Are you with me?
꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎
Pairing: Chan X gn reader
Summary: After struggling with being underweight, you binge out of desperation to gain weight and that's when your boyfriend finds you.
Genre: Comfort/hurt
Word Count: 1.6K
Trigger warning: Insecurities, implied underweight reader, mentions of weight, weight loss, binging, calorie counting, and a mention of nausea.
A/N: I believe that this is the final request I had. I'm so sorry for making you wait forever, life has been hard and this topic is a bit too real and relatable. Please know that your weight doesn't define you. Whether you are thirty pounds, three hundred, or three-thousand, you still deserve love and respect. You are allowed to love yourself no matter what you look like.
Society can be really fucking shitty and harsh. Don't let it tear you down. This is your life and maybe we do only get one. Eat the slice of cake on your birthday. Indulge in your favorite coffee. Weight can fluctuate and be lost or gained, but good memories last a life time. Don't let yourself miss out on experiencing them because you think your weight and the way you look is holding you back. It's easier said than done, but it's entirely possible <3
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The brain is a chamber and each thought is a bullet. A complex system full of neural pathways that define who you are. The brain controls your entire being. Your personality, your motor skills, the cognitive ability to retain information, and pull it out later.
Beneath the skin, we’re all just bones. Chipped and withered skeletons that will one day disintegrate into nothingness. They say life is a blessing. We should cherish it to the best of our ability. We only get one life, supposedly. If that’s true, then why is it so hard?
Bodies. Bodies. Bodies. Bodies. Thick and thin. Taut skin stretched over hollowed cheekbones. Round cheeks full of facial fat. Sharpened and softened jawlines. No matter what yours looks like, you only get one.
A random genetic lottery thanks to your parents. You might hate yourself or you might love yourself. No matter which one wins, there always seems to be hiccups. Those times of turmoil where you just can’t seem to go on another day because you are trapped inside your body. The machine that causes you to breathe, it feels like a burden to some.
You cannot control how the outside world perceives you. You cannot make everyone like yourself. Chasing idolization and devotion is a great bomb of self-destruction. Feelings can be fatal and if you’re not careful, they will be. Drowning in insecurities and letting them weigh you down while the days pass you by isn’t a good way to live.
Yet…you just couldn’t help it. The way you looked was just overwhelming. You were a mess. Physically, nobody could see it. Mentally, you were overwhelmed and falling apart. Unraveling at the seams and spiraling out of control.
The whispers of your insecurities had turned into a sympathy of screams. Scorching hot tears streamed down your cheeks in the kitchen. Your weight has always been an issue. People don’t second guess the things they say at times.
“Gosh, you’re so skinny, you need to put some meat on your bones.”
“Is that really all you’re going to eat?”
“One blow from the wind and you’re going to fall over at this rate.”
Some people are blessed with rapid metabolisms and some are cursed. No matter how much you consume, your body works it off. Over and over and over and over and over. Just when you think you’ve gained a pound, the scale says you’re down another half of a pound.
What does your boyfriend think about it? He always says you look wonderful, but does he really mean it? What if he’s lying? Members of your family have stated that you look like you’re on your deathbed.
What if you’re not good enough? What if this body isn’t great? What if nothing changes? What if you’re cursed to be this weight forever? What if? What if? What if?
It was a spur of the moment decision. Ever since you lost another two pounds within the last week, something inside of you seemed to snap. That’s when you found yourself tearing through kitchen cabinets.
Thoughts were swirling as you ripped open the package of oreo cookies you bought. It was one and then it was two and you blinked and half the row was gone. Crumbs caked your lips and all you could do was wipe them along your sweater sleeve.
As much as you were spiraling, you were desperate to gain control. Surely, if you ate enough, you could put on a pound or two, right? Right? You had to.
Crinkling filled the air as you opened a bag of brand new chips. The kind that were too salty and you knew they weren’t healthy, but you did it anyway. Life felt better with the occasional unhealthy snack. People weren’t perfect and neither were you.
Staring at the back of the calorie contents, you lost track of how many chips you placed in your mouth. People didn’t seem to binge on the fruits and vegetables.
It was the sugary sweetened foods that stuck to your sides. The salty chips and pretzels. The kind of food that was full of empty calories, but you didn’t care. You were desperate to gain a pound.
People don’t understand what it’s like until they’re there. You will never understand what it’s like to be skin and bones until it’s all that you are. You will never understand what it’s like to carry around a pudgy stomach that bounces with every step until you are there.
Weight fluctuates and bodies are different. We only get one, but it’s so easy to abuse it. To never eat enough. To over consume and eat too much. You didn’t think you were doing anything wrong with your body.
You ate your food and that was that. It wasn’t a ton of food, but it wasn’t like you were starving yourself either. Yet, at the exact same time, your body seemed to stay thin.
The more you spiraled, the more you lost track. You didn’t remember what you put in your mouth. Everything tasted like defeat, even the oreos.
It kept going and going. Your stomach began to ache with the amount of food you consumed, but you couldn’t stop. It was overwhelming and all too much. Everything hurt and you just wanted to break down and sob.
When you caught the reflection of yourself in the microwave, that’s exactly what you did. The lump in your throat pulsed and the tears welled up again. The box of crackers in your hand dropped to the floor and you grabbed the counter top for support.
Your body caved and slumped over the cold marble top. With a forehead pressed into the marble, you cried. You cried because it wasn’t fair. You cried because you hated what you were doing to your body. You cried because you were worried about how you were perceived. You cried because everything was overwhelming and too much. You hated yourself and it hurt like hell.
Piercing sobs racked the empty kitchen and bounced off the walls. They reverberated back to you and you were left alone with the heart-shattering reality of what you were doing. You ate so much, you were nauseous.
Your stomach twisted and churned. A fresh layer of saliva coated your tongue. The queasy feeling caused you to squeeze your eyes shut. All you could do was just cry harder.
Your sobs were the first thing that Chan heard when he unlocked and pushed the door open. Fear struck his heart and he ripped off his bag. Not caring that his laptop was in it, it dropped to the ground with a heavy thud.
He rushed into the kitchen and found you slung over the counter. “Baby? Baby?” His hand went to your back and he tugged you into his arms.
The warmth of his chest made you cry harder. You hated that this was who you were. Why couldn’t you have another body? Why did it have to be this way? Why couldn’t it just be different?
“What’s wrong?” His eyes scanned your face. “Why are you crying? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” His hands gently cupped your cheeks. He positioned your face up towards him. “Please talk to me.”
“I-I hate myself,” you uttered hoarsely with a hiccup. “I’m not good enough. I can’t gain weight and I’m a walking skeleton and I-”
His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” A reassuring thumb ran over your cheek.
“My body isn’t good enough. Not for you. Not for me. Not for anyone.”
Knowing that you thought so negatively of yourself, it stung. It shoved an arrow through his heart and he shook his head. “Listen to me, you’re perfect the way you are. Just because y-”
“You don’t get it!” You snapped angrily. Your hands shoved at his shoulders and he stumbled back in shock. “You don’t get it because you’re perfect! You can gain weight and you can lose weight. You can do whatever you want and I-” Your voice cracked and cut off.
He didn’t utter a word. He knew you were struggling, so he just opened his arms. With a quivering bottom lip, you let yourself fall forward. Sturdy arms grabbed you and he pressed your head against his chest.
The steady lull of his heart made you burst into tears. A weak and hoarse apology fell from your lips. All he could do was quietly shush you as he rubbed your back.
“I know that it’s hard. I know what it’s like to struggle with your self image. Maybe I don’t know exactly what it is, but I’m right here and I love you. Please don’t push me away just because you’re struggling. I might not understand, but we can figure it out together. I’m not going anywhere and you know that.”
That last reassurance was the final straw. Your knees buckled and your fingers dug into his cotton shirt. Down the both of you went and you landed on his lap.
He pressed you against him as tight as he dared. With your eyes shut and your forehead pressed into the nape of his neck. He soothed you softly while rubbing your back.
Even if he didn’t understand exactly, he’d wait here for as long as he had to. He’d be here until the kitchen was pulled into darkness and the sun went down outside. He didn’t care if he had to be here all night.
He’d do whatever it took to remind you that no matter how you saw yourself, you weren’t entirely alone.
| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |
Taglist: @lina-linny @straykidsstanforeverandever @seungnishi @stellasays45
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On Hyper Independent Characters (and how not to make them the bad guy)
So many characters with “trust issues” are painted out to be cynical little gremlins who just need to ~open their hearts~ and ~let the love in~ like doing so, repeatedly, has only proven them right every single time, but this one love interest will swoop in and save the day.
The people who write these characters tend to do so in bad faith, as if their fears and trust issues are unfounded nonsense, like they’re wrong and Negative Nellys for being wary.
So!
From experience (thus this is hella biased), here’s some thoughts on writing an independent character with trust issues that isn’t belittling.
1. It’s likely not that kind of trust they have issues with
I said this before a while ago, but “trust issues” paired with an extreme sense of self-reliance isn’t “I think everyone is a liar,” but rather “I think everyone is unreliable”. It might stem from a place of constantly being let down, of constantly having the people in their life drop the ball on major events, but also little things, even something as simple as “hey yeah I’ll totally do the dishes” and then they continue to sit there, forcing the person to be a nag about it, or just do it themselves.
These kinds of personalities tend to grow up surrounded by unkept and empty promises, where, while it might not be every single occasion, it happens one too many times for them to keep giving the benefit of the doubt. Even when people have the best of intentions and mean it when they say they’ll do XYZ in the moment, and they really just forgot, the person they made the promise to is impatiently waiting for them to remember 12-day-old dishes.
2. Why don’t they just remind people to keep their promises?
If you’re in my boat, many people with commitment issues are also narcissists or just mean, who, if you even gently remind them, make you out to be a nagging, impatient brat. And to avoid hearing that again, you just don’t speak up. Too many times where ‘forgetting’ has been from a source of a weird power fantasy, intentionally screwing you over, leaves people sitting in a state of unknowing whether it’s benign neglect or very much on purpose, and afraid to voice their concerns to be proven right.
If you’re not in my boat, chronic “forgetters” aren’t going to change without intervention. So if I ask you to do the dishes once, and you forget, that’s one thing. If I ask you twice, three times, four times, nagging over and over again, then the benefit of the doubt is shredded, and I can’t help but assume that the “forgetting” is on purpose. Either weaponized incompetence or something more benign, doesn’t matter. Even if you have some executive dysfunction, that's an explanation, not an excuse, and the people you live with aren't your maids.
Either way, these personalities might grow up with a whole slew of self-worth issues, and be reluctant to make plans with people, invite friends to important events, or get excited about big milestones, because they’re so used to people they care about “forgetting” or canceling last minute that the only one they can trust to reliably show up is themselves.
3. Why don’t they just communicate these fears?
See the “narcissists” in point 2
4. Isn’t it lonely never letting people in?
Fuck yeah, it is. The thing is, though, that if you spend your whole life learning how to do everything alone—pay your bills, do ‘couple’ or ‘friend’ activities, run errands, take yourself out to places—the idea of having to squeeze in the wants and needs of someone else might start to sound incredibly inconvenient.
If you’re so used to being on your own schedule and reaping the benefits of being a party of 1 in crowded spaces (I just took myself to dinner at a place with an hour long wait, able to be seated immediately at the last remaining barstool), of not having to wait for someone else to confirm plans, negotiate who’s driving, negotiate a time to meet up, food to order, a movie to see, a roller coaster to ride, a game or streaming service to buy—everything is entirely under your control, sacrificing convenience for the chance that the person you invite actually shows up on time and is invested as you are isn’t really worth the risk.
That's not to say I don't enjoy when I get to do things with friends, but I can equally enjoy doing things alone as opposed to whining about it.
Personally, while I can daydream about having a romantic partner, that thought is always immediately followed up by the understanding that they’ll be an inconvenience to my independence. But I’m someone who’s always had to do the emotional labor in a relationship, who’s always the most organized, the most mature, the most level-headed in tough situations. Always been the person in groupwork who does all the work. The idea of being “a team” is a fantasy meant for other people. “Team” to me is “me and this deadweight that I have to drag around”.
5. How I’d like to see this represented in characters
Dropping “the one” into their lives and having this person swept up, broken out of their little pessimistic shell, in some epic romance, as if they only needed to find the right person and nothing at all goes wrong… is bad faith.
It’s bad faith because it minimizes this kind of independence as just a little mood problem that can be fixed right quick, that it’s inherently wrong—what was all the fuss about?
What I’d like to see is examples that prove they’re not crazy. Big and little things. Dishes, and big events. Then, they can meet “the one,” but not without some trial and error. A lifetime of “people suck and are unreliable” isn’t going to be snapped away bibbidi bobbidi boo after one good date. This magical person will have to show up, and keep showing up, and keep showing up, and the one time they don’t, because they won’t, then A and B can hash it out like adults.
6. How this person might act
I’ve never actually met somebody like me and we’d either be best friends or loathe each other. But this person might be the most reliable friend you’ve ever had, because they’re so afraid of becoming like everyone in their life who let them down before. If you ask a favor of them, it gets done with supernatural haste.
This person might also have their own commitment issues, where instead of failing to keep their promises, they punish themselves by keeping promises they hate, showing up out of spite and resentment because they said they would, lest they be called a hypocrite.
They might under-share or not speak up about accomplishments in their life until the time for hype and anticipation has passed, lest they share expecting the same level of excitement only to be met with apathy. They might not show visible excitement about objectively exciting things, because they’re so used to plans falling through that they won’t believe something is happening until they are physically in the location and it’s staring them in the face.
Thus, they might look frequently bored or unhappy and unmoved by something important to you, or something you thought they’d like (especially if you’ve let them down before, trust is a privilege, not a right).
7. What I’d like people to understand most of all
First, that some of us tend to live by the “if you want something done right do it yourself” mantra, so actually asking somebody for help with something is admitting that X cannot be done alone, which makes failure to keep a promise even worse. As in, if A goes out of their way to admit they can’t do F alone and risk being let down to ask B to do this one little thing for them, and B still drops the ball, A is going to sit there and think “this is why I have trust issues”.
Can’t speak for everyone, but yes I do acknowledge that the suffering in silence isn’t helping anyone and am working on it. Counterpoint: Weaponized incompetence is very real and an adult should not have to remind another adult to keep their living space clean, at the bare minimum. Agreeing to do a thing is at least equal responsibility on the inviter and invitee and "you didn't remind me" isn't a valid excuse.
But most importantly, if you have a friend or relative who is fiercely independent, I’d implore you to learn one thing: Do not make promises that you can’t keep. And if shit happens and you have to cancel even when you had the best of intentions, have the decency to tell them and make the best effort you can to reschedule ASAP, instead of putting the impetus on them to do the rescheduling. Make it absolutely clear that you do, in fact, care, and weren’t going out of some apathetic sense of obligation.
I cannot count the amount of times I have asked a friend to do something for me, they eagerly agreed, and then my very real deadlines come and go and they say absolutely nothing, so I have to nag them, and nag them, and then they turn it back on me with a “obviously you can see that I’m busy and you’re not paying me for this” when all they had to do was say “no I can’t help you” (two whole humans; we are not friends anymore).
The ability to be approached with a request for a favor, step back and think about it, and go “No, I don’t think I can do that in that time frame/at this moment I’m going through a lot/with the skill the task requires” is apparently ridiculously rare. I’d infinitely prefer a no upfront than a yes, bank on that yes, and then wait around hoping someone follows through.
Not saying anything is really rude. If you agree to X, the person who asked you is fully expecting you to do X. They shouldn’t have to be lining up backup plans and last minute helpers scrambling to do the job you promised would get done.
—
Not exaggerating when I say it happens in so many areas. I’ve needed very important things like recommendation letters, or actual paid beta readers on a very hard deadline and still scrambled at the last minute to find replacements that sometimes cost real money for rush fees. I’ve been left waiting at an event for an hour minimum only to finally receive a ‘hey I can’t come’ text and then go home. I’ve told people multiple times, “hey, if you’re going to do X, please do it like this and have some consideration for my things that you’re borrowing” and just… be ignored.
As somebody who gets whatever’s asked of me done immediately, no matter how busy I am, man is it hard to keep accepting “sorry I forgot” as an excuse, from multiple people, multiple times.
The nice thing, though, the big benefit of hyper-independence is that I have learned so many skills out of a compulsion to just do it myself instead of gambling with the accountability of another flighty human. Handyman things for my home and my car, but artistic things, too. So there’s that.
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love seeing you hate on the showtime ruler set . keep up the good work
I appreciate it! but I don’t think it’s something praise worthy. I think speaking up about the issues with RMD should be the norm and it’s disappointing that it isn’t. You would think that “I don’t think the cultures of historically marginalized and oppressed groups should be used as costumes” wouldn’t be a hot take. but apparently it is.
On the subject of that: I’ve heard a lot of people say “it’s not really based on native Americans” and “they didn’t know any better.”
To the first point: that is probably correct. It most likely draws inspiration from the colonist idea of indigenous people in general, but more specifically the Ainu (indigenous people to Japan).
Which brings me to the second point - they absolutely should have known better (and saying otherwise warrants a discussion on the infantilization of East Asians as well as Japan apologism in general. but that’s off topic).
The Ainu have historically been subjected to absolutely horrific violence and oppression by the Japanese government, on par with how the US has treated Native Americans. They were viewed as primitive and barbaric. Their land was taken, Ainu women were sexually assaulted, they were forbidden from practicing their religion, they were put into Japanese speaking schools and forbidden to speak their own language. They were forced to assimilate by law. In 2008 there were ~100 native Ainu speakers. The Ainu weren’t recognized as an ethnically distinct group by the Japanese government until 2019, but they are still continually erased by the push for a homogenous national identity.
Portraying the colonization of indigenous people as a simple “well both sides were prejudiced against each other they just needed to hold hands and get along :)” erases the very real history of oppression against indigenous groups. It allows people to ignore the atrocities committed and their lasting impact. Native Americans and the Ainu (as well as other indigenous people) are still feeling the effects of colonization. It’s not an issue that can or should be viewed as a thing of the past.
Portraying indigenous people as a vague fantasy race/group or as a costume contributes to their continued erasure. It leads to people believing indigenous people and their culture no longer exist. The reality is replaced by the fictional representation.
Phrased more eloquently by Gerald Vizenor (and the person he is quoting) in Mannifest Manners:
“… other masters of manifest manners in the nineteenth century, and earlier, represented tribal cultures as the other; to them ‘language did the capturing, binding Indian society to a future of certain extinction,’ wrote Larzer Ziff in Writing in the New Nation. ‘Treating living Indians as sources for a literary construction of a vanished way of life rather than as members of a vital continuing culture, such writers used words to replace rather than to represent Indian reality.’
[…]
“Those who ‘memorialized rather than perpetuated’ a tribal presence and wrote ‘Indian history as obituary’ were unconsciously collaborating ‘with those bent on physical extermination’ argued Ziff.”
(P.8, emphasis mine)
Vizenor is speaking about Native Americans here, but I think it’s applicable to this situation as well.
This post goes into it a bit more, in terms of harmful tropes present in the RMD story itself.
There’s definitely character related reasons to dislike the RMD story, but I think it cheapens the discussion to center it around “why rui wouldn’t write that” because that is not the important issue and defending a fictional character from the colonization apologist allegations is like. A non issue. Considering everything else.
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