200 ways to love the body you have

BTS as Flirty Starbucks Guys - Namjoon

Request by@belikelasagna: Annyeonggg Request: Them as flirty Starbucks guyss Hope you don’t mind me requesting reeeally often!! :))


Please remember I’m going to be posting 1 a day for the next 7 days (a member a day) and it’s going to be in the order in which the ideas came to me and I wrote them😋

They all vary in length but I’ll give a word count before each one💁

I can’t believe  you guys have gotten me to over 800 followers!😭😘I really can’t thank you enough for all the love and support💖

Let me know what you think and, as always, feel free to make requests (HERE)

I will update my Masterlist soon and I promise another update for Heartbreak Girl is coming, but I was busy working on this😅



Member: Namjoon

Length: 1661 words

“Did you know that the world consumes 1.6 billion cups -”

“That’s great kid, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, can you move it along please?”

“-of coffee daily.” Namjoon trailed off quietly to himself and instead carried on with the customer’s order, shoulders slightly hunched at the unnecessary rudeness from the man before him.

Honestly, he was just trying to be different and give people facts about the coffee they drink on a daily basis. I mean, after working at Starbucks for quite a while you start picking up facts here and there and also – being incurably knowledge hungry – he may or may not have looked up some himself, but if anyone asked him he’d deny it because why would he spend 2 hours reading books about the history of coffee on a Friday night when he could be out gallivanting – people still used that word right? – with his friends.

But, shrugging off the rushed vibes from the man now speeding walking out the door, coffee in hand and not even a thanks as a tip, he turned to face the next – and last – customer in line and felt all the blood in his body rush to his cheeks.

“Hi, uh welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you?” Namjoon managed to get out, clearing his throat at the end.

“Hi, I’m not really sure what I’d like today. Anything you would recommend?”

“The uh Chai Latte is quite good, but if you’re not in the mood for that the uh Hazelnut Frappuccino is good too, although it’s cold out so maybe something warmer?” He stumbled over his words, cheeks still flushed.

“The Chai Latte sounds great actually, I’ll have that please.” A pause, “Oh and what was that I heard you saying to the guy before me?”

Namjoon keyed in the order before he snapped his head up at the question, promptly knocking over the pen holder.

“Oh shi-oot,” Managing to stop himself from swearing in front of a customer, he bashfully looked down at the counter at yet another accident he managed to cause, when a throat cleared and his attention drawn was back to the person before him.

“I’m so sorry, you must have thought I was done when I paused and I ended up startling you. Here, let me help.”

Then another – softer, more feminine – hand was reaching forward to help Namjoon pick up the scattered pens, some managing to fall on the floor of customer’s side of the counter, and when the fingers of those hands brushed against his while returning one of the pens, he almost knocked it over again.

“Thank you,” Namjoon smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the now non-existent mess, “you really didn’t have to help. And uh, you didn’t startle me. Well you did, but uh not in the way you’re probably thinking? More in the way that no one has really ever voluntarily wanted to hear the random facts about coffee that I know.” Cue awkward laugh and another tentative smile.

“It’s no problem, really. Even though I didn’t startle you in the way I guessed,” more blushing but surprisingly not from Namjoon, “I still kind of added to the accident. But I do find that hard to believe. Why would no one want to know about the substance they are putting into their body on a fairly regular, if not, daily basis?” Namjoon thinks he’s in love… okay well maybe not love love, but as in-like as you can be with someone you have just met and have probably only spoken about 200 or so words to each other.

“My thoughts exactly!” Namjoon almost shouts excitedly – he reigns it in though because he’s cool, he can keep his cool – and starts to make the Chai Latte, focusing on not burning his hand again this week.

“Well seeing as I actually am interested in what I’m drinking, care to share another of those facts you have stored in your brain?”

Now, he’s nearly 100 percent certain that flirting was occurring and it may have been a while since he’d last done it, but he’d be damned if he messed up like last time and give Jimin another thing to tease him about.

“Did you know,” Good start, strong delivery, “that it takes 100 cups,” oh no, “to make 1 bean of coffee.” And he messed up, again.

Namjoon feels his cheeks heating up again and is about to start praying for the ground to open up and swallow him, when he hears a giggle. It’s not that loud and it sounds like the person is trying to stifle it (God bless them for trying), so he takes a deep breath and doesn’t look up while he tries again.

“What I meant to say was, did you know that it takes 100 beans to make 1 cup of coffee.” He managed to get it right this time and looks up to see a smile so pretty and so bright, it could rival Jimin’s or Taehyung’s.

“I didn’t actually know that, but wow, 100 beans? Really? I guess you learn something new every day.” Another smile (no Namjoon’s heart is not beating faster).

“Can I get your name, for your order I mean.” His bashful smile is back and as he poises the pen above the cup, he is graced with another giggle.

“It’s Y/N.”

That may or may not be Namjoon’s new favourite name.


2 weeks later, Namjoon is on his break sitting at one of the tables near the back with his nose buried in yet another book.

Luckily it’s not another book about the history of coffee (he only made that mistake once and Hoseok and Yoongi still tease him about it whenever they see him with a book which is, a lot of the time) but he’s gotten to the point of reading where he is so focused and zoned out that he’s not really aware of his surroundings anymore so that when he hears a voice, he almost has a heart attack.

“Holy crap, you can’t just sneak up on a person reading! Don’t you know it’s dangerous, like waking up someone whose sleep walking.” Namjoon mutters, one hand over his eyes and the other over his heart that was still beating rapidly.

“Sorry, I keep seeming to startle you every time I’m here.” A laugh, “Do you always read while you’re on your break?”

“I’m pretty sure the last 10 books I’ve read have all been here. I don’t even know if I’m literate at home anymore.” Namjoon jokes lightly, but does a double take when he looks up briefly and realises it’s you, knocking over his thankfully empty coffee mug.

“I feel like I need to buy you a protective bubble or something.” You laugh as you gesture at the mug he’d just knocked over and Namjoon can feel his cheeks heat up (which seems to be their constant setting around you).

“You’re not the first to say that,” He laughs, “but the guys all say I’ll probably pop it while trying to get into it so that idea was a no go.”

You laugh along with Namjoon and when he motions for you to sit opposite him you don’t hesitate, smiling sweetly before crossing your arms and leaning forward on the table as if waiting for him to tell an exciting story.

“So, what’s my fact for today?” You’re grinning and Namjoon smiles back bashfully, dimples on full display making your heart do things that it usually didn’t do, like skip a beat.

“Did you know that the world record for the most coffee consumption is 82 cups in 7 hours?” He’s practically grinning now and if you weren’t sitting in front of him he’d fist pump because he actually got the fact right saying it the first time.

“Wow, that’s a lot of coffee. Whoever did that probably couldn’t sleep for ages!” You’re laughing again and Namjoon joins in, relishing in the sound.

“I have another one for you.” He’s fighting the scarlet threatening to colour his cheeks, but he feels confident as you smile sweetly at him.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“Did you know that there’s a really good chance,” Really good start, “that you’d have a nice dinner,” uhm, “if you went to time with me?” Oh God no, not again.

Namjoon doesn’t stop his will to face palm this time and groans into his hands as soon as the last word has left his mouth. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, why he did so well finally with the fact earlier and messed up now where he really wanted to be smooth, but he supposes he’ll never know and instead hopes for the rejection – he’s no doubt about to face – to be quick and painless.

You’re giggling softly now – like you usually do when he mixes up his sentences – and reach over to gently poke one of his hands to get his attention, which works after a few tries and he slowly lowers his hands while looking down at the table between you, not wanting to meet your gaze.

“Did you know,” You start sweetly, the beginning of your sentence grabbing his interest at the wording and making him look up shyly, “that there’s a 100 percent chance that I’ll have a great time when I go to dinner with you because you know tons of facts about coffee and because it’ll be with you.” You’re blushing now and Namjoon is gaping at you, but that soon turns into a wide dimpled grin and he honestly wants to thank his brain for storing all those facts (and forgives it for messing up all those times while trying to tell you some of them) because he’s sitting here with you now and he’s 99.9 100 percent sure that he has a date with you, at some stage, he just has to choose a day now… crap.

Close Call

Ahhhh!! I just saw your post about open requests and am so excited!! If possible, could you do a Derek, Hotch, or Rossi angsty one where the reader has issues with intimacy bc of a bad experience/ or self body issues. Kind of like the one you did with Emily?? Thank you 😊😊

I can do this!  I hope you enjoy it, because here it is…comin’ ‘atcha!

He was doing it again.

Kissing your neck.

It felt so good, and it set your body aflame.

You loved it when Aaron kissed your neck.

But it always ended the same way.

He always had to try and lay you down.

“Aaron,” you breathed as you put your hands on his chest.  He would search your eyes, his pupils blown wide as the blackness begged for mercy…any type of mercy.

But his irises…those beautiful, brown irises…they understood.

You latched onto that understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he would murmur as he helped you upright.  “Are you alright?”

And you would always answer yes.

Even though you never were.

You stood in the mirror for the hundredth time in who-knows-how many months.  You slowly peeled your pants off as your shirt cascaded down to your knees.  You were thankful for the rising style of tunics and sweater dresses.  You hated exposing your skin.  You hated summer and the bathing suits.

You didn’t even own a bathing suit.

You hated the toned women that Aaron worked with.  You hated their bodies.  You saw the pictures of his ex: how thin and radiant she was.

You hated her, too.

It took you years…YEARS…to get the weight off.  Years to right your diet.

Years to accept you had an issue.

And what were you rewarded with after losing 200 pounds?

Sagging skin.


Deflated balloons for thighs and excess skin around your midsection.

You were so ecstatic when you got the phone call from your doctor saying that you were eligible for the surgery.  You knew that if you could just get this skin off and heal, that you could finally make love to Aaron they way you wanted to.

The way that he deserved.

You took a deep breath as you inspected your body for the last time.

And you smiled at the though that it was the last time.

It shouldn’t have shocked you that Aaron was at your bedside that afternoon.  It shouldn’t have shocked you that, even though you kept it a secret, he had still known.

Or found out.

Maybe Garcia had tracked you down.

“I’m right here,” he soothed lowly as he brushed your hair out of your face.

Your body hurt.

It throbbed and it hurt, and it felt like you had been hit by a bus.

“Here,” Aaron murmured lowly as you heard a beeping in the distance.  “This should help.”

His voice sounded so far away.

You lost yourself in your dreams.  You lost yourself in Aaron’s arms, and his kisses.  The way he praised your body and sunk his fingertips into your tight, toned flesh.  You lost yourself in the way he buried himself between your legs and hummed praises of your body as he lapped up your juices.  You lost yourself in his touches and his grunts as he pushed himself deeper…further…harder into the caverns of your body.

You lost yourself in your dream.

“Y/N?” you hear him say.

He sounded so far away.

“Y/N, can you open your eyes for me?” he asked lowly in your ear.

You sighed as you nuzzled your cheek into him, and he chuckled lightly to himself.

“I need you to open your eyes,” he pleaded.

Why did he sound so sad?

“Mr. Hotchner, we’re gonna have to move her if she doesn’t wake up,” you heard the doctor say.

Not wake up?

You tried moving your body, but you laid completely still.  You tried talking, but all you could do was breathe.  You tried opening your eyes, but all they did was roll back and forth…side to side…

…and then he thrust again into you, and you lost yourself.

To your dreams.

You whimpered in pain as your body shifted.  You groaned as tears rose in your eyes, and you slowly peeled your eyes open as the darkness of the room flooded your vision.  The back of your legs ached and your stomach stung, and your arms felt so heavy.

“Y/N!?” Aaron breathed as you felt someone grasp your hand.

“Y/N…can you hear me?” Aaron asked.

He was panicked.

Why was he so panicked?

“Yes…” you breathe out as you cleared your throat.

“Doctor!” Aaron roared as people flipped the light on and began flooding the room.

You were poked and prodded.  You had lights shined in your eyes that blinded you as people fiddled with your IV.  You felt fingertips bounce on the tender parts of your body as you tried to wriggle away.

Aaron saw the panic rising in your features.

“Ssshhhh sh sh sh,” he said as he cupped your cheek with his hands.  “It’s alright,” he choked out.  “I’m right here.”

Something wet was dripping on your face.

“The surgery…” you trailed off.

“You’re fine.  Everything is alright,” Aaron breathed as his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

“How did you…know…?” you ask as your vision finally returns.

You saw that he was crying.

Why was he crying?

“Garcia,” he managed to get out as you watched his bottom lip tremble.

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered as he brought his lips down upon yours.

The kiss was warm.  It was warm, and soft, and long.  No tongue, no desperation.  Just…longing.

“I had to have-”

“I know,” Aaron said.

“-the surgery so-”

“Y/N,” Aaron stopped you as he looked you deeply in your eyes.  “I know.”

“How could you possibly-?”

“I’m a profiler,” he smiles lightly.  “I know how self conscious you were, and I know you thought I wouldn’t accept your body for what it was.  I knew you were putting off intimacy until you had the surgery.”

“Intimacy,” you smiled crookedly.  “So old fashioned.”

The two of you giggled together as a doctor came into the room.

“You gave us quite a scare there,” he said.

You furrowed your brow as Aaron sat down on the bed and brought your hand to his lips to kiss.

“You, uh…” he began.

“It’s not Monday…is it?” you ask lightly.

The look in Aaron’s eyes…the fear and the sadness…the hesitancy and the relief.

It wasn’t Monday.

“You had a fat embolism on the table,” the doctor began.  “We chased it around for two hours before we finally stabilized you on the table.  It happened just as we were closing you up, and your body went through a lot of trauma.”

You heard Aaron sniffle as he kissed your hand again.

“We put you in a medically-induced coma for 24 hours, but when we brought you off of the medicine, you didn’t come to,” the doctor finished.

“What…what day is it?” you ask as you look over at Aaron.

“Friday,” he said lowly.


It was…it was Friday?

“I’m so glad you came back,” Aaron breathed as he kissed your hand over and over and over again.

Tears inched their way out of your eyes as you laid your head back onto the bed.

“What happens now?” you ask lightly.

“You stay through the weekend, continue to recuperate.  We’ll reevaluate your condition Monday morning, and we take it from there,” the doctor reassured you as he patted your foot.

“You’re body’s been through quite a trauma.  It won’t heal as efficiently as we would like through this process, but you will heal,” he smiled kindly.

Your mind was reeling as the doctor left the room.  You thought back on all the times you could have made love to Aaron.  All the times you could have felt his body instead of dreamt of it.  All the times you could have felt him inside of you instead of just imagining it.

You wasted so much time…

“Aaron, I-”

“There’s no reason to be sorry,” he breathed.

“Just hush and let me talk,” you chuckled lowly.

“Sorry,” he murmured as a smile crossed his face.

“Promise me something,” you say as you guide your hand down to his thigh.

“Anything,” he said earnestly.

“When I’m finally healed, and home, and healthy…” you trail off.

He was hanging onto your every word.

“…promise me you will ravish me,” you whisper as tears well in your eyes.

“Over…and over…and over again,” you breathe as your eyes flutter up to his.

It was then that he dipped his lips onto yours, burying his tongue inside of your mouth and swiped it along your cheeks, drinking every part of you up in desperation as his hand caressed your cheek.

“Promise,” he murmured lowly into your lips.

Strap in guys, this is gonna be a long post.

Today is the 313th birthday of this guy

who was born the 28th of February 1704.

Who is this?
It’s Hans Hermann von Katte, a person you have probably heard of if you’ve been following my blog for a while. Mainly because I’m a little bit in love with this idiot.

Because his death was about as dramatic as it gets.

Why did he die?
Well, because this guy,

Crown Prince Frederick of Prussia, had some problems with his dad.

More under the cut.

Keep reading

Nonbinary people are hurting real trans people

I don’t pass as well as I would like, sometimes people see me as a boy and others they see me as a girl. Sometimes they’ll ask me which one I am and when I say I’m a boy with my ridiculously high-pitched voice they will sometimes ask me if I’m trans. Up until this point I am treated like a normal person then when I answer yes, I feel if I lie they will know I lied, they will stop and go “ oh, you’re one of kids who thinks there is like 200 genders.” I then have to try to explained to this person that I in fact do not believe there are a million genders and I am actually suffering with my gender and it’s not something I’ve made up for fun. After this the conversation can go one of three ways, it may end, they go “ oh, sorry” then the conversation ends, or they say something the “trans” community on Tumblr says constantly, E.G.: “I thought you didn’t need dysphoria”, “why would you hate your body I’ve heard most trans people love themselves”, ect. “Non-binary” people are not helping trans people with there propaganda. Many people actually dislike real trans people more now because of non binary people. As a high school student I constantly hear jokes about trans people and their 40000000000 genders but as an actual tans person it weird to know these people might actually support me if they knew the difference between a trans person and a person who is confused about gender roles and whether they’re more of a masculine or feminine person. Real trans people have dysphoria. Real trans people are not happy to be trans, they may have accepted it and even take pride in it but they never are truly happy to have a medical condition that makes them feel as if they aren’t truly themselves in their own body. Real trans people don’t celebrate the parts of their body that make them look like the second they were born. No trans guy wants people to know he has tits or wide hips or a vagina. No trans girl wants people to know she has a flat chest and narrow hips and a penis. They are not prions of these things and non-binary people who post about how much they love their body and love being trans are spending lies to everyone without the condition. No trans person wanted to be trans and no trans person wants to be seen as trans; they want to be seen as they gender their brain tells them they are. These people have turned a medical condition into a fucking meme; if they want to complain about oppression then they should complain about what they have done to real trans people. Trans people around my age are suffering because these people want to wear button downs and skirts to claim that they’re a new gender. I can’t begin to imagine how the trans kids in 10 years are going to be treated because of what non-binary people are doing now. I don’t understand how people who claim to be non-binary or even GNC don’t see how they are hurting real trans people. If people want to continue to call themselves non binary that’s fine, but don’t claim to be transgender and to understand their struggles especially if you claim you don’t need dysphoria and that you love “your trans body”.

So I recently noticed I hit 200 followers here on tumblr which is awesome! Especially considering I don’t post here often. I know some of you come from imlovedavestrider but I’m thankful for you all. I’m at about 750 followers on Instagram, almost 200 fans on musically, almost 100 likes on Facebook, and almost 100 subscribers on youtube which is ridiculous because I don’t post anywhere ever I’m pretty sure, but this is really great and I’m really happy.

But on that note, there’s something I want to address. As I’ve grown a bit as a cosplayer in terms of a following, I’ve recieved a few comments about my shape. Most specifically my lower stomach area. And I wanna address this widely. Stuff said (and it hasn’t happened often, but enough for me to want to bring it to attention) generally revolves around the little pooch I have on my lower stomach. I really only have a few notes about this.

1. First of all: it literally doesn’t matter. I can cosplay whoever I want no matter what I look like, and I will look all hells of fine doing so. Nobody has any right to tell any of you not to cosplay anyone. This is a common topic in the cosplay community so I won’t touch on it too much.

2. Most afab people have a bit of a pooch there. For some its more noticeable. For others it’s less so. Society conditioned us to think having such is bad, but it’s natural and healthy.

3. Don’t tell me “maybe you should work out more” or “spend more time on your stomach.” I will admit I’m not the most active person for a variety of reasons and may not be the most toned muscled person. Nor may I be the healthiest person overall. But do *not* tell me that I should try to minimize my stomach because it looks less worked on than the rest of my body. Wanna know what I work out least? My arms. Not my stomach. “You have great legs and curves, but that muffintop ruins it” yanno what? I know! My lower stomach is something I have struggled with for almost 2 years now. You know why? Because I had a fucking tumor growing there for months. That’s hard to reverse, no matter how much I exercise. But I’ve also come a long way in loving my body.

Long story short, I don’t care if someone thinks my stomach is unattractive but it’s a big cancer in the cosplay community to have these things being said so often. I’m not even a very big cosplayer and I still get that told to me more often than is necessary at all.

Anyone can cosplay what they want. Period.

This culture of adoring yourself and not being allowed to criticize yourself in any way, shape or form is so bizarre. 

I sometimes feel like talking about weight loss goes like this:

me: I want to lose some weight

tumblr’s FA community: Why? You’re perfect as you are. Love your rolls. Embrace your shortness of breath. Love yourself

me: I do love myself. I just want to be the best version of myself.

tumblr’s FA community: You have internalized fat phobia! Resist it by posting 200 selfies each day. Eat a cake. Love yourself.

me: This conversation isn’t going anywhere.

tumblr’s FA community: You’re perfect as you are. As long as you are fat. Don’t change.

me: Ooookay…. Bye.

It’s possible to love yourself and your body AND still want to lose weight.

thelegendofwastelander  asked:

I don't know if you've done this, but what song from Diamond City Radio would be each companions' favorite?

Thank you so much for the ask @thelegendofwastelander !!
I have been thinking on this for WEEKS okay, I wanted to do a good job on this one. I have a ton of the Fallout 4 songs on my iPhone that I listen to regularly so I’ve been considering lyrics and such as well! So I hope these are good! Some companions were definitely more difficult than others…

Cait:Crazy He Calls Me – Billie Holiday
- I feel like this really embodied Cait like, yeah everyone may think she’s a crazy for being in the combat zone and fighting like that but really she’s a fighter and she’s fighting for your love <3

Codsworth:Way Back Home – Bob Crosby
- What a cute song, just like Codsworth. Like what a guy he stayed and tried to take care of your home for you for over 200 years, this guy would never leave that place, or your side because the Sole survivor is his home <3

Curie:He’s a Demon, He’s a Devil, He’s a Doll – Betty Hutton
- I’ll admit I think this is my favourite song out of the bunch. And I feel like while Curie would fall for someone in her new synth body she might not have fallen for the “proper” person according to scientific data and what the other companions tell her, but she has no choice and loves them regardless.

Danse:Mighty Mighty Man – Roy Brown
- I feel like some people might disagree with this but I think it fits pretty well. I think this song would remind Danse of when he first joined the brotherhood with Cutler and how young a stupid they probably were and how quickly Danse had gotten over the feeling of invincibility when he lost his friend. It’s like a nice nostalgic song I would think.

Deacon:Rocket 69 – Connie Allen
- Idk what other song you could be this is such a nerd song for a huge nerd. Idk I feel like this is just deacon. Using innuendos to get with people cause he’s a lying loser <3

Dogmeat: N/A
- Dogmeat’s favourite song is the Sole Survivor’s favourite song. He likes to wiggle and jump along with Sole to their favourite song.

Hancock:Personality – Johnney Mercer & The Pied Pipers
- PersonaliTIDDY AM I RIGHT???!! Lol but in all seriousness it’s like the play on physical appearance vs personality and think that’s where it hits Hancock hard in the feels, although he does like to just sing this as Personalititties instead <3

MacCready:Pistol Packin’ Mama – Bing Crosby & The Andrew Sisters
- I just liked this one because I’m sure MacCready and particularly a female Sole or friend or really anyone would always have their guns out and pointed at him for being an idiot or some reason or another and he’s always like Whoa, whoa, whoa lady, put the gun down I was only joking!!

Nick:One more Tomorrow – Frankie Clarke
- It’s kind of a sad song. It reminds him of old Nick and Jenny and how after she was killed how Nick kept himself going just one more day, just one more day until he could see her again. And now it’s relevant to Nick how just one more tomorrow, every day he could have just one more tomorrow to help someone out and become his own person without the Old Nick and everyday he’s becoming more and more his own.

Piper:Easy Living – Billie Holiday
- Her favourite song because it’s so relaxing compared to a lot of the songs that are played on Diamond city Radio. Listens to it while she worlds on Publik Occurrences. also because maybe she’s a huge romantic <3

Preston:Sixty Minute Man – Billy Ward & The Dominoes
- What other song could I have picked? He’s like the second in command of the Minutemen and the song is sort of like a second Freedom radio secretly promoting their cause. Know every single word to the song and sings quietly to himself when it comes on.

Strong: N/A
- Strong doesn’t really like the Diamon City Radio station, he much prefers the classical one and thoroughly enjoys beating people to a mush while listening to it off of Sole’s pipboy.

Bonus!Sole Survivor:Wanderer - Dion
- There is literally not one person I’ve met who doesn’t enjoy being a total badass while killing people to this song. This song is fabulous and I’m nearly positive every single Sole Survivor would love it.

X6-88:Atom Bomb Baby – Five Stars
- It’s a secret, he would never admit to liking this song to anyone but he just can’t get over it. Reminds him of how the world went to shit but how he and the institute are still slick and awesome. Likes to listen to this in private while he chomps down on some Fancy Lad snack cakes. He has his secrets.

It seems to me like people use the phrase ‘‘I’m trying to love myself’‘ as a way to not having anyone to criticize what they do.

they: I weigh 200 kilos and get an asthma attack when walking for 200 metres. Here is a selfie of me in my underwear! #fatbabe #fat and fabulous #effyourbeautystandards

me: You can’t walk 200 metres without having an asthma attack??? Maybe you should concentrate on trying to lose some weight and not on posting selfies?

they: Fuck you! I’ve worked really hard to love myself!

me: I’m not saying you shouldn’t love yourself. I’m just saying you should love your body so much you try to be as healthy as you can.

they: oh you’re such a bitch! I can’t be healthy if I don’t love myself as I am! Stop shaming me and fuck off from my post!

me: ….Okay then.

Maybe it‘s just me not getting it, but I’ve never thought that loving myself means treating myself as someone who’s never allowed to be criticized.


This is my body.

I could try to take pictures that make me look thinner or with better lighting, but that would defeat the point of what I’m about to say.

I hold fat in my stomach, my butt could be bigger, and my thighs are fairly large.
I always wear sports bras because I don’t like having a large chest, and I think regular bras make my back look fat.
I occasionally have “armpit fat” when I put my arms down.
My stomach is usually bloated, and I definitely don’t have a 6-pack.
I have this little “roll” on the posterior side of my right leg, where my glutes and hammies meet.
My muscles aren’t the biggest or strongest, and you can’t see them much because I don’t have a low body fat percentage.

There are many things about my body that I want to change, and I’m trying to except them before I do.

But at the same time as I pick myself apart, I overlook everything it does for me.
I am healthy, strong, and happy.
I wake up every morning and fill my lungs with oxygen.
My legs allow me to walk, run, skip, and do what I love to do every day.
I can push my body to it’s limits and utterly exhaust it at the gym 6 days a week, and it ALWAYS recovers and comes back stronger.
It takes in all the food I eat and enjoy and converts it to energy so I can live.

My body is my body. I would love my body at 200 pounds, and I would love it at 120. There is nothing wrong with my body. It does so much for me, and all i can do is critique it.
I am beautiful, inside and out. I have a huge heart, and so many amazing qualities yet I am judged every day for the way I look.
My body is mine, I do what I want with it, and you do whatever you want with yours.
I love my body, and you should too.

Torn to Pieces part 3

Ok so this is long so I’m going to try to add a cut but I don’t know if it’s even possible or works on mobile. I’m trying though!

Hope you guys like this :) it’s emo and long and raw and unedited. I just wanted to post rather than wait.

“…Did you fly all the way here to knock on my door and laugh in my face?!” Frankie was yelling already. Fool. He felt like a fool. How had he allowed hope back into his heart? ‘Ice Queen.’ His mantra when times got tough. That’s what he wanted to be. His aspiration. Because if he could just be a bit more that way, then he wouldn’t have to feel things like this right now. ‘Be fucking Elsa, Frankie. Just fucking let this lunatic go.’ He told himself.

But Frankie couldn’t be an ice queen when his heart was on fire. You couldn’t be passionate, you couldn’t be in love, or in hate, or in any strong feeling or the ice would melt. You had to be even, unfeeling. The idea sounded nice to Frankie, an existence without any possibility of having his heart broken. An existence where he only cared about himself and things others said or did had no effect on him. Hah. Like that would ever happen.

Even right now, he felt like his body was 200 degrees. He was heated and charged and if he was being honest with himself, turned on. He hated that his body reacted this way around Zach, but right now that feeling was only fueling his anger. How dare he give him a hard on at a time like this!?

Frankie poised himself for an answer from Zach. He threw his hand on his hip and tilted his head, preparing to hear whatever hurtful bullshit came out of his mouth. As he watched Zach’s face, he felt his eyes sting and his stomach dropped, the bitchy look on his face faltering.

‘I swear to God, if one fucking tear falls right now!’ His mind screamed, threatening himself with what, he didn’t know.


He had to say something. He had to think of something. He had been quiet for too long. He was panicking. Why had he laughed? Why was he such a spaz? ‘DON’T YELL’ he screamed at himself, begged himself. That’s all he could do, hope that he wouldn’t screw everything up. Because once Zach’s big mouth starts to open, who the fuck knows what is about to come out of it. Even he didn’t know what he was about to say half the time.

That’s how Zach worked. He found life was just long stream of consciousness and he was there to ride it. His reactions were candid, but not always real. Because Zach had almost no inner monologue when he was around other people, he often had to work out his true feelings by saying aloud whatever came to his head. Sometimes he found he agreed with what he’d just said, sometimes he disagreed. But his number one personality trait that allowed him to function like this, without a filter, was his almost complete lack of care. He literally couldn’t give a crap if he hurt people’s feelings when he spoke, so even when he said things he didn’t mean he wouldn’t retract them or try to repair some rando’s bruised ego.

Except he did care about Frankie. For whatever reason, of the hundreds of people that have come in and out of Zach’s life, he cared about Frankie more than anyone else before. Except Peyton. But even this was different. But the fact remained that he truly cared about keeping Frankie in his life and to do that he needed to be the opposite of himself tonight. He needed to think about what he was going to say. THINK! He needed to keep it calm. Because he was already feeling his blood beating faster hearing Frankie’s voice raised. His natural instinct would be to yell right back. But no. That would be horrible. He can’t do that.

He’d been taking too long to answer, and he looked back at Frankie. His hand was on his hip and he looked so… real. This was really him. Not some character in a story. Not some picture on a screen. This was him, and he sure looked bitchy right now. Zach almost smiled but caught it just before it would have enraged Frankie even further. His eyes went wide with relief that he’d had constraint and then he noticed them.

Tears. Two tracks slowly making their way down his cheeks. Zach’s heart clenched and his soul ached and finally he found words. “Oh, babe…” He said, stepping forward and reaching out to wipe them away.

Wrong move.


‘What the fuck? Is he…?’ Frankie had been ignoring the tears, hoping Zach wouldn’t notice them. Wiping them away would have been a dead giveaway but it seems he saw them anyways. Now he was advancing forward in the most tender, sweet way, wanting to wipe them away and it was so sweet, so loving, it made Frankie even angrier. Like throwing a shovel of coal on an engine’s brazier.

He stepped backwards out of Zach’s reach, dragging his arm across his face to dash away the tears. “Don’t touch me!” He hissed. Zach froze, his hands dropping. His face looked anguished.

“Frankie…” He whispered, and then hung his head and ran his fingers through his hair. Frankie narrowed his eyebrows. There was absolutely no way he was going to entertain the idea that was currently going through his mind. He was definitely not going to reach out and run his own fingers through that hair. Definitely not.

“Close the door.” Frankie snapped, turning away from Zach and walking over to stare out the glass pane wall at a dark New York, lit only by the city lights.

“Does that mean I can stay?” Zach asked, closing the door behind him and taking the liberty to kick off his boots.

“It means I don’t want the neighbours to hear me yelling.”

“Does that mean you’re going to yell?”

“I don’t know, Zach!” Frankie snapped back, answering his question by raising his voice.

“I’d deserve it.” This stopped Frankie in his tracks. He snapped his head around, away from the city. Zach was standing four paces away, behind him. What did he mean, he’d deserve it? Frankie’s eyes narrowed and he scrutinized the look on Zach’s face. It looked… contrite. What the hell?

“What the hell are you doing here, Zach?” Frankie sighed. He was suddenly so tired, he didn’t know if he’d be able to take this. He looked unwillingly at Zach’s arms. He so desperately wanted those arms around him. He wanted them to squeeze him and make him feel like everything was better. ‘God, you’re pathetic.’ His brain told him. The same part of his brain that wanted to be an ice queen. ‘Do you have no self respect?’ Frankie felt another tear fall. Sometimes between his brain and his heart, he thought he’d be torn in half as they pulled him in completely different directions.


‘He’s crying because of you!’ His mind screamed, his heart aching along with it for good measure. ‘Do something!’ But he couldn’t reach out to wipe this tear. Seeing Frankie recoil in disgust was too painful. ‘This isn’t about you.’ He reminded himself. It didn’t matter if it was painful for him. He deserved pain. Frankie didn’t want him to wipe his tears right now, that was the only reason that should matter.

“I came because you wouldn’t talk to me.” Zach replied, working hard on his tone. Calm. Even. No yelling. For the love of God, no yelling.

“I wouldn’t talk to you because there is nothing left to talk about. Whatever there was between us, it’s over now Zach. Sorry you wasted a trip.” The words hit like bullets. Zach staggered a little as he struggled to remain upright. No. No. He couldn’t mean it. He was just hurt. He’s just hurt. He couldn’t mean it.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, actually I do mean that, Zach!” Frankie was yelling again. Not good. Not good. “You think you just can come to my apartment unannounced and I’m supposed to be so impressed by you flying all the way here that I’m just going to forget what you said to me?” He paused to sniff and violently wipe away another tear. Zach ached to wipe it for him. For Frankie to allow him to touch him. “Do you remember what you said?” Frankie challenged. Like he didn’t think Zach would remember. Didn’t he know that every word from that awful conversation was etched into his brain irrevocably?

“I know what I said.” He whispered. Frankie huffed at that.

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I was wrong.” This made Frankie pause. His eyes shot to meet Zach’s and they were dark pools of truth. Zach didn’t think anyone could lie under that gaze, least of all himself. Zach stared back, entranced. He kept his eyes open wide, returning the stare, willing the truth to seep through. For Frankie to know he wasn’t lying.


Zach was boldly returning Frankie’s stare, as if to dare him to call him a liar. Frankie was so confused. His eyes darted down to those full lips but then back to his eyes a fraction of a second later. He hoped Zach hadn’t noticed. His mind was already screaming at him for doing it. ‘MAD’ He reminded himself.

And what did he mean, he was wrong? What kind of bullshit was this? If he was wrong, why had he said it? Why had it taken him so long to admit it? Why was Frankie so damned hopeful all of a sudden? His heart threated to melt the ice that his brain was building as armour around him. To protect him from the inevitable pain that was going to be caused here tonight. There’s no way he could mean what Frankie thought he meant. And even if he did, Frankie would have to have no self esteem at all to go back to someone like Zach. Who had treated him so poorly.

‘He didn’t always treat you poorly’ This voice wasn’t from his icy mind though. This came from his heart and he felt his whole body warm. He was looking at Zach skeptically as his mind and heart raged for control of his body and must have taken a while to answer because Zach continued, looking awkward and regretful, and so, so precious. It was killing Frankie to keep his distance.

“I was wrong, Frankie. I was wrong about everything—“

“Stop.” Frankie couldn’t bear to hear this. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t real.

“If I could stop I wouldn’t be here, Frankie.” Zach said, his face twisting as tears welled in his eyes. They spilled down his cheeks a moment later but he maintained eye contact. His face gave Frankie chills. It was like a ghost of the Zach he knew. His eyes looked hollow and there were dark purple bags under them. He was pale. More than anything, he looked tired. So tired. ‘What the hell happened to him?’ He wondered, and for a moment Frankie found himself distracted by his concern for Zach. A moment later his brain stepped in and shut that shit down.

“What does that even mean? Tell me what you’re doing here. You were wrong? About what. You know what? No, it doesn’t even matter!” He snapped, turning away from Zach and pacing the room before coming back. Zach was standing still, looking terrified. Frankie could see his brain working behind his eyes. He was trying to think. Frankie wanted to know why he cared so much, but he couldn’t ask. It was a power game, and if they were going to become ex-friends or worse, enemies, Frankie couldn’t couldn’t ask questions like that. ‘ICE QUEEN.’ His mind urged. But the sad, broken look on Zach’s face was testing his limits.

“Well let me tell you anyways.” Zach said, more forcefully than Frankie was expecting. Frankie at first had expected an epic rager of a fight, but then seeing this new, broken Zach he had thought it would go the way of sad beaten puppy, but this was neither. He wasn’t fighting, but he wasn’t rolling over, either. Frankie was unwillingly intrigued.

“Nothing you say could matter at this point, Zach. But go on.” He decided to goad him a little. See how much he really wanted this. Zach stood a little taller and seemed to square his shoulders, as if bracing to face something difficult. Frankie found himself very curious as to what he was going to say.


Zach took a deep breath. This was it. This was where he would have to jump in feet first and just hope that he landed safely. He needed to take this risk, there was no option after the past few days, and the months before them if he was being honest. He had to confront these feelings sooner or later. And he still didn’t fully understand them or know what they meant but he needed to figure out with Frankie. Now, or he would lose the opportunity forever. Except he didn’t know if it was too late now or not.

“What wasn’t I wrong about? I was wrong about everything, Frankie. You name it, I was wrong. I fucked everything up. I ruined everything and I don’t know if I can fix it but I had to fucking try, you know? So I spent all my money to fly here and see you because this is where I needed to be. I was dying. You probably don’t believe me but I was so fucking low, Frankie. When I thought I lost you… So I came here…” He ran his fingers through his hair again as his eyes reconnected with Frankie’s. Frankie looked… scared? Was that it? Not mad, definitely not happy. Scared. It almost derailed his train of thought but he knew he still has more left to say.

“I came here because I needed you to hear me out. I needed you to listen. Where you can’t just hang up on me. I love you, Frankie. I’ve said it before but you have to know how much I mean it. I LOVE you. I’m IN love with you.”

Frankie stood there in shock. His mouth was open in disbelief as he looked at Zach with furrowed brows. “You’re…?” He choked out in seeming disbelief.

“I’m in love with you Frankie. The thought of my life without you left me so sick I haven’t slept in days. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please… just give me another chance. Everything will be different, I promise.” Zach felt the tears as they poured down his cheeks but he just left them. His shirt was tear soaked anyway, it didn’t matter.


Did he just? Did that just? What just happened? Frankie’s mind desperately tried to put the pieces together. What was happening? Why was he saying these things? Were they real? In love with him? Did this change anything? ‘NO!’ his mind screamed. ‘YES!’ his heart screamed. It was like he was being torn in two. Frankie sided with disbelief.

“You can never just let me go, can you? This is just you keeping me on your line as usual. You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that Zach?” Frankie said the words because his brain wanted him to but his heart was aching. It was breaking seeing the obvious pain Zach was in, it was and aching to be allowed to fully and completely love this man in front of him. Except he couldn’t. Could he?

“No, Frankie, I swear! I promise, I’m all in. I realize now, I’m in love with you Frankie, I need to be with you. I fought it before because I wasn’t sure and I wasn’t going to make such a big move if I wasn’t 100% sure, but I am now.” He seemed so sincere. Frankie wanted to believe him. If he reached out his hand right now, Zach would take it. They would embrace and Frankie could feel the warmth of his body and the thought was just so damned comforting it was like a bucket of ice water was thrown over him when his brain stepped back into the picture.

‘Too late!’ His mind said. It was too late. Even if what Zach was saying was real, it was too late. He had made Frankie into a fool. Frankie had one rule. Just one. Never let anyone make a fool of him. And if they did, NEVER let them do it twice. It’s why he hadn’t been in love for so many years. Why he hadn’t allowed himself to. He’d never opened himself up as much as he did in that relationship, and in the end he had come out looking the biggest idiot that ever lived. He’d been made a fool of. It was humiliating, hideously painful, and traumatizing. It couldn’t happen again. This rule was iron clad. If anyone ever dared make a fool of him, he would cut their ass so fast they’d never get the chance to again. Zach had already lost his chance.

“It’s too late, Zach.” Frankie said, trying to make his voice ice cold, hoping Zach couldn’t see him shaking. Hoping that he would ignore the tears that were running freely down his cheeks. “It’s too late for us. We can’t go back. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

The words were hard to say. Frankie’s heart shattered into a dozen pieces as they left his lips while his brain watched on smugly. He was not, however, expecting Zach to crumple to the floor in sobbing hysterics.


“NO!” Zach wailed as he pounded the floor. Looking back up he squinted through stinging tear soaked eyes, looking for Frankie’s face. “PLEASE, Frankie. PLEASE. I can’t live without you. I can’t I’ll die.” He was sobbing now, uncontrollably. Zach was mortified but he couldn’t help himself. And it didn’t matter anyways because if he couldn’t convince him right here, right now, he was going to be out of his life anyways. His head hung as he felt utterly defeated.

“Zach…” Frankie said. It was like he was telling him to stop but something in his voice made Zach’s head snap up. It was warm again. His face looked like he was in agony. He didn’t move to come forward or touch him, but his voice left an opening. A tiny crack of an opening, but an opening. Slowly, Zach worked his way back to his feet. He was still crying but the sobs were slowing down.

“Just give me a chance to show you. P-please, Frankie. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m not fucking lying to myself and the world anymore. I mean it. Let me show you.” Frankie was crying now, in earnest. Sobs were building and his face was contorted and the tears spilled town his cheeks unchecked. The sight was killing Zach. His heart broke knowing he was the one putting those tears there. He couldn’t help it, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Frankie.

For half a glorious moment, he felt Frankie melt into his embrace. But then it was gone and Frankie was pushing him away violently. “No!” he screamed. “I can’t trust you!” And then Frankie hit him. Hard. In the chest. And then again. Frankie started swinging his arms as he cried and sobbed. “You’ll make a fool of me!” He sobbed. The hits kept coming and landing and Zach just stood there, taking them. Not blocking. Not fighting back. Just taking every hit that Frankie wanted to give him because he deserved them. Because he wanted to show Frankie he was done fighting him. And if Zach was being totally honest, it was cathartic. It was what he needed.

After what he’d done, the pain felt good.


Somehow, and he wasn’t really quite sure how, Frankie found himself pounding on Zach. He was hitting him again and again and he was just taking every hit with this look on his face. This sad, loving look on his face. The amazing thing was, as the hits landed, Frankie felt his frustrations leaking away. The hate seemed less strong. The trust seemed to grow. He was, after all, being beaten up and not fighting back. He must love him.

The physical release seemed to be working as a mental one too and he seemed to be letting go of all the crazy thoughts in his heads. The thoughts of pride and ego and the ice queen in his mind seemed to be retreating to her fortress deep in the recesses, where she belonged. His heart seemed to be swelling in size as he finally dropped his hands and began to quietly cry.

A moment later he felt Zach’s arms around him and he melted into the embrace. He allowed it. He was allowing it. This was him, giving in. But he was scared. He was so scared. Could he really let this happen? The ball was completely in Zach’s court, now. He could completely devastate him now, if he really wanted to.

What was he getting himself into?


Zach saw his hands fall and the fight seemed to leave him and at first he was almost disappointed, the pain had made him feel so grounded. But then he saw that look on Frankie’s face and he closed the gap instantly and tried one more time to wrap his arms around him. Frankie needed him. Zach needed to comfort hm.

When Frankie didn’t recoil, when he didn’t fight, Zach felt overjoyed. When he melted into him, Zach felt euphoric. Yes. This was right. This was meant to be. Frankie was made to be in these arms.

Frankie was nuzzling into Zach’s chest and sniffling as his sobs were slowing and Zach just cooed and petted his back and hair comfortingly. They stayed like that for some time, as Frankie’s breathing returned to normal. Then, Zach felt and heard the words that were spoken into his shirt because Frankie was still hiding his face. “You really mean it? You want to be with me? For real?”

“For real. I really mean it.” He said softly into the top of Frankie’s head, finishing with a kiss.

“You might freak out and change your mind. And then—“

“I won’t”

“You could—“

“I won’t.”

“You don’t know.”

“I do.”

“How do you know?” Frankie asked, so quiet Zach could barely hear him. Zach pulled back but kept his hands on Frankie’s shoulders. Holding him so he could look into his eyes.

“Do you see me? I know because I thought I was going to die when I thought we couldn’t be together. I know because I’ve never felt as good as I felt just now, when I had you in my arms. I know because I just KNOW, Frankie! I love you. I don’t think anyone’s ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” He paused, trying to gage the look on Frankie’s face. “Do you believe me?” He asked. He pleaded. Frankie looked like he wanted to say yes. But Zach knew he was too stuck up in his brain, thinking about all the mixed signals Zach had sent over the last five months.

“I don’t know…” Frankie said. And Zach felt his heart constrict. The pain, the fear, the longing on that face that he loved so much was too much for him to bear. There was nothing else to do. He had no other options. He needed to do something. He found himself, not for the first time in his life, speaking without thinking. He didn’t need to think about this anymore.

“Then let me show you.” He breathed, and he pulled Frankie forward into a kiss. Their first kiss.


“Then let me show you.” Zach said, his face soft but serious at the same time. Frankie watched almost in slow motion as Zach moved into his space, his head tilting, and at last their lips connected. They connected. After all these months, Zach’s lips were finally on Frankie’s. And it was home.

This was it, this was everything. This was right, this was perfect, this was… home. It took him a minute but soon Frankie was kissing Zach back and their lips moved sweetly, slowly against each other. Zach was the first to tentatively push his tongue into Frankie’s mouth, as he took the lead in their kiss. A small detached part of Frankie’s mind was surprised by this but very happy so he didn’t question it. He willingly let himself be led down the most sweet, intimate kiss Frankie had ever had in his entire life. What was so different? Why was it so perfect.

Suddenly, Frankie thought he believed in soul mates.


Zach was lost in the kiss that seemed to stretch out over minutes and minutes. His mind was on another world and he felt as light as air as the weight from the past few days seem to shed like it was never there. Except it was there, and Zach felt all the better now that it was gone. In fact, he had never felt better in his entire life. It was like for the first time ever, everything was right. He never wanted the kiss to end.

His hands slowly rubbed up and down along Frankie’s back as they languidly got to know each other’s mouths, dipping closer and closer to his ass each time. He really wanted to squeeze it, so he did. After a few minutes, Zach tasted salt. He knew it was tears but he didn’t know if it was his or Frankie’s because he had begun crying in relief the moment their lips touched.

This. What he was feeling right now. This was real. This was right. This was home. How had he been able to deny it for so long? All those days wasted. Time that they could have been together. Zach was angry and mourned those lost days and deepened their kiss as a result. He needed this. He needed Frankie. And as a result the kiss grew very needy. He moaned into Frankie’s mouth and slipped his hand under Frankie’s shirt, this time rubbing his hand over his bare skin. Frankie returned the moan and then pulled back suddenly. He seemed to shake his head like to clear a daze and he stared deep into Zach’s eyes.

Zach returned the stare, his eyes full of love and wonder. His breathing was heavy and his face must be shiny with saliva but he wasn’t thinking about that. He was thinking about Frankie’s mouth. And Frankie’s body. And what he wanted to do with those things. Frankie cleared his throat, like he was having trouble speaking.

“If you’re not sure, then this is the time to say so.” Zach returned the stare levelly.

“Frankie, I’ve never been more fucking sure about anything in my entire life.” It was true. It was so Goddamned true it hurt.

Frankie nodded. “Then do you want to go be sure about it in my bedroom?” He seemed hopeful, but it also seemed like one last try by Frankie to push him away. To challenge him into backing down. To make sure Zach was for real. Well, he was for real. He was really damn real right now. Zach licked his lips and slowly nodded his head.

Zach didn’t wait for Frankie to lead the way. He knew the way. Without asking, Zach got up and crossed the room towards Frankie’s bedroom. And for a minute, Frankie was too shocked to follow.


Zach got up and walked deliberately across Frankie’s apartment and for a minute, Frankie forgot how to move. Well, he guessed he’d gotten his answer. After a minute, Frankie sprung to his feet and slowly walked across his apartment. Towards his room. Where Zach was waiting. In his room.

And Frankie’s heart soared.


Sooooo… how’d you guys like it? 😊 let me know!!! I will probably do chap 17 of Finally Together next and then a prompt so let me know if you have a good one! I have a few in the bank already.

Link to the epilogue I didn’t expect to write: http://kelbottumbles.tumblr.com/post/106941853457/torn-to-pieces-epilogue
Harry Imagine for anon: You're insecure about your body

(Hey, I hope this is what you asked for… I tried haha! And I want you all to know that it doesn’t matter if you’re skinny or curvy. You’re all beautiful in your own way, and I know that there’s someone out there who will just love you for who you are, and who will love your body too. There are humans who prefer more skinny people, some prefer curvy people and that’s totally fine. Everyone can like whoever they want to like, right? :) xx )

You stand in front of the full length mirror only in your underwear, the bathroom door being locked so that no one would come in. You stare at your body in shock, sadness and even horror. Harry wanted to go swimming with you and the others since it’s so hot outside and you couldn’t find any excuse so you gave in eventually. You and Harry are a couple for almost three months now and he hasn’t seen you naked yet since you two wanted to take things slowly. You didn’t complain though, you don’t even want him to see you like that. You rub your hands over your hipbones and below your chest, seeing how even some ripbones are slightly showing under your skin. If you only didn’t have such a fast metabolism, because you just won’t gain weight. It’s not that you have an eating disorder, you eat so much but still won’t gain a pound. You just want to have some nice curves, just want to have something on your hips.

There’s no way Harry can see you like this in just your bikini.

Soon you are all at the pool, you seeing the girls in their bikinis which cover their beautiful bodys. You decide to just wear an oversized white shirt over your bikini, acting like you don’t wanna get a sunburn again like you ‘always get’.

“Come on, love. That’s stupid..” Harry frowns, trying to change your mind. “I mean, that’s what sunscreen is for. You won’t get a sunburn.”

“But still Harry.” You shake your head. “I don’t wanna risk it.” You try to sound casual so that Harry will just drop it, which he does eventually. But you have a feeling that he still won’t let this just go.

“Will you at least go into the pool with me? This way you can put your shirt off, you definitely aren’t going to get a sunburn in the pool.”

“I just don’t feel like going swimming, okay? I’m not feeling so well.” You try to quickly find an excuse, making him raise his eyebrows in real concern.

“What? Oh.. shall we go inside and get a drink? Maybe it’s because it’s so hot, I don’t know..” You nod, just wanting to get as far away from the pool as possible. You two get a cocktail and sit on a bench a bit farther away from the others to have some privacy. For a while you sit there in silence, just sipping at your drinks. You feel Harry’s eyes practically burning into yours.

“Soo, Y/N..” Harry trails. “Will you please tell me the real reason why you won’t take your shirt off?” Your eyes widen, knowing that Harry won’t believe any of your excuses anymore. You must admit yourself, they were rather stupid. You just shake your head, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Pleaseee?” He asks again, stroking your cheek softly and then pressing a light kiss onto it. You feel your lips tremble before a few tears escape your eyes. Damn.

“Hey, hey.” Harry shakes your shoulders a bit to make you look at him. “Please don’t cry, love. Sssh.” Harry takes you in his arms which you accept gladly, crying into his shoulder quietly. “You don’t have to tell me why you’re uncomfortable with it. I’m sorry if I pressured you.” He whipes your tears away with his thumb and you try to get yourself together. You pull back, sitting across from him. Deciding to be honest with him, you pull your shirt up a bit, showing him your belly.

“I just.. feel like I’m way too skinny. All my bones are showing and I don’t like that, I’m not comfortable with it..” You say and Harry frowns. “I would just really like to have some curves. But nothing works, like I’m already eating so much but I won’t gain any weight.” Harry nods in understandability.

“You know that I love you for you, right?” You nod, sniffing. He pulls you in for a kiss. “I love you either way. I love you like this and would still love you even with I don’t know.. 200 pounds more. But if you really want to change something about your body, like if you are truly uncomfortable with it, then I’ll support you. It’s just because you have a really fast metabolism, that’s why you won’t gain weight. Just as some people who have a really slow metabolism tend to gain weight. It’s not their fault. But you can get help for that from a doctor, it’s a routine.” He smiles at you.

“Thank you, Harry. And I love you, too.” You wrap your arms around his neck and he holds you tight, rubbing your back.

“No need to thank me for that, love. That’s why I’m your boyfriend. Now how about we just go eat something for dinner?” Harry suggests and you nod your head.

“I would really like that.”