“I’m fat.”

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So, I found you through a friend and it still says requests open.... Anyway, I struggle with my own self worth. I feel like I'm not pretty enough, I'm too big, and I struggle with self harm and dark thoughts. If it's not too much, could you write me a story with Mark? I would appreciate it. Thank you, and if not, I understand ❤

Asked by broken-magus-bride

(This was originally supposed to be a drabble, but it got long. Probably because your request hits close to home for me too. Trigger warnings for internalized fatphobia and self-hate.)


Originally posted by markired

You stare into the mirror, frowning at what you see. Goddamn, why am I so fat? I look like a pig. Fuck, I’ll never get this weight off. I hate this. Maybe I should skip lunch… And maybe dinner too…

Mark happens to pass by your door on his way through the hall, and decides to poke his head in. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Ugh. I look like shit.”

Mark scowls. “No, you don’t! You’re cute!”

“I’m fat.”

“You’re pleasingly plump!” he insists. When you open your mouth, he holds up a hand to stop you. “People come in all shapes and sizes, and there is nothing wrong with you. You look soft and sweet, like a teddy bear. And there is nothing wrong with that.”


“But nothin’! There’s no sense in beating yourself up for something that has too many factors for you to control. There’s genetics, there’s whatever your thyroid happens to be doing, there’s the medications you’re on for other health issues, and all sorts of other stuff. And I know you’re not lazy. I’ve seen you run, and dance, and play basketball with the kids next door. You’ve got some skills. Plus, you eat less than I do!”

You sigh. “You wouldn’t understand…”

“Okay. Maybe I don’t completely. I don’t know exactly how you feel, struggling to find yourself in a world that tells you you’re not good enough just because of some arbitrary numbers on a scale. But I do know you’re an amazing person who deserves all the good things in life. And judging people based on their outward appearance is a shitty thing that way too many people do. Because they’re shitty. You’re not. So don’t ever say you are.”

He takes a breath. “So, we’re going for some pizza.”

“I don’t think I can…”

“I didn’t ask if you could,” he replies. “I said we’re going. Besides, they’ve got a salad bar too. But you’ve gotta promise me you’ll have a slice of pizza and not just the rabbit food, okay?”


He cuts you off. “Eating is one of the pleasures in life. You can be careful about what your body needs without denying yourself. Everything in moderation, y’know?” He shrugs. “Eat salad, but have something you like too. There’s no sense in punishing yourself for being human.”

He grins. “Now, grab your jacket. We’re goin’ to Pizza Hut.”


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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.