#it's about. the body dysmorphia.

[hekatiane]

I am absolutely radiating. Why can't you see?

[kittykatninja321]

My less popular opinion (and what I believe to be implied by the art in Lost Days) is that rather than waking up in a fully grown body Jason didn’t actually complete his puberty until after his Lazarus pit dip while he was on his murder tour. Imagine you’re tied up in a basement in Berlin getting interrogated by a teenager and his voice is cracking the entire time and if you laugh he’s going to shoot you

[carlyraejepsans]

it's not that I don't think papyrus would dress gnc, I don't think HE thinks he dresses gnc. like you casually bring it up one day while complimenting his new skirt and he corrects you because "AS YOU CAN SEE, I WROTE "COOL DUDE" ON IT WITH A MARKER."

[narratorstrash]

Do you think Cole’s body remained in Yang’s temple? Do you think his body— without a soul to keep it together— solely began rotting away & that’s why he now has a scar? Do you think that’s why it took a minute before he came back to the others in the end of DotD? Do you think he spent that minute regaining his sense of aliveness & steeled himself before returning to his friends?

Do you think his mother felt it when he died in the temple? Do you think she tried desperately, fruitlessly to reach out to him, to comfort him & tell him everything would be okay & embrace him in the afterlife? How do you think she felt when she reached out to hug him only to still be unreachable to him?

Do you think she was proud of him when he went after master Yang with the intention to finish him for good? Was she proud when he saved the trapped students & tried to free their captor despite all the pain & injustice? Do you think she still sat with him while he regained his bearings in the mortal world again, knowing it would likely be even longer before she could possibly get a chance to be with her son again? Do you think she prayed to the FSM for him to live as long as possible despite the pain it brings her?

Does she still dance in the afterlife, even with no partner? Does she still fight for those who can’t & protect the weak? Does she still recall the Geckles & Munts fondly?

Is Lilly still proud of her son?

[alexiahyena]

Take my eyes, take them aside

Take my face, and desecrate

My arms and legs, they get in the way

Close-ups and different lighting under the cut!

When I watched Ep. 3, I felt like this song would fit Zooble perfectly. The desperation on not finding the right parts and feeling hatred towards their body... The lyrics are also very crude and straightforward, literally wanting to tear apart one's body and start over again.

I focused on the last part of the song for this, where the song turns more "repetitive" and emphasizes the dispair and exasperation of feeling uncomfortable with one's body for so long. The last verse is more melancholic, exhausted. Like Zooble trying to find the right parts since the day they arrived to the Circus.

[johnskleats]

Hear me out: Katara with scarred hands.

There are a thousand metas about why this would work narratively, aesthetically, and thematically.

I'm here to talk about that logistically.

I am the lucky recipient of a very inconveniently placed scar, about an inch by a half inch (1 x .5) sized, on the first joint of my index finger. I am an artist. I paint, I write, I sew, I bake.

This is one of the singular most inconvenient places to be scarred activity-wise, in my opinion.

It's super sensitive all the time, even though it's healed. The skin is so thin and there are so many nerves, that the scar being somehow even thinner, is awful from a sensory perspective. I try to grab something and it puts the slightest pressure on the scar? Pain. I flex my finger? Pain. I don't even know if I can describe it as "pain", it's just Sensation and there's A Lot of It. Too much.

Now, aesthetically, as someone who works with their hands, I didn't realize just how distressing having a large, visible scar on my hand would be. I can see it all the time because it wraps around. I'm driving? I can see my scar. I'm cooking? I can see it (and feel it). It's on the first finger I see when I'm holding something, and somehow, it feels like not my hand anymore. It looks wrong, it feels wrong, my hands look like <insert image of my previously unscarred artist hands, which were lovely to behold>.

Zuko gets the benefit of simply avoiding mirrors. If he chances to see his reflection, he gets reminded of just how not himself he looks. He can also see that in people's reactions to his face.

Katara's hand scars, though? She can see them herself. She can't not see them. If she wears gloves, it's not to hide the scars, it's because they're sensation x 100, and the only way to touch things and have it feel somewhat normal and not ouchies is to have some kind of barrier to disperse the pressure.

People see hand scars? It's "oh no, what happened?" It's "got a little brave with the pan, or the knife, huh?" It's "oof, that looks like that hurt," because commenting on peoples face scars is too personal, but making snide comments about hand scars is considered somehow a common area. "How long did it take to heal?" "I can't imagine having scars on my hands" "oh next time be more careful! to avoid hurting myself, I <insert lecture on fire/knife safety here, as though I didn't know those things before and still happened to injure myself because you run that risk every time you use a potentially dangerous thing>".

And my personal favorite, "what a shame, you always had such beautiful hands."

Sigh.

Anyway I hope this helps someone writing a fanfiction about hand scars Katara because woof, there's a lot more going on there beyond just parallels with Zuko. Sifu Hotman would have incredible sympathy for Katara, not just because he has scars too, but because in some ways, having scars he could always see himself might seem worse to him. When he's by himself, he might be able to forget, for a moment, that it's there.

Katara can wear gloves, but people are always going to demand to know why, or for her to take them off, or whatever, and there's never going to be a real way to pretend, even for a second, she isn't scarred. And if she doesn't wear gloves or wrap her hands for sensation's sake, she'll get to see them every time she does anything. And that sucks.

AND ANOTHER THING:

it is always dry and flaking. Always. It's soooo dry I have to moisturize it several times a day. It helps with pain and mobility. Byyye

[cottonfeltgembira]

Stealing the famous au version of Bill, chucking him into my machine and spitting out my fun pseudo twins from another reality agenda

Basically uhhh Will is more conceptually his opposite (order and chaos, truth and lies, manic and depressive, anger issues and repressed anger... Yay!)

Will is actively atoning for his wrong doing (detsroying his version of Euclydia) and learns about Bill and this version of him scares him because it reminds him of the monster he is (and the even worse monster he could be) that Bill brings out Will's own anger at himself onto Bill

Which is why he's been on a witch hunt to kill bill and then his own self but uh. Doesn't happen as he starts to reflect and see Bill as a brother (oopsies)

(I'm calling this the cipher twins au until uhhh I get a better name cause they aren't twins biologically... You've heard of brother from another mother get ready for....Twin from another reality...?)

[ibrithir-was-here]

Rosemary is for Remembrance Part 5

Part 1

Part 4

Part 6

[athina-blaine]

kabru's relationship with his eyes makes for suuuuuch a fantastic trans allegory (an aspect of your body alienating you from your community, being compelled to understand the perspective of someone who also has a complicated relationship with their body in the hopes that you'll better understand your own, people straight up misunderstanding biology) it makes me kind of insane because now I feel like I can't dig into any complicated feelings he might have about his body in relation to his gender without feeling like im just ... double dipping?? like fifjpejgh ryoko kui straight up already told that story in a way that exquisitely fucks??

[tetsuskei]

my favorite trope is your body becoming your faves favorite type because they’re so in love with you and adore you sm

[acid-onthefloor]

looking in the mirror as a trans guy who likes women:

me: i must disassemble this prison of flesh, god hath forsaken me even before the day of my birth, every day within this body feels like a thousand years of torture, i must -

also me: girl pwetty ^-^ boobs <3

[hikeyzz]

tummy n thighs thursday is that a thing ??

[allthegothihopgirls]

jason todd.... parallels.... monster..... frankenstein.... what if...

[uncanny-tranny]

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Transcript:

If you hate your body, do not achieve the body you want out of hate.

I know what you're thinking: starve yourself, run yourself into the ground, faster cardio, no carbs, no sugar.

You're reaching a perceived level of health at the expense of your actual health. If you expedite the process without doing the internal work, you're fucked. Now, I know there's some people who are finally happy and, uh, thinner body and I'm not talking to you, okay? Please, separate yourself from the equation and listen to what I'm saying.

It is so much more rewarding if you just improve your lifestyle. I just got my 10,000 steps on this beautiful day. I didn't do it to burn calories, I did it because I get to. I'm gonna go train legs now, I fucking love squatting and deadlifting! I love being strong! I have more time today, so I'm gonna take my time to cook a delicious, nutritious lunch. I'm not grinding, I'm not fasting, I'm not just having protein. I'm not doing burpees in-between my sets.

When you do this from an extreme standpoint, you're abandoning your quality of life. Therefore, you'll be more resentful. And because you're so resentful, you'll constantly be looking for validation, and it will never be good enough, and you'll be chasing a body that's impossible to reach 'cause your standards are too high. Just chase health! It's so much more rewarding, and you don't have to answer to fucking anybody!

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Can be read platonically or romantically/beginning of relationship.

Summer Celebrations were well underway, and the Lounge was blossoming. The seamless designs of glass walls and cavern arches blending into familiar walls was time staking. Some portions and rooms weren’t exactly symmetrical, and other areas were some interesting shapes but he loves it. He loves the work and painstaking time he put into it.  

Yuu did as well, he knows that. Often finding her simply curled up on the couches facing the tanks and watching the wave of coral and fish. It was one of the reasons she got along so well with all three of them. An appreciation for land, but a fascination with the ocean. Where he found calm and intrigue on the sands, she found it within the waves.  

But he hasn’t found her curled on the couches, or even lingering in the breakrooms. She wasn’t stopping to chat with any coworkers, or even eating during her required breaks. Her jaw was clenched, her smile polite but tight, and she had even snapped at Floyd. She had apologized immediately afterwards, but the point stood.  

Azul thinks he knows exactly what it is, when he sees her fidget with her uniform again as she ran food. Azul thinks he understands exactly.  

It’s the end of the night, and he asks to see her after changing out of her uniform. When she walks in, she looks tired, that’s not unusual. What is the obnoxiously large black hoodie and sweatpants.  

“Ms. Yuu,” Azul starts, setting aside his pen, “Welcome! May I offer you a drink?” 

“I thought we were past the point of pleasantries, Azul.” she sighs, trying to muster a smile. “What do you need?”  

“Very well, to the point then.” He circles to the front of the desk, leaning against the front. “I’ve received some reports of some out of character behavior from you-” 

“Has it impeded my job?” she interrupts.  

“...No.”  

“Have I been harmful to the business or my coworkers?” she asks, hands tight in her pockets. 

“No.” he sighs, crossing his arms. 

“Then you have nothing to worry about and it’ll pass. If that’s all-” 

“Fine!” he snaps, standing fully. “Fine, I’m not asking as your boss. I’m-as your friend. As somebody who-I think what-maybe...” 

“Where’d that silver tongue go, eh?” she laughs but it’s humorless.  

“Oh, hush!” Azul was never good at this part, fixing his glasses “I’m getting there.”  

He looks out the window of the VIP room, into the lounge itself. They both watch the slow movement of a shark across the room. 

“Floyd tells me that he sees you all the time at the gym recently, at least twice a day. I’m guessing that’s where you're going now?” She doesn’t say anything, pulling the hoodie closer to her body. Azul would understand, she thinks, she knows he might, but she doesn’t know if he could handle her like. If she trusts him enough to not use it as blackmail in the future. But if anybody would understand in this college of entitled, take everything for granted- 

“I lost 50 lbs.” He flinches. “I lost it. I gained muscle and strength. I worked. I worked damn hard. I’m proud of the work I have put in. But I’m never-” she looks down at her shoes, “I’m never going to look like people like Floyd or even Deuce. All the extra fucking skin-”  

He nods, feeling his own throat tighten. Yes, nobody mentions how it hangs, how the stretch marks reach for any available surface. That the mirror never looks right compared to what you can do.  

“And I just-It’s not fair. I know life isn’t fucking fair but damn it!” Her hands wave at her figure before just ripping the hoodie off. “When does it get better?” she looks at him, gesturing to her body, “When-” she chokes, gripping at the baggy t-shirt. “When do I finally get to feel beautiful?” 

He pulls her close, her head dropping to his shoulder and muffling the sounds of quiet tears. Tears that he recognizes all too well. His arms go around her waist, rubbing her back and letting her go. It’s not uncomfortable, surprisingly. Even when she hugs him back, arms wrapped his waist, and he doesn’t worry if she can feel his body through the shirt. It’s perhaps the first time that has ever happened.  

“I can’t tell you that.” he whispers. “But I can tell you that I like you regardless. I enjoy you regardless. I will continue to. And that until you can believe so and even after, I will find you absolutely lovely.”  

Yuu nods, and neither of them say anything when they finally separate and there is a wet spot on her shoulder.  

“I will believe for you too.” She whispers, wrapping the hoodie around her waist. 

Azul only smiles softly. There is a small part of him that wants to disregard it or laugh it off. It’s what he’s done with every other person who has ever hinted as much, even the twins. But a smaller part, smaller than the little pot that he grew up in, wants to believe her.  

[hotteststar]

another poem bcs why not?

THAT'S WHAT THEY CALL IT

dysphoria, they call it,

but i think it's an empty name.

when you read it, you don't feel

all the pain that lives behind it.

you don't feel the pain in your chest,

you can't know how much it hurts.

you know nothing about the confusion

that that name can unleash in our hearts.

tell me, do you ever look in the mirror

and see a wrong version of you?

like you wish you were more androgynous,

but still say it's nothing.

you are what's between your legs,

nothing more, nothing less.

you can't change it and you can't switch.

you were born that way, that's it.

and then you start wondering

what it could be like

to be who you truly are, to be born again,

but in the right body this time.

to feel good when you look at your hands,

not to be scared of changing your clothes,

to be able to look at your groin without

that feeling, that lump in your throat.

i was born wrong.

i was born in a body that i don't feel mine.

i was born through a mistake.

i was born, but i don't feel alive.

i watch other people;

they are something i'll never be.

they are confident, strong.

they are so right; they are nothing like me.

'cause i'm wrong.

i am, i know it now; i can try to change it,

but that's still the truth,

even if i lie to myself and everybody else,

i still live in a body that i

don't recognize as mine.