#something something hue dysphoria

[terrorbrigade]

i wish i could be just like you. i wish i could be anything else

[weirdstuffinthewoods]

Jane Schoenbrun and the Screen Trilogy

Director Jane Schoenbrun’s “Screen Trilogy” seems set to define a period that feels deeply personal to those whose adolescence was shaped by the meteoric rise of the internet and the isolating comfort of technology.

Using a cohesive blend of glowing cool-toned hues, long, lingering shots, and scores and soundtracks that perfectly evoke teen ennui and lonely melancholy, Schoenbrun has used the allure of the screen to craft dreamlike meditations on identity, isolation, and transness that leave viewers feeling so seen.

A quick glance at the tumblr tag, letterboxd reviews, or TikTok videos shows one common thread: Thank you, Jane. And it's well-earned from the beginning. (More under the cut)

With the first installment of the Screen Trilogy, Schoenbrun tackles the questioning of identity through fears generated from unrestricted childhood internet access (something that usually gave the millennial generation something we can never unsee). we’re all going to the world’s fair follows Casey, a teen who partakes in the viral World’s Fair Challenge that leads to an ambiguous separation of self that leaves the audience questioning whether Casey was truly losing herself or merely participating in an elaborate, creepypasta-fueled MMORPG. When speaking about the film with The Hollywood Reporter, Schoenbrun says,

“It really resonated and reminded me of something I went looking for online in my own youth, which was an effort to remove myself from my body and my identity and exist in a space where I could express myself creatively, and perhaps even explore myself personally, outside of ‘the real world.’”

Casey mentions at one point that she can feel herself leaving her body, adding to the overarching theme of dysphoria.

This and many other vulnerable moments are shared through video which is really the only way the audience gets to know Casey, a key piece of information when JLB comes into play. Like us, JLB sees Casey expressing a number of concerning symptoms and thoughts. JLB reaches out to Casey, an adult man reaching out to “save” a teenager he knows nothing about. The adolescents of the internet age know this character all too well.

Between the unspoken disquiet of JLB’s “guardianship” and the time spent with Casey out in the barn in the middle of the night watching ASMR videos with her stuffed lemur, Poe, Schoenbrun’s work reaches out to the kids who, like them, found solace on the internet. We found a world that was bigger than our little towns, we found ways to self-soothe (visual stim videos come to mind as the new ASMR), and sometimes we found people like JLB (we basically made Chris Hansen the hero he is- we love Chris Hansen). For the first time, the isolated, sometimes trans or questioning, internet kid in us felt seen.

Schoenbrun slapped us with nostalgia again in 2024’s I Saw the TV Glow, a magenta-saturated amalgamation of teenage ennui and suburban melancholy that pushes through your ribcage, reaching for your heart without you even noticing until 2/3 of the way through, your frantically beating heart is ripped from your chest among screaming tv static and sparks, leaving you silent in the face of wails of unimaginable pain and need.

Soft-spoken 7th grader Owen meets 9th grader Maddy who’s reading the episode guide for The Pink Opaque- a Buffy-style 90s paranormal teen show Owen has only caught glimpses of, but that he’s totally fascinated with. The two watch an episode together, and as Maddy leaves Owen tape after tape to watch on his own, the pull of The Pink Opaque becomes impossible to ignore.

Schoenbrun is open about it- “I really did live and breathe Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I cared about Buffy more than I cared about my real life”. The same was true for a lot of us. Millennial kids weren’t quite the latchkey kids of the 80s but also weren’t yet the iPad kids of the late 00s. Parents were still learning how to parent and were either too controlling (like Owen’s parents) or too absent (like Maddy’s). Piggybacking on the theme of identity from world’s fair, the kids that didn’t see themselves reflected in popular media or the cliques at school would become masters of escapism, using books, movies, or TV shows like Buffy (it was Charmed for me) to create an inner world where they felt safe, wanted, seen.

Where world’s fair is about the loss and search for identity, I Saw the TV Glow tackles the question of “what next?” What do you do when you know time isn’t moving right, that life isn’t supposed to feel like this? When you learn exactly how to fix it but it sounds absolutely terrifying and insane?

Maddy has no hesitation. “I’m getting out of this town…I’ll die if I stay here. I don’t know how or when exactly, but I know it’s true.” Owen, like Isabel in The Pink Opaque, Maddy says, is afraid of what’s inside him. In Variety, Schoenbrun comments on their differences.

“What we experience through Maddy is this ultimate self-liberation: you have to destroy yourself totally in order to be reborn as who you really are. … Maddy knows that there’s somewhere where she can be full and it’s not worth staying in this place.”

The film encloses a number of deeply disturbing, viscerally upsetting scenes in monologues that connect the audience with feelings of dysphoria, of the disjointed way trans people experience time, and the fear of that time running out in conjunction with the fear of the future. Like world’s fair, the conclusion is ambiguous, but more hopeful in its way. It acknowledges the pain, the fear, the sheer exhaustion of transitioning, but proves it as a method of survival, and reassures the audience, “there is still time”, before leaving them with a cut to pink static where they can cry it out to some Frances Quinlan.

Not too much is known about their third installment, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, but Schoenbrun explains that it both pays homage to and critiques the lineage of trans and queer villains as sexual deviants. The New Yorker sums it up as follows:

“[Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma] follows a queer filmmaker hired to direct a new installment of a long-running slasher franchise. The director fixates on the prospect of casting the “final girl” from the original movie, and the two women descend into a frenzy of psychosexual mania.”

Slated to be gorier and funnier (thank God) than the previous installments, Schoenbrun is now turning to the aftermath of transition and the reclaiming of identity through sex, an important and often overlooked facet of transness. They’ve also sold a book, Public Access Afterworld, originally meant to be a TV show but now taken down in literary form. Schoenbrun hopes it will rival franchises like Sandman or Lord of the Rings in its scope, finally giving trans media an epic of its own.

All this fan can say is I can’t wait.

Sources:

Jane Schoenbrun Finds Horror Close to Home | The New Yorker

'I Saw the TV Glow' Director Jane Schoenbrun on A24 Film's Trans Meaning (variety.com)

How We’re All Going to the World’s Fair Grew Out of Internet’s Subconscious (hollywoodreporter.com)

[actualbird]

Zak this is a personal ask, I completely understand if you don’t answer to it and it is fine GENUINELY *sobbign*. I just wanted to ask how did you found out about being trans? then what did you do about it? I still feel dysphoric and still getting comfortable I currently identify as non binary (amab) but I want to dress classy and elegant though no clothes match my figure and I still want to retain a bit of my masculinity yk? Your trans luke fic made me soft hue hue hue.

hi anon!! sorry it took me a while to answer this ask, i wanted to get all my thoughts in order properly ;w;

how i figured out i was trans was a long time coming tbh. i had always had a vague dysphoria with my body ever since i was a kid, only ever wearing hoodies and hiding myself as much as i could. then later, ever since i was in high school, i had this feeling that i Wasnt A Girl and since then i tried out a bunch of different genders. i first went with bigender, because i still felt a connection towards womanhood yet yearned for a stronger connection with masculinity, then for a while i identified as nonbinary all throughout college because i wanted the freedom of just being whatever the hell i wanted to be. but even then, i noticed that i would get the most gender euphoria when i was treated and referred to as a guy, when people called me handsome or used masculine terms to refer to me. then the pandemic happened, and i actually changed the name i went by to zak before i came out as trans. but changing my name and hearing people call me it really solidified for me that what i wanted from the very beginning was to be a guy so i just. did.

i leaned into my name change, i started using he/him pronouns, and as people around me started referring to me like this, i realized that i made the right choice because i felt most like myself than i ever had felt in my whole life.

though i guess it's important to note that even if i am a guy, i still have some connection to what is societally seen as feminine presentation. like, i love crossdressing in a wig and frilly dresses, i love pink, i love cutesy items, etc etc. but i can love those things and still be a guy, because who says that these things should only be for women?

(pictured, me being a frilly pink discord catboy vs me being an edgy colored highlights fuckboy)

overall i have this attitude of like.....my gender expression is what i want it to be, and i can do whatever with it that makes me happiest

i cant give advice for your own situation because at the end of the day, the only person who can figure out your identity and expression is going to be you. but you can do what makes you happiest. if you wanna dress classy, go for it! if you still want to have a connection with masculinity while doing so, hell yeah! you make the rules on how you want to be yourself, so just always keep that in mind. dont let yourself get boxed into categories that limit your self expression. feel free to experiment and try new things and find out what makes you feel most like your authentic self

i hope something in this answer could offer something to you. wishing you all the best, anon!!

edit: check out the replies of this response, there are some fashion reccs for you, anon!!

[the-oceankin-collective]

anon said: appearance tips for sirenkin/general oceankin species dysphoria?? i know a lot of therians wear tails but that doesnt seem like a super viable option … if it helps im more fem presenting

Thank you for the ask! As the resident Siren I'm happy to aid you :)

ID: a text post divider with 5 blue waves varying in hue from light blue to dark blue. Several blue sparkles and emoticon shells line the bottom of the blue waves.

For gear: swimming flippers and actual mermaid tails (with monofin inserts) can be the most euphoric thing ever!

For reference a monofin is like flippers but both your feet go into one large flipper designed to look like a merfolk's tail!

Wear something that flows! A sundress with white and blue to mimic how the ocean looks, something with tassles, or even ear your hair so that it flows in the wind :))

Along with this, use saltwater/ocean themed perfumes or incense/candles!

I hope this helps, we have another post with more SirenKin tips, so if this isn't enough looking there will help :))

Good luck, hope you feel better soon!

- 🧜‍♀️ Mod Pins

[riot-grrlboy]

i have a project in my queer studies class where we write a children’s book here’s what i have so far please let me know what you think

under the cut bc otherwise it’ll be long mwah

it should be noted that i am not doing the illustrations soz

Page one:

In the snowy Northern Penguin Pole,

Where pink-blue penguin babies grow,

A penguin, Pebbles, both at once,

Asked a question sharp and blunt:

“My mom is blue, my dad is pink!

What’s a blue-pink me to think!”

Page two:

Pebbles asked their mom and dad,

Who shook their heads and called them mad,

Said, “You’re a pinky-kind of blue!”

What’s a pink-blue chick to do?

So Pebbles ran, and played, and slid, (picture of a penguin sliding down a snowy hill)

And acted like a pure-blue kid.

She saw her grandma and her friends,

But after all, at the day’s end

She saw herself a bluey-pink.

“What’s a thing like me to think…” (picture of a penguin experiencing gender dysphoria)

Page 3:

Pebbles waddled, confused that day

While the pink and blue would laugh and play

For they knew something to be true:

“I am neither pink nor blue!” (picture of an ostracized penguin screaming in a crowd of other penguins?)

No words for purple did exist

So the blue-pink label would persist

Page 4:

But Pebbles knew they weren’t alone!

These pink-blue feathers had grown

The same way that pink ones do,

Which isn’t that far off from blue!

And on that day, an egg did hatch

an igloo down, and Pebbles watched

and awed at blue-pink feathers new!

“Close to pink, but call it blue.” - quote from the dad

^^for this one I’m thinking about a decently-large crowd of penguins in the igloo

Page 5:

But as Pebbles saw his friends,

He knew a truth no-one did:

“You’re not just blue, I’m not just pink!

Our colors aren’t what we think!”

Pebbles rushed home, new thoughts in their head!

But their pure-blue mama sent them to bed.

They awoke in the morning and set out at dawn,

Parents in bed, they set out alone.

Page 6:

Over snow hills and snow banks and snow town-squares,

no pink and blue penguins watched and stared!

Over glaciers and sea ice, far out and away!

“I’m not blue or pink today!

Way out here, no dad, no mom,

surely a blue-pink penguin’s home!”

Page 7:

Pebbles cheered, but soon it was dark.

And the cold came fast… but then, a spark.

Another, a catch, and then— a fire!

And an old penguin weary of others.

“Who are you, child, far from home?”

“I’m Pebbles, I wanna to be alone…”

Page 8:

“And where are your parents, Pebbles, poor chick?”

“Don’t mention them now! They make me sick!

They say I’m blue, but I know it’s not so!

I’m blue and pink, why don’t they know?”

The elder brought Pebbles to the fire to see:

“So, you are purple. Just like me.”

maybe a nice full page close-up of their face and sparkly anime eyes where they’re like “I’M PURPLE” and recognize themself

Page 9:

Pebbles gazed at their feathers, so rich and so deep

And awoke anew, as if from a sleep

“We’re both purple, but different hues

Made of different pinks and blues!”

Tomorrow, they sprung from their chilly abode.

So says Pebbles, “I wanna go home.”

The elder started, surprised, aloof.

“But we’re purple, it’s no use.

The pink and blue won’t understand!”

And so, Pebbles took his hand.

Page 10:

Together they’d waddle and together they’d glide

Two purple penguins side by side!

Alone at first, but never again!

They came home, and mama said:

“Pebbles, you had me worried sick!”

“I’m purple, mom… (nervous penguin) What do you think?”

“Not pink or blue… now, that’s new.

Are other penguins purple too?”

Page 11:

The penguins gathered together that day,

and learned of the color they’d shunned away.

Some purple, some pink, some blue, some— what?

“I’m pink with blue polka-dots!” (new penguin)

“I’m striped blue and purple too!” (also new penguin)

They wiped off dye to show their hue.

Page 12:

One by one the others came near

Drawn by the colors they'd held so dear

They saw her courage, and her light

And now the Penguin Pole felt bright

If you don’t feel just pink or blue,

Remember Pebbles, brave and true

For even the penguins who stand on their own

Find their true selves the best ever known

the elder’s name is periwinkle but idk how to incorporate that bc impossible for meter and rhyming

[zaftikat]

20 Questions

This is the most 2010s tumblr thing I can recall doing on this site, and I have participated in the supernatural fandom. (Tagged by @toopunkrockforshul )

ALL OF THIS UNDER A CUT

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Five, but like you know, I'm workin on it.

2. How many words?

16,320. 11.4k comes from one fic tho

Nine Worlds Series by Victoria Goddard (specifically: Greenwing & Dart and Lays of the Hearthfire)

Star Wars by way of @dangersquaremedia's Chicks with Dice

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

well, i've only got the 5 so...

1. It's just Intermundial Tax Law, how hard could it be?

2. On Escaping from Orio Prison

3. The Tanà's Daughter, or How Pinyë Got Her Groove Back (Hiatus)

4. If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward (Ongoing)

5. The Poola Blossom

No because I'm afraid it might come across as weird? I don't read a lot of fic, so I'm not sure what the etiquette is?

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Implying I finish my fics instead of losing steam and forgetting them.

That said, when its finished, How Pinye Got Her Groove Back is going to be pretty fuckin angsty

Again, implying that I finish my fics.

The one I've gotten the most "this made me so sad" comments on is actually my happiest in my opinion. I wrote Intermundial Tax Law right as I was gearing up to move countries, and the story ends with the main character feeling confident and determined in his choice to leave home. That's the happiest ending I could have imagined at the time, because emigrating somewhere new is not a simple prospect, emotionally.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I write for very small fandoms full of predominantly very nice and supportive people. I would not change that.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I, a transfem on progesterone, have written smut, yes. The armpit licking kind. What other kinds are there?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I love a good AU, but I'm not super into crossovers. Just not my bag.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I apologize to the thief for the sort of mauve hue to my prose.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but damn if I wouldn't love to have a yiddish fic

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have ideas for a cowritten fic with @toopunkrockforshul ! its a wrestling AU

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

oh, maybe HMS Agamemnon. She was a 64 gun third rate who participated in the battle of Egypt and then shortly thereafter the Nore Mutiny. Laid up in 1802 in poor condition, and then brought out of ordinary in 1804 because napoleon was going to invade and they needed all the ships they could get. She took and demasted the Spanish 112 gun Santisima Trinidad at Trafalgar which is pretty cool.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

How Pinye Got Her Groove Back probably won't ever get finished because I've lost the mindset. Its a fic about dysphoria and coming out and as I get farther away from the direct experience its harder to set in my mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk. it feels odd to talk about my strengths when I'm so very green at this. I think I'm pretty alright at knowing when to kill a darling.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to get lost in the middle between where I know I'm going and where I currently am. It slows me down a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Like, maybe I could do Jack Aubrey quality french.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Greenwing & Dart

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward its just the most complex and well written thing I think i've ever done, and I can't wait for something else to replace it as my favourite.

I don't know enough people who write fic to tag them, so have fun if you want

[ryuzatodraws-archive]

Hey Ryu, sorry for bothering. Dysphoric thoughts are hitting hard again, may I request daddies in the woods fluff again.

-🐺

you know the drill

tw: body dysphoria , pregger related topics

Slow, it was a ridiculously slow week. The weather itself is so grey, the sun seems to just decide that it wont show up for days now. At least its cold, well too cold for Terzo.

He had been bundling up in blankets and sweaters not because he's cold, his belly every growing with a life inside it. Both Omega and Copia are out this time, groceries. Leaving him alone with his thoughts, which is a bad idea.

You dont leave Terzo alone with his thoughts.

Just like back at the abbey Terzo tried to keep things busy by doing small things around. He starts to clean around the house, but within 10 minutes or so

Contraction.

Baby is not happy in him, he ended up having to sit down on the sofa.

is the baby supposed to even be inside him? He loves Copia , whether it was an accident or not, he chose to carry it.

But was it a good idea? it felt like a good idea before. But now each time he stand naked in front of the mirror he just felt wrong . Mismatched. Some parts of his body feels right, masculine. His chest flat where the scar of his previous surgery lays, etched forever in a hue paler than his skin.

but when his eyes wanders lower he can see his bulging belly, was this supposed to happen? he doesnt know. He remembers how he fought to be where he is now, How he is now. He sighs, doomed and glooming on the sofa before a knock on the door.

Grunting, it was such a chore to even get off from the sofa but the door was already unlocked.

footsteps, heavy boots walking into the cabin.

''Jeez its cold here! want me to warm some things up?'' a ghoul tail swaying with the familiar horns. Terzo however wasn't expecting this.

''Alpha?''

Alpha stood in front of him, placing the pizza boxes on the table. ''I brought you some pizzas to cheer you up. Omega said that the weather is messing with you and Copia wanted to pick something up for ya as well so!'' He holds Terzo's shoulders, slowly guiding him to sit back down.

''Relax Papa, I'm gonna make sure everything is good till they come back ok?''

''I-si of course'' Terzo sits back, blinking.

Alpha's presence has somehow brought a tinge of warmth back into the cabin, just like the pizza.

[satanicspinosaurus]

Oh shit. Oh Shit. OH SHIT. Ever be riding in a car, passing the time and see something and go: OH I need a keyboard to get my feelings out on this one. I will not be trying to do this on my phone. Because right here, this. THE EYES. Like seriously. Shout out to Astarion's one red eye moment talking about hunger. The softness in the "happy?" panel. (The comedic ones too!) But Like, Aldriin steals the show here. The choice to masterfully show us so many ways his eyes look- from barely woken up to ashamed to alert- and then give us nothing on that front for him eating a brain except for this tiny ass red dot in ONE. BRILLIANT. Also like the motion in the "-adjusting' panel is just like top tier. There's also the fun use of color hue moving the story along with the dawn. I normally am not a fan of two romantic characters having the same hair color (espeically a fantasy one) but damn if it doesn't work here. They are the same in a lot of ways, but the mannerisms and everything else bring them to life so much. (Astarion's pomaded hair kind of being like him having adjusted while Aldriin's more motion filled longer locks are used to hide and frame his face.) I do love the tone, I really do. Body horror is near and dear to me as a trans person. (Not because I am gross, but dysphoria makes it feel that way.) I think there's a weird narrative that if a person shows any sign of discomfort that's a "bad reaction". But here we have Astarion going amazingly hard to help. And damn- he's so happy at the end! Like, I get he's not trying to impose his feelings on Aldriin but like he gets the magnitude of it on a viseral level. And yeah, he's also squimish about it and doesn't want to kiss him right now. Also the choice to have him fangs out in the last appearances and the happy panel is great. It's so cute. I really love looking at how his mouth hides or allows his fangs to be seen as we go through, and the happy panel just nails that Astarion probably will do best with someone who is also fucked up because he needs care but also to care. It's just ahahahahahahahah

For all the talk about how gruesome ceremorphosis is, I really thought the partial illithid transformation should have been a terrible time and the game didn’t really touch on the body horror aspects enough. Like imagine a few long rests into the transformation you get hit with a hunger condition, and only then does Emperor tell you you gotta feed regularly if you want to keep using your fancy new powers. And you can’t just nibble on part of a brain!

So here I make my tav, Aldiirn, suffer as I think he should, but luckily he has Astarion to help out like a cat leaving a dead mouse on your bed.

Next two pages are gorier so beware!

I wrote this when I was in the midst of Act 3 and it originally had a more somber tone, but then I finished the game and Astarion reacts so VISCERALLY like he’s gonna vomit to the sight of a mindflayer eating and well… I cannot resist dark humour lmao. He’s doing his best!

I truly believe Astarion’s the best support any tav could have in this situation, even if he can’t quite suppress the gagging. He’s been there already, has been living it for hundreds of years, and he’s shown to reach out to those in similar situations. He’s just so sweet sometimes aaa I love him.

[a-tortured-poets-quill]

So, I heard you write for Laughing Jack… 👉🏻👈🏻

Anyways, if it’s not too much trouble, can you write something of Jack who’s partner is a depressed/anxious ( and dysphoric ) transmasc enby? Totally not self projecting ( ok, I am, I just need this ;w; ).

It’s no trouble at all! I hope this makes you feel better.

Content: depictions of depression; depictions of anxiety; depictions of dysphoria; I didn’t feel completely comfortable writing for a trans reader since I’m not, so it’s not really mentioned, I hope that’s okay; no pronouns are used for reader.

Rainy Days

You woke to the sound of distant thunder rumbling across the morning, bringing with it muted sunshine and a sky full of grey clouds, coating everything outside in a dull pallet. The sunrise any other morning would be hypnotizing, splashes of color transforming the world right before your eyes, but today is underwhelming. Rain was sure to follow the mixed hues of fluffy grey clouds, so you parted the curtains, snuggled back into your bed, and watched as the first drops began to stream down the glass.

The weather outside mirrors perfectly how you feel inside today. There are shades of dark and light in the sky, warring for prominence just as your desires do. You feel apathetic and exhausted, ready to waste your day doing nothing; but that wars with your need to do something, to be productive when you’re away from work, as if you’re a failure for not using your time as everyone else would. Both feelings leave you in a whirl of emotion, not settling on one or another aside from a slowly creeping chill of depression.

So you lie there, watching the gentle streams of rain turn into a downpour, battering the window and roof for long hours that seem to pass too slow and too fast simultaneously.

You change your position in bed only once, to turn away from staring out the window to facing the door. A small sliver of light filters into the dark room when Jack comes in, quietly closing the door behind him. Soft footsteps lead him to where you’re lying, and he takes a place on the part of the bed unused by your large cocoon of blankets.

“There you are,” he says softly, claws coming to gently stroke your hair. “I was worried, I haven’t seen you all day.”

You answer him with a soft hum, covering his crossed legs with a soft blanket and laying your head into his lap.

He pulls you up so that you’re against his chest, adjusting himself for your comfort until you’re both in a position to watch the pouring rain change the landscape outside.

“Is this okay?” he asks gently. Your heart warms at how considerate he always is, always making sure you’re comfortable and happy.

“Yeah, this is perfect, Jack,” you reply, a tiny smile gracing your lips for the first time today.

You can feel his eyes on you, his head tilted down to watch you. You don’t meet his gaze, instead letting your eyes close. You focus on the feeling of his long claws brushing your scalp, married to the sound of rainfall outside, and the symphony almost makes you feel calm.

Almost.

Long moments pass in the shared embrace, but instead of feeling comforted you start to feel worse, the old anxiety welling up in your stomach. You peek at the clock - 4PM - and groan, unable to push down your feelings that are rising to the surface.

You’ve wasted your whole damn day doing nothing, and now it’s almost over.

Thoughts begin to multiply themselves through your mind; depressive thoughts coming back up from where they had been pushed down earlier, the anxiety you’d been feeling, the discomfort you’ve been having in your own body.

You don’t feel comforted anymore. Instead you feel uncomfortable, and you tense up. You just want all these thoughts to go away, to be okay again, but you just can’t.

Jack must sense your sudden anxiety, because he shifts behind you, arms slightly tightening around you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently.

“I just…” You sigh. “For the last few days I just haven’t felt like myself. I’ve felt so sad, so anxious. I don’t feel comfortable in my own body. There’s just so much going on in my head, and I want to be better but I just can’t.”

At this point your sobbing, warm tears making tiny waterfalls down your cheeks. Jack readjusts you, turning you so that he can see your face more easily. He brushes the tears away, letting you cry, get everything out.

“Why didn’t you tell me when you first started feeling like this?”

“Because I didn’t want to be a bother. You shouldn’t have to deal with my problems, it’s my bullshit. I should be able to handle myself.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You’re not a bother. I love you, and the things that bother you bother me as well. We’re a team, we handle things together, right?”

You nod, letting out a shaky breath. “I just feel like I’m not good enough.”

“But you are. You’re perfect to me. And don’t say that you aren’t, because to me you are. When I say I love you, I mean every fiber of your being. I love the rhythm of your heart, the threads of your veins, just the beauty of you. I love your joyful giggles, your tears of sorrow, your weary mind, and your heart that’s been bruised. I love your dumb questions, your thoughtful words, your gentle lips, and your radiant smile that lights up the world. I’ll always love you unconditionally and wholly, and if you ever doubt that I’ll spend all my time reminding you that it’s true.”

You reach up to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “What would I do without you?”

“You’ll never have to worry about that.”

He presses his forehead against yours and just holds you, and it’s like you can feel all the unwavering love he has for you sinking into your very being. It’s warm, a soft heat that starts to melt the cold depression that had settled over your mind.

It chips away at the thoughts in your mind; the anxieties, fears, and depression all begin to fade into tiny pinpricks of light, still hiding there somewhere on the edges of your mind, but now small enough that you can see more than the dragging darkness that clung to them.

The rain has picked up again, battering against the window in a constant rhythm. You let yourself fall into the moment, relaxing completely against him and allowing your eyes to fall closed again. Jack gently threads the tips of his claws through your hair.

You knew that this was just a temporary setback and that the thoughts could come crawling back any time, but for right now, this was nice.

Divider link

[trenchgardens-ooc-ooc-ooc-ooc]

freqky body horror troll stuff below cut

specifically about trans-caste surgeries and stuff

im pretty sure the one with the gold fuchsia blood is one of the ones who hates me which kinda sucks cause i think the concept of changing uour blood color would do some interesting things to plexus' brain... plexus is so...

girls who have intense *blood* dysphoria... we should have more weird freaky unethical self expiramentation guys on here... i guess perpep niptur is kind of transcaste... just not changed her blood... she did break her horns to look more olive and cut her fins to look like ears at a glance... i wonder if she would have done something to her neck gills... theyre harder to hide than rib gills...

Detheo Ordeor :handshake: Perpep Niptur

weird caste shit

i think i have four characters with weird caste shit? Plex, Ferrics, A!Perpep, B!Detheo...

yeah i think thats everyone who has caste stuff... hue dysphoria, hueberty, automutilation to survive, hue euphoria... Detheo Ordeor is deeply unwell jfc... Well Oomani feels repulsed at her blood sometimes but i think thats more of a repulsed by gold blood purpose in the empire... though i guess thats no different than plex's... Oomani and Plexus dont want to like... become a different blood color, even if it was something you could do a transition for hrt style, theyre just disgusted by the caste stystem as a whole... Perpep Niptur doesn't know Limes were a caste she just thinks shes an offcolor mutant signless style... i qonder if her and the halfiron were friends... they do both follow the signlesa and have weird blood mutations... i imagine she wouls not be a fan of Declans past with the cullers...... i wonder iffff... hmm...

[unboundtravels]

𝐷𝑂𝑊𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑅𝐴𝐵𝐵𝐼𝑇 𝐻𝑂𝐿𝐸 | @wonderloste

asked: "thankful am i that the path you chose led you to me. wonderland's marshes are... not always so kind, after falling down the rabbit hole. i was worried." / white rabbit @ blue pink for u !! 🙏

Magenta hues fluttered open as The Timelord's head reeled. The voice punching through his subconscious stirs him awake. Where had he been before now? Temporal Dysphoria had set in. When you've been pulled through reality and space simultaneously and also instantaneously. The TARDIS was moving through the Time-Space Vortex, The Doctor heading back to Earth. He had just come back from the TARDIS library with a particular book. He had questions about the ending, so he took his time spaceship back to the book's publication to ask follow-up questions. He was debating whether or not he should travel back through the time stream towards when it was being written. Not to upset the contents, but to understand the storytelling during the process. He was so distracted by his plans for the day, and his ramblings about them— that he hadn't noticed some kind of alarm bell beeping off the console. Not at least, until it was too late. 

He suddenly sat up when he remembered that he had been inside The TARDIS one moment, and now he wasn't. His head was pounding, almost as if his brain was struggling to remember what had happened. When he finally got his eyes trained on the surroundings, he flinched backward at the sight of the white rabbit. 

"Good god, man! Don't sneak up on me like that." 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 exhaled before looking down at his outfit suddenly. "Oh, no. Not again." He mumbled, before inspecting the features of the world and of finally... this rabbit. The Doctor eventually stood and brushed himself off, before taking another long look at his blue exterior. "Well, I certainly bring a whole new definition to the phrase: Turning Blue." He moved to swipe his coattails aside before sliding them into his pockets. "I don't suppose you've ever had your color pallet swapped on you?" He hummed, "No, of course not." Hee exhaled heartily before moving to hold his head. "Must've fallen through a pocket in reality... For some reason, I don't feel as if I've entered through the right door..." He hummed quietly, looking up at the sky and at the wonderland trees and greenery. 

"Did I miss out on cakes and a tiny little potion that says drink me?" He mumbled before finally turning back toward the white rabbit. "Whatever way I came in, though— I know I'm not supposed to be here. I've got to find The TARDIS. It must've fallen around here somewhere." The Doctor grumbled again before turning back toward The White Rabbit. Only now, at full coherence, could he reply to The Rabbit's earlier statement. "Wait just a moment... You said... The path I chose? So I am supposed to be here, after all? Or are you implying I'm being expected? The latter's undertones aren't exactly something I'm privy to." He hummed, rubbing softly at his chin.

"And you called it wonderland. I thought you did." The Doctor's gaze narrowed as he looked at the rest of this domain through the corner of his eye. His hand returned back to his pocket and he let out a heavy sigh. "So I've fallen down the rabbit hole, have I?" The Doctor parroted the end of The Rabbit's sentence, "This whole place..." He stooped, looking outward and exhaling loudly. "It's already doing something to my mind, I can feel it..." He rubbed at his chin again before nodding his head. "I suppose I'll have to play along, for now at least— just until I can find the TARDIS..." The Doctor concluded aloud as if the character he faced wouldn't actively implicate him. As if Wonderland wasn't listening. He wouldn't put it past the realm to eavesdrop, though. He figured as long as he did what they'd want, they'd leave him alone.

"Very well then." The Doctor spoke firmly, "Lead on, Rabbit. I'm in your care."

[mangodestroyer]

Sometimes, I wonder whether my disinterest in make-up is because of my gender identity, or because I'm a bit of a redhead.

I'm not a ginger or anything, but I do have noticeably reddish hair. I'd definitely say it's auburn. Or at least a light brown/cinnamon color. And while I am able to tan (and good at it cause I'm part Native), my tan is very pinkish, with very few golden hues. My skin is pasty af in the winter. I have freckles on my cheeks. My eyelashes are thick and long, but they're reddish-brown at the base and look blondish at the tips. My bottom eyelashes are straight up platinum.

And any time I've tried wearing make-up, I always thought it looked so ridiculous and over-the-top. Most foundation available in store don't match my skin tone at all. Most of it is very warm/golden. A lot of it would be way too dark for me in the winter. Even when I did order some online that matched, it covered up the pinkish tones in my face... and made me look terrible. In fact, I think it's pointless for me to wear foundation. Even if it covers up marks and stuff, I think I just look better natural? My cheeks are already rosey, and why would anyone want to cover up freckles? Plus, that stuff is uncomfortable and it rubs off.

Stuff like contour, lipstick, and blush I could never understand. Again, it seems like too much imo. I know some people pull it off well, but it's not for me.

The only thing I like is mascara, tbh. And concealer. I've always used concealer, albeit rarely. Just to cover up a few acne spots on a bad day. I like mascara because I find eyelashes and eyes very attractive. Idk if it's because of my facial blindness, but I think I tend to hyperfocus on certain features of the face so I can better remember them. And eyes are just one of those things. In fact, I remember the specific shade and color of my acquaintances eyes a little too well, but it seriously is something that helps me identify them.

And that's yet another problem for me. Finding mascara that works. Most mascara looks off when I put it on. I ordered dark brown mascara once and it still looked jarring on my face. Purple looked alright, and people liked it on me (hazel eyes), but I still thought it could be better. I think I might have to suck it up and spend extra on the few shades of lighter brown/auburn mascaras that exist. I can't imagine anything else looking better. In fact, I love the idea of it. I would also just love to find ways to enhance my eyes more because I feel like it's too easy for them to get murky and boring (I'm fighting a battle between brown, green, and grey, and it's easy for my eyes to end up looking dull as a result). Plus, my eyelashes are hardly noticeable if too much light shines on them.

Anyone else struggle so much with makeup? Were some people just meant to avoid most of it? Or is it just me not being a huge fan personally? I'm aware some of the discomfort could be gender dysphoria. Again, only light mascara seems to appeal to me.

[with-love-from-hell]

Asmodeus comforting a Trans!Mc who is feeling dysphoric

Request by @theorriginalolivejar​

“...I was wondering if I could have a trans mc x Asmodeus fic where Mc is dysphoric (maybe theyre on their period, maybe they're just having an off day, I'll let you be creative w/ it) and Asmodeus comforts them...” 

eeeeee! thank you so much for the request. I hope I did you justice!!! I did have a little fun with this one in terms of the language I used- I have been itching to write a more chaotic Mc so I took this opportunity to do so- especially given this is supposed to be a more light-hearted and fluffy fic! I initially planned on using he/they pronouns for Mc here, but I never got the opportunity to...so just assume this is written for a GN! or TransMasc!Mc. Read under the cut.

Genre: comfort, fluff, slight crack

Written for a GN/TransMasc!MC 

WC: ~ 1.8k

Cw: menstruation, swearing, gender dysphoria, blood mention, cramps, mention of breasts

You slowly open your eyes to find the dark hue of the early Devildom morning washing in through your window. Why am I awake right now? It’s Saturday! you groan and shove your face into the pillow. As you adjust to consciousness, you realize there is a dull pain in your abdomen. You sigh, trying hard to ignore the pain and just go back to sleep, but the dullness turns sharp- making you hiss in agony. 

You lift yourself reluctantly out of bed and slowly trudge to your bathroom. You check your underwear for signs of blood. Just as you thought: You got your mother fucking period. 

“UGH!” you yell, cursing at your body. You knew it was coming. Every time you feel the tears start to well up at miniscule things, start to get weird cravings for no particular reason, and you begin to become annoyed by the most minor of inconvenience, you know that that stupid time of the month is on the horizon. But every time, you convince yourself that this time it wont happen! As if it would magically dissipate and you would feel normal again and not have to deal with the tribulations of having a period on top of the dysphoria it causes you. 

You draw yourself a bath and pull out your DDD. Because you had not prepared well enough, you had run out of pads, and going out with a clog of toilet paper shoved up your...well, that wouldn’t be too great. The last time you tried doing that you just leaked right through it and ruined your favorite pair of pants. 

You open your text messages and send a text to the person you trust to (1) be the most mature about the fact that you were bleeding and that it would ultimately be fine, (2) come to your aid with as much support as he could muster, and (3) would be the only one awake at this hour on a fucking SATURDAY.  

Mc: “Hey, Asmo. I need a huge favor.”

Asmo: “Ooo Lucky you! I was just finishing up my makeup.”

Asmo: “What’s up, Doll? 😊”

Mc: “I need someone to run to the store for me and I knew you’d be up.”

Asmo: “Hmmm...I may be able to do that for you...if you do something for meeeee. 😏😘” 

You sighed at his teasing. 

Mc: “Asmo, please. I am not in the mood. I got my period this morning and I am out of pads.”

You awaited a response from him for 10 minutes, but did not receive one. You sighed and set your DDD on the counter. Your abdomen tensed with the pain of the cramps and you doubled over, whimpering. You had already taken some pain reliever, but you knew that once the cramps started it took a while for any medication to kick in. You eased yourself into the bubble bath, the warm sensation of the water soothing the pain. You leaned your head back against the basin and closed your eyes, just wishing the pain would go the hell away. 

Somehow you managed to fall asleep, but your slumber was soon interrupted by Asmo bursting into your bathroom without warning, his arms filled to the brim with shopping bags. 

You screamed. “ASMODEUS! What the fuck!”

Asmo pouted at you as he set down the bags. “Aww, Babe! You started a bath without me?” 

You glared daggers at him for intruding on your bath. Obviously it’s Asmo- he’s walked in on you naked more times that you could count and has joined you for baths numerous times under the condition that he not touch you. By now you figured he’d know to knock...but your glare lingered for only a moment before realizing the bags he was dropping were for you. 

“Asmo...What’s all this?” You asked, a pink blush rising on your cheeks. “I only asked for some pads.” 

Asmo tutted at you. “I know this time of the month is extra hard for you, so I splurged!” He began rifling through the bags. 

You watched as he removed 3 huge packages of pads, a new package of boxer-briefs, extra-strength pain reliever, and three heating pads from the first bag. From the second, he removed chocolate bars, strawberries, figs, and mineral water flavored with lemon and ginger. He overturned the third bag- a variety of face masks, oils, lotions, and scrubs fell to the floor. However, he paused on the fourth. You saw a blush paint his cheeks as he pushed that one to the side. 

“I got all this stuff for you so you dont have to leave your room all day!” His face was now back to his natural flirtatious expression. “If you need anything else, I will absolutely grab it for you.” 

You smiled gratefully at him. As you saw a look of longing morph onto his face, you sighed and motioned for him to join you in the bath. He squealed in delight and shed his clothes before damn near leaping in to the basin. 

He nearly talked your ear off for the next hour while you relaxed in the bath with him. He told you all the latest gossip among the succubi at RAD, about how the student council was faring with the new year quickly approaching, and about his most recent feature in a Majolish ad that he felt was well below his standard. His rambling, while excessive, was able to distract you from your pain and thoughts about how awful your body was. 

After draining the bath, Asmo skipped to his room to gather some items needed for the perfect pampering day. You exited the basin, but paused at your reflection in the mirror. A wave of negative thoughts, melancholy, and anxiety washed over you as you stared. You wished your body could be how you wanted it to- but you couldn’t help the features you were born with. Tears filled your eyes at the longing for a body to match your gender and to rid yourself of the constant reminders that it didn’t.

Unbeknownst to you, Asmo had returned and paused, watching you from the doorway. He was never one to peep on you without you knowing, but he heard your soft cries as you looked in the mirror at yourself. His heart broke at the site. He didn’t know the pain of what Dysphoria felt like, but seeing it agonize you this much hurt him as well. He snatched the fourth bag off the floor and rushed to your side. He gave you a tight squeeze before you could try to cover yourself or try to pretend you weren’t just crying. 

As he pulled away, he pulled an item out of the fourth bag and thrust it toward you. His face was beaming with excitement, and the tips of his ears were blushed in a soft reddish glow.

You scrunched your face at the item in his hands. A sports bra? What the fuck was he giving you that for? 

He noticed your expression and immediately felt his face flush. “I figured...since you didn’t have any...I’d gift you some.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Asmo, I have like 30 sports bras. It’s all I ever wear."

He widened his eyes at you and shook his head aggressively. “No, no! It’s not a bra! It’s a binder!” 

You gasped. You hadn’t been able to bring any of your binders with you since Lucifer bippity-boppity-booed your ass here without any of your belongings. And you haven’t been able to find any binders you could afford yet- most of the affordable binders that were sold in Devildom were often only available at Lingerie stores or sex shops and were really feminine looking...and the ones sold at the other boutiques were typically way outside your price range. 

Asmo handed you the binder sheepishly. It looked different from the ones in the human world. He watched you with glowing orange eyes, eager to see you try on his gift. As you put it on, you felt it slightly constrict, but then it quickly melded to your skin and felt as if nothing was there.

You glanced at Asmo quizzically. He motioned excitedly for you to turn and look in the mirror. You hesitate, but turn at his incesistance. Once you glanced to your form in the mirror, you gasped at your reflection. The area your breasts once took over on your chest was now completely flat. The color of the binder- that was once black- had now faded to completely blend to you skin tone. A set of masculine-looking nipples were now placed in the absence of your breast, with a light defining feature to your chest. You gaped at your reflection. How the hell was this even possible?!

Asmo wrapped his hands around your waist and gave you a squeeze. “I know they’re pricey, but you’re worth it. Better than any mediocre human world binder, right?” 

Tears formed in your eyes as you spun to embrace him. The gender euphoria that erupted from your heart at the sight of your reflection was overwhelming, and you were so grateful that Asmo cared enough to gift you such a wonderful thing. 

He giggled and squeezed you tightly. “I got you 3 more so you can cycle them out and not have to wait to use them when your laundry is dirty...But that’s not all.”

You stepped back from him, puzzled. What else could he have gotten you??

He handed you a small box from the bag. You weren’t sure what to make of it- It was solid white with no label. You nervously opened the box to be greeted with a phallus-shaped item that squished to your touch. You lifted your eyes to him, questioningly. 

“What the...what is this?” you demanded. 

He bounced up and down, unable to contain his excitement anymore. “It’s a packer!! I found them at one of the boutiques near Majolish that sells exclusively gender-affirming items!” 

You gaped at him. He had gone far beyond your expectations to ease your dysphoria. He had clearly been paying attention this whole time, and was waiting for the right moment to surprise you. Tears welled within you again and you gripped him in another hug. 

“Words cannot described how I’m feeling right now, Asmo.” you sniffled into his chest. “Thank you...Thank you so much.” 

He beamed at you and placed a kiss delicately on the top of your head.  “Anything for you, my darling! Now come, let’s commence the pampering!” 

The rest of your day is filled with laughter, relaxation, and snuggles from Asmo. He gave you a foot massage, watched your favorite movies with you, and waited on your every need. Even though he initially stated you needed to do something for him in return, you’re not sure what you could give that could equate to the support he provided to you. Little did you know, your company is all he ever wanted. 

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

This was a request made by the very talented KageKaminari on my Ao3 for a continuation with my curvy enby Reader being comforted by Daniela after some feelings of gender dysphoria. It’s pure and utter fluff, and I do hope you’ll all enjoy it! *** Your eyes fell solemnly over your body as you straightened out your uniform in the small mirror of your bedroom. If you had to guess, it had probably been around the hundredth time or so that the simple fabric had touched your skin . With each time being more suffocating than the last. Though it had nothing to do with the fabric itself, nor a lack of quality with which it was made, but the unrelenting gnawing feeling that it left you with every time that you wore it.

You spread your fingers evenly over the slightly frilled hem of the skirt, doing your absolute best to get it to lie straight. To will it to fall against your body in a way that didn’t accentuate your curves any further. With the bodice of the uniform tightly hugging your chest and hips, leaving you with a feeling of extreme discomfort - and you weren’t even sure as to why.

As a soft knock rang through the otherwise quiet air of the servants quarters, you jumped - clearing your throat before answering.

“Ah… come in?”

You knew it could only be a handful of people. With the most likely being the head maid with a schedule change for the day, or one of the Lady’s daughters with their daily efforts of leaving you a flustered, blushy mess before breakfast. Your bet was on the latter.

And you were right.

“Hello, my sweet. How are you on this finest of mornings?”

You smiled as the youngest Dimitrescu daughter stepped into your room. A playful smirk across her lips as she plopped herself down onto your bed. Strands of fiery red spilling beautifully over the length of her back and shoulders as she leaned back on her elbows, giving you a wink.

You laughed softly and gave her a small smile.

“Heh… I’m doing alright today, miss. And how are you?” As if she hadn’t heard a single word you said, Daniela promptly jumped up from her spot on the bed, meeting you swiftly at the mirror. A serious look to her face as she scanned you over, pursing her lips slightly and looking remarkably like her mother.

She narrowed her eyes at you before speaking. Circling your body like you were her prey.

“You know I can smell when you’re sad, right?”

“You.. you can??”

Daniela chuckled, shaking her head with a fond look on her face.

“No.. I can’t.. generally I can only smell fear in a person.” She smirked before continuing. “But I am fairly good at sensing when someone is feeling badly.. call it a primal instinct.”

You laughed in turn, always surprised by how comfortable the young woman could make you feel without even trying.

“Touche’, miss.”

You began fiddling with the fringes of your skirt, highly aware of deep embers of Daniela’s eyes boring into you. A soft touch finding your back, turning to small circles as you continued to try and keep your gaze on the image of yourself in front of you.

“You.. wanna talk about it?”

“Ah… I’m… not sure, miss.”

“Does it have something to do with your uniform? Is it uncomfortable?”

“You.. could say that, miss.”

“It looks great on you, but we can have it let out if you find it too tight, my sweet.”

You finally turned in her direction, blushing deeply at the fond smile upon her lips. - at the warmth in her eyes that always made it so easy to talk to her.

“Thank you, miss.. but, it’s not the size.. It’s.. “

You paused, holding back the heated tears that had slowly begun to build behind your eyes. How were you to tell her what was wrong, when you weren’t even sure of it yourself? She took a step back, an almost knowing look to her eyes as she took your hand in hers, slowly leading you back to the bed.

“Come.. sit with me.”

“I.. yes, miss.”

She smiled at you, her long fingers cupping your cheek lightly as you sat beside her.

“Tell me, sweet.. Is there something in the uniform that maybe could be.. altered? To say.. make you feel more comfortable in it?”

“Well, I.. the skirt, yes… and the way it hugs my curves.. I just… I don’t like it.”

You averted your eyes nervously, having never in your life spoken about how the normal everyday attire of the village had made you feel. How you had always felt like maybe something was... wrong with you. That maybe when they were passing out genders, someone had mindlessly passed you over. But... this was the first time anyone had ever asked you about it. Had ever cared enough to know if there was something that could be done to maybe, just maybe, make you feel a tad more comfortable in your skin.

The youngest Dimitrescu gave you a warm smile as she wrapped her arms around your soft waist.

“Well, that’s something that can be easily fixed, my sweet.”

“... it can?”

“Of course! Haven’t you ever noticed mother’s handservant’s uniform? Skirts aren’t really their forte either.”

“I.. well, yes, I noticed.. but I thought maybe..”

Daniela waved her hand dismissively before smiling again.

“It’s something that can easily be done for any of the staff here. You should always be comfortable in what you wear! And feel valid as fuck in them.”

You could no longer stop the tears that spilled unhindered from down your cheeks at the pure and utter kindness that the young Dimitrescu was showing you - in her ability to accept you for who you are - with no questions asked.

“Th-thank you, miss.”

“Of course, my sweet.”

She placed her lips softly against your cheek, forcing a swift blush to paint across them.

“Would it help if we had everyone refer to you as ‘they’ instead of ‘she’ from now on?”

You jerked your head up abruptly, staring at her in bewilderment. How could she have… ?

“It’s how we address mother’s handservant.” She quickly added, seeming to read your mind. “The use of it seemed to help them rather quickly, so I just thought…”

Your mouth went a little dry as you watched the slight pink hue rise to the surface of Daniela’s normally fair skin, biting her bottom lip as she watched you.

“Ah… yes, miss.. I think.. I think that would be quite helpful. Thank you.”

“Ahem.. of course, my sweet.”

She pulled you a little closer, breathing you in before resting her head softly on your shoulder. An indulgent scent of honey quickly wafting over you, and you knew immediately that she had likely just bathed (A thought for you to mull over and be gay about later on that night). You couldn’t help but to melt into her gentle affections. To allow yourself a moment of solace with the youngest, and your favorite, of the daughters. Her long fingers tracing idle circles over your back and thigh, compelling you to close your eyes as you allowed the moment to wash over you. Only opening them when she spoke again.

“You’re amazing, you know?”

“I.. ah… erm..”

She chuckled at your fluster, placing a flirty kiss to the side of your neck before promptly rising from the bed.

“And cute as fuck when you’re flustered.”

She winked at you and you swallowed hard, rising from the bed yourself so that you wouldn’t be late for the start of your daily duties. The length of her body slowly making its way to your door before turning back to look at you once more.

“My sweet?”

“Y-yes, miss?”

“Would you like me to talk to mother’s handservant for you? Maybe see if they wouldn’t mind you talking over some of your feelings with them?”

You almost cried at the sheer kindness of her offer, at how incredibly accepting she was. You did your best to swallow the tears back before answering.

“I… yes, miss.. I would like that very much. Thank you.”

“Consider it nothing. Them and I are tight.”

You laughed at her choice of words, causing her to crinkle her nose in the most adorable way.

“Still, miss.. thank you.”

She blushed slightly before giving you a large smile.

“Happy to help! I’ll also have mother put in a request for your new outfit today.”

“Thank you, miss. You are entirely too kind.”

“Pft… I am just kind enough, thank you very much!”

You laughed again and she smiled.

“And if you need anything else, you come to me, yeah?”

Her gaze never left yours as she stood waiting by the door - and you knew without her even having to say it that she meant every single word of it. That she was a safe space within the castle for you, always. You gave her a nod, doing your best to stop the warmth in your heart from spilling out and all over everything in your small room.

“Of course, miss.”

“Good! See you tonight at dinner! Don’t be late!”

And with that, you had found yourself invited to yet another family dinner.

[pinuppuppjm]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮.

𝘑𝘪𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸.

Word Count: 595

General Tags: FTM Jimin x Cis Jungkook, boypussy Jimin, hurt/comfort, gender dysphoria

Read On AO3

(not proofread or edited)

this is a vent fic. if you are trans, please read with caution as this may be triggering to some.

He had spent weeks preparing for this. Every single day he saw improvement. He saw his confidence grow, so why now? Why now, with his perfect, pliant boyfriend prepped and ready in front of him, was he like this? His head felt fuzzy, and his eyes … he could feel the tears pounding against the gate, begging to be released.

Go away. Please.

“Jimin? Baby? What’s wrong?”

His head popped up from where it had fallen, and he was met with the sight of his worried boyfriend. He opened his mouth to speak, but the silence continued. Jungkook knew, though. This had happened before. Not this specific situation, but that look … He’d seen it far too many times.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly, reaching out to cup his boyfriend’s cheek. Before he could say anything else, Jimin’s eyes pleaded with him.

Help.

“Let’s stop for today, okay?”

Jimin nodded, finally letting the tears burst through. He collapsed into the younger’s arms, sputtering out apologizes. Jungkook just kept telling him it was okay while holding him close, allowing him to cry as much as he needed.

Once he seemed calm enough, Jungkook offered to help him remove the strap he had placed inside himself for this to which Jimin scowled. Jungkook had also seen this look many times before, and he knew this was a quick stepping stone to something different.

Shame. Anger. Embarrassment. Rage.

Jimin had described it to him many times before. The feeling of not belonging in one’s own body. The weight of it. How it felt like he was tied to stakes and had boulders placed on top of his chest. How it felt like he was trapped inside a body that wasn’t his. Desperately clawing at the flesh in hopes of finally seeing the sun but ultimately getting no where.

Stuck in the dark.

Forever.

Before Jungkook could offer again, Jimin was pulling it out himself and throwing it across the room. It hit the wall with a dull thud and fell to the ground as Jimin tore himself away from Jungkook to escape. The younger watched in shock as Jimin snatched his hoodie from the bedside table and ran out of the room, pulling the garment over his head as he went. Jungkook winced when he heard a door slam, followed by the sound of the lock turning.

Jimin was a lot of things. Small. Fragile. Shy. But one thing Park Jimin never was, was weak. He was the strongest person Jungkook knew. Everyday, Jungkook looked at him in awe. He was powerful. A force to be reckoned with. Sometimes even scary.

Jungkook adored him.

Quickly, he cleaned himself up, pulled on some sweats, and set off down the hall until he found the bathroom. Jimin’s usual place of refuge during stressful situations. Although this worried Jungkook, it was relieving to know where he was. He was just about to knock when he heard, “Go away,”

He was crying again. The poor thing. It broke Jungkook’s heart, but the sight he was met with when Jimin finally opened the door, hurt even more.

His face was covered in red splotches from him rubbing at his skin. His lips were swollen. Their natural pink hue now more of a cherry red to match his puffy eyes. Jungkook couldn’t take it anymore. Tears started running down his own face as he engulfed the smaller in a hug. He wasn’t sure who was holding up who at that point, but what mattered was that they were both hurting … and

They both had each other.

[thegracelessfaceless]

If you are still doing matchups,, I'd be interested in a creepypasta one. I'm coming over from Elise blog.

So my name is Shay, I go by Whiskey because it's a preference in liquor on my end. I go by they/them pronouns, AFAB and I'm bi and omniromantic, I do have an mild preference for men or masc aligned people. I'm a Libra sun, Virgo moon and Aquarius rising. I'm also introvert (INFJ-A) and I'm constantly sleeply. I do have C-PSTD, Bipolar II and GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder).

I'm Caucasian/White and I stand at 5'9. I have celtic and Danish heritage, My family where vikings. I'm really tall and legs double the size of my torso, as in my thighs are as big as my torso in length, same with my calves. I call myself spider legs because of that. I have this natural like wolf cut going on that is this dark green with my roots be my natural dark chocolate brown hair. My eyes are hazel with gold flecks that shift in color which I found out is normal for people with hazel eyes. I paint my nails black a lot because I find the color pleasing. My build wise is like a rectangle like shape with broad shoulders. I'm pretty strong and I'm proud of my strength. I'm currently starting to get into shape and lose weight so I have fit shape but not like over for. Just the right amount of fat over my muscles. I have a lot of stretch marks,, mostly around my waist and my biceps. I call them my stripes or lighting marks. I have plans to get snake bite piercings and wear like the ring ones in them. I'm getting an tattoo soon that is like this and then I want a burning match tattoo on my color bone. My ears are piercing and I like wearing fake gauges, spirals and then the ratings that have the dangly stuff and cuffs with them. I also wear like those stereotypical hot topic chokers. I wear a lot of long sleeves and skinny jeans, I do like ripped skinny jeans. I also love flannels and black boots like doc martins or converse.

I think you can assume by the statement of me liking whiskey I am the rebellious sort which is true. I have drank a bit and tried weed, I don't do it anymore tho.I have been told if people don't know me and see me from afar I'm intimidating to approach. Even being spooky and intimidating, I promise I'm just a big softie. I usually assume the mom friend of the group with my friends. I always worry about them and make sure they take care of themselves. Sometimes I do it so much I forget to take care of myself. I'm really gentle and compassionate, along with being extremely empathetic. I can be stubborn and bit judgemental at times, mostly working off first impressions myself when getting to know each other. I have an hard time being insertive and putting my foot down with my boundaries, scared to lose people even if the hurt me. I'm an introvert through and through, liking to watch from the back and observe the way things go on around me. I do my best to be an optimist because I can't see the point in see everything wrong in this world, it helps me to see the good. I love going on adventures with my close friends and love being a chaotic bastard with them. My dnd alignment is chaotic neutral and I'm Hufflepuff. I do live by the saying do no harm but take no shit. But I won't hesitate to fight someone for the right causes.

I do always constantly look like I am going to funeral of some sort because I own nothing but black. The color makes me feel really comfortable but it's not my favorite color. My favorite color is green but I like sage green, forest green, mossy green, etc. The earthy greens are my favorites. I have a love for the forest and woodlands, finding a sense of home in the woods. I do love archery and something I'm definitely going to be picking up along with playing the drums. I also smoke herbal cigarettes as well as alternative to smoking.

I often get called a cryptid and at this point, I am just one. Cryptidcore, Midwest Gothic, and Pacific Northwest Gothic are my favorite aesthetics. I have a huge love for cryptozoology (the study of cryptids), parapsychology (the psychic phenomena and other paranormal claims), original creepypasta stories and to be honest anything like spooky and creepy. I want to be a mortician and I'm attending school for that. I also really love the dark, especially if I have some good music blasting through my earbuds. I am a sucker for long road trips and seeing things, filling the adventure heart I have. My favorite animals are coyotes and I also like horses. I like to write a lot as well.

Okay, first off, you sound so cool?! Like we should talk more 😃.

I match you with...

Hₑᄂₑ𝚗 ₒ𝚝ᵢ𝘴/ Bᄂₒₒ𝚍y Pₐᵢ𝚗𝚝ₑᵣ

(Not my art, unknown artist. Contact me with credit info!)

Helen gets the they/them pronouns. For the longest, the thought he was a weird girl. Then he had body dysphoria for a long time, and then he came to terms with his identity.

Helen is a Virgo to your Libra. Virgos admire Libra's clear mindedness and their drive for balance in all areas.

However, Virgos can have some trust issues. Just be there and patient with Helen. He'll get over those hurdles eventually.

Helen gets being an introvert, being one himself. He never had many friends growing up, his only close one being killed by bullies who then tried to blame it on him. Helen would be perfectly content if you two were the last people on Earth.

Helen loves how you look, like you're just 'classical' beautiful? He loves painting your eyes, trying to get that perfect mix of green and gold.

He recites Robert Frost to you because your eyes remind him of this poem:

"Nature's first green is gold/ Her hardest hue to hold/ Her early leaf's a-flower;/ but only so an hour./ Then leaf subsides to leaf/ So Eden sank to grief/ So dawn goes down to day/ Nothing gold can stay"- Robert Frost "Nothing Gold Can Stay"

Helen would enjoy painting your nails for you, maybe even painting little designs on them if you'd like

Helen would be so supportive in your fitness journey. He just doesn't want you to feel like you have to lose weight to please him or anyone else. He thinks you're perfect just how you are, just like he'd think you're perfect 50 pounds overweight or 50 pounds underweight.

Helen loves your stripes. Whenever you feel self conscious about them, he reminds you that the things that make a person attractive are groupings of flaws that work well with each other to make a beautiful face

OR

He tells you how the Chinese fill in cracked china and pottery with molten gold because the cracks make the piece more beautiful since it has more character.

Helen would love to design tattoos for you

He thinks it's sweet that you're Mom Friend™, but he's not going to let you drive yourself into the ground taking care of everyone else. So, now, you can't lift a finger around Helen. He waits on you hand and foot

He'll help you learn to be more assertive and stand up for yourself and what you believe in. He'll help you set boundaries and limits and he'll help you enforce them. One of his more important lessons is that you have no room in your life for people who hurt you, use you, or make you miserable.

Anyone that hurts you will be subjected to The Wrath of Helen Otis™

I feel like Helen wasn't a huge outside person before meeting you.

But between pictures on your camera roll of you and your friends' adventures and just listening to the way you speak about the Great Outdoors? He's intrigued as hell now and goes on a nature walk with you on an easy forest mountain trail, nothing too challenging or taxing.

And suddenly he just understood everything you'd been talking about.

A special activity he likes to do just the two of you is this: you think of and describe to him a cryptid and he paints it following your description. Then he listens to any stories or folklore for that cryptid.

Its normally exactly the way you pictured it in your head (it's actually pretty uncanny).

Thinks it's cool that you're going to mortician's school. He's always been interested in medicine, but can't tolerate all the patients. But a mortician... They do medical things and have the quietest patient that are just so agreeable! What a genius career path (seriously, I'm on a wait list for an interview with the coroners office (Low turnover rates 😑)

Helen also likes playing in paint worn you (but I'm thinking that deserves a whole post of its own)

Helen also likes to paint while you write (sometimes he paints you writing about him painting). Its beautiful, really. Just two people who love each other enjoying their hobbies together in companionable silence 😍