#like was someone supposed to warn me I’d have to lose friends to calorie counting and hustle culture

[daizylament]

nobody tells you how lonely protecting your peace can be or how necessary it becomes the more life you experience

[belliesareneat]

Title: Eat

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Word Count: 1900

Pairings: Toshinori/Aizawa

Warnings: It’s a fat kink/weight gain story y’all.

Summary: Several years ago, Shouta and Toshinori had been in love. Toshinori had even been planing to propose, but the relationship fell apart, and the two split up. After his fight with All for One, Toshinori struggles to keep weight up.

When Shouta and Toshinori had been dating, they had shared and engaged in a mutual kink which led to Toshinori becoming a bit softer around the middle. So when he keeps losing weight, Toshinori does the logical thing and asks his ex for help.

Because there’s no way that could go wrong.

Chapter: 1 (Prologue)

Toshinori loathed going to the doctor. After the injury, he was forced to find a good doctor who could keep a secret about his true form. Every time he visited doctor Higoshi Hiroe, she would always have bad news for him.

“Your lung isn't healing properly. You need to take it easy.”

“Your remaining organs have shifted around. We're going to have to operate and put silicon in the space of your missing organs.”

“You're malnourished. Honestly, I'm surprised you can fight like you do. Most other men wouldn't be able to get out of bed.”

Toshinori would always smile and take whatever bad news she said with a laugh. Responding to grief and pain with happiness had been in response for so long that it had become second nature.

Still, he hated visiting her. It was always one more reminder that his time as All Might was dwindling and that his true form was nothing more than a weak, empty bag of flesh.

“You've lost two pounds this month,” Dr. Hiroe announced.

Toshinori looked at the scale. He gently patted his middle.

“I'll start eating extra at dinner.”

Dr. Hiroe ignored his lie.

The lights made him feel hot. Several people in crowd were holding up signs declaring their love for him. This interview would get high ratings. All Might was proud of himself, and he felt honored that he was able to be the pillar of strength that Japan deserved.

The talk show host was a man in his late forties. Both he and Toshinori were dressed in nice suits. Toshinori's clothing was stretched over his muscular form. He gave a laugh as he answered the host's latest questions.

“Nonsense! There is nowhere I'd rather be, nothing I'd rather do than serve the people of Japan! Being a hero is everything I wanted to be.”

The host gave a polite laugh in return.

“And we're lucky to have you. Japan has never been safer than we have been at home, but surely there is more to All Might than the hero we know? What do you do on your days off?”

All Might had no days off. Even when he was at home, his phone was on in case anyone needed him, and he was always listening for cries of help.

“Of course, I am always working out to maintain my physical shape. When I have the time, I like to cook a new dish or watch a movie.”

Eating had once been one of his favorite things to do. Now, he would skip lunch if it was inconvenient, and when he did eat, he'd only get through a quarter of what he used to. He would often make his favorite meals to try to convince himself to eat, and while it often worked, he rarely found time for it.

“I love to cook myself, but anytime I try, my wife chases me out of the kitchen.” The audience laughed. “Speaking of spouses, is there anyone special in your life, All Might?”

The question caught him off guard, and a small, awkward silence filled the air.

Since becoming All Might, Toshinori had been in one relationship, and that had ended six years ago. Aizawa still held a special place in his heart, though Toshinori wasn't sure what it was. He would keep an eye out for the hero Eraserhead when he read the news even though he knew he would never be in it. He didn't pine for the man, but a part of him still considered him a friend, even if they hadn't spoken in years.

Slipping back into character, All Might laughed.

“My husband is Japan! I could never cheat on him.”

Him, because All Might's sexuality had never been a secret.

The host nodded.

“And we're lucky to have you! Now, you said you enjoyed cooking. What's your signature dish?”

“I make a mean bowl of tonkotsu ramen It's delicious! Now, it's very rich, so it's not something I can have every night, but if you're interested, I can share the recipe with you.”

“I thank we'd all like that,” the talk show host said, and the crowd cheered.

Toshinori stepped on the scale. The doctor's office was quiet, and Toshinori felt his insides twist as he waited for the numbers to stop spinning.

When they did, he scolded himself for skipping dinner the previous night. He had been tired and didn't want to cook, but he should have forced himself to.

The doctor looked up from her clipboard to read the scale.

“Your weight's continuing to go down. Your health is bad enough as it is. Keep it up, and I wouldn't be surprised if you started collapsing, even as All Might.”

Toshinori winced.

“I know. I'll try to take better care of myself.”

Because this was all his fault. This was avoidable.

Dr. Hiroe sighed. “We can insert a feeding tube into your intestines, if you like. It could make things easier. You could plug it up while you sleep, and you would get all your nutrients.”

Once, Toshinori had been chubby. He looked forward to every meal, and eating was so pleasurable he'd get hard from it. Now, he was malnourished and dreaded meals.

Her offer felt like an insult to him. He shook his head.

“No thank you. I'll handle this myself.”

In thinking things over, Toshinori decided that the best way for him to put on weight would be by not handling things by himself.

His hand was shaking slightly as he selected the contact.

The phone rang, and his heart raced as he heard the man on the other side pick up.

“All Might? What's up? It's not like you to call me.”

Toshinori inflated to his more muscular form.

“Aizawa! I know it his been years since we spoke, but I-”

He heard Aizawa sigh, and though he didn't ask him to, Toshinori returned to his normal state. Aizawa had always preferred Toshinori over All Might.

“...I want to ask you for a favor,” Toshinori said in his normal voice.

“Me?” Aizawa asked.

“Yes. You're the only one who could help me with his, or I wouldn't ask.”

“What is it?”

“It's not something I want to ask over the phone. Want to meet at that cafe we used to go to?”

“Just tell me over the phone. Is it hero business?”

Toshinori gulped. “No, it's personal. It's something I should ask in person.”

“Alright. What day?”

“Tuesday? I can meet you there at two.”

“Works for me.” There was a pause, then Aizawa added, “All Might, how are you? We haven't spoken in awhile.”

“I-”

How was he supposed to answer that? He couldn't just admit that his health was horrible and that he was planning to pass One for All to someone else. But he had to answer, and if he said good, he'd be lying.

“I've had better days. You know how it is. Being a hero is hard on the body.”

“Uh-hu.”

There was another awkward pause.

“So I'll see you Tuesday!”

“Yep.”

Aizawa hung up.

The coffee shop was warm and cozy. Toshinori wrapped his malnourished body in an oversized t-shirt, and while he waited, he sipped on coffee. He put a generous amount of creamer in it, and it almost drowned out the taste of the drink. Finishing an entire cup of coffee would leave him feeling full, but any calories were good calories. He was half-way through his cup when Aizawa walked in. He was looking around the cafe, and he actually walked right past Toshinori.

It was so strange to see him in person. Toshinori could still feel those hands in him, and he remembered perfectly how their bodies felt pushed together.

“Aizawa,” Toshinori called out.

Aizawa noticed him. Aizawa was not a very expressive man. His emotions just didn't make it to his face. Still, his eyes widened at the sight of the other superhero.

“Toshinori...? God. What happened to you?”

“It's a long story.” Toshinori gestured to the seat across from him, and Aizawa sat in it.

“Is it related to the favor you need?”

There was no small talk with Aizawa.

“Yes. You see...” Even though no one but Aizawa knew he was All Might, Toshinori still dropped his volume to a whsiper. “Five years ago, during a fight, I suffered horrible damage. I lost one of my lungs, and my stomach had to be removed.”

Aizawa was able to see the realization cross his face.

“Shit,” the hero said.

Toshinori nodded.

“And that's what I would like your help for. Lately, I hate food. It's a pain.” Every meal was a reminder that he wasn't taking care of himself, and that if he didn't change, he'd keep getting weaker and weaker. “Aizawa, I want you to help me put on weight.”

Aizawa just stared at him.

“Yagi, what you're asking...”

“I know. It's a horrible thing for me to ask but...I've said everything I wanted to.”

Aizawa rubbed his forehead, which Toshinori remembered meant he was thinking hard.

“You should get a doctor to put you on a diet, not me. I have a fetish. I'm not a nutritionist.”

“I have, and I have had multiple meal plans made for me, but they don't make me want to eat.”

Not like Aizawa had.

“Are you talking about a friends with benefits, or...?”

Toshinori gulped.

“If that's how you want to do things.”

Because food had become sexual with them, and if Aizawa was going to help him put on weight, he knew he was going to be turned on by it.

And really, what better motivator was there than sex?

“Give me some time to think about it.”

“Of course.” There was an awkward moment of silence. “So, Aizawa, how have you been?”

He had missed the other man. He yearned to learn what he had been up to since they split.

The two of them talked until Toshinori's unfinished coffee grew cold, and it was not because he couldn't finish it but because he had forgotten it was there.

Toshinori got a text at three in the morning. He was meeting with Nezu about a potential successor for One for All tomorrow and knew he should get some sleep before that, but he couldn't.

I'll help you, read the text Aizawa sent him. Are you free tomorrow for lunch?

We can talk about what you can and can't eat.

Toshinori squinted at the light of his phone.

I am, he typed back. Where are we meeting?

The burger place by my apartment.

And get some rest, Yagi. No one should be up at this hour.

I'll try. Thank you. I will see you tomorrow.

Toshinori couldn't help but smile at the text. Then, against his better judgment, he sent another one.

But that's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?

Go to bed, Aizawa replied seconds later.

[arrow-guy]

Urgent Care

A/N: Okay, so I wrote this loosely based on this post that @imagine-assembling-the-avengers reblogged a little over a month ago because I couldn’t help myself. I think it may have gotten a little out of hand, but I’m p happy with the way it’s turned out! I just hope you guys feel the same way lmao

Pairing: AvengersxReader

Word Count: 5185

Warnings: Slight angst?

“Margaret Carter?”

“Yes?” The woman lying on the hospital bed manages to rasp out. Her breathing is labored and she’s fighting to keep her eyes open. “Who…” She trails off, trying to catch her breath. “Who are you?”

“You don’t know me, but I know how to help you.”

She lets out a hoarse laugh. “How could you help me? I’m dying, dear. There’s nothing to be done.”

“There’s always something to be done.” I shake my head and step towards her. “I have… well, I have powers. I can restore you to the way you were in the forties; young, spry and healthy.”

“How is it that you have these powers?” She asks, wary of the newly presented information.

“I’m an Inhuman, Ms. Carter. When Terrigen mists were released in my city, I was lucky enough to have the necessary alien genes to form a chrysalis and develop powers. Now,” I place my hands on my hips. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Why do you want to help me?”

“Because your idiot godson and too-pretty-for-his-own-good ex are about to do something so stupid that it’ll destroy the balance between supers and civilians as we know it.”

Her eyes widen. “And how do you happen to know this?”

“Not illegally, I can promise you that. I just happen to have Inhuman informants on the inside.”

“Alright… but how do you expect to explain my sudden, miraculous transformation to the hospital staff?”

“Oh, the hospital won’t know. They’ll think you’ve died.”

“And how do you expect to pull that off?”

“Tetrodotoxin B, Ms. Carter. It slows the heart rate to one beat per minute. Dr. Banner is quite brilliant, regardless of whether or not his inventions work the way he intended them.”

“So, I’ll be dead, will I?”

“Legally, yes.”

“And when I wake, I’ll be young again. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

She’s silent for a moment, staring at something directly in front of her. She purses her lips and turns back to me “Do it.”

“Cool,” I smirk and produce a syringe of the tetrodotoxin b and take a step closer to the woman on the bed. “I suggest you get comfortable. You’re gonna be out for a while.”

–

“Ms. Carter,” I snap my fingers in front of her face in an attempt to rouse her. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

Her eyelids flutter momentarily before her eyes snap open and she sits bolt upright, eyes wide. She looks at me in confusion then down at her hands and, if it’s even possible, her eyes widen further. “This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“Thought you might ask that,” I hand her a mirror and grab my coffee from the table next to her bed. “So I brought backup.”

“How can you do this?” She asks, tearing her eyes away from her reflection. “I realize you have powers, but how can you use them without draining yourself?”

I shrug. “I just have to make sure I take in enough calories before I do anything. Either that, or I drain something or someone else”

“Someone?” She asks, lifting one perfectly shaped eyebrow. She’s trying her hardest to keep her cool, but the mask is slipping.

I shrug again. “If I have to, yes.” I finish with my coffee and crush the slightly soggy paper cup in my hand. “It’s not ideal but, y'know, desperate times and all.”

She nods her understanding and casts her eyes around the room. “Where are we?”

“Motel about half an hour’s drive from the Avengers facility in upstate New York. We have to get to there before dark.”

“You told me Steve and Tony were about to do something only I could stop. What exactly am I stopping?”

“Tony and a number of the other Avengers are about to sign the Sokovia accords. The accords were drawn up in order to move the power over those with powers to the government. Anyone with powers who doesn’t sign, meaning mutants, Inhumans and any other sort of enhanced person, will immediately be marked a criminal and they will be pursued and captured. If they are coerced to sign, they’ll be assigned to a team and all will be fine and dandy.”

“And if they refuse?”

“They’ll be put in prison. Specifically the kind that’s submerged in the middle of the ocean somewhere. They call them rafts. I like to call them hell.”

“Tony wouldn’t dare. “

“I think you’ll find that he would.” I snort. “He’s done a lot of things that he’s not proud of and he’s made some things that he lost control of. He thinks that if there’s someone to keep them in control, then he can prevent any potential future disasters.”

“And Steve…?”

“Steve disagrees, obviously.”

She smiles, likes she’s remembering something. “He never really did like having someone tell him what to do.”

“It’s more than that though. The accords affect everyone. Any powered person who doesn’t sign is a criminal. If someone’s in hiding and has to expose themselves to help an innocent in the street, no matter how pure their intentions, will be put away if they don’t sign.”

“How am I supposed to straighten them out? I’m not an unstoppable force.”

“You’re the only thing left they don’t want to lose. Steve’s probably already gotten an alert letting him know you’ve passed. We have to get to the compound before something drastic happens.”

“Alright then,” She swings her legs over the side of the bed and pushes herself up. “What are we waiting for?”

“For you to change out of your grandma gown.” I rise from my seat and grab the clothing I bought for her and throw the wadded up items at her. “You look ridiculous.”

She readily catches the clothing and looks down at the nightgown she’s currently wearing before laughing. “I suppose the nightgown does age me. Where is the restroom?”

“Just down the hall there,” I point in the general direction. “I’ll pack up and start the car.”

She nods and walks off to the bathroom to change. I shove all of the clothing that’s laying around into the duffel that I brought, leaving a pair of shoes and socks out for Peggy to put on when she returns from the bathroom. Other than the possessions that I brought with, I grab the notepad and ballpoint pen from the table closest to the door and scribble down the phone number of my informant and a message that I’ll have Peggy send on either we’re on our way to the compound. After finishing with the message I take both the notepad and pen, but leave behind the key card on the table.

I fling the duffel in the back of the car and slam the door before dropping heavily into the driver’s seat and loudly closing the door.

It’s about ten minutes before Peggy slides into the passenger seat. I start the engine and, as soon I as she’s buckled her seatbelt, I tear out of the parking lot.

We ride in silence until Ms. Carter can’t stand it any longer. She shifts in her seat and angles her body towards mine. I feel her gaze weighing on me like a ton of bricks.

“Spit it out before I hit you.”

“What exactly is it that you can do?”

“In what context, Ms. Carter.”

“Your powers.” She says. “What are the extend of your powers?”

“Oh. Well, I manipulate stored energy. I can drain energy from people, plants, animals, you name it. I can also give that power back. If I have to, I can weaponize it, but I prefer to keep my talents in the infirmary.”

“Is that how you met your informant?”

“More or less yes. He and I worked at the Avengers facility together. He’s a weapons technician and I worked in the infirmary. More often than not, he would get injured trying to help Stark with his tech and I’d have to patch him up.” I concentrate on the road signs my eyebrows furrowing. “I got pretty well acquainted with most of the Avengers, if I’m being honest. After they found out about my powers they would occasionally come see me for a little energy boost before missions. Not all of them will be happy to see me, so please don’t be offended if I use you like a human shield.”

“Why wouldn’t they be happy to see you?” She asks, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Let’s just say I couldn’t be exactly what they wanted.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I sigh, my grip tightening around the steering wheel. “During the Ultron incident the team picked up a couple of kids. They went to Sokovia and only one of the kids came back alive. They wanted me to bring him back, but I couldn’t. His brain had been without oxygen for too long and I couldn’t do anything to help.” I wipe a frustrated tear away with my thumb. “No one was too happy to have me around at that point, so I left. I kept in touch with my informant and, from what he tells me, at least a few of them think I’m a deserter.”

“That hardly seems appropriate.” She turns her body back to the front of the car and focuses her eyes on the road.

“Yeah, well I left when things got hard. Their words hold some truth. Can’t really be upset when I’m the one who gave up and ran away.” I flip open the compartment between the two front seats and fish out the note I had written earlier and the cell phone and toss them into her lap. “The past doesn’t matter. The present does though, so text that message to the number on the paper.”

–

I stop the car in a secluded area a ways away from the facility. It looks almost exactly the way it did the day I left.

“So this is the Avengers facility?”

“Yup.”

“It’s not as large as I would have expected Tony to have built it.”

“There’s more to it than what you see right here.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and pull myself out of the car. Peggy follows and joins me on my side of the car. “There are a bunch of buildings that you can’t see from here and there’s a large portion of the facility that’s underground.” I point to a small building a few yards away. “That’s how we’re getting in. We just have to wait for my friend to open the door.”

“And when is that supposed to happen?”

“Just give the man a second. He does work in one of the most heavily fortified facilities in the world.”

“What is that building anyway? It’s so small, I can’t imagine it having much more use than a small shed.”

“It’s the underground entrance. Most people who live outside of the facility use it to come and go, especially those of us who work, or rather worked on the lower levels of the facility.”

“Huh,”

The doors slide open, revealing my friend who stands there staring in our general direction. I lock the car and gesture to Ms. Carter to follow me. She sticks close, understanding the risk of sneaking into the compound.

“It’s about damn time you got here.” He says as soon as we’re in earshot. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “Shut up and give me a hug you asshole.” He laughs and pulls me into a brief but tight hug. “We works have been here sooner, but restoring her drained me more than I expected it to.”

He nods and looks over my shoulder to Ms. Carter. “It’s an honor to meet you ma’am. We’ve all heard great things.”

“It’s good to meet you too.” She nods respectfully. “I have no idea what your names are though.”

“You didn’t tell her our names?!”

“It never came up!”

“You’re hopeless.” He sighs in resignation. “I’m Jared and they’re (Y/N).”

“Alright,” Peggy nods once again.

“Okay, we should head inside before we get caught out here. I’d rather go to them than have them come to us.” I suggest stepping aside to allow Peggy to go through the door before me. Jared nods and we follow him down three flights of stairs and into his small office at the very end of the corridor.

As soon as the door is closed I open an application on my phone and activate it before nodding to Jared. He nods back and nod grabs a spare uniform that he managed to smuggle out of the laundry from behind his desk.

“How long do we have until they know something’s up?” He asks.

“Maybe fifteen minutes, twenty if we’re lucky.” I answer taking one of the uniforms from him and immediately beginning to change into it.  “Stark, we should start worrying around ten.”

“Alright then, here’s the plan; Stark and Rogers aren’t exactly talking to each other right now. Last I heard, Rogers was mourning the loss of Ms. Carter here. You walk past a few security cameras, freak out the security staff enough that they call Stark in to check, he alerts the rest of the team and you wait for them to come to you.”

“Cool,” I zip the front of the uniform and stuff the cap on my head. “Anyone I should be particularly worried about?”

“Romanoff and Barton always seemed to like you, so they probably won’t be a huge problem. The Vision is just…”

“Vision?” I offer.

Jared snorts. “Let’s say he’s learning. You see the news a couple days ago?” I nod.  “Wanda’s in a bad spot, she may not even show up.”

“Might be for the best. I got weird energy readings off of her when she realized I couldn’t bring her brother back.” I nod. “Anyone else I should be wary of aside from the fearless leaders?”

“Rhodes and Wilson joined up, so you might want to watch out for them.”

“Why is it that you’re warning them but not me?” Peggy asks.

“Because you’re the person who started all of this.” Jared says, gesturing to the facility in general. “Who would dare hurt you?

“Even so-”

“Listen,” I cut her off “I’m the one who pissed everyone off. Anyone who’s still upset with me is more likely to just punch me and then ask questions. If they don’t recognize you, they still won’t initially hurt a civilian. You’re fine.”

“If you insist.”

“She’s right, Ms. Carter.” Jared glances at the clock. “You two better get going if you want to get this done.”

I nod. “Alright, let’s go.”

We bid Jared farewell and head back out into the facility. I take her down past the gym where the Captain worked out when he wanted to be alone and check the window to the main door. Sure enough, he’s in there, pounding away at a bag near the doors. I slip away before he can see me and nod to Peggy. She nods back and takes her place in front of the door.

Taking a knee, I press the palms of my hands flat against the concrete floor. I close my eyes and focus on the Captain’s energy signature. When I’m sure that I’ve locked onto his unique energy, I send a jolt through the floor and into his body in hopes of it startling him enough to get him to look around and see his lost love standing at the door.

At the sound of Ms. Carter’s soft gasp, I grab her wrist and haul her down the corridor, whipping the both of us around a corner and pressing us against the wall. We hear the doors slam open and the slapping of feet against concrete as Steve thunders out of the gym. As soon as we hear his footsteps retreat we move on to our next point.

We quickly make our way to the hangar. There are rows upon rows of quinjets in various states of disrepair. Several technicians shout a greeting and I wave back, grinning at their reactions when they realize who we are.

“(Y/N)!”

I glance over my shoulder to see who’s trying to get my attention. When I see someone jogging to catch up with us I stop Ms. Carter and turn around to wait. I squint at them, trying to figure out who they are and it takes a while for it to click.

“Freddy?” I call, “Is that you?”

He laughs as he comes to a stop in front of me. “The one and only.”

“You’ve put on some weight, man.” I comment, pulling him into a hug. “It’s a good look for you.”

He laughs again, slapping me heartily on my back before releasing me from the hug. “I’ll have you know it’s all muscle!”

I snort in amusement. “Yeah, whatever you say, Fred.” He grins at me and I laugh at his response. “How’re the wife and kids?”

“Still just as tickled as ever that I have a job.” He answers. Peggy catches his attention and I immediately see the rebellious sparkle glint in his eyes. “So you’re really doing it, huh? Restoring balance to the Avengers?”

“We’re sure as hell gonna try.”

“Well good on you,” He leans in slightly and lowers his voice. “Though I’m glad I’m not the one who has to be there when the shit hits the fan.”

“I would never ask that of you. You have a family to protect. I don’t want to mess that up for you.” A loud siren cuts through the air and I sigh loudly. “That’s our cue, Ms. Carter.”

“It was lovely to meet you, Fred.” Peggy says, nodding to the stout man in front of us.

“Same to you, ma’am.” He grins at the two of us and squeezes my arm in a silent wish of good luck.

I clap him on the shoulder and lead Peggy towards the exit on the other side of the hangar. Before we leave the massive room I take off the cap that I’m wearing and discard it, making it easier to recognize me.

I hold the door for Ms. Carter and follow after her as soon as she’s through the doorway, the door banging shut behind us.

“There they are!” Someone yells to our right. Upon further investigation I find a horde of facility security officers not too far off.

“Oh, this is getting good,” I say, shooting a manic grin at Peggy before grabbing her by the hand and rushing off in the direction opposite the security officers.

Without so much as a shout of complaint, Peggy races after me, managing to stick close to me as we wave through the maze-like halls of the facility.

As soon as we burst through the doors that lead to another open field on the other side of the compound we’re met by both Stark and Rhodes, their repulsors trained on the both of us. By the shouts coming from behind us I would hazard a guess that the security guards followed us out and, with any luck, the good captain himself.

“Was this part of the plan?” Ms. Carter hisses.

“Completely.” I answer. “Just stay very still.”

“Y know, I was really hoping we’d never see you again, (Y/N).” Stark’s voice scratches out of his suit.

“Believe me, if I could have avoided coming back, I would have.”

“Care to explain why you’re back then? And on top of that, why did you drag this innocent woman into your petty liitle fight with us?”

“Are you really such an incredible dumbass that you’ve already forgotten what your godmother looks like, Stark?” I question.

Tony snorts in derision. “Peggy Carter is dead. You really expect anyone to believe that you brought her back after claiming you couldn’t bring Maximoff back?”

“He had been without oxygen for too long. If I had even tried he would have been brain dead and that would have been a fate worse than death. I did everyone a favor. The fact that you still can’t see that just cements the fact that leaving this team was the best decision I ever made. However, I didn’t come here to dig up the past, I came to get you idiots the scolding of a lifetime.” I run a hand through my hair and square my shoulders defiantly. “Three days ago I paid Ms. Carter a visit in her hospital room. I offered her the chance to have her youth back and she accepted. Using one of Banner’s little inventions, I helped her fake her death and restored her.”

“You're… you’re really not lying about this, are you?” Steve’s voice sounds from behind me. I sigh loudly and turn around to face the man.

“I’ve caused you all enough pain as it is. I wouldn’t come back and spout nonsense just to rub salt into the wounds.”

Looking over my shoulder, I catch Ms. Carter’s eye and nod to her. Her jaw sets and she turns to face the man. I watch as his eyes go wide and tears form in his eyes.

“Hello, Steve.” She says quietly.

“I-I…” He stutters, searching for something to say. “You’re here.” He says finally.

Peggy nods once. “I am. “ She confirms before turning around again to face her godson. “Now, Anthony, this young person has filled me in on the, what did you call them?” She asks, turning her head towards me.

“The Sokovia Accords.” I answer.

“Yes, the Sokovia Accords.” She nods. “You can’t seriously be considering signing the blasted thing.”

“The accords are going to do a lot of good.” He says defensively.

“No, what they’re going to do is set back the progress we’ve made with powered people by several decades. Do you realize how hard it was to normalize the existence of mutants, Tony? Now with the appearance of Inhumans, we’re presented with an entirely new obstacle and the only thing signing those accords will do is not only criminalize, but demonize the existence of anyone with abilities.”

“Aunt Peggy-”

“I am not finished.” She says tersely. I imagine her tacking on a ‘young man’ at the end of her sentence and have to tamp down the urge to laugh. “Why exactly are you signing the accords? Did you think about how it would affect the rest of your team? How it would affect the rest of the world? Once you sign something like this and it takes hold, it’s very hard to dismantle it. Tell me, have you even read through the proposal?”

“I’ve skimmed it.”

“Of course you have.” I mutter, scrubbing a hand down my face.

“(Y/N), please, that’s not helping.” Peggy says curtly.

“Right, sorry. Force of habit.”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you know what they’re proposing to do with those who don’t sign the accords, Tony?”

“I don’t exactly remember for sure.” He answers. We can’t see his face, but I’m certain he’s trying to look anywhere but at Peggy right now.

“They’re going to put them in prison, dear. Prison. For something they can’t even control. And you think this is a good proposal?”

The faceplate of Tony’s mask finally slides up, revealing his uncertain expression. “We need someone to keep us in line. We can’t keep operating on our own. Too many bad things have happened when we’ve run unchecked and it can’t go on like this.”

“Then propose something else.” Peggy says evenly. “The two of you need to work together and draw up a document that you can both agree on.”

“That sounds… doable.” Steve says slowly.

“It damn well better be or, so help me, I will take over and make your lives a living hell until you straighten out. Even then, who knows what I’ll do!” Peggy threatens.

I watch Steve visibly stiffen and I find myself slightly amazed at the effect that this woman has on these two men. I knew she was important, but I guess even then I underestimated her.

When the two men don’t verbally react she shoots alternating disapproving looks at the two men. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, Peggy.” Steve nods fervently.

Peggy and I stare at Tony expectantly. He drops his gaze to the grass.

“Yes, Aunt Peggy.” He mumbles, his words just barely loud enough for us to hear.

Peggy nods in satisfaction. “Good. Now shake on it.”

Both men stare at her, eyes wide. She just lifts her eyebrows at the two of them, her expression otherwise stern.

“Well?” She places her hands on her hips. “We haven’t got all day, have we?”

I watch, mouth covered by my hand to muffle a giggle, as the two men trudge reluctantly towards each other and firmly grasp one others hand. They move them up stiffly up and down once before looking to Ms. Carter for approval. She sighs in exasperation and rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” She scrubs a hand down her face and crosses her arms over her chest. “Let’s get started on this. I don’t want you to put off something this important.”

Steve nods and waves away the security officers who quickly disperse, nodding once to me and Ms. Carter before they’re gone.

“Y’know, I half wanted to work security when I started here.” I muse, watching the men stalk off to their regular postings. “Maybe you guys wouldn’t hate me as much if I did.”

“You think that we hate you?” Steve questions.

I shrug once before nodding. “S’why I left. Everyone was throwing off negative energy and it was all directed at me. With the strength of it, I knew I wouldn’t be missed if I left. On top of that, Tony’s little greeting earlier really just confirmed that my decision was the right one.”

Steve’s expression darkens and I can’t quite read it. He just looks me directly in the eye and nods once before motioning for us to follow him.

I follow after Peggy as both Tony and Steve lead the way back into the facility.

Soon the hallway let’s out into a tunnel of glass, looking out on the expansive fields of the facility. Everything is impossibly green and beautiful. I half wonder if one of the landscapers has powers because whoever keeps up with this has to either be in a hundred places at once or have the greenest thumb in existence.

I amble along behind the small group, taking in the view, shoving my hands in my pockets and not really paying any attention to what’s going on around me. If I keep quiet I’ll be able to leave again soon without too much fuss.

“(Y/N)!” Tony barks, snapping his fingers in front of my nose, effectively stopping me in my tracks.

“What?” I ask, scowling at him.

“We’ve been trying to get your attention for a while now.” Steve says.

“Really?” I raise my eyebrows in surprise. “Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I don’t want to be here. Didn’t realize you’d actually want to talk to me.”

“Is everyone who quits your little company this sarcastic, Tony?” Peggy asks.

“Nope, just this one.”

I roll my eyes. “What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Where did you get the uniform?” Tony asks. “It’s not like you can just make one.”

“I borrowed it from a friend who liberated it from the wash for me.”

“Who was it?”

“Now that would be tattling, Stark, and tattling can get someone fired in a place like this.”

“It’s not like I’d fire them.” Tony grumbles.

“Wouldn’t you though?” Steve questions, cooking an eyebrow accusing lyrics.

Stark isn’t given a chance to defend himself as Natasha enters the corridor.

“I heard the alarm a little while ago, what happened?” She asks, looking between her two colleagues.

“Why don’t you ask your little friend here?” Tony says, making a sweeping gesture towards me.

“Friend? I didn’t know anyone was supposed to be here.” Her brow furrows as she looks past them before her eyes settle on me and a grin stretches her elegant features. “(Y/N)?”

“Hey, Nat,” I greet her with a wave and a bright smile. “Fancy meeting you here!”

She pushes past the men at the head of the group to wrap an arm round my neck and pull me down to her height so she can grind her knuckles into my scalp. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Couldn’t,” I grit out, smile still firmly in place, and try to shove her off of me. “It was kind of a secret.”

“I’m a spy, I can keep a secret.” She says, releasing me and punching me in the arm.

“I know, but this was a really big one!” I say, my voice almost a whine, and rub at my arm.

“This is what that young man meant when he said she liked you?” Peggy asks incredulously.

“What young man?” Tony asks.

“Nunya,” I answer, shit eating grin plastered on my face.

“Last name?”

“Business.”

“Nunya Business…” Tony trails off, his brow furrowing angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me.”

Steve snorts loudly, his mouth covered with his hand to keep his laughter contained and Peggy smacks his arm, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. I laugh outright and Natasha snickers from beside me.

“Was it Jared?” Nat whispers in my ear. I nod in response. “Good kid.”

“He is,” I agree.

“Is that Peggy Carter?”

“Indeed it is,” I nod.

“Isn’t she supposed to be dead?” Natasha asks.

“Yup,”

“Tetrodotoxin B?”

“Right on the nose, Nat.” I laugh. “Figured she was the only one who could fix this whole business with the Accords.”

“Huh,”

“Yeah,” I sigh quietly. Steve, Tony and Peggy begin walking down the hall again and Natasha and I follow after them, keeping enough distance between us that we can talk at a normal level. “Is Steve still looking for Barnes?”

“You think there’s any force in the world that could possibly stop him once he’s put his mind to something?”

“Right, well, he might want to check Romania.”

“Romania?”

“Sounds strange, I know, but I’ve heard rumors from a few Inhumans in the area who have seen someone who looks like the Winter Soldier in the street markets.”

The group goes into the conference room and Natasha and I loiter outside a while longer.

“You sure the information is legitimate?” She questions.

“I doubt my own people would lie about something this serious. Still,” I shrug. “Even if it’s not, it’s a better lead than anything he’s had in almost two years.”

“Sure wouldn’t hurt.” She turns her attention to the group in the room, hunched over a large stack of papers. “You think you’d ever come back?”

“Stark doesn’t want me here.” I say simply.

“That doesn’t answer the question, (Y/N).”

“Let’s worry about the Accords before I make a decision okay?”

“Fair enough.”

--------

Part 2

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

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[proudsmartass-blog1]

Food Gave Me An Anxiety Attack (or, Sh!t I Thought I’d Outgrow)

(I’ve had quite a few of these said to me, which is why I’ve kept my struggles a secret for so long…perhaps even I was guilty of accusing myself of a few of these.)

I’m going to start this off by saying that NONE of this is healthy by any means.  Please please PLEASE don’t take it as such! This is my blog, and my place to be honest and open (in the hopes that it helps someone else out there perhaps not feel so alone, if they are experiencing anything similar…which I hope not, but I do receive private messages here and there, so… :/ )

So, I had an anxiety attack over my breakfast this morning (tea, egg whites, a slice of reduced-fat whole wheat toast, and a little portion of beans).  This isn’t anything new to me, but the severity of it was something I hadn’t experienced in quite a long time. I weighed myself and looked into a full-length mirror beforehand, and it all went to hell after that. I ended up tossing everything in the bin except for my cup of tea, and then I felt guilty because there are starving families out there who would have given anything for that meal that I so ungratefully discarded. 

Food is the Enemy

I’ve had anxiety wrapped around food for the longest time, since I was a child. ( I was diagnosed as a child with Body Dysmorphic Disorder, which (loosely put) is a disorder in which I perceive myself as though I were looking into a funhouse mirror.  I look distorted and deformed to myself, always heavier than I am (even if my clothes are becoming looser on me), and presently I only look at my reflection to apply makeup because I appear unrecognisable to myself. Something changed after my mom passed, and I no longer see ‘me’ when I look at myself.  I don’t know how to explain it…it’s as if there is a stranger in my reflection, or the ghost of my former self…a near echo of who I used to be…but it’s unnerving and terrifying and enraging. )  I was in therapy for a number of years from childhood to my teenage years, but never really made progress.  I also knew that my issues with food were not right, and I was afraid that I would be deemed “bad” for having them. So I never mentioned them. I had severe digestive issues growing up, and I think my anxiety played a part. I always felt better when I was “empty.” 

When I entered high school (and had quit therapy), I began purging. I’d feel anxious and would break down into tears after eating (not even binge-eating,  just regular meals), and realised that forcing myself to throw up would ease the anxiety attacks.  When I had the strength, I would restrict for as long as possible and just not eat.  I would go for a day or two with nothing more than a carrot or two, water, maybe a piece of fruit.  But sometimes that gnawing anxiety would kick in, even with just that.  If I couldn’t purge, I would resort to self-harm to ease the anxiety. ( I’ve quite a few nasty scars on my thigh that I really want to cover up with a Day of the Dead tattoo, or something along that theme, but I just haven’t brought myself to do it yet. I don’t want to explain what the lines along my thigh are to the artist. )  I was an active member on a few pro-ED online community boards, which are no longer running (I actually looked them up a short while ago, just to see how the people I used to chat with are getting on…sadly, a couple of them have taken their own lives, I’ve come to learn). A good majority have recovered from their eating disorders. I’m beyond happy for them!

I purged and restricted on-and-off for nearly twenty years, and I absolutely feel the effects of my actions on my health now. Again, this is NOT healthy behaviour…do not do this!

Every Body

I’m the first person to say to someone that there are no set standards for health or beauty, and there is no one perfect body weight, but I’m the last person to actually listen to myself. 

I have hypothyroidism (”hippo-thyroidism” as I call it). This makes losing weight extremely difficult for me, causes me to have a lack of energy (but also not eating properly is not helping matters), slow metabolism, insomnia, poor attention span, etc. I’ve been on medication for over ten years now, but the medication has not regulated my weight. In fact, I swear the pills have slowly and gradually put weight on me.  I stopped taking them abruptly a year ago, and lost nearly 20lbs! (Again, DO NOT DO THIS….not healthy!)  My TSH levels in my most recent blood test were horrendous, and I began to feel as though I were having hot flashes, so I had to go back on the pills, but I don’t take them the way that I’m supposed to. I’m terrified. I’ve already gained a couple of pounds back that I’d lost by going off of them.

I do work out at the gym, but I can only do so much before I start to feel light-headed or before a migraine begins to set in (again, from poor diet…will discuss in next portion).  I tone up from the cardio and weights that I do, but I can never seem to get below a certain weight. I hover. It’s not a horrible weight, but I could be 10-15lbs lighter. I will always hold that over my head as a failure, even if it’s medically beyond my control. Realistically, though, if I were to get myself down to 100lbs, I could see myself still feeling the same way.  I will never feel content.

Strange Relationship

My current relationship with food is a complicated one.  There is still that anxiety of having lost control of myself at times (even if I’ve only eaten a salad, after two days of not eating or two days of consuming no more than 600-700 calories).  I try to not use calorie counting apps because I tend to use them for negative reasons…instead of aiming to eat at least 1000 calories per day, I’d feel like a failure if I went over 800.  The app warning me that this behaviour is unhealthy and that I might have an eating disorder became a fucked up form of comfort.

But then I have some days where I pay my intake no mind and just enjoy myself.  A slice of pizza with no guilt, or some pasta, or a nice bowl of veggies with brown rice. 

Then I have my moments like this morning, where I have a panic attack before I’ve even eaten and just looking at a plate of food brings on a gag reflex.  (I didn’t eat dinner last night, had a small plate of salad for lunch, and indulged in a Pot Noodle for breakfast…the Pot Noodle warranted my not needing to eat dinner). 

Which brings me to the pic that I started this entry with…if anyone were to just look at me, they would never guess that this is going on! I (to me) am overweight, and could definitely stand to lose 20-30lbs. I’d go 50lbs, but I’d be dead. I range from a size 8-12 in pants (UK & USA sizes…USA sizes are tricky, depending on where you shop). When I stand next to a dear friend of mine, whom I view as stunningly beautiful, I swear that we are the same body size and shape.  She is 54lbs heavier than I am (she weighed herself with me to prove a point to me).  She looks at me as though I am utterly insane and tries to understand, but I’m ecstatic that she doesn’t.

This is Body Dysmorphic Disorder. 

**A note on the USA Mental Healthcare System**

I have acknowledged that I should attempt therapy for this again, since the anxiety attacks and distorted/unrecognisable reflection seem to have amplified 20x since my mother’s death.

After calling around to seven centers…five are not accepting new patients, and the other two have wait lists of up to 3-5 months for the intake and enrollment process. Not to mention the cost…my copayments, not including medication, if they wanted to start me on any, would be upwards of $300 per month. 

As I’ve said, this country treats mental healthcare as if it were a luxury item. And that is disgusting. 

So here is my online confessional.  I might be damned to my own personal hell, but perhaps my words will help someone else? You are not alone, there is nothing fucked up or wrong or ugly about you. Please get help, if it is available to you!

Don’t end up like me.  Don’t cry over a plate of egg whites & beans because you gained a pound.

[falling-stars-and-open-scars]

An Introduction &Mental Clusterf*ck

06/21/20

Hiya Tumblr, how’s it goin? I’ve been meaning to write sooner, but never seem to really get the time/chance to. If you’ve recently started following me, welcome! I’m sorry we had to find each other like this, but it is also nice to know that we’re not alone. 

I suppose I should do a bit of an introduction: (Going to go ahead and put Trigger Warning here out of respect because you never know what might be triggering to someone so best to cover all bases) 

Name: I’ll go by Star, I guess

Age: 31 (I feel a bit like a creep being on this platform as it’s not really aimed at my demographic, but at the same time, I feel like I can relate more to the posts/memes/people here than I can on other platforms)

Location: USA, Central US to be more specific without giving too much away

Conditions/Ailments: Well, this is a bit tricky as I’ve never been truly professionally diagnosed with anything. I have some type of depression (bi-polar II disorder or something similar to that). I have engaged in self injurious behavior from the time I was 13 years old with my most serious occurrence at age 28/29 being ruled as an attempt. Up until October of 2019, I had been clean from SI/SH for a full year -- even with my parents getting an ugly divorce after 30 years of marriage and being placed in the middle of that ugliness. I relapsed because of an argument with my best friend over a guy she was dating at the time, which lead her to say “You don’t care about me!”...when, in therapy, I had to list the reasons why I would/should stay clean.....guess who was my number 1 reason? Yeah, her. So for her to say that I don’t care when my whole reason for not going deeper into the dark rabbit hole that is depression and SI/SH.....yeah, it hurt a lot. But, thankfully, we’ve made up and she’s no longer dating that idiot and I have been clean. Another “condition” I have would be an eating disorder. It’s kinda hard to really put a label on it, but if I had to I would say I have BED and am developing ANA-like behaviors. In the past, like when I was 12-13 years old, I looked into Ana and Mia. I even purged a few times as I got older (16-18 years old), but stopped because I had just gotten braces/gotten braces off/had a surgical procedure done where they break and reset my jaw to fix my overbite [called a Class II Skeletal Malocclusion] and didn’t want the stomach acid to ruin my teeth that I had just spent all this time getting fixed. I have always been about 20 pounds heavier than girls in my age group. If they were 100 pounds, I was 120; if they were 130, I was 150. This went on for some time until my “father” (let’s be real, he’s a sperm donor and nothing more) went to prison for some stupid sh*t that he knew better than to do (he is not mentally well and has a lot of delusions about reality and perspective). Anyway, while he was away, I ballooned up and also got a little bit of PTSD because of police being involved -- for a few years, anytime I heard sirens or saw police lights, I would break down and cry. Since then, I’ve just continued to gain and gain and gain. 

Weight: My hw was 290 around December 27th 2019. I weighed myself yesterday and I am down to 271. My goal is to be at least 200 by the end of the year. I have been restricting (going from originally 1,500 to 1,200 to 1,000 per day), I have fasted (started doing it around January/February but stopped; my fasts were usually only 16-18 hours and I would only have liquids during that time -- water, tea, or zero calorie drinks like Powerade if I was feeling really bad). I know that’s not really enough to claim that I’m Ana, however, I do get anxiety when I eat something and do not know how many calories something has. For example, my friend wanted to get ice cream a few weeks ago and I legitimately wanted to cry in frustration because I couldn’t get an accurate calorie count for the item I wanted and wanted to cancel because I didn’t want to splurge or “ruin any progress” I had made. I count calories a lot with LoseIt and based my day off of “well, were you good and stayed at or below limit or did you go over”/”did you have a good day or were you being bad?”. It gets to a point to where my boyfriend will offer me a sip of regular Coke and I say “No, it has calories”. A literal sip....tiniest bit of ingestion...and I avoid it like the plague. 

Stats: Height = 5 foot 6, Weight = 271 (currently), Body Type = ?I dunno, I used to be kind of an hourglass as a teen so....maybe hourglass?

Struggles: Weight, obviously. I would love to be under 200, I would love to be 160 like my friend and get the compliments that she gets all the f*cking time. The girl can post a picture of her and her dog and everyone is commenting about how beautiful she is....like, guys, it’s not about her, she’s literally trying to show you her dog but all you thirsty b*tches see is her and think that if you compliment her enough times she just might say hello to you. That’s not to say that my friend is not pretty; she is pretty. It’s just the fact that she’s had people falling over themselves trying to compliment her and shower her with attention and for what? Because she simply exists in the size that she is. The same people/friends that we have will comment on how drop dead beautiful she is but will then share a meme fat shaming someone else and I’m like “gee guys, you DO realize that I’m bigger than the girl in the meme that you’re fat shaming so.....you can understand why I feel like you think I’m disgusting, right???” I’ve always been the fat funny friend. I’ve never been attractive to anyone my age, except my boyfriend, and he had even stated early on that I’m “cute” at best...has said that I’m not considered sexy and that if I lost over 100 pounds then I would be able to be a model. My friend has told me if I ever got to her weight, 160 or less, that I would “look sick”. I don’t care if I “look” sick, I DO care about not having to go to a special store JUST to buy clothes. I DO care about not having to worry about what other people think if I have a piece of cake at a birthday celebration or if I have an extra spoonful of potatoes at a family BBQ. I DO care about hearing people talk about my weight behind my back. I DO care about not being able to fit into a bathtub, or movie theater seats, or most chairs without it being a tight fit. I DO care about getting into/out of a car and it not shake from my movement. I DO care about how people judge me by my size. I DO care that I don’t get any compliments. I DO care that I’m not attractive to people my own age, but older men (50s and 60s) dig me. I DO care that I’m only attractive to certain groups of people with a “fat white girl” fetish. I DO care that I am NOT normal. I DO care that, despite being healthy overall, I’m constantly worried that a doctor or nurse will say something about my weight. I care....it may not seem like it....because I’m big....but I do care. 

Goals: Get to 200 by the end of this year. That is my biggest goal. If, for some reason, I do not meet that goal, my secondary goal will be get to 240. As long as I don’t go back up to 290........as long as I keep losing.....I’ll have to take the small victories where I can. I also want to stay clean from SI/SH. It’s been difficult with my parents divorce. It’s been difficult with school/work/trying to balance that out. It’s been difficult because I think I’ve been slipping into a depressive episode recently. I’m tired all the time, don’t sleep well, work like a dog all the time; every instance of self-care (brushing my teeth, taking a shower, shaving, etc.) seems like a chore that I’d rather just ignore. I don’t really want to do anything other than stay in bed and shut out the world. I crave those depression naps/sleeps I used to take when I was younger (wake up, maybe eat something, immediately go to bed, sleep for 3 hours, eat again, sleep for another 3 hours, stay up until it’s time to sleep again; getting almost 10-12 hours of sleep per day). I think I’m starting to slip again, but as long as I resist it, things should be okay. Maybe I’ll bounce back soon.....

Family dinner tonight, BBQ. I’m not counting or restricting today; even though I probably should. I’m not sure how I’ll burn it off. I work tomorrow and, can on average, burn 1,500. But that won’t help me today, will it? It’ll be around 2 or 3pm and probably last until 6pm....which gives me 3 hours to burn it off before a 9pm bedtime (I’m old and need my sleep). Problem is, boyfriend is going to be with me the whole time, so it’s not like I can say “Honey, let’s do Ring Fit for 3 hours!” without throwing red flags up, especially since I can only do Ring Fit for about 20 minutes at a time. I could just take it as a L today and try to work extra hard during the week.....maybe? We’ll see. 

Thanks for stopping by and reading this long a$$ mental clusterf*ck of an introduction! Be good. <3 You are valued and cared for. Please drink some water. <3 Headpats to you! <3 

Until Next Time.....

[ohh-kaye]

I just finished reading “The Time in Between: A Memoir of Hunger and Hope” by Nancy Tucker.

This is taken from my review on Goodreads. (I say review but it’s mostly me ranting and dot points of notes).

The cover’s gorgeous and I’ll be the first to admit that I picked this up from a sale bin because my favourite colour was the cover.

Please don’t judge me.

I cannot recommend this book enough. This is probably one of the best books I've read because there's so much emotion in it and so much pain and it hurt... a lot.

I just finished reading this and it's been helping me contemplate on my actions and my feelings and everything that's wrong with me.

If you know me (which I hope you don't because lol now I'm self-conscious), you'll know that I reallyreallyreallylreaaaally hate myself.

So much of how I remember being a kid and a teenager was very much weight-related. Specifically how fat I was.  And this isn't me being conceited and being like "Wow I was so fat. Pity me. Poor me". Like no. I was actually reaaalllly overweight since I was 10. And I remember this because it was my little brother's kindergarten graduation (do all schools have this? it seems dumb) and we went to visit my relatives and I remember wearing this fitting blue green top and my auntie coming up to me and putting her hand on my stomach and saying "Don't get any fatter than this. This is the right weight for you". She may have been joking and I kind of laughed it off because I was 10, what was I supposed to say to that? Was I uncomfortable? Yes. Definitely. Even though I'm aware that this all clicked when I was 10, I've always had a pretty unhealthy relationship with food even younger than that. At meal times my parents would always have a competition on who ate the most. After every meal, we (me and my brother) had to go up to our parents and hold up our shirts to reveal our food babies and have our mom feel it to see who was fuller. And another game was who ate the most wouldn't be having an afternoon nap. So my brother and I were always the last people on the table because we would eat so much because we didn't want naptimes. Looking back, it's a pretty sick game. I thought it was fun back then and I'm probably making excuses for it but it was a way for my parents to make us eat. I don't know.

I think that fiasco when I was 10 was the earliest moment I remember being so conscious about my weight and I started being really unhealthy about it. Unlike Nancy who had anorexia and then bulimia, I think I was mostly binge eating. I'm not diagnosed with an ED because I do have this mentality that no one will believe me because I'm not sick enough. And that's something that Nancy touches on the book. Several times throughout the book (at least this was my interpretation of it) was not being skinny enough to be admitted to an Inpatient Unit. I understand that she would've refused to be admitted but it was glaringly obvious she was getting sicker, and the scales may not have shown that because she had so many tricks to challenge the scale, but SHE'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU AND SHE'S NOT GETTING BETTER. PLEASE HELP HER.

Many times in the book I literally had to stop and close the book and take deep breaths because it would be too close to my heart and everything she says about herself I can myself saying to me. Reading it and thinking "You always say this about yourself. Can't you see how badly you're hurting yourself right now?".

I remember my first binge; eating 3 cans of sardines *after our actual lunch* and being so incredibly full that I sat next to the refrigerator on the floor because I couldn't get up because my tummy hurt. I don't know why I'm laughing at myself right now.

By the time high school came around, the weight increased a lot and I was bullied for it which was soooo much fun. It's great being made fun of when you're fat. When a classmate yells out "Sort yourselves by weight" during a group activity and the whole class looks at you. When your 'friends' refuse to pull you up in a pick up truck because you were apparently "too heavy to lift" (which btw I wasn't at my heaviest then) and so you end up sitting at the front with your choir teacher and everyone is having heaps of fun at the back. When yo buy snacks and they look at you like "Really??".

I think it got worse when I did Taekwondo. Our instructor was always at the back for being fat. I don't remember a day of showing to practice and him not commenting on it and how I needed to work harder to be smaller. I'm making another excuse but you know, it's reasonable that he wanted me to lose weight because you don't really have fat people doing tournaments. There was a particularly horrible experience I had where I was part of the regional team and we had to travel to another city for regionals and he insisted that I go with them and participate because "You'll definitely lose enough weight to compete if you get into training harder". So I did my best even though I didn't want to go because I know I'd lose and let the team down. The tournament day arrived and we needed to be weighed on the day in front of everyone so they could sort us into weight divisions and I went over the maximum weight needed to compete. And he looked at me so disappointingly and ushered me back to the bleachers. I spent 3 days with the whole team and I had to sit the competition out. I  had to sit by myself watching the team compete. And it sucked because I knew this was because I was too fat. When we returned home, I think I quit. I gave the excuse of "I needed to focus on my studies. I'll come back next summer". And I did. But I'll get to that.

That was the lowest point for me emotionally because at the time I had no friends and I couldn't even enjoy Taekwondo. That was also the fattest I was. I don't know how it was humanly possible for me to be active in sports and still so very hugeeee. *sigh*

A lot of what exacerbated this obsession with my weight was definitely because of my family. I know this is terrible that it sounds like I'm putting the blame on them and although they played a part, I am still very much responsible for my behaviours and everything is my fault.

My family is complicated. My mom and aunts and uncles and grandmother fought a lot and I didn't see any of them for 6-7 years. The last they saw me was as a baby or 7 years old. And when one of my uncles died, they were all forced to see other again and reunite as a family. I didn't realise how big of a family I had until everyone was together and it felt great being around them.

One thing that i didn't like was their preoccupation of my weight. The first time auntie saw me after yeaaaars was "Ang taba mo na!" (You're so fat now!) ((it sounds more endearing in Tagalog)). And my other uncle joked "Pinabayaan ka yata sa kusina" (It seems like you were left alone in the kitchen). And every single one of them compared me to my cousin who was the same age as me and how she was skinnier and smarter and absolutely so much better than me.

When we went to Australia the next year, I finally met this cousin after last seeing each other when we were 7. And she was so thin to me (she was healthy btw). I thought she looked perfect. And the self-loathing and self-harming came shortly after that.

I don't remember not eating. It's all fuzzy. But I remember coming home after that trip and hating myself so much and slowly the weight started to melt away. I wasn't in Taekwondo anymore but I remember being at my lowest weight months down the line. (Which btw my 'friend' commented on and said "You're getting smaller. I'm proud of you".) Did this weight loss have to come at such a horrible and toxic expense? I'm going to make a tumblr post expanding on this because I wasn't a good person around this time and I need to talk about it.

I returned to Taekwondo that summer and was significantly smaller than the last time they saw and I received so many positive comments on it. And it made me feel a temporary happiness. And the realisation that it was only in weight loss that I became important and special. And I was angry at that because WHY IS IT THAT I HAD TO BE SKINNY FOR YOU PEOPLE TO LIKE MEEE??? And I quit again after that summer and I never went back because I couldn't deal with being judged by the very people I found solace in.

Still after losing the weight, I wasn't skinny. I was more chubby now. But as the years went, I regained all that I lost and more. Became massively sad throughout the process. And moved to a different country and became even more sad. Hi. I'm depressed I think.! I need to see someone.

Even to this day, my family and relatives always comment about it when they see me. About how fat I was or how I needed to eat less or how smaller I'm getting. Last year I started counting my calories and has a drastic weight loss following that and now I'm at a healthy BMI but I'm still so incredibly disgusted at myself. It's no longer the body that's wrong. It's my mind that needs fixing.

HOLY SHIT.

I HAVEN'T TALKED ABOUT THE BOOK YET.

CAN YOU SEE HOW PASSIONATE I AM ABOUT THIS? HOW REFLECTIVE I BECAME AFTER READING THIS BOOK?

OKAY NOTEEESSSS

I love the preface Nancy gives at the beginning where she warns the readers that she urges you not to do what she did but if you treated this book as a bible then no one can stop you. I appreciate that this was mentioned early on because it did give me a moment to think it over and if I should read it. Will it help me? Am I going into this just wanting to understanding the development of ED's? I decided that the reason I'm drawn to these topics is because I'm finding it very difficult to cope with what I'm feeling and reading other people's experiences make me feel less alone. And this book achieved that. After reading it, I know I won't be subjecting myself to what Nancy went through and hopefully I may one day get to a point where I can be recovered.

Another one of the things I had flagged is the relationship Nancy had with her family and the dialogue about food that they would have when she was little or the imposition of control she would always be placed in factors in to why she developed an ED and I get it. As I mentioned in my rant-y bit at the beginning. Being exposed to unhealthy habits with foods when I was younger made me have the behaviours I have now, unfortunately.

A pretty recurrent theme throughout is the desire to being 'thin' and the belief that one day JUST ONE DAY people will like me when I'm skinny. I recoil anytime this is mentioned because the voice I have in my head is always yelling this at me. Particularly worse during bad days where I would look at a mirror and BOOM thoughts are suffocating me. It's not fun. And I hate it. I hate having to think this and it's almost like and unreachable goal. And what's sick is that anytime I shrunk, people notice and they smile with pride. It affirms this idea that people WILL like me. I just need to be a stick.

There's one quote in the book that I love because of how painful it is: "That's funny. I don't have a mental illness. So why am I being crushed?".

Side note: I love the different formats the book has (the play/ script and the Do's and Don'ts. It's a change that I like.

Page 98: Theory Me. Read it and this is exactly how my mind is working.

"I can't". This broke me. I was crying during my shift in hospital while I was reading this in darkness. It was like I get it. I wanted so much to climb into the pages and say "I KNOW YOU CAN'T. I UNDERSTAND. AND I'M SORRY YOU'RE HURTING. I'M SORRY.".

UUUUUUUU I love this book. It's so powerful and emotional and so very very painful. I could literally feel the defeat and surrender in her voice when she says "I'll eat" after being so done with starvation.

Side note: I bookmarked the chapter "Emerald" just because my birthstone is emerald and I feel very acknowledged that my birthstone is a chapter. hahaha.

I smiled like an idiot when Nancy was finally able to find friends who understood her and didn't judge her when she finally told them about her anorexia. I think one of her biggest downfall was not having a good support system especially with her friends. They probably didn't know how to approach the subject of anorexia that's why I'm so happy that there's so much awareness about the topic. Eating disorders suck and I don't people to ever have to think of eating as an option or a want. We need to eat to sustain our bodies.

Her letter to her Anorexia made me cry too. It's gross seeing me in tears and in darkness clutching onto this book in the hospital ward while I looking after my sleeping patient.

And finally, my last point. This also made me disappear into a puddle of tears. The last chapter with her thank you's and apologies.  The one about her Mum. </3

I love this book. It's a masterpiece and captures the very thoughts I have in head. Even though I'm not diagnosed with anything but I know I have a serious problem with food, a lot of what I read in the book seems as though it's been plucked from my brain and put into pages.

This was a pretty substantial read and I finished this in 2 days. I know that the time span is a week and a half but I read the first half on my night duty last week and finished it this morning. So technically it was 2 days (or 20 hours? because my shifts are 10 hours each).

I think I feel a little better. The demons in my head are still yelling at me but not as loud.