until recently, my mother showed up here wanting to talk. very serious and saying things that i already know. and she brought me a peeled apple. i know that soon the apple will be in the toilet. imagine eating more. for almost a month, i never went over 700 calories a day. if it were more than 400, i would cry, and rightly so. i shouldn't even go over 200. i prominently lost weight to 49 kg, but with this, im going to go back up again without a doubt. i want to die now. how can i continue living if i wake up every day with this body?

[mezmer]

hiiii can i ask you about ur experience w microdosing shrooms? how long have you been microdosing/what do you microdose for? what’s the “pattern” of use (like do u do it daily or every other day or irregularly etc)? ive microdosed a few times before but i can’t decide if i want to try doing it regularly to see if it helps my depression. im curious to know what it’s like for you both acutely and over time? and if youd recommend it for depression?

Hi sweetheart. My experience has been swell! The initial reason I got it was to soothe my insecurities. I figured psilocybin would help me love my body and feel more comfortable. Also, to use it with my partner so we can connect on a deeper level.

I've had them for about two weeks. My dosing has been irregular because my food scale does not weigh mg, only grams. Hard to tell how much I'm taking, so I'm taking very little. My plan is to blend them into a powder and get a new scale and dose that way, so I have a consistent dose. Still, I've been taking it here and there to reap the effects.

I recommend it for depression. I would do what I just said instead of taking a disproportionate amount if you are serious about it! If you're sensitive, it can make your tummy feel funny, which you may know. Ginger and other plants can help. Though it has helped my depression, and anxiety chiefly, I noticed it hasn't made me more productive, lol. I don't feel a lot of motivation to complete extra chores and make the house look great...which is something I wanted out of it. I can get myself in a better mood which helps.

Mostly, I am excited for summer time. That will be nice, being outside....the sun will really make my microdosing shine!

I have been motivated to eat fresh salads every day lol. That's a change I've noticed...

I bought a lot for very cheap so. You can message me about it if you would like. This is a lot, just ask any questions in notes or dm

[luvsavos]

Oh damn…yeah on the “Aiden has killed a guy” thing we definitely disagree 😅 I gotta say, the concept of turning INTO an Elder Dragon is seriously something else…and it’s so neat that you also LOTG…I was like “hey how come at the end Aiden’s a solemn and then you see him at the beginning of World and he’s like “heyyyyy”. And she’s like “probably trying to be cool”. Still love how he sees you sitting alone and is like “absolutely not :)” ah, hold on, lemme continue this in another ask 😅

worry not this is absolutely wonderful i love talking in depth/length about characters like this<3

honestly my main backing for saying he's had to kill someone is two things: a) i like to make my faves suffer and having to kill another person would weigh VERY heavily on aiden, b) guild knights already do that as is, so while it's definitely FAR more likely that aiden was tasked with Just going around to help protect people, it Is a possibility and i use that to my advantage to make him suffer<3 i'd say he's fine but [gently pats the top of his head] this bad boy can fit so much repressed trauma in it LMAO

aiden was, i believe, the second instance of someone getting poofed into an elder dragon by vodrem; everyone else was just normal monsters (shang was an anjanath, and ended up keeping the alt form because he looked like the anja that raised him, the admiral was a tigrex, the huntsman was an acidic glavenus, the tracker was an odogaron, the seeker was the other elder dragon, an eo garudia; i don't THINK there were others but this was over a year ago and my memory is fuzzy</3 achilles also ended up getting poofed into an elder dragon at some point after the guild arc part 2, a xeno and then safi'jiiva, after aiden got spooked back into the fatalis form and let him drain some of his energy to speed up the molting process. he also ended up keeping the safi form, albeit by choice, so now he's just kinda this fucked up Black Dragon Lite™️ safi with primarily black colouration and dark red mottling and purple energy, i actually have a drawing i did of it somewhere as a ref for my friend, he is Very Pretty😌) i chose fatalis primarily because of how heavily i associate aiden with fatty (thanks iceborne) but also since i thought itd be interesting to explore a kind and outgoing and bubbly character like him grappling with the innate violence and rage of a fatalis... yet again making him suffer LMAO. to give him credit, he's done a good job at it, mostly because he typically just ends up being an oversized skittish cat who refuses to actually use any of the fatalis capabilities (save for flying, which he does admittedly enjoy). pancaketalis<3 i'll draw him fatalis'ed eventually, once i figure out how to texture the burn scars since they wouldn't be all that visible bc of the black scales

i definitely see aiden as the kind of person who doesn't, like, really Want to Let others see any solemness or whatnot from him most of the time; he's energetic, excitable, social and outgoing, and wants to maintain that---he doesn't want people to worry over him, i think. after all, he's usually the one that's trying to cheer everyone else up and support them, which may sort of be a way to try to deal with his own issues, in a way? me too buddy me too

i also adore how he's introduced in world, i think it's part of what got me to like him so much tbh. him immediately gravitating towards the one person sitting alone that didn't appear to have anyone else but their palico around with them, because everyone should feel included and welcomed, and while everyone else is already eating and talking away the player character is just sorta There, so of course, he strikes up a conversation, because that's what he does<3 nobody gets left out or left behind

(sidenote: i love that the fatalis pre-cutscene mirrors the intro cutscene. chefs fucking kiss im so normal about that)

[smileymoth]

Heavy dysmorphia/weight talk/disordered eating shit im going thru ittttt sooo badddd right nowwww

Ive been struggling so bad this past week im convinced ive gained weight but bc i dont have a scale i cant check and its driving me insane ive been feeling nauseated for days now because of how sick my body makes me feel i can feel every ounce of fat on it and it makes me feel ill. Ive been trying to restrict but i always fail so fucking badly and i always end up eating over what i should be eating (according to my brain) so i always eat around 2k-2.5k and its freaking me the fuck out because i just have no self control regarding food i just need to stop fucking buying food!! Its that easy!!! I need to plan this shit better!!! I cant fucking gain any weight back i dont want to be considered obese again please i cant i just got out of that bmi range pleaaaseee i need to get surgery i need to be under xx kilos for surgery and im probably over that again im so fuckifn. Ugh. I cant. I cant evrn say how much i weigh its embarrassing. Once a fat girl always a fat girl i guess. I fucking hate myself man my body and my weight and everything abt me makes me nauseous i want to throw up so bad ive been feeling like i NEED to throw up to feel better but im like NO you are NOT going there you just are NOT . I hate the feeling of food in my stomach i hate food i hate tht i have like no self control around food esp like sweets and shit like fukcing shoot me. I need money to be taken from me so i would stop fuckibg eating. Csnt even keep a fucking slight deficit im goign to gain all of this weight back and ill want to kms even more. I just dont get it why ive been struggling w restricting so much lately it was completely fine in summer and now i guess im just stress eating to feel better but it always backfires lmao. Im lowkey so pathetic. Its always "ill try again tomorrow" and then i fail again. I feel so fat and disgusting i wsnt go throw up and just take a knife and cut my stomach open and carve everything out i think that would fix me. I hatr how hard it is to not eat when youre around people. Again ijust havr no self control. I fuckign hate it. How do other people do it. Am i fucking faking it. I just dont care enough do i . I just. It shoudlnt be so fucking hsrd to eat less thsn what i wsnt to eat. But its so hard. Idont understand ehy i cant do it. Makes me want to cry. Its all my own fucking fault im this fat to begin with i just need to get better at control

[strawberriesancreamdrpepper]

hi guys, big update

okay, I haven't posted in awhile, but I think I'm starting to get an idea of what i'm going to be able to do consistently.

here's what's been happening.

the biggest update I have is... I bought a scale!! this has been a long time coming, I don't know how many people understand how long I have been waiting to do this. I haven't had my own scale since maybe beginning of 2022, this is big. I've been waiting or considering buying one since maybe november of 2023, a long time. I was suspicious of where I could buy one without my parents finding out, since I am 14, but I managed to find a way. since i've been considering buying one, i've known I would not be able to buy one online, it would have to be in person. the question is... where? because cvs or target or anywhere that sells them is not a place i'm able to access without bringing my parents, but recently (literally 2 days ago) I was looking up where I could buy one, and it said there was some in stock at a job lot, literally down the road from my house, and across from the gym I go to. so, I cooked up the perfect plan. say i'm going to walk to the gym, while I'm there say i'm going to pick up some chocolate from job lot to use to bake, buy a scale plus chocolate to cover my tracks, and slip the scale into my backpack. so I mean yeah that's basically what I did. I did have some trouble getting it into my backpack, so I had to take it out of the box and stuff it in there, and it made my backpack a weird shape, but I managed to get it into my room, hopefully un-suspiciously and now... I have my own scale. I feel so... powerful. like omg. finally. Im so happy. my logic for buying one now, not yesterday, not a week, a month, a year ago, is because i've usually had access to one at least once to twice a week but that's all going to change when I start school, first because I will be getting home at 5pm, and my dad leaves after I do for work so I cant before school, and he usually sits in his room after work after I get home so I cant weigh after school either. and, my mom is having surgery so shes going to be sitting in the room the scales in 24/7 for basically 4 weeks, so, I literally cannot deal with not weighing for 4 weeks are you kidding. (also shes completely fine don't worry! its a really easy procedure for a condition that's not life threatening in the first place. I know it sounds like I'm being selfish in thinking that the surgery is just an inconvenience for me not to be able to weigh myself but, it is simply that because its not really a very big deal. anyway, she will be okay, and the surgery should greatly improve her life so, all is well.) thats the first reason, the second is that I figure in order to truly become a full anorexic I need to be able to obsess over my weight very closely, and again that's not possible unless I have a scale I have access to at all times. so, I have a scale. AHHHH!!! I'm so happy you have no idea, again, i've been patiently waiting for this, for a chance I'm able to buy one safely without my parents finding out, for so long. and i've tested it and it works and I'm literally just on such a high from this its going to make such a difference and so improve my life by so much. okay so obviously a very short explanation, sorry, I didn't have a lot of time.

other than finally buying and having my own scale (seriously, finally, God) I have cooked up a perfect diet I will be able to follow. okay so I wanted to keep it basic, high enough to be sustainable, but low enough its considered unhealthy for my own peace of mind, so here it is:

1000 calorie limit (absolute limit) so usually I will do 700-950 range. i will accept like maybe one day a week where I do 1200 limit but if its over 1200 I will probably use my lax tea or try and purge it.

for exercise, I am on a cross country team that meets 5 days a week, one of those days being an actual meet. I want a step count of 10-15k if I don't meet it by the time I get home I have a treadmill I can use to meet a minimum of 10k, there is no exceptions of this even on weekends, because, obviously, small things make a difference.

for water, I want a minimum of 1 liter of water a day, this is absolutely necessary for digestion and just general appetite suppressing.

I think when I start school I will ban breakfast, maybe have some tea before school if absolutely necessary but it's just unnecessary calories. i've recently been into actually paying attention to macros outside of calories so I want 40g of protein and 15g of fiber on my lowest days. those are slightly exceptions because not everyday can be perfect but that's my goal.

I want abs once a week just because and other than that cross country should cover my bases until november.

sleep is so so important so I want 8 minimum good solid hours a day and no exceptions for that.

so that's the diet plan as for general weight goals, heres what's happening. right now I'm no heavier than 120 I think that's like me bloated. I want to lose about 2 pounds minimum every week, so about 8 pounds a month, however I want to make my goal 10 pounds a month, but 8 is minimum. my ugw is 80 pounds so I have roughly 4 months before I meet my goal weight. so that's why my goal date to be at my goal weight (see I'm so cool for rhyming) is december 31st. I, moony-likes-water, am officially making the goal that I want to be 80 pounds on december 31st. so, it would make sense for me to say, September 1st I will be 120 max, October 1st I will be 110 max, November 1st I will be 100 max, December 1st I will be 90 max, and December 31st I will be 80 max. is this unrealistic? let me know in you guy's formal opinion. Google says the max healthily is 8lbs a month, but im not really doing it super healthy? so maybe 10 is realistic? to ed girls is 10 a month normal. tell me, please.

so generally, once schools starts hopefully i will be so distracted by starting highschool and being stressed out I will forget to eat! also, the good thing is that after my mom has surgery my brother is... also having surgery. my brother is ftm and is getting top surgery! I'm super proud of him for finally making this big step in his transition, please wish him luck, also... my parents will be soooo busy taking care of him, they wont even pay attention to me so I can peacefully lose weight without them even noticing. this is it guys, I'm finally going to do it.

binging is obviously a huge problem, but I know that I have control of myself enough to not. I am in control of my body and of my actions and I have the sense not to if I put my mind to it. so, if I really ever get a bad urge, I am required by the law of my good friend ana to scroll through pro Tumblr for at least 10 minutes so that I can be serenaded by the voices of angels telling me it'll be okay. so it will be fine, I know, I KNOW, I can do it. why?? because I've done it before. i've lost 25 pounds before I can do this. I CAN DO THIS.

ANYWAY, all that being said, I will be updating hopefully very often seeing as how Tumblr is a great community and resource so... if you want to then please follow along with me! we CAN reach our ugw ik that if I can do it you can so WHO'S WITH ME!!!

that's all for now, I'm going to go sleep with my new scale under my pillow and whisper sweet nothings into its ear. goodnight and good luck!!

[ashtraybug]

june 9, 2024

fasted: 16h

intake: 1550

sushi buffet (750)

crab rangoon (200)

oreo chocolate mousse cake (100)

fruit salad (50)

goldfish sour cream & onion (450)

super highly overestimating my intake today because i honestly have no idea how much i ate at the buffet and i’d rather estimate high than estimate low. idk why it’s been so hard for me to stay under 1400 calories recently; it might be because i got so used to eating 2000+ cals every day and now cutting back is hard? idk. i’m starting back up at the gym tomorrow and im excited to actually get some exercise that isn’t just running around a restaurant for 10 hrs a day. i’m also working every single day this week so hoping that that can keep me on track and prevent me from eating out so much.

we walked around a lot today because i wanted to shop, thinking i got around 12k steps today but not sure because i never have my phone on me to actually track my steps. most days it says i got like 600 steps which is not true so maybe getting an apple watch or something will help with that? but i know it’s based on motion and im carrying things around usually so putting it on my ankle would be the best but im worried it would look like an ankle monitor lol.

bought some storage for some of my clothes so im thinking that having a tidier living space will take some stress away and i’ll be able to exist in peace instead of constant chaos.

i think i’m gonna pick journaling back up again. having a space for me to be able to brain dump that’s not a phone screen might be good for me.

still trying to save up for that macbook, but i think im gonna get an apple watch before then. it’ll help with the gym too since none of my shorts have pockets in them.

pray that i actually lose something y’all, im going insane not being able to weigh myself every day. there’s a manual scale at the gym but i’ll be sweaty and full of water and food from eating in the daytime and i’ll have my clothes on which isn’t ideal. some of my clothes are already sitting kind of looser which is crazy since i haven’t been restricting or anything. but it might be the lack of bloating. idk.

i might stop getting my birth control shots because a major side effect is weight gain/plateau. my bf can deal.

[justagirllost]

I dont know why im on here maybe be because i need a safe space to put all of my thoughts is this even "safe" idk but i think ive been doing good with everything even though its so hard and all i think about is food. especially cheesy food i love cheese so much but im just trying to lose this damn weight idk how anyone likes being fat I think all the people who talk about body positive are fucking full of it literally because no one should be happy above 250 and thats just me being generous why are people like that i was on tiktok earlier and came across a fat influencer struggling to walk onto a plane and being upset the stewardess didnt push her...like girl your easily 400lbs thats way to freaking much for an average person to push a random ass Tuesday she needs to lose the weight period people like her make me sick shes complaining that it isnt fair her fat ass had to walk but in a couple videos down she was eating a lot of fat greasy food saying 'i love eating food with the word fat in it' like sweetie you cant get mad someone doesnt want to push you in a wheel chair and yet you still eat absolutely disgusting.... anyway im just blabbing anything to not eat lol i did some jump ropes yesterday and that was nice i plan to do more today yesterday i did 700 jumps so ill do the same amount today and tomorrow and then on Tuesday ill bump it up to 800 i started at like maybe 500 ? jumps idk but im wanting my weight to come off so im not like the lady who had to walk onto to a plane and damn near passed out. im down about 10 pounds already so i know what im doing is working i just want more and more gone every time i look at the scale, i weigh myself on Wednesday so hopefully i can be down like 5 more pounds that would make me so happy but im so scared it will be the same or worse more which i dont know how it would go up im just scared thats all anyway thats it for now this is way longer than i expected it to be.

THIS IS A EDIT IM NOT TRYING TO BE MEAN IM JUST VENTING MY OWN FRUSTRATIONS

[m0llystars]

I’d like to also say something in regards to the “this is my longest video yet” comment I made at the end of this; i honestly don’t inherently wanna take pride in making overly long videos. part 3 was never intended to be ridiculously long, but the nature of TDT keeps showing me that if I want to make this the way I want to, then it has to be much bigger than I originally imagined it being.

I can def understand some ppl being intimidated or turned off by all my vids pretty much being feature length without fail. i wish i COULD say that it’s for the content but genuinely it’s just how my analysis always ends up even when I prioritize the important stuff and try to cut out any redundant bits. that said, after this, I seriously, genuinely can’t see myself making another vid nearly of this length for a long long time. ik i said smth along these lines probably after finishing part 2 but now that I can say TDT is fucking Done on the writing end of things, and after learning to get better at weighing my ideas before tackling them, I really feel like I mean it here.

TDT was always that thing I came up with for the channel that had the old curse of me getting an idea for a vid and drastically underestimating the work it would take to make it happen the way i envisioned it. but I wanted to just entertain this at the time of me starting it. the goal was always just to finish it no matter what, my brain wanted crazy, I’ll give it insane, etc. like, fuck it, if it’s so intent on only giving me these super large scale ideas then I’m gonna chew on the biggest one no matter how long it takes.

part 3 pretty much just feels like the most extreme form of that: I could not have conceived how much ground I’d be covering by going fully into theory land, and I’m sure as hell gonna be paying for it. but even if this ends up being too long for people’s liking, or even too esoteric in some spots, fuck it, I always wanted to just make it for me first and foremost. this theory needs to leave my fucking head, and it’s gonna be everyone else’s problem now, and not just mine ^^

whether it does well or not, I’ll just be happy to say I made something I put everything into, even if it’s insurmountably absurd. idk what the process for editing this will turn out to be like, but im going to tackle it, and i’m sure it’ll be all done sooner or later. certainly gonna be easier from here on anyway since I can bounce between this and the other thing I rlly wanna work on

[journalofsorts2]

im actually terrified of gaining weight. for background, my mom fat shamed me my whole life, boo hoo for me, whatever, im trying my best to get over it, but when i was little i used to binge eat to try to fill the feeling of emptiness, it never worked and i always kept eating. as a result, i weighed about twice as much as my peers and my mom hated me. when i reached 7th grade it kinda all hit me at once. i started distancing myself from food. eating less, and when i did eat it was food that could only be perceived as healthy. any junk food i ate in private or if i did eat it in front of other people, i was usually masking a panic attack. i would eat like an average of a meal and a half each day cause dinner was kinda hard to avoid cause we would sit down as a family to eat it. anyways, this went on till like 9th grade, right before winter break i got a horrible stomach sickness, everything was coming out both ends, i missed finals, it was awful. i lost about 20 pounds from that whole thing, on top of the weight i had been slowly losing from not eating. at this point im at about 100 pounds. not healthy for a 5'4" 15 year old. and since then my dad's been getting on me more about eating, and i have actually been eating more. and it was slow, comfortable progress at first.

but now i'm doing online school, and im home alone all day everyday, and it's the holidays. and this is the perfect mixture to get me to eat more and more. and i feel awful. that empty feeling that caused my binge eating is stronger than ever now. and i haven't been eating healthy. and i'm beating myself up over it. i mean yesterday i had two slices of pie! two! that's not good, i shouldn't have done that. i wonder what my mom would say. something awful probably. "oh you're getting a second slice? oh no, its fine, go right ahead" and then she'd make sure i knew she was looking at my stomach. "oh you're eating cheez-its? you know we have fruit right? okay, it's just a suggestion" and then she'd have that look of disgust that she's barely trying to hide. "you know, you should probably lay off the blueberries, at that rate you're gonna eat the whole box!" and then she'd whisper to my older sister and they'd both share a hushed laugh. and even though i don't talk to her anymore, even though she's basically not allowed to talk to me without my dad in the room, even though my older siblings are all moved out, her voice still lives on in my head. every time i second guess myself, its her voice doing it. every time i stop myself from eating what i want, its her voice berating me. every time i look down and squeeze my stomach, it's her voice telling me how fat i am.

im not even that heavy anymore. i probably weigh less than my peers these days. i weigh less than is healthy still. you can literally see my bones and veins poking out in certain parts! but the fact that the number on the scale is going up instead of down means that my inner mom is still unhappy. it doesn't matter what the number is, but as long as its going up, im not enough. im getting close to where i was before i lost those 20 pounds and im scared to see that number on the scale again. im scared because it means im failing. i was supposed to get under 100 and stay there. that was my goal. but i failed.

and i feel like im not allowed to talk about this with anyone. because these stupid rules only apply to me. i have friends who weigh more than me who are absolutely stunning. and i don't judge their weight at all. i only judge mine. my body is the only ugly one. and i know its not rational, 'if i can see that they're pretty, why can't i see that i'm pretty?' I DON'T KNOW, i don't know. i don't know why these rules only apply to me, and i don't know how to get rid of them. but because i weigh less than the people around me, i feel like i can't talk to them about my weight struggles. i don't want them to think i think that they're fat and ugly like i am. because i really don't. and what if they struggle with weight? how insulting is it to have this skinny person come up to you and say they think they're fat? what must they think about you then? and so i keep it to myself. the most i tell people is my mom fat shamed me as a kid. i don't let them know it still effects me. i don't let them know how much i hate my body.

but the weight that im gaining is terrifying. and i can't tell anyone how scared i am. i don't have anyone to hug me and tell me it'll be alright. every time an issue like this comes up i realize how small my support system actually is. how conditional my support system is. and i hate it. i just want someone to hug me and tell me they love me and that it'll all be alright. i want someone to think i'm beautiful. and not the forced "oh yeah you're so pretty" that adults give me when i tell them i think im ugly. cause that hurts worse than them just telling me they think im ugly. i want someone to genuinely think i'm beautiful. i want someone to genuinely think i'm handsome. idk, moral of the story i hate myself. this has been too long, sorry

[insertlatestfictionalcrushhere]

I’ll see your heart, and raise you two

Pairing: Sevika x reader

Warnings: gambling? Suggestive ending…

Summary: You meet Sev at the last drop and play a game of cards with her. You’re noticeably good and this leads to more and more games between you two. One night, you run into each other randomly in Zaun and play a game that leads to more than a little cash…

A/N: Part 2 as promised! It’s gonna be 3 parts im so sorry pls don’t hate me. Also all of you liking what I’ve written so far MAKES.MY.DAY. I LOVE ALL OF YOU SO MUCH!!! AAGGGHHH.

Also, I don’t know many card games and especially don’t know anything like poker (am baby) so I did my best to vaguely describe gameplay but also leave it up to you to decide what yall would be playing. I used ‘go fish’ in my head

https://sevikas-wife.tumblr.com/post/675486076349153280/ill-see-your-heart-and-raise-you-two

Part 1 ^^^

Enjoy :3

--------——-----------------------——-----------

Precise. That’s how you would describe her shuffling. The air was growing thicker by the second, both of you expecting the other to be an actual decent opponent and yet, all you could do at that moment was watch her hands. The cards had been well worn and yet she shuffled and flipped them as if they were fresh out of the box. And oh…how you wished to be those cards….

“Hello?”

You snapped back to reality and looked up to see Sevika staring at you with a raised eyebrow. How long had you been staring? How long did she notice? Did she notice?? Oh gods what if…No. You shook your head lightly and smiled back at her, an attempt to play off your small mishaps.

“apologies, it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone handle..cards..so well” you replied, earning a small chuckle. Your heart lept at the sound. G o o d n e s s you needed to get some control if you wanted to stand a change against her.

“If that’s all it takes to impress you, I’d have you a mess within a few minutes”

It took every ounce of strength not to scream right then and there. Clearly, Sevika was turning out to be a challenge in more ways than one. You pressed your nails into your palm, desperately trying to maintain a calm composure. You rolled your eyes in reply, a safe answer that couldn’t spark more of her natural flirtatious commentary.

She dealt the cards accordingly, grabbed her hand, and laid back. You followed suit, arranging your cards how you saw fit whilst carefully eyeing her. She waved her hand at you, her cigarette dangling in the corner of her mouth. Your move. You took a few seconds to imagine the play a few steps into the future, weighing all options before finally making a decision. Your first goal: figure out how she plays.

Placing your card on the table, you briefly looked up at her to see her reaction. Nothing had changed. This might be harder than you thought, but that didn’t deter you. She calmy reached into her fanned cards, and made her move. Nothing that surprised you, but her speed in figuring out what to play was notably fast.

This went on for a while, neither of you giving away any emotions that could tip the other off. And while that may have been annoying to most, to you, it heightened interest in the game significantly. Sev played like the champ that everyone said she was, immediately crushing your theory that people let her win just because of her superior position in Zaun. You were intensely focused, nothing but her and her plays in your mind. The pulsing of the music, the buzz from the liquor, the smoke mingling with the dim light, none of it could pull you away from the game. And then it happened.

You played a card in the same repeated motion and yet, she flinched. The missing scale in her armor shown brightly like a lighthouse, and you didn’t hesitate to fire an arrow directly at it. You leaned back ever so slighty, and watched her pause briefly before playing. It’s a ruse. She doesn’t know what to play now. Unleash hell.

You almost couldn’t contain your excitement as you realized you had finally gained the upper hand. Your hands became less shaky as you dealt your next blow, your eyes watching her reaction even closer. You watched as her eyes darted back and forth between her hand and the pile, and you could’ve sworn a bead of sweat slowly fell across her face.

Her next play was a last ditch effort at best. You almost could’ve laughed but it was too soon. You gave her credit for having never been in such a position before. Holding back your full ego, you played your final move with a light plop of a card onto the pile and leaned all the way back into your chair. The game had been so intense, you hadn’t noticed how tense your muscles had been. She stared at the pile, your winning move on top, her mouth slightly agape. She looked up and met your smug expression and shook her head.

“Damn. I haven’t played anyone like that since my old man. Well done.” She said, lighting her cigarette that had gone out long ago. She offered one to you, and you accepted graciously, eagerly awaiting another form of numbification. The cigarette had barely touched your lips before she had her lighter there, ready to light. You knelt forward and puffed, staring at the flame and not her hands, lest you get distracted again.

“Thanks. It’s almost a gift” You replied, sinking back into your chair and letting the noise of the club fill the small silence. She chuckled while gathering the cards into a neat deck once more.

“Round 2?” she asked, her hands making quick work of the cards. You threw back the last bit of liquor in your cup, and decided to let your ego out juuuust a little bit. You knew that if thee Sevika took the time to light your cigarette for you, you had her interest and attention.

“And what? Potentially squander this moment? Nah” You dashed your cigarette out in the tray and stood up, grabbing your glass. “Maybe if you’re here tomorrow night, I can beat you again” you teased, and seized the moment to walk away.

You felt your cheeks burn and your knees grow weaker as you attempted to play it cool. How amazing it would have been to know if she was watching you walk away but looking back would’ve proved fatal to you regardless of if she was or not. Little did you know, she was absolutely watching you walk away and and loving every second of it.

[foodiemeja]

Pairing: F!reader x Bucky Barnes

Warnings: Arguing, intrusive thoughts, angst, fat shaming, stress, anxiety attack mention, crying(kinda), cussing, fluff at the end I promise :)

Summary: You a Bucky always fool around a little to much when y'all have petty arguments, but you are just extra sensitive today.

[A/N]- GUYS I PROMISE I AM WORKING ON PART 2 THESE ARE JUST DRAFTS IM POSTING!! But I'm working my best on it I promise!

You walk into the kitchen, biker shorts and a slipknot shirt on, trying to fully wake up. You had cute little carrot fuzzy socks on over top of your white plain ones. You had pulled out a bowl and the cereal, pouring it into your bowl. You brought out the milk then later poured that into the bowl as well. You got your spoon out of the drawer and then heard footsteps behind you and slight groans turning into grunts of disapproval. "Why are you eating my cereal?" Bucky asked. You knew he was gonna start a argument, or even something drastic to get at you.

"I just wanna have a peaceful day, just leave me alone please" You raised your voice slightly, still groggy from waking up. Bucky took your bowl with a snatch while making eye contact with you. You felt like a nerd trying to grab a book from a jock. You were much shorter than him. He did this on purpose to make you feel small an useless. "Give my bowl of cereal back you stupid bitch!" You screamed as you saw Sam come in the kitchen. "Sam please get me my bowl of cereal, please" you begged. Sam looked at you and then went and sat on the couch. "He doesn't help fags like you" he said with a huge smirk on his face. You felt like crying. "Fuck you! You bitch ass ape!"

"You are so pleasant!" He said laughing. "It's not my fault I'm trying to help you from getting even more fatter than you already are y/n". You stoped trying to get the bowl. Your appetite was gone once he took the bowl anyways. But that hurt. You put away the cereal and milk. You walked away and back to your room. Usually you stayed and argued. But you were sensitive today. You felt like crying at the slightest things. It wasn't your period on the way, since you had it a week ago. Going into your bathroom and weighing yourself. "Maybe..maybe Bucky's right". 135 pounds. You read that as 351. Trying to keep yourself from tearing up you get off the scale and go to your bed.

It was around lunch time and Steve had gotten lunch for everyone. Everyone came to the kitchen to eat, except you. You were watching TV in your room sulking because of how heavy you thought you were. You had been overworking yourself to do more than you can physically and mentally handle in the gym. So it bothered you alot when some one said something rude about your size or weight. You saw yourself as humongous, and other people saw you as cute and petite. Bucky would never blatantly say this but, he saw you as the most gorgeous woman he has ever layed eyes on. Such a cute curvy body, pretty plump lips, beautiful hair color, and those eyes, oh those eyes got him every time. He doesn't even know why he treats you so badly, when he's so madly in love with you. You are the star of the team. Always happy and so encouraging to do better.

Which is why him not seeing you sitting across from him had him worried. After around 10 minutes Natasha asked where you had been. Sam said you had been in your room since this morning and no one had seen you since. This made Bucky worry even more. What if something happened to you after you left the kitchen. What if you had a panick attack like you did once Infront of him. What if what he said fucked your mental state up. All of Bucky's thoughts stopped when Wanda got up and put your food in the fridge and labeled your name on top. "She'll come get some when she's ready" Wanda said with a nice inviting smile. That made Bucky feel a bit at ease with all his thoughts.

Now it was dinner time. Tony had gotten Chinese takeout since no one felt like cooking. Once the food was here a maid had took it up to the dinning room where everyone sat waiting on the bags of food. Bucky hoped you'd be sitting in your seat across from him before he had gotten there. But he was mistakingly wrong. You weren't here for another meal. Was it because of what he said. He had gotten up and grabbed his and your dinner. "I'm gonna go take it up to her. Maybe she's just not feeling well" the rest of the team agreed while Sam had a shit eating grin on his face.

He had knock on your door to find it kind of cracked. He walked and place the food on the table you had. He saw you snuggling into some stuffy's while you slept. Bucky was gonna wake you up untill he saw your journal wide open.

May 15th

He commented on my weight again. I wish all this fat could be cut off. I wish he liked the way I looked. Maybe I'm trying to hard to be liked by him, he's always like blondes, maybe I should go blonde. Bucky is always so hateful to me. Does he want me off the team? Or does he just want me to die?. I wish I could be loved by him.

This broke his heart. He didn't know how to feel. Did he really make you want to change your body for him. He loved your hips, your beautiful torso, and your cute little arms, and little hands. He loved everything about you. He couldn't believe that he made you feel so disgusted about your self. He began to tear up, untill he felt you move a bit. Bucky nudged your shoulder and placed a soft kiss to your cheek. "You are so beautiful sweetheart. Please don't change" he said, his voice low and soft. You woke up startled and a bit scared. You sat up and caught your breath. "Bucky, w-what are you doing?" You asked half asleep still. "Why were you skipping out on meals?" He barked right back. "Because... I wanna lose weight ...I'm too big" this made his lose a bit of breath and sanity. "To big? Sugar you are so perfect it makes me fucking jealous! There's no way your too damn big!". He picked you up and placed you into his lap like your were as light as air. "I know I can go over and yonder but, I love you so much, and not just for your body, I mean for you, sweetness".

You didn't even try and argue you just snuggled up into his neck and smiled. "So you gonna eat your food for me, or and I gonna have to shove it down your throat?" Bucky asked giving you a grin before you answered. "Well that depends on what your shoving down my throat" you smirked and he chuckled." You are dirty, I love you". "I guess I love you too Bucky" you said rolling your eyes while stating a kiss on his lips.

"But I'm serious y/n, don't change, never!" Bucky said looking into your eyes and waiting for your response. "I don't plan on changing anymore..." You looked back up into his eyes and gave a faint smile. He grabbed you by your cheek and kissed you so passionately it made you want to get as close to him as possible. Bucky pulled away and had a genuine smile on his face. "Could you forgive me?" His hand sliding back to your sides. "I already have, just please no more shitty moments please." Bucky placed a quick peck on your lips. "No more of those. But how about in exchange for those moments. You can be mine y/n? What do you say?" You had a big smile on your face and started batting your eyes in a funny sarcastic way.

"Jeez can I get a date first Barnes" you both started laughing before going back into a kiss and laying down and eating y'all's Chinese food.