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Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
***
Joined
Jul 23, 2014
Messages
2,909
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Affinity
by Xyantha Reborn


Flashes from the Past

It was so soft. But not soft like her teddy bears. It wasn’t…fluffy. Taking her finger, she poked lightly. A deep chuckle answered the curious touch. Viv giggled as dappled amusement danced about her, flittering teasingly against her skin.

“Don’t encourage her!” Mama scolded. She had just walked in from the kitchen, setting food on the table. She turned, walking towards them.

Hands lifted her under her arms, and Viv felt herself hanging for a moment before being deposited gently to the floor, hiking a shoulder at the intrusion of Mama’s displeasure. It felt rough and stinging, like when she washed her with soap too hard when she had a cut.

“Its fine, Flo. She’s just a kid, and she’s figuring stuff out,” Uncle Ray rumbled. Amusement still hovered around him, but the flitting had suddenly stilled.

Viv loved how his voice made his chest and tummy shake. She glanced to her mother, noting how a frown had spread over her face. Uh oh, Mama’s mad.

“It isn’t normal,” Mama said, crossing her arms over her chest the way she did just before she sent her to bed. “She’s always wanting to touch people’s belly, staring at fat folk.”

A wave of stinging disgust struck Viv, confusing her for a moment. That was bad? Big tummies were soft and nice...

“Don’t talk like that in front of her, Flo!” Uncle Ray snapped. “Children understand more than they let on.”

Mama stared down at him, making Viv shiver in anxiety. “Fat is disgusting, Ray. If we allow her to continue…she might get fat like you someday.”

“Is that so.” The amusement dissipated as a wave of…something rolled off her Uncle. Something jagged and sharp and hurting. The curling tendrils brushed at Viv’s arm, making her start to cry. Immediately, the tendrils snapped back, though they curled threateningly behind some sort of barrier. “Don’t cry, Viv!” Uncle Ray smiled. “It’s ok.” He patted her head softly. “You hungry?”

Nodding, Viv raised her arms. She was swooped up and deposited at the table.

“Don’t eat to much,” Mama said, leaning down and looking her in the eyes. “We wouldn’t want to get fat, would we?”

Viv didn’t understand…but it felt as if she was being squeezed in a vice. Turning her head, she nodded frantically, sighing in relief as the pressure released.

“Good girl. You too, Ray."

Uncle Ray frowned, sitting down. When Mama had finished putting food in his plate, Viv noticed it was more like a kids portion that an adult’s portion. She held her fork tightly, eyes darting as those tendrils snaked inward, stinging him.

*~*~*

“Viv was great at daycare today!” the ugly old woman said as she patted Viv’s head.

“I’m glad,” Mama said, and they kept talking.

Bored, Viv glanced over her shoulder and found Thomas looking at her. So she stuck her tongue out. He did it back and she grinned. Suddenly, she focused.

“I didn’t want to bring it up,” the old woman said in a whisper. “But I just wanted you to know that Viv has a ‘boyfriend’.”

“Oh?” Mama said, looking down at her.

“The only reason I mention it is that she just seems attached, and I like to let the parents know. Thomas is a real person, not an imaginary friend!” her babysitter laughed. “She is quite taken with him. Shares all her snacks and pokes his tummy! It’s pretty cute.

Vivian felt frost creep from her mother, and tried to tug her fingers from her grasp.

Holding her tighter, Mama did that not-smile she always did when she was mad, her grip tightening on her fingers until that stinging cold made her hand go numb.

Suddenly fearful, Viv tried to distract her by talking about all the fun stuff they had done today.

Mama waited until she was quiet, then said, “So I hear you like Thomas. Why do you like Thomas?”

“He’s nice?” Viv replied, half questioning. She looked down at her doll, but felt the frost go colder. Mama was getting more angry.

“That’s good,” she said. “But you shouldn’t share your snacks with him, and you shouldn’t like him too much.”

“Why?”

“Because he is fat. Fat is bad.”

*~*~*

“Wanna play?” Jess was standing in front of her, holding the prettiest pink ball Viv had ever seen.

She didn’t really like Jess, but she always had the nicest toys…She fidgeted, scuffing her worn shoe toe on the ground. “I guess,” she said at last.

A wave of gloating, suffocating satisfaction billowed out of her. “Ok!” Jess ran to the end of the driveway, bouncing the ball.

Trotting along behind, Vivia tried not to be too jealous that Jess had pretty pink and black shoes, and nice bright purple pants with pink flowers on them. Her shirt had Cinderella on it, too, Viv noticed with a sigh. And her pony tail was so pretty and nice…

If she looked down at herself, Viv would have seen a pair of dirty Velcro shoes, and old faded pants with a hole in the knee. Her shirt used to be white. Mama said they couldn’t afford silly things like hair ties and bows, so her straggly brown hair fell into her face and eyes.

“So, here is the game. I am a princess and you are going to be my servant. I’m going to tell you what to do, and when I get mad I’m going to throw this ball, and you have to go get it. Ok?” Jess said, sounding bossy as usual.

It always felt like she couldn’t breathe right – Jess seemed to push all the air away from her. Viv nodded, eyeing that pretty ball. “Yeah.”

It was a stupid game. Jess had no imagination, and kept throwing the ball into the street every time Viv did something the princess didn’t like. If Mama saw her going on the street she’d get a smack, but this was the only time she ever got to play with toys.

One particularly energetic throw put the soaring pink ball into a backyard.

“You’re gonna be in trouble,” Viv gasped, turning to face her.

Jess responded with a toss of her hair. “Nu uh! You are my servant, you have to go get it!”

“I don’t wanna,” Viv protested, shaking her head and darting for her door.

“If you don’t get my ball I will never, ever, ever let you play with my toys ever again Viv!”

Chancing a glance at her, Viv realized she was serious. It took a long moment to come to the inevitable conclusion. Darting a glance up and down the street, she ran to the gate of the big wooden fence and let herself in. The backyard was so nice – flowers and pretty things were everywhere. The grass even seemed greener, somehow.

Sneaking forward, Viv glanced left and right. The ball was bright enough that it didn’t take long to find. Snatching it, she turned and bolted for the gate, but let out a muffled shriek of surprise as her eyes met that of a boy, sitting on a big white chair and eating ice cream.

Big eyes met hers, and he swallowed his ice cream. Both hesitated for a long moment, and Viv was on the verge of dashing back out when the boy spoke up. “Hi…Want some ice cream?” he asked shyly. “You can have the rest, if you want.”

“Uh,” Viv responded intelligently, distracted. Big pulses of glowing contentment were coming off him in waves. That drew her forward, and she found herself at the edge of the table, looking at him.

“I’m Brad,” he said, waving.

“Viv. I mean Vivian,” she said. Brad had a big milk mustache, and big brown eyes. He was the nicest looking boy she had ever seen, she decided.

Brad grinned with mischief. “Want some? It’s chocolate chip!”

Although the site and smell made her drool, Viv shook her head. “Uh uhn, I ate.”

“Bradly!” A voice said sharply. “Did you eat all of that yourself?”

The pulses of contentment broke off, and a dark fogginess rose up. “Um, no, Mom!” Brad said quickly, casting her the secret look that adults didn’t know. The secret look that said ‘us against them, ya?’. “I was sharing with my new friend, Vivian!”

Vivia turned her eyes to the adult, making eye contact. They liked that. “Hi, thank you very for letting me have ice cream,” she said.

Her act seemed to please the woman, for she patted Brad’s head and smiled. “Just remember,” she said, pinching his cheek lightly. “You don’t want to eat too much or you will get fat.” She walked back inside.

A familiar and scary tentacle rose out of that fog. Vivia shuddered away from it.

Brad’s round and frowning face turned towards her. “What’s fat mean?” he demanded in a half whisper.

Viv shrugged helplessly. “All I know is the parents say its really bad. It’s like when you get a big belly.”

Her new friend protruded his lower lip and stared down at his pudgy stomach. “Do you think I am fat?” he asked anxiously.

His tummy wasn’t nearly as big as Uncle Ray’s. “No, I don’t think so.”

He grinned, and the tentacle slid back into nothingness. “That’s good, because I really like icecream.”

Viv felt herself grinning back. “You could eat it all and say I did it,” she suddenly giggled. The expression on his face made her giggle harder.

“You’re the best ever!” he said, scooping up a big mouthful so that his cheeks bulged.

“I havta go,” she said, hefting the pink ball in explanation. “Bye!”
 
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Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
***
Joined
Jul 23, 2014
Messages
2,909
Location
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Noodle-licious

Jory. Enjoys sports, working out. Six foot two, 185lbs.

Next. A message to her inbox popped up. ‘Hey gorgous, wanna get together for some hot sex?’ Not if you can’t spell gorgeous…She clicked the X.

Cody. Digs surfing, hitting bars, and chilling. Five foot eight, 165 lbs. Next.

Tanner. Tanner, really? Ok. And what does Tanner enjoy? Golfing, Katy Perry, and movies. 142lbs. Boring.

Scrolling through the rest of the profiles, Viv worried at her lower lip. Their matching algorithms sucked. But she couldn’t blame any one site in particular – they all sucked. And it wasn’t the site’s fault that all the bottom feeders of man kind seemed to flock to dating websites.

Hanging her head in her hands, she sipped at her water, blowing on the surface to create ripples. Part of her didn’t even understand why she was trying again. No relationship had ever worked out for her; it was time to give up and become asexual. A ding made her raise her head.

Hi. You probably get pinged all the time, so I get it if you don’t respond. I’m not creeping on you or anything, but the site seemed to think you’d be a good match so I thought I’d say hi and see if you were interested in talking.

The first part of the message made her wrinkle her nose. Don’t be desperate. The second part made her cock her head, considering. Alright; impress me. ;p

The response took a moment in coming. Ha, I don’t know if I can do that. Name is Trevor, I work at RBC as a business analyst.

Hey – you have a job, it’s more than a lot of guys here have!

That…just makes me feel sad,
Trevor responded.

No sad face emoji followed, and a smile tugged her lips. Agreed! What do you do for fun?

Ha – does eating qualify?


Immediately, Viv felt a jolt, hands hovering over her keyboard. Profile pic, profile pic!

Just kidding…I love hiking, as an outdoor thing. Preferably with camping, if I can manage it…Umm…inside I love reading. You?

The profile picture was blank. Viv cursed. Where’s your pic? She asked innocently. I actually love hiking myself, and reading too.

Is it because of the eating comment?


Self conscious…he probably was at least mildly chunky. I actually enjoy eating myself…although I suck at cooking so I tend to eat out often.

For a long, tense moment, Viv stared at the screen…no more typing came. Just as she was about to close the screen with a sigh, a message popped up.

…It’s up…

Flicking it open, Viv rocked back with a blush. It wasn’t a posed picture, and wasn’t designed to flatter. A mop of almost platinum blonde hair topped a round face, which was turned to the right and was giving the camera holder the long suffering look that all those who hate pictures adopt. Brilliant blue eyes met hers, surrounded by the lightest fringe of blonde.

Viv would have liked to have said that she was not shallow…but unfortunately she was just as shallow as all her other friends, just in a different physical demographic. Eyeing that rounded face, she pronounced the first, superficial judgement.

Wow! Super cute!

Ha.

So…tell me more!

Really? Most shut down the conversation by now…

Come on, don’t be like that.

Fine. But I really don’t know what to say…


Grinning, Viv hooked her chair closer to her desk. You said you liked hiking…where have you been?

Their conversation flowed back and forth lightly. Finally, after a long moment of mutual silence, a message popped up.

Look. I don’t want to lead you on and I’ve had some shit dates in the past. Aren’t you going to ask me my weight?

Now was the time. Either walk away or pursue. He was actually…interesting. He actually came across like a real person. She could have been coquettish and asked why he asked that, but games like that had long since lost their flavour. He was fat, and he thought his weight was going to turn her off.

How about I guess it when we go for Ramen next Saturday?

Really? Wow, ok. Ramen, I mean. But…I’m three hundred and ten pounds
, the message dinged.

There should have been nothing sexy about numbers…and yet, Viv felt her panties dampen. It wasn’t the number themselves, or even the weight they represented. It was just the idea that he was that much larger than life. That he took up so much more physical space than she did. Awwww, you’re no fun! I was supposed to guess! Ok, so you know the Shangri-La hotel? There is a noodle bar right beside it. Momofuko…let’s meet there at 7pm. Reservation under ‘Hiking fanatics’.

K.


I gotta run…send me an email or something, or else I’ll see you Sunday!


*~*~*


Viv twisted her head around, feeling her bob sway slightly. Her nervousness about meeting Trevor had manifested in a mani-pedi, a new haircut, and a full wax. Just in case. It was good to be prepared. The long table she was seated at faced the door, and she fiddled with the napkin as a gorgeous heavyset blonde meandered in, round cheeks slightly red.

“Trevor?” She asked, trying to raise her voice slightly.

He probably hadn’t heard her over the din, but saw her stand and look at him. One hand smoothed the front of his shirt nervously, unconsciously tugging at it to make sure he was covered. Slowly, he took a step, then seemed to give a shrug and walked forward normally.

“Vivian?” He asked, round cheeks flushed.

She stared at him, floored. “You have an Australian accent!” She blurted. The hottest accent in the entire world!

Those sexy cheeks rounded as he smiled. “It’s the one redeeming quality I have,” he gave a self depreciating chuckle that caused his wide middle to bounce lightly.

No darkness teased at her, no stinging tentacles of self hatred lashed at her, or at him. Shivering in delight, she patted the bench beside her as she resumed her seat. “I would have guessed two ninety.”

For a moment, he frowned as a look of confusion crossed his handsome face. Realizing what she meant, he gave a small grin as he settled himself beside her. The bench shifted under his weight. “Aren’t dates usually face to face across the table?”

Raising her gaze to meet his, she smiled slowly. “How would we exchange flirtatious touches and feed each other bits of food like that?”

When he grinned, his cheeks bunched up and his eyes crinkled. “Well then, let’s order, shall we?” He turned his attention to the menu in front of him.

It was not his expression, or his body language that alerted her, but rather a sting that made her roll her shoulder. Wincing, she rubbed at it lightly. She shifted closer so that her black legging encased thigh pressed against the heavy material of his denim. A light inhale answered her as her upper body swayed closer to read from the same menu, rather than the one sitting before her. “See anything you like?”

His belly wobbled lightly as he shifted, raising his electric blue gaze to hers. “Yeah.”

Purposefully misinterpreting him, she lightly tapped his thick middle with the back of her hand. “Naughty. That’s for dessert, and you cannot have dessert without dinner.”

A half grin met hers even as his wide cheeks flushed. “Look, Vivian…”

That prickle was back. “If you say you are on a diet I’m going home,” she sighed, dropping her chin into her hand as she gazed at him solemnly. “You don’t get a body like yours without loving food. You send me your pic and even told me your weight before you got here – if I didn’t think you were hot as shit I wouldn’t be here. Don’t make this weird.”

His plump lips quivered as they silently repeated the phrases ‘hot as shit’ and ‘don’t make this weird’. Trevor’s expression slowly stilled and he leaned forward. “I think you are crazy.” The light quivers of painful stings were becoming even more muted. Good.

Lifting her chin, Viv sniffed. “I think you quite like crazy.” She followed this pronouncement with a light finger circling his deep navel. “That wont help,” she added as his stomach shifted a quarter of an inch as he tried to suck in. “Just be you, Trevor. Please. Talk to me in that sexy accent, lets talk hiking, and let’s eat.”

“And if being me is ordering half the appetizers on the menu before I even get to the main course?” His expression might be unreadable, but his body pulsed with excitement that heated her from the inside.

“Then I guess I’d have to show my appreciation for a real man with a real appetite,” she purred, smiling as the sting completely faded.
 
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Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
***
Joined
Jul 23, 2014
Messages
2,909
Location
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Regrets and Despair

Fuck men. All of them! Especially the fat ones. That shame could never be expunged, and she was goddamn tired of being an emotional sponge for their bullshit.

And fuck Brad especially. The man had been glaring up a storm, shooting little bolts of lightening into her spine from across the gym floor for nearly two weeks. After Trevor broke up with her over the winter, she had quit her job and become a gym and yoga instructor. Nothing like a little self flagellation to instill discipline. And after ‘aiding and abetting’ (his words) his growth to nearly four hundred pounds over the last three years, the man had dumped her and moved out as part of his so called lifestyle changes. Working in the gym was like getting sand in your contacts at the beach – nothing like being near something amazing and then having sand thrown in your face. Beach of course being an allegory for fat, and sand being for weight loss. Whatever. It wasn’t important, and it sucked.

And so did Brad. The muscled jock shot another glare at her as she assisted her client in the last set of his reps. Zing! She had barely talked to him, but something about her had clearly crawled up his butt. Her client, Greg, smiled between red cheeks which reddened to ruby as she absently made a tugging motion towards his white t-shirt, which had ridden up during his sit ups. Zing! Despite eating the daily shitsandwhich of watching hot men literally waste away in front of her on a daily basis, it felt like a deserved penance. And though it might suck, it was nice to feel the thorny tendrils of self-hate fade away as the pounds did.

Obligatory words of encouragement and smiles ensued. Apparently she did it rather well, as her clientele base had been steadily growing through both referrals and repeat customers. Her eyes snagged on his still thick form as he plodded towards the shower, soaked shirt clinging to every curve and valley. Zing! Turning her gaze unerringly to the source of her annoyance, she huffed a breath to see the muscled man striding towards her. “Brad.”

“Vivian.”

“Problem?”

A tick behind his right eye started as two hazel piss-hole-in-the-snow eyes latched onto her. “Nope.”

Dark dog rolled out of him, drowning out her light as surely as someone hovering when she tried to read. Thorny tentacles flashed within like lightening. Riiight.

Leaning into her space, he lowered his voice. “I know what you are.”

Widening her eyes in mock terror, she raised her hands. “Oh, gawd, please don’t report me to the passport office!”

“FFA.”

The low, intimate growl was almost a caress, or a greeting. Her stomach quivered, as did her lady bits. Three plus decades on this planet had taught her words, tone, even body language was only part of the picture. It was the colours, feelings, temperatures that people gave off that showed their true emotions, motivations, history – all of it. That dark cloud roiled hungrily, but as usual, did not envelop her. It was like it was being held at bay. All of the anger, loathing – it was directed inwards.

Leaning towards him so that their noses almost touched, she inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering. Allowing a smile to creep across her face, she opened her eyes and made dead eye contact. “Former fatty,” she breathed in acknowledgement

His eyes widened in shock, that dark cloud disappearing in a puff.

Direct hit – nothing would have given it away on the outside. Thickly muscled arms balanced an equally muscled and broad chest which tapered to a waist to tiny and taut that his abs were visible when he moved. Beneath that muscle bound exterior was a former fatty. And it knew her – knew her kind. Within a heartbeat, jagged stings lashed at her as the self flagellation turned on her.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you do to men.”

Rolling her eyes at his angry grammar (do not think that I am unaware of what you to do other men), she tossed her currently purple hair over her shoulder. “That’s me – the friendly neighbourhood fat admirer, helping people gain weight - one lost pound at a time! Give it up, Brad. Stop glaring at me like I’m a member of the four horsemen set loose upon this establishment.”

“You wish I’d let it go.”

“You wish I’d make you let go.”

The double entendre for his appetite seemed to make him tongue tied for a moment, his eyes bulging in a way that would have been hilarious – if not coming from a man that was close to two hundred and fifty pounds of raw muscle who was clearly incensed.

Ignoring his spluttering, she patted his cheek. “Nice talk, Brad. Go…eat air or whatever it is that you meatheads do to pretend that you are real boys.”

Three months later, even the insensitive jocks had noticed his antagonistic attitude.

“What did you do to Brad now, Viv?” Joey was spotting her as she pumped, focusing on her breathing in her skimpy Mary Antoinette costume. The Halloween party of course involved working out.

“I told him to go eat cake.”

Joey snickered, his freckles momentarily highlighted as he scrunched his nose in the cute grin he had. “’Cuz he never eats cake, right?”

Dear god. “Right, Joey.”

He glanced over at the other man. “I don’t think Brad has ever tasted a sweet thing in his life. I think he keeps alive through like, mitosis. You know, what plants do,” he added when she shot him a look of ‘what the fuck?.’

“That’s photosynthesis.” The fuckface addendum to that sentence hung in the air unspoken, making Miss Antoinette hide a grin in her shoulder as she holstered the weights. Hazel eyes locked on hers, several small styrofoam plates clenched delicately in his big paws. “Tom brought in cake for Nancy’s goodbye party. Because apparently Halloween chips, pop, and chocolate bars aren’t sufficient,” he added, tone lowering to grumbling disapproval.

“Oh god, shut up for once,” Viv snapped, gesturing at his hands. “Just shut up and be a normal person and eat food.”

Brad shot the other man a glare as he snickered at his expense. “What, you aren’t going to shove it down my throat?”

Caught in the act of standing, she unfolded herself slowly. Capturing a plate, she carefully balanced it in one hand. “ The only thing I’d like to shove down your throat is your ego, Brad.” Shoving a hearty spoonful of the disgustingly sweet, chemical slurry into her mouth, she walked away from them both.
 
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Xyantha Reborn

- Actually Very Tame!
***
Joined
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Messages
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Location
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No Pain, No Gain

Life as a fat man sucked. The constant judgements about your personality, intelligence, and physical capabilities were as insidious as they were non stop. It was not just women, although that in itself was an awful trial. It was friends, family, and even employers. Somehow it was inexcusable to discriminate based on age, race, or religion, but a few dozen extra pounds was like wearing an anti-promotion device strapped to you all day long.

Having always been a heavy kid, Brad had been used to it. The little laughs when he ordered enough to actually fill himself. The eyerolls from girlfriends and family. The quick eye flicks to his waistline during job interviews. So when he found a woman who not only accepted his size, but thought it sexy, he was over the moon.

It was hardly a trial to eat things he already would have eaten. Or to take a few more bites with a wink to make her giggle, squirm – and then have sex. It was a bit of a trial as the years passed and his weight continued to tick upwards. The former laughs turned into pointed comments. The eyerolls became frowns. And the eye flicks became a steady stream of platitudes that ‘another, more qualified candidate was found for the position.

Any attempt to diet was sabotaged. Any attempt to exercise was met with tears. And any weight loss was met with coldness in the bedroom. It had taken him months to see what was happening, and many more to break up with her, knowing he may very well be fat and alone forever. She who was not to be named.

His therapist had said that you did not break habits, you replaced them. And so, he replaced the cause of his weight gain with the solution. Every time he was hungry, he worked out. It worked like a charm. He was in the best shape of his life at the ripe old age of thirty eight, and could pick up women regularly.

Any woman he wanted.

“Brad!”

The sound of his name being spoken sharply drew his attention to his client. “Sorry. Was thinking about the next set of reps we are going to have you do.”

The object that had previously been in his line of sight rolled her eyes and shook her blue hair even as his client let out a groan of despair. If food was a drug, an FFA was a drug dealer. And working with her day in, day out, was pure torture. But he had been here first and was damned if he was going to move on just because she made him a little uncomfortable.

No one else knew. She didn’t tout body positivity, she didn’t google fat porn at work. She didn’t push a single bite of food on anyone, or even comment on food or exercise outside of her clients. It was the lingering touches, the warm smiles, and comfort that had first tipped him off. Working with fat clients could be pretty demotivating – most dropped out, and the amount they could do was so limited. Yet she met every heavy-set client with a warm smile, nods of approval, and was comfortable touching them to move them into position.

The next trigger was watching how her eyes followed her clients as they moved back to the showers – as if she was memorizing them at their heaviest. As if she was noting, in a non clinical manner, the way their love handles jiggled and thighs rubbed together. And she hadn’t denied it when he confronted her. Instead of widening her eyes and claiming ignorance, the damn woman had smelled him the way a fat kid smelled cake, sultry eyed opening as she immediately identified him as the former fatty he was.

If one could become a former fatty – could one become a former FFA?

Creepy as it sounded, he had stalked her a bit. Nothing bad, just enough to see that her dates were normal sized guys who never ordered a ton of food. Ok, fine, maybe that was bad. But the thought of working with a chick who was secretly fattening people up by night then helping them lose weight by day made him rather queasy.

So far, she had not slipped up. And his workouts had nearly tripled. Nothing to do with her, just doubling down.

“Going to do Mr. Universe or something?” the dip shit kid Joey bayed at his own humour.

He might not give into cravings, but he did give into hanger. “Or something,” he muttered, trying to soften the snap with a tightening of his lips.

“You should ask her out?”

He was busy placing the weights back on the rack. “Who?”

“Viv.”

He was so surprised, the fifty-pound weight slid through his hands. He did not so much as hear it fall with his ears, as feel the shock reverberate up his leg. A scream was ripped from his throat even before the pain registered – but by the time he hit the floor it had caught up with him, sending blinding waves of agony ricocheting around his body, keening breaths he was physically unable to stop escaping him.

Cool hands cupped his cheek, turning his face into something soft as someone else cut the laces on his shoes. “It’s ok, Brad. I’ve got you, I’ve got you. The ambulance is on its way. You are going to be ok. I’m going to stay here, don’t worry.” Client and co-worker faces blurred against involuntary tears, and he turned his face back, swallowing and compressing the agony into wheezing, jagged inhales and exhales.

*~*~*

His foot was broken. He did not need the doctor to tell him that much, but as the doctor put up the xray and began talking, he found it impossible to focus on the diagnosis and prognosis.

Viv was still there, on the same chair she had been in for the last few hours. As he rolled in and out of consciousness, her hand had always been clasping his. Her eyes met him, and sympathy flashed through them.

“Why are you still here?” he demanded, knowing he was being surly and unreasonable just as surely as he was unable to stop it.

Instead of getting offended, she sassed him back so normally he almost grinned, as did her crazy pink hair that was mussed from running her hands through it. “Well it’s not like anyone else would sit here and take your shit. And you hate me enough that at least my presence will inspire you to get out of bed and stop moping soon.”

He was saved from answering as the nurse came through the door, nodding to the doctor and deposing his dinner in front of him.

“Want me to get you something else?” Viv asked, her voice soft.

He stared hard at the jello, rice, and disgusting steamed vegetables beside a portion of mystery meat. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Fatten me up while I can’t move?”

The scrape of her chair was loud in the quiet room. “Jesus fuck, Brad! I don’t do that – I’ve never done that! I have never once put a spoon or fork in someone’s mouth to purposefully fatten them up!”

“No, you just probably cry and manipulate with sex.”

“I don’t know what bitch you have been with in the past, but holy hell! Do I love a man with an appetite? Oh, yes. Do I love the consequence of said big appetites? Of course! But you know why I swore off fatties? Drama. Drama, drama, drama. I’m tired of the self-hate, Brad. I’d rather a fit guy who doesn’t question his self worth than a big guy with body issues. Hands down. Any day of the week. That’s what lube is for. I wouldn’t even know what food you like, because I have only ever seen you eat protein bars and shakes. Which by the by, was what I was going to pick up for you!”

“I’m sorry.” Oddly enough, he was. Her anger was real, and he believed her.

Standing, she tossed her purse over her shoulder. “Get well soon, asshole,” she snapped as she walked out.
 
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agouderia

Library Girl
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Great to see a new story of yours Xyantha!
I assume this is an ongoing oeuvre, not a finished short story -or not?
 

loopytheone

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Oooooh, all aboard the new Xy story train! =D

I always love seeing new stories from you Xy, you seem to have an endless stream of scenarios and ideas in your head, I don't know how you do it! I'm so useless when it comes to writing anything realistic, hah. I have to say, I like the path this one is taking; extra spicy. ;) But also relatable, though of course I never became a fitness instructor myself, hahaha! I'm really looking forwards to seeing where this new one goes, though I think we all have some ideas where it might be heading! ;)

One minor issue though; your use of asexual in the second post isn't correct. Asexual is a sexual orientation, you can't decide to 'become' asexual anymore than you can decide to become gay or straight or whatever. Celibate would be a much better word choice here; that's the term for people who are still physically attracted to people but choose not to act on it, for whatever reason. We can't decide to turn off (or on) our actual attraction, though that would make things easier in some cases, I think, hah.
 

stevita

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This is brilliant so far. Keep it up! And IDK if Viv's hyperempathy is meant as a literal superpower or a nod to neurodivergence...but as an autistic FFA I relate to this character so much already.
 

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