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Submitted on
September 10, 2012
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Mature Content


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(Contains: strong language and ideologically sensitive material)
The Saddest Girl Smiles The Brightest

Canada x Anorexic!Reader

"_______! Over here!"

The sound of the flats of your shoes hitting the cemented sidewalk stopped as you looked over your shoulder to view whomever was calling towards you.

Elizavetta, one of your friends from your school you had been walking home from, jogged over to where you, her long, brown hair bouncing up and down as she did so. When she arrived at your side, she began to walk along side you. You looked at her and flashed a big, fake smile.

"So how's it going?" She questioned in an over-dramatically cheerful voice, turning her head so her eyes met the side of your face that stayed focused on the path ahead of you.

The expression on your face remained unfazed, as being accustomed to her hyper giddiness by now, in all the years that you had known her.

"The same old, same old, I guess." You replied rather monotonously. It's not that you didn't want or enjoy your friend Eliza's company, it's just that it had been a rough day, today. A day filled with crumpled up paper being thrown at the back of your head, whispering and snickers here and there coming from unbeknownst corners of which ever room you had happened to be in, passive aggressive comments aimed towards you filling the air and more. So, yeah, to say the least, life had caught up to you and you had a little trouble being peppy at the moment.

Eliza made a mock sneer face, chuckled, then returned her gaze in front of her as well.

As you two continued to walk towards your destination, Eliza coughed as if to catch your attention. You looked up and to your side to be met with forest-green orbs that were filled with mixed emotion; happiness, care... sympathy, and... was that worry?

"...You know you can be one hundred percent honest with me, right?" She asked cautiously, the same tone one would use if talking to a scared child.



Stopping in your tracks, you ponder, "Why?"


You deadpanned. "Nonono, Elizavetta. I mean, why do you ask?"

"Oh. ...Right..."

"Elizavetta..?" You prodded curiously, growing more concerned by the minute.

"Say, _________...? Could we possibly continue this conversation later? My mom invited you over for dinner tonight even though she'd be at work at that time. I think that'd be a good time when we can discuss this..."

"Discuss what?" You asked quickly and agitated. You ground your planted foot into the pavement a little showing frustration. You were growing a bit angry, she never beat around the bush this much and you wanted to find out what the hell she was talking about that'd make her act this way with you. But at the same time, you had a pretty good idea...

"I'll let you know when we're there and conversing about it, alright..?




Elizavetta and yourself made your way to her house after a fifteen minute walk with nothing but silence. You were now on the porch, standing in front of the entrance. Eliza was fumbling through a ring of keys while your mind was spacing out and staring at the now reddish- orange sky.

She had finally found the said key that was a fit and slowly opened the front door. She took a step inside the doorframe, turned on the light, and ushered you in.

Shutting the door behind yourselves, she headed towards the kitchen and half- yelled, "Please make yourself comfortable!!"

You shrugged at her hospitality and took a seat down on the soft, brown couch with blue trimmings, it was actually quite ugly. Of course, you would never tell Eliza that, she always took too much pride in that thing...

You were broken away from your mindless thoughts of furniture when Eliza chimed in from the kitchen for you. You didn't actually get the precise words, but you figured that it was probably time to eat.


Your upset stomach withdrew it's appeal towards the thought of eating.

'Oh, no! You thought worriedly. You couldn't, no... you wouldn't.

Getting up sluggishly from off your comfy seat, you trudged towards the dinner table and onto the wooden chair that was closet to you and farthest away from the food that Eliza was currently setting on the table.

You had to admit; everything was set up perfectly. Not in a romantic way, but a classy lay out. It seemed as though every fork and spoon were exactly in place. It was tempting. Too tempting, perhaps...

Before you had even a second to react, the food was set on the plate in front of you in perfect position and Eliza was sitting next to you.

"What are you waiting for, __________? Dig in!" She said right before a forkful of delicious scrumptiousness went full speed into her mouth. She swallowed the bite she had taken before looking at you intently with those lively orbs of hers. Oh gosh, you knew where this was going and you didn't like it. You needed out of this, or at least to avoid it...

"I would like to discuss whatever you wanted to speak to me about first, before I do anything else." You said sternly and stoically, your gaze drifting from your plate to her, then back to your plate.

"Very well, ________. Precious, little ________, you poor thing..." She started.

"Hm?" You looked at her with a poker face while cocking an eyebrow.

"What in the world have you been doing to yourself?" She tilted her head slightly, letting her brunette locks that framed her face fall to the side. She stood up from her chair and walked over to your other side, pulling you up.

"Elizavetta, if this conversation is going anywhere, I'd like to lea-" You attempt at escaping this death trap was cut- off by her Hungarian accent.

"________... Why do you do this to yourself?"

You had lost it now, you just wanted this to be over already.

"DO WHAT , ELIZAVETTA? WHAT? BE HUMILIATED EVERY SINGLE DAY, DAY IN AND DAY OUT BY THOSE BASTARDS AND BITCHES? HUH? HAVE MY SELF- ESTEEM SHATTERED BECAUSE I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH?" You screamed in her face. Your own face tainted a sick shade of crimson from sadness and anger. Her eyes went wide from shock, but lessened from expectancy. She laid a hand gently on your shoulder.

"_________..." She coaxed.

"NO, ELIZA! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE! YOU'RE PERFECT, YOU DON'T NEED TO CHANGE YOURSELF!! YOU NEVER GET HARASSED BECAUSE OF HOW YOU LOOK OR YOUR WEIGHT!! Y-YOU DON'T! YOU DON'T U-UNDERSTAND!!!" You screamed at her sympathetic figure once again. By this point, you had horribly warm tears spilling down your red cheeks. You were at the point of shaking and choking on your own words, your pitiful excuses for your state of mind.

"I understand just fine, _________, please...!"

You ripped yourself free from her flimsy grasp.

"_________! PLEASE! LISTEN, I CAN HELP-"

"NO, YOU CAN'T ELIZA!!! NO ONE CAN!! I'M AWEFUL, I NEED TO DO THIS!!" You yell, letting more hot liquid fall down your face.

"_________!!!!" Eliza yells. "_________, YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THIS, PLEASE!!!" Her own face being stained with the horrible, salty water, cheeks burned red.

"I DO, ELIZA!! I'M LEAVING!!" You scream at the top of your lungs, surprised that you haven't collapsed onto the floor by now out of hunger or because of your current state.


The atmosphere being so tense that it felt something would explode any moment, you stop in your tracks. You stop flailing away to no avail from Eliza, shaking, trying to getting to a state of mind where you can picture Matthew.

'Oh, god, Matthew... Trembling, only imagining what he would've thought of this all. The poor guy knew nothing of your disorder. Yes, perhaps there were hints here of how you were acting strangely as of late. How you seemed distant towards the people whom you cared for. But, that's all that he thought of it. Of course he was worried, but who wouldn't be in his situation? Having their best friend separate from life, slowly slipping away. Only thing was; he didn't have a clue. An information-less worry, if you will.

You didn't think of this, however. Sure the guy was sweet, in fact, you had liked Matthew for quite some time now, but it's not like he'd actually give a damn about you, would he? No, you thought not. No one has or ever will reciprocate your feelings, so why would there be a reason he should? There didn't come one reason in your mind; you were worthless.


You wanted to shout to her what was on your heart and mind, but your voice had given up on you. Even trying to gather enough words to form a somewhat sensible sentence wasn't working. The only noise escaping your lips were whimpers in the tense air.

You raise your head just a bit and look Elizavetta dead in the eyes with your own [e/c], red and tear- stained spheres. Then you turned around, headed for the door, and left, slamming the hard wooden frame behind.

Eliza had almost come after you, but she knew that no matter what she did at this point, there was no helping you. She couldn't. She knew there was only one who could.

You ran down the street, quickly, sobbing. You thought you had pulled yourself together, but you had let the salty tears run down your fiery cheeks. It was sunset and you looked up at the sky as you ran, you felt a sense of guilt rush over you. You slow down your pace a stagger your way over to a side of a building.

Resting you back on the cool wall, you slowly slid down. You reached for your knees and pulled them to your chest. Placing your head between them, you continued to violently sob.

The sound of your cries died down after a while and you sat there and thought.

Slowly, you bring your hand down to the rim of your shirt and pull it up carefully to reveal a sickly pale, caved in stomach with the ribcage showing. Your frail fingers lightly skimmed over the said area.

"You don't care Matt... No one does." You mutter under your breath in a hushed tone.

"_-_-_______...?!" A soft male voice barely above a whisper said.

You brought your head up to see a man with medium, lightly golden hair. He had a pair of wire glasses near the tip of his nose and behind those were beautiful violet eyes which held the expression of shocked. He almost looked as if he were going to burst into tears himself.

"...Matthew...?" You managed to breathe out. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I-I.. w-was walking home..."


He looked deep into your eyes with his watering up, which was odd of him since he was usually one to avoid eye contact.


His eyes drifted downwards to your stomach and grasped your hand. His eyes full of shock, hurt, care, and worry.

Matthew's other hand went to the bottom hem of your shirt and tugged it gently before slowly pulling it up just enough to show your ribcage.

"Matt..." You started, but the sentence going nowhere.

Without warning, he bent down to where you were sitting even more and engulfed you in a huge bear hug.

"_______.. Y-you can't do t-this anymore..." He nearly cried into your shoulder.


"I need to tell you something I've h-had on my mind for a while.."


"I know i-it might not change anything, i-in fact it might m-make things worse, but.."

"What is it, Mattie?"

He blushed a dark crimson at you nickname for him and retrieved his head from your shoulder and looked you in the eyes with the utter most serious expression portrayed on his face.

"You're doing this because you f-feel no one cares... right?" He asked with an innocent and worried look on his face.

"No one does care-"

"Je t'aime, _________."

"Mattie...? You... you what?" You asked breathlessly.

"I know you don't feel the same, so I-I'll take my leave..." He said, standing up.

You pulled him back down and into a soft and innocent kiss. When you two departed for the need for air, he looked at you with wide eyes.

"I've always loved you, Mattie."

And from that day onwards, you and Matthew dated and he helped you overcome your eating disorder. He never left your side.

And you two couldn't be any more in love.

Another request done.
This one's suppose to be sad, but with a happy ending? IDK


I listened to this while I wrote it, doesn't really have anything to do with the story. ---> [link]

{A/N: I'll edit this later}

Preview Art is not mine.
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EvilAngel3 Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I absolutely refuse to wear shorts in public because of my weight. I mean, 5'2" and 220 lbs. That's NOT a pretty number. Food be damned, I'm gonna be what I should.
OddDisease Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Damn food all you wish, please don't damn yourself! No one should be anything! To quote a show I like, "No one belongs anywhere, no one exists on purpose..."

I guess what I'm trying to get across is, you can look however you wish to, but? You can still be 5'2" and 220 and be healthy! And/or even carry the weight well! Everyone's built differently, not just when it comes to meat, but bone structure, tendons, hormones, etc. You shouldn't be striving for something just because you've been taught that you should fit into a certain aesthetic/category.
EvilAngel3 Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Well like, my family puts me down CONSTANTLY because of my size. Ok, I'm a DD. Ok, I'm not skinny and pretty like the rest of you. But fuck man, why does it have to come to this? Same with self harm, a certain *ahem* 'family' member saw something they shouldn't have, IMMEDIATELY goes and tells my parents, who proceed to call me INSANE.
OddDisease Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I don't know your specific pain with the body size, since I get put down constantly because they think I'm underweight, but you need to understand that skinny =/= pretty. As with self-harm, holy shit, I completely understand. My cousin saw the deep gashes on my ankles and told her mom who told my mom... and ugh. They're making it this whole drama (WHICH IS WHAT I WANTED TO AVOID IN THE FIRST PLACE) and they keep it from my dad, but I think everyone else knows. I'm so sorry that you're going through something similar, it sucks, man. :[
EvilAngel3 Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Basically, I have everything undesirable on a woman. Muffin top, back fat, my chest is WAY too big, (seriously, I have the worst luck. 48 DD? Seriously? Shit.) But I'm constantly made fun of for it. I'm heavy on the self criticism too. For instance, I absolutely LOVE choir. Music is basically my life. But unfortunately the choir room in my school has AN ENTIRE WALL THAT IS NOTHING BUT MIRROR. I HATE looking at myself in the mirror. I love the class, just hate the room. None of the girls in there know that I cut. NONE. And I wear short sleeve shirts sometimes. Most of the time, I wear long sleeves. Don't care how hot it is. I remember in 8th grade, one of the boys saw my wrists, he tortured me CONSTANTLY about it til I snapped at him and completely went off in English. Because FUCK their judgment. Still. It's not even that anymore. Now it's mainly me comparing myself to others and thinking "Well damn. I'm nowhere NEAR as beautiful as these other girls. I wanna be worth something! I want someone to love me to." Hey, let's be brutally honest here. Nobody gives a flying fuck about anyone else unless they're beautiful or dead. I'm not beautiful, and I'm not dead. (yet)
OddDisease Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I thought that big chests on girls were desirable? But I see where you're coming from. Self-criticism is the worst. It breaks my heart to hear that you love music, but are halted somewhat when it comes to it because of self-conscious thoughts about your appearance. You're very brave, Emmi, you absolutely have to give yourself that. I always wear long socks even when it's sweltering outside in 100 degree temperature. It's even harder, I know, when people don't know about the self inflicted scars because even if they would eye you weird, you wouldn't have to hide it necessarily all the time. Teen boys are the worst, tbh. I advise you not even take into consideration what any of them have to say. Obviously that won't make their words hurt any less, I just wanted to have it that their opinions mean -5% out there. But yeah, FUCK their judgement, that's right attitude. Yeah, those emotions tend to transition to something else, too, like you said. I know it won't make it any better, but I look at other people and legitimately hate myself and how I look, but when anyone else sees them, they get confused, like, 'why do you like the way they look? They're ugly!'. Which, doesn't make anything feel better, but makes me feel bad about the way I WANT to look and how I DO look now. Nobody gives a flying fuck about anyone else unless they're beautiful or dead, sure, BUT! That's the thing: nobody. They are theoretically nothing in this saying. You form a bond, whether it be like soul mate crap or just a kind acquaintance, they will care. That's in human nature to care for a bond, and the other side of the bond. You're not going to care too much about someone you don't even know. You're worth caring for, Emmi. You just need to surround yourself with less toxic people.
EvilAngel3 Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Unfortunately, everyone in my school is EXTREMELY insensitive. I try making others feel better than I do because I hate to see people suffer like I do.. But holy shit, people are just dicks. Try to be nice and everyone turns a blind eye.
OddDisease Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
I completely understand what you're saying, you're right. -_- I'm sorry that people are like this, but I guess it's not like we got to design the human race's DNA or anything. :Y (We could totally do a better job if we had tbh lol)
(2 Replies)
the13thnight Featured By Owner Mar 7, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Im 99 pounds 5'3" derp yet on always to afraid to even put on a bathing suit... I dunno it's complicated. I'm always nervous I'll make someone feel bad about their weight bc I'm skinny
OddDisease Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Right. I understand. The reason I'm afraid to put on a bathing suit is because of my scars instead of my weight. -m-
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