ATLA/LOK Fem Imagines

*Its Okay - The Gaang's Kids

Trigger Warning: Bullying, Mentions of suicidal thoughts, and Detailed descriptions involving weight.

Since my early youth, I've been a tad thicker than my fellow peers. To the surprise of no one, kids bullied me, further solidifying all my insecurities about appearing different. Children are ruthless. Some never had the confidence to say anything to my face, and others were bold enough to spit on me or call me names while boring directly into my eyes. For a while, the comments only made my situation worse. I found comfort in all different types of food: Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, Northern and Southern Water Tribe, ancient Air Nomad cuisine, street food, and anything I could get my hands on.

Consequently, my weight fluctuated. Sometimes I appeared very heavy. Other times, I seemed appropriately proportioned. My relationship with my weight has always been rocky. Though, now in my teen years, I find the topic more sensitive than ever.

My deep hatred for my body began when I first tried to lose weight. I tried the remedy everyone recommends; calorie control. It worked for three weeks before the pounds rolled back, despite sticking to the strict plan. After that fail, I did zero carbs and a whole bunch of cardio, and the same thing happened. It worked for a few weeks, and then the weight came back. So, I tried portion control. It seemed promising for two months until it went to shit. I tried hitting the gym every day for a year. All it did was make me bigger from muscle mass. I did everything I could without wasting the little money my brother and I have. Nothing worked.

And, now, your girl's in a deep, never-ending, earth-shattering, life-changing depression. My bed, my favorite pajamas, my couch, my blanket, my radio, food, and my brother are the only things that can bring me some sense of joy. Summer merely started, and the closest I got to going outside was sticking my arm out my window to check for rain.

I would go out more, but I recently made friends with the children of the most influential people in the world, and they make me feel the utmost insecurity. Naturally, they harbor shapely physiques and appear incredibly attractive. I look foolish merely standing beside them. They always want to hang out with me too. I can't tell if they genuinely like me or if they're treating me like some charity case. Or even worse, the whole friendship is secretly a prank to mock me. I have no experience with friends besides my older brother. He's always working, though. So, I wouldn't even know.

Transfixed on the reflection of my figure, I lift my shirt lightly, grazing the faint pink marks along my hip and stomach with my fingertips. Even with cocoa butter, the stretch marks scar. My lips thin out to a sad smile as I clutch the bulk of my belly fat. At least my boobs are massive, but my fat makes my ass look flat. I prod the fat around, trying to imagine my body without the skin beginning to hang over. An office telephone-like ring reverberates through the house while in this process. I peel my eyes away from my mirror, debating about letting the phone ring. It could be my brother, though. So, I shuffle out of the bathroom, down the short hall, and into the kitchen.

"Yes?" I answer meekly after picking up the communicator from the wall.

"Are you coming or not? We're heading toward the beach soon," Bumi's manly voice clambers.

I never gave him and the rest of the group a definitive answer when they asked me earlier this week. While I don't want to go, I don't want to seem rude or make any of them feel bad. Since we met, they've consistently asked me to hang out, and I usually decline. Though, the rare times I agree, they all claim to enjoy my company.

"No, it's okay. I don't feel comfortable going. I'll speak to you guys later, though," I murmur into the phone.

Kya shouts from over Bumi's shoulder, I assume, "You said that the last five times! We never see you. Plus, I think Lin and Izumi are starting to miss you."