Thinspo Imagines

Original/archived

[instanteffingregret]

Most thinspo imagines are so disgustingly unrealistic. look, it's absolutely fine to post thinspo related things but let's not pretend like our goal to be underweight will be a damn success story with a happy ending.

We all should at least aknowledge that ed's are not glamorous and we will never have the energy to get out of bed early with a smile on our fucking faces, if anything, we'd miserably get up for coffee/tea and then go straight back to sleep feeling like hell. we will NOT have the brain power to study, dance our 🌼dAiNtY🌼little bodies around to a stupid vinal all ✨aeshtetically 🎇or be happy everytime we see our reflection with our "perfect" hair and "pOrCliNe" skin. Our friends will NOT be jealous nomatter how many times you tell it to yourself it will be concern and pitty and btw don't go thinkin' clothes shopping with them will make you feel confident. You're trippin'

[beautygardenlife]

For those who asked for more 小红薯/Red Note th1nspøs, I found a way to search for it more effectively. Here you go ♡

[justpeachythxs]

@ananikonovaa

[insidethedemimonde]

i now understand why all the it girls do it. pilates is THAT girl.

[daintiebabie]

in love

[lainna]

[lolurmomwishes]

The diet thread that I found on twt.

There are probably 40 ed diets on this thread w/ high and low restriction but some of these seem too long to be restricting so low so be safe and listen to your body‼️

[lolurmomwishes]

I miscounted there are 77

[anas-friend-nina]

Some people’s 500 calories is fruits and veggies.

Others eat a piece of cake and a couple fries for the day.

Some people drink green tea or coffee to keep them going.

Others drink nothing because they desperately don’t want to break a fast.

Some people tell themselves it’s okay to eat over 1000 calories every now and then, it’s healthy even.

Others cry their soul out for going one calorie over.

Some people exercise regularly, keeping in mind what exercise will best help them get to their “goal.”

Others exercise constantly, because they need to be in the negative calories.

Some people were bullied once or twice or maybe even never for their weight.

Others are bullied relentlessly.

Some people fast no longer than 15 hours.

Others fast for days on end.

Some people start already in the normal range.

Others start in the overweight range.

Some people have never gone to rehab.

Others are in and out of inpatient care constantly.

Some people have tried recovery, and are striving to reach recovery status every day.

Others never want to recover.

But you know what?

All of them have a valid ed.

All of them deserve love, support, and help.

Ed’s do not give a shit about your background, age, gender, weight, race, religion, habits, grades, bringing-up, family, or anything else.

All they care about is controlling you.

[wintryfantasies-deactivated2023]

Beach body

Trigger warning: this post mentions eating disorder behaviors.

Request! I'm really sorry for how long it took to post this.

You pull your blinds open to let the light into your room. It's late-May warm; the last chills of the early spring have disappeared, and the sun shines just right across your town. You gaze out of your window, hand barely resting on your bedside table, as the streets below glow with golden light. The sight is hard to tear your eyes away from, but you eventually turn and walk to your closet.

You slip into a sports bra and capri leggings, pulling the bands tight over your skin, then unroll your yoga mat. The planks and crunches, box dips and goblet squats all fly by now; before you know it, you've been sweating for an hour, your muscles just barely burning under your skin. You jump up, panting slightly, and return to your closet to pick out an outfit before walking down the hall to your bathroom.

You have to do a double take sometimes now when you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror. You'd never imagined that you could be this fit, look this perfect. You turn slightly to the side and run a hand over your thigh, feeling the muscle tighten as you stretch out your leg, then turn on the shower. It's finally warm enough for a shower that doesn't fog up the mirror; you watch your body as you shimmy out of your workout clothes. All of the lines, glowing in the sun. You're gorgeous.

After your shower, once you're dressed, you do your hair (messy bun, because it's practically illegal to wear it down on days like today), grab some fruit and yogurt, and sit down for breakfast. You slice your peach and strawberries while watching the rest of your street wake up out of your window. By the time you've chewed each bite, you can see your neighbors beginning to walk out of their doors, their dogs' leashes trailing behind them. You get up and stretch a little, then wash your bowl and, after a few more minutes of watching foot traffic, you walk down your stairs and go outside.

There's an occasional whisper of wind to cut the humidity in the air, and you smile a little as you breathe it in. Your hair is just the right amount of tousle, just the right amount of control, and the breeze blows occasional stray strands out of your eyes. You wander aimlessly until you reach the beach; you always seem to turn up here, somehow or other, when you go walking.

You stand at the edge of the beach for ten minutes or so, lost in the warmth and light and beauty. Every so often, the sun catches the crest of a wave, and you can see it glow gold as the sea breeze blows in onto your face. This is the sliver of time in which it's warm enough to enjoy the beach, but it's not quite peak season yet. Although there are already a few vacationers here, in a week or so, people from the city will start flooding your town.

This summer, though, you're not dreading it as much as you usually do. These few May days used to be the only time that you would dare to go to the beach at all; you would always hide inside once things got busy, or sweat in the sun in some baggy shirt until you gave up and went home. But you don't mind eyes on you now. Even when your neighbors glance at your waist, or when you're wearing a tank top, you don't feel like you need to shrink into yourself. Your frame is finally small and slender, appropriately tiny; you no longer look like you've been squashed down until a few bulges of fat pop out.

Even now, even with your perfectly cut blue tee, you feel yourself beginning to sweat a little as the sun climbs higher and higher. You look at the sea, then at the handful of families setting up on the beach, then over to your house. You can go swimming; why wouldn't you be able to go swimming? You've never gone into the sea here above your ankles; anything more would require exposing yourself to a thousand eyes, feeling yourself being sharply judged. But you don't need to worry about that anymore.

You run back to your house, grinning in anticipation. You bought a tiny bikini a while ago, when it would have still been a size or two too small. Of course it fits you now; you pull it on quickly, throw your clothes back on top, and run back down to the beach with sunscreen and a towel.

You pull off your low-rise chucks as you get to the sand, kneeling down to pick them up and continuing forward in one smooth motion. You want to get in the water; you want to feel the sea around you without hating your body for the first time in your life. You slip out of your clothes, and slap some sunscreen onto your shoulders, and run towards the waves, not caring how silly you feel because you'll look adorable no matter what.

The water is better than anything that you could have imagined during all your years of hiding. Atlantic-Ocean cool, smelling of salt, letting you float and dive. You pull yourself through the water, trying to draw from when you first learnt to swim years ago, laughing and laughing as you bob around. You're not dreading this summer's tourist rush. In fact, you can't wait. You look down at your legs swinging through the water and you feel like you're going to burst with happiness. This is your summer.

[wintryfantasies-deactivated2023]

Christmas Morning

Trigger warning: This post mentions eating disorder behaviors.

Request! I'm so, so sorry about both the ridiculously long wait and the repeated false promises of imminent publishing; I'm a genuinely useless person.

It's early. Earlier than you've ever woken up on Christmas, earlier than you ever used to wake up at all. You walk quietly to the living room and place a few gifts under the tree, books and that game your cousin had asked for. The wind picks up a bit outside; you walk to the window and let your eyes follow the occasional snowflakes down to the ground.

Your pajama sleeve slips down over your wrist as you press your fingertips against the glass; when you start to feel the cold and pull your hands away, you can see your fingerprints in the window's frost. You stand back, smiling at the shiver of goosebumps down your arm.

You wander into the kitchen and pull a cookbook from the shelf, flipping through the slightly stained pages. Your mom had been talking vaguely last night about buying pastries for breakfast; now that you're up, you might as well make some homemade versions instead.

You land on a muffin recipe, winter-cozy with brown sugar, cranberries, and nutmeg, and begin pulling ingredients from the shelves. Soon the warmth of the oven, the scent of the spices, the dusty flour landing in the bowl, surround you.

With the batter stirred together, dropped into the tins, and in the oven, you tiptoe out of the kitchen again. Walking lightly across the floors to avoid creaks, you slip back into your room and draw the curtains to let in the first glimmers of wintry morning light. You change into your clothes, straight-leg jeans and an ugly sweater featuring a mustachioed penguin; both items land just close enough to your body to frame your slender figure.

Having tilted your head this way and that in the mirror to catch the angles of your face, you slide into a seat with a book. Relaxing feels like the Christmassy thing to do; you've finally reached the point at which you can take a break without hating yourself for it, at which you're too perfect to feel guilty.

You're snapped out of your reverie by the scent of spices. Running on tiptoes back to the kitchen, you open the oven door just in time to save your muffins from near-burning. They cool, golden-brown and craggy, on a rack as you make yourself some tea and return to your book. Before you know it, an hour's passed; you've been lost in the smell of baking and the feeling of pages in your hand and the light of the slowly rising sun. And in a few more minutes, your family starts to wake up.

You dole out still-warm muffins to your cousins and parents, sitting at the table and chatting over nothing in particular. As you talk, you nibble at a single muffin yourself, smiling at the flavors that you would have never noticed by wolfing it down.

You finish the last bite of your muffin as your relatives place the last presents under the tree, and you all sit down on the rug to open them together. People thank you, hug you, laugh with you as they see your gifts to them; finally, you're left with the last unopened present.

Carefully, ever-so-slowly, you run your nail under the tape, pull away the wrapping paper, and open the box. You gasp slightly as you're greeted with a delicate, ethereal blouse, carefully wrapped in tissue paper. "It seemed perfect for you - or actually, you seemed perfect for it," your mom says. You look up at her and smile.

[malisoun-deactivated20200727]

How do you fall back in love with life?

clean your room.  clean space, uncluttered space, space that doesn’t have miasma clinging to it can work wonders.  clean the dishes.  sweep.  take out the trash.  peel the clothes off the floor and wash them, and then actually fold/hang them.  take a long shower.  scrub behind your knees.  brush your teeth.  (this can be utterly exhausting, but try to get it done in a day, if you can.  the end result is worth it.)

pull out your notebook.  it doesn’t need to be a new notebook, but preferably one that you don’t usually write in, or that you haven’t touched in a while.  fuck moleskins.  the yellow legal pad will work fine.  sit in your room, or in the park, or in the library, and write a list.  count clouds.  describe all the colors that you see, and note patterns that arise.  sketch the cracks in the walls.  note the shape light makes when it enters a space.  talk about what the air tastes like, smells like.  what sounds are there?  even the white nose, break that down: air planes, fans, cicadas, anything.  remind yourself that you are sitting in the middle of a space brimming with detail.  remind yourself that you are not in nothingness and emptiness.  your world is fathomless.  it has potential.

drink cold water and try to eat something that isn’t processed.  it does not need to be fancy.  buy yourself an apple with the change between your couch cushions.  eat it outside.  if you’re someone who walks, walk somewhere afterwards, just to stretch your legs.  take your fucking meds.  remember that its a good thing that you are inside your body.  your body is a fantastic and endlessly intricate machine, and even though society has smacked a bunch of poisonous ideas on it, that doesn’t change its inherent worth and splendor.  take care of it.

read a novel.  underline your favorite lines, and write phrases that twist your heart inside your chest on the back of your hand with an ink pen.  read a novel like it’s poetry.  read poetry, something decadent but unpretentious.  watch a movie you haven’t seen before.  if there are free art galleries near you, walk through one.  take your time.  let yourself bask.  if there are patterns in what makes your soul ache, write those patterns down – marbles arches or soot crumbling bricks or dandelions or descriptions of dresses or whatever it is, write them down.

your chosen family is important.  remember, they picked you as much as you picked them.  the love has no obligation.  it is given freely and it is given from a place of compassion.  you are not a burden.  if you need to breathe, take a minute by yourself and just exist, but remember to go back to your people.  when they need you, listen and be gracious.  always be gracious.  the universe sometimes remembers things like that.

listen to new music.  link jump on youtube or related artist jump on spotify or ask the chap beside you in the cafe what their favorite band is, and listen to that.  listen to something that you don’t usually listen to.  we tend to tie up a lot of memory with music.  we are falling in love again.  the soundtrack needs to be specific to that.  

allow yourself to indulge in romantics.  press flowers in old books.  play movies with subtitles and mouth the words.  dance in your room.  wear something that makes you feel good, even if you wouldn’t wear it in public.  write your chosen family letters, even if you hand deliver them.  write poetry, even awful poetry.  revel in its awfulness.  eat dark chocolate and when your chosen family want to go out, try to go out with them sometimes, even if its just to the market.  

[eelao]

End of Summer Imagine

You slowly wake up underneath a mountain of fluffy blankets, soft and warm against your smooth, taut skin. It’s the first chilly morning of September, and you get an exhilarating chill when you sit up and pull the covers off your tiny frame. You slide into your new fuzzy slippers and wrap yourself with a delicate robe to keep the cool air off your skin. You look at clock on the bedside table - 5:45 am. You smile as you remember how hard it used to be to motivate your lazy and sluggish body to get up on time, but now you couldn’t imagine your life without your long mornings.

You walk past your mirror on your way to the scale, and admire the long, thin silhouettes of your legs through the sheer robe. You indulge yourself by standing in front of the mirror a little longer, watching how your legs do not touch no matter how you move them, and how your thighs keep their firm shape and don’t bounce or jiggle. You quickly smile to yourself, and move on to the scale.

You take off your slippers before stepping on the scale, but not your robe, or your new lacy black panties. You used to make sure to remove anything that could add weight to that already hideous number, but now you have no reason to worry about such things. You step on, see your ultimate goal weight, and lightly step off. Just as you thought, there was no way you could have gained with your perfectly small and mindful diet. You slip back in your slippers as your dainty feet have already started to get cold, and you head to your kitchen.

After brewing a cup of coffee, pouring it into your favorite mug, and adding a sprinkle of cinnamon, you sit on the alcove and watch the morning rain as you drink your coffee. You still have plenty of time to enjoy a light morning workout, some yoga, and a relaxing shower. You look down at your body, all curled up in a precious little ball with your knees tucked tightly into your chest, leaving a small gap between your thighs and concave stomach. You sigh, relieved, as you think back on what you had gone through to get to this point. 

You then start wondering about today’s outfit. Your entire wardrobe is brand new, as all of your old clothes swallowed your teeny body whole. You get a small rush of excitement when you realize that you can wear your new high-waisted skinny jeans and that cropped sweater now that it’s finally chilly outside. You let out an excited squeak, put down your empty coffee cup, and run upstairs to your closet without making a sound. You throw on your planned outfit, and step in front of the mirror. Beautiful.

[slimmthiccinabitxx]

Thinspo Imagine #1: The Beginning of Fall

It was around 7 in the morning when the sun woke you up. It danced across your sheets and your desk, earning a soft groan from you as you slowly woke up. The sheets draped over your dainty body, slipping down over your shoulders as you sat up. Your hands sat in your lap, bundling up the blanket a bit as you looked out the window at a beautiful morning.

After admiring the view a little bit, you slipped out of bed, one thin leg after the other. Your soft pajamas draped over your lithe figure, truly accentuating how petite you were. They sagged a bit around your tiny waist and the sleeves stopped past the palm of your hand. You looked so tiny in them, swallowed by the soft fabric.

You padded to the bathroom and stripped, stepping on the scale, before smiling to yourself. Almost there.

You took a quick, hot shower, relishing in the feeling of each bone of your body as you skimmed your hands over yourself. Water pooled slightly in your collarbones and not on rolls of fat.

You were glowing when you got out, and turned around in the mirror. You counted three ribs on each side of your flat stomach, which concaved ever so slightly when you looked at yourself from the side. Your tiny waist filled out into toned thighs with a gap in between, which dipped back in at the knees to long, thin legs. Your thin hands danced around your tiny neck and prominent collars, tracing the sharp curve of your jawline, moving a few strands of wet hair that clung to your cheek. Your eyes looked bigger and your sharp nose was the same red as the apples of your cheeks, accentuating your soft lips and tiny chin.

You spoiled yourself for a few minutes, turning this way and that, looking at every curve and dip of your body. Finally, when the water sticking to your frame sent a chill through you, a silk robe was pulled up and over your shoulders. Silently, you left the bathroom.

You walked to your closet and opened the sliding door. You watched your thin fingers as they gripped the white wood.

As you had lost weight, you slowly added more and more clothes to your closet. Flowy tops, cute jeans, sweet skirts. Wearing them was a reward in and of itself, once you were able to fit into them. You looked cute and fragile in some, skinny and sharp in others. They each had their own style - and a place in your heart. They were the biggest sign of your progress.

You slipped into a cute, creme colored long sleeve top, relishing in the comfortable feel of the thin, flowy fabric. Your legs were hugged by dark blue, high-wasited jeans that you slid into perfectly. Simple gold bracelets sat on your wrists, and a thin gold chain around your neck.

You looked killer, and posed a bit. The jeans acentuated your thigh gap and thin, lean legs as well as your cinched waist, while the shirt hung low enough to reveal your collarbone, draping off of you in a way that showed how small you were underneath. Your hands were lithe and dainty, your skin fresh and clear.

You moved to your window, spreading the curtains and pulling the sliding glass open. Birds sang and danced around each other, and the hints of city life teemed in the few people walking along the sidewalk. You adored the city. Maple trees grew along the road and charming shops filled the empty space between tall buildings.

The wind blew, billowing the silk curtins out around you as you took in a deep breath. The cool air filled your lungs so beautifully, and your bright eyes fluttered closed.

All your hard work, all the long night curled up in your bed, ignoring hunger pains. Forcing awful-tasting teas down your throat. Losing and gaining, working out until you colapsed, sleeping through the day and binging at night. Your journey was so hard, with just as many downs as there were ups.

But you kept at it, holding on to the dream of a brighter future. Your binges grew smaller and fewer. You coud last longer without food, and it took less for you to feel full. The barest of muscle formed, and working out was less of a chore and more of a hobby. People started commenting on your figure. It was euphoric, fitting into your first XS pair of jeans.

You opened your eyes again, watching the green trees sway in the breeze. They were showing the first hints of autumn, a few crisp leaves turning to the color of honey and roses.

For the first time in a while, you realised, you were happy with where you were.

[irrobyn]

Do you want to go back to school and be the same way you left? While others are wearing their cute skirts and croptops or shorts and you’re once again wearing a hoodie? NO guys and girls we’re going to get skinny! We’re going to shock everyone, get people’s heads turning! People will watch with envy wondering your secret, or maybe they’ll look the other way not even giving you a peace of mind..... it’s your choice

[val-is-not-thin-blog]

Imagine...

You finally look like all the female rock-stars on stage. Your heroine-addict figure is a grunge icon. You look bad-ass and beautiful all at once. Everything you wear is baggy, and it looks so damn good. You’re envied for how unique you look. You are a beautiful mess, and you love it. Your ribs only add to how fucking sweet you look. Finally, you look like all those girls in all those songs written by those beautiful musicians. 

[ohnoregrettio]

Restaurants Safe Foods Masterpost

Food from my master post, this is just so you don’t have to scroll through the whole thing if you didn’t want to on my masterpost

A&W

Applebees

Arbys

Bojangles

Burger King

Bj’s

Carrabas

Cheddars

Chick-Fil-A

Chilis

Chipotle

Chuck E Cheese

Cici’s

Cracker Barrel

Culivers

Dairy Queen/Orange Julius

Denny’s

Dominos

Dunkin Donuts

Fire House Subs

Five Guys

Fuddruckers

Golden Coral

Hard Rock

In and Out Burger

IHOP

Jasons Deli

KFC

Krispy Kreme

Little Caesers

Krystals

Logans Road House

Long Horn Steak House

McAlisters Deli

McDonalds

Movie Theaters

Olive Garden

Outback Steak House

Panda Express

Panera Bread Co.

Papa Johns

Papa Murphys

Pizza Hut

Popeyes

PF Changs

Red Robins (yuUUMMM)

Ruby Tuesday

Sonic

Steak and Shake

Subway

Taco Bell

Texas Road House

Tim Hortons

Waffle House

Wendy’s

White Castle

Zaxbys

[iwannabeskinnybae123]

Thinspo imagine

You’re walking with your friend from the store. She grabs your hand to pull you to another store but feels how skinny your hand is. She says “You’ve lost weight, a lot of weight”. You shrug and you walk to the store. You see skinny girls (who weren’t as skinny as you). Your friend says “I wish I was as skinny as them”. You laugh thinking about how much skinnier you are than them.

I