Patrick Stump Imagines/oneshots

I'm Coming Apart at the Seams (fluff)

"No sweetheart come on. You're beautiful, you're not fat at all-" just as you said that the timer for the food went off in the kitchen. "Oh, dinner's ready. Let's eat and then we can talk about all this, okay?"

'I'm not hungry," mumbled Patrick, looking down again.

"Huh?" You'd heard what he said but you didn't want to hear it.

"I said I'm not hungry. I think I'm just gonna go to bed. You enjoy the food," he said, looking heartbroken as he struggled to his feet and walked slowly upstairs. You sat at the bottom watching him walk away.

"Okay baby, I'll be up later," you shouted up to him. He nodded slowly, without a word ans disappeared out of sight.

You were shocked and deeply concerned. You didn't know he really felt that way about himself. Of course he'd mentioned once it twice about his weight but only as a passing comment, you didbt know how big of a problem it really was to him. Then it struck you, maybe he was getting hate online!

Pulling out your phone which was in yoyr apron pocket, you went on Instagram. The first video which came up was of Fall Out Boy and you instantly went into the comments. Sure enough, a couple of comments down was one that said:

'Have you seen the singer now? He's put on so much weight, no wonder his singing is so bad. The fatshit can hardly breathe'

A reply to the comment said:

'Ikr! He was ok before but he's disgusting now'

You scrolled a bit further, seeing negative comment after negative comment.

'He's so fat'

'Patrick let's the whole band down. They'd all be attractive if it wasn't for him'

'Patrick Stump = Fatrick Stump'

They were endless. You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears.

After you read more hateful comments you turned off the food which was cooking in the kitchen and went upstairs to see your husband, walking quietly incase he'd gone to bed. Opening the door softly, a horribly sad sight met your eyes; Patrick was sat in front of the mirror in the dark, his shirt off and his head in his hands as he sobbed silently. He must have not heard you come in.

"Baby?" You said nervously and softly so as not to frighten him as you stood in the doorway.

His head shot up as he heard you, his eyes bright pink and puffy. You'd seen him cry before but not like this, this was truely a defeated man who hated himself and that shattered your heart.

He didn't reply, he just wiped his eyes on the back of his hands, gasping a little to catch his breath.

"Oh, honeybear..." you said sadly, as you walked over to him, taking off your apron and sitting down next to him on the bed. You put your arm around his shoulders and he began to sob again, loudly this time. His breathing was shakey and up and down as he covered his face again which was going red from crying. "What is it really, my angel?" You asked, thinking it was probably online hate.

His hands trembling, Patrick reached for his phone which was still on, next to him on the bed. He showed you a number of DM's he'd been getting. The first one said:

'Heard you've put on a lot of weight, you were way better thin'

The next:

'It's people like you that clog up the hospitals and emergency care. There are such things as diets and gyms you know'