Josh Dun imagines

Insecure (weight insecruity)

Josh Dun imagine

You turned in the mirror to get a glimpse of your outfit from yet another angle, frowning at the reflection you saw staring back at you. This was the sixth outfit, maybe the seventh (you'd lost track somewhere along the way) you had tried on for a party you and Josh were going to this evening.
As your eyes scan up and down your body, you couldn't help but notice all the flaws.
"Your thighs look much too big in that skirt," that little voice in the back of your head whispers.
So you change. Again. And again and again and again and again. Nothing in your closet seems to fit right, no matter how many combinations you try. There's always something wrong. Whether it was and unflattering look for your stomach, thighs, breasts, arms, it was always something. There seemed to simply be too much you for anything in your wardrobe.
You begin to become more than just frustrated as the clock ticks past the time you and Josh had wanted to leave. The party started at around eight, but it wasn't a formal event, so you could show up whenever, but you knew Josh was eager to get there. He had been excited about it for weeks, and had been patiently waiting in the living room for you to finish getting ready.
As you become more and more overwhelmed with the insecurities that plagued your mind on a daily basis, you look in the mirror and try to recall soothing words from Josh. He always called you beautiful, never had a bad word to say about your body or any of the clothes you wore. He loved you for you, from your personality to every inch of your body. He made you feel loved. He made you feel wanted. He made you feel beautiful.
But in this moment, it didn't matter. You couldn't convince yourself that his words meant a damn thing.
He's gonna leave you.
They always leave.
He's no different.
He doesn't love you.
He doesn't love you.
He doesn't love you.
How could he?
You're so... fat.
You have to step back from the mirror because you can't bear to look into it any longer. You can feel the tears threatening to spill across your cheeks before you have a chance to stop them. You try desperately to reign in this spiral of panic and self loathing, but it's already gone too far.
Just as you feel yourself crash onto the bed, you hear the soft rap of knuckles on the door.
"Babe? You about ready to go?" you hear Josh ask.
You panic, not wanting him to see you like this, a crying mess dressed in, in your eyes, such an unflattering outfit.
"Um... Yeah, sorry. Just a second," you manage to stutter out in response, but you already know he will be able to tell you're crying by the shakiness in your voice.
You hear the door creak open and you scramble up off the bed and try to make it look like you were trying to find shoes in your closet, your back now to him. There's nothing you can do to clean up the clothes scattered around the room, the obvious aftermath of your anxious search for an outfit that didn't make you feel so insecure.
"Y/N," Josh softly says. It's not like he doesn't know what's going on. This has happened before.
"Yeah," you try your hardest to reply in an enthusiastic tone.
"Can you look at me for a sec?" he continues.
"Um, why? I'm almost done, I'll be out in a second, I promise," you respond as cooly as possible, keeping the tears locked tightly in your throat as you brush past Josh and over to your necklaces, making yourself look busy.
"Y/N..." he starts.
"What?" you say, trying to cover your obvious distress with thin sarcasm.
He walks over to you as your hands move frantically through the jewelry, trying to distract not only Josh, but yourself.
He grabs your wrist lightly and you finally make eye contact with his kind brown eyes.
"Just stop for a minute," he says in a caring voice and you can't bear to maintain the intense eye contact.
Your eyes meet the ground as your lip begins to wobble once again, the tears rolling down your cheeks. Josh pulls you into a tight embrace, softly running his hand up and down your spine and pressing kisses against the top of your head.
"I'm sorry, this is so stupid, I'm being so stupid," you say after a minute, pushing him away lightly.
"Y/N, it's not stupid. Please, just... Talk to me. I can't help you if you shut me out," he says.
"It's just... Nothing fits right and you deserve someone who is so much prettier than me and I just feel so wrong in everything that I try on and you were so excited about his party and now I've gone and ruined it-" you start to ramble, but he interrupts.
"First of all, it is me that will never be good enough for you. Secondly, I promise you, you are beautiful. In every outfit you own, in every setting, lighting, and angle known to man, you are beautiful. And I know that you don't believe me, but I promise I will repeat it every single day until you do. I will be here, for as long as it takes to make you understand how breathtakingly beautiful for are," he says, and it eases your mind slightly, for the moment. "And as for the party, I was excited about it earlier this week, but I'm honestly kind of drained from today's writing session, so why don't we just stay in?"
You feel a weight lifted off your chest at the suggestion of not going to the party. It is replaced by a smaller weight of guilt for making him cancel plans, along with some defeat that tonight you weren't able to beat insecurity and go out, but nonetheless, relief floods your body.
"Thank you," is all you can whisper as he gently leads you over to your dresser and you both change into more comfortable clothes for a night of relaxing on the couch.
You are far from self love when it comes to your body, but even so, you know that no matter what that voice in your head tells you, you'll always have Josh there to make you feel loved.

Credit to twentyonefics on Tumblr