#tw body dysphoria

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

The Boyfriend Experience - EM

Author's Note: This is very personal to me. I wrote this about my experieces and facts about myself. Which I know isn't very reader insert friendly but as my friend @boomhauer had said, for all I know, I'm not alone in this. This will be a mini series. Idk how many parts it will have but I wanted to do more than one.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x virgin!reader

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of weight, mentions of being overweight, body image issues, body dysphoria, self deprication, sexual experiences, lack of sexual experience, teasing, angst.

You do not have permission to copy, translate or repost my work onto other sites or social medias. This work is my own and it is owned by me.

Having a large friend group was nice. Nice enough, at least for you. Between the Hellfire boys and the party you were fortunate enough to have many friends. You were close to the party the most over the shared trauma of the upside down and things that go bump in the night. It was easy to be open with them so some topics of conversation didn’t bother you… until certain comments were made. You had never intended to let the information about yourself shift the dynamic of your friendships. At this point in your life, you had reluctantly accepted a fact about yourself when it came to romantic relationships and activities. However, your friend groups learning that you were a virgin even now past graduating high school seemed to change everything. It wasn’t like you wanted to seek out the first willing male participant and ‘get it over with’ as some past friends had told you to do before. You didn’t want that for yourself. It didn’t feel right for you.

The unfortunate thing about it was that no one was into you. That was something you had concluded on your own in your own time. It was either the pudge of your stomach and the squishiness of other parts of your body or simply your personality. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was all of it. You had spent many a time pinching, poking and prodding at your body in the mirror as tears silently slid down your cheeks. Most of the time you avoided reflective surfaces all together as it shattered the illusion of what you thought and wished you looked like. One look in a reflection made your confidence dwindle down to nothing like something small being dropped off of a skyscraper just to shatter on impact at the pavement below. So you wore baggy clothes. Hiding your figure was better than being gawked at for trying to wear clothes other girls, skinnier girls, pulled off effortlessly. The hammer that hit the nail on the head was when you noticed some things. Was it other people’s fault? No, it wasn’t. But when you went out with friends who were deemed more attractive than you and people approached them to talk to them while you stood there, drink in hand. It was hard not to notice. The icing on the cake had been the one time you were left standing at the bar, all your friends off talking to someone in the bar that had approached them while you played with the condensation that dripped down onto the bartop. 

You lacked social experiences. You had never been on a date before, never had a boyfriend either. You had a first kiss at least though it had been a long time ago. How your friends didn’t know this, you had no idea. A rousing game of truth or dare brought this information to light for everyone. The kids weren’t invited as it was an adults only party Steve had decided to throw. The Hellfire boys, Nancy, Robin, Steve, Jonathan and Argyle as well as yourself all sat in a circle with your respective drinks in hand. It had been your turn, so you chose truth, wanting a break for a moment as the dares got more daring as time went on and more alcohol was consumed. Drinking the ‘mega condiment’ as Argyle named it–a mixture of literally every condiment housed in the Harrington fridge–was not on your list of things to drink that night. Especially after seeing Robin gag after taking a sip of it. 

The Harrington house was big enough to house all of you. Not to mention a supplemental bar for when you all ran out of what you brought with yourselves. These ‘adults only’ parties tended to last all night with drinks, food and usually crashing there. At times it was movies or more importantly drinking games that were played at these events. Tonight the stack of playing cards had been retired early in favor of Truth or Dare. Jeff hummed as he thought over what he could ask you. His eyes lit up as he figured out his question. “Who did you lose your virginity to?” He asked you with a grin. It wasn’t uncommon for these question to get more personal and daring the more you all drank. So you weren’t necessarily surprised at the topic but the fact that it had been aimed at you, one of the only single people in attendance. Normally, these embarrassing personal questions were aimed at the couples.

You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment. As everyone waited for their answer, you simply looked away from Jeff and took a swig from your drink to avoid answering. That was one rule that had been put in place. You could opt out by drinking your drink. No questions asked. Or at least, no requirement to answer.

“Must be embarrassed about who it is.” Gareth chuckled with a small shrug as he drained the last of his beer.

“Or she didn’t lose it at all.” Jeff playfully jokes, but something on your face must have given it away as Jeff’s eyes widened in realization. “You haven’t lost it?!” He gasped.

“How? You’re like… in your twenties.” 

“I just haven’t. Alright?” You practically snapped at Gareth and Jeff.

“Well, have you come close? Like on a date getting hot and heavy with someone?” Steve asked, leaning over to hand Gareth another beer after popping the bottle cap off with his bare hand.

“No… I’ve never been on a date so,” You mumbled into your cup as you took another drink.

“You’ve never been on a date?!” Nancy asked, shock written on her face. “I thought Ethan when we were soph-”

“Yeah. He stood me up and made jokes about it for a week after.” You cut Nancy off with a tight smile. “I’m not girlfriend material, apparently. Now if you’ll excuse me.” You pushed yourself off of the floor and headed for Steve’s kitchen to make yourself another drink. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment and you could feel tears threatening to breach the barrier of your lower lashes. At times, you could brave the embarrassment of being a virgin at your age. However now again you found yourself longing for something you had not had the privilege of having. Yearning for a connection to someone who likes you for who you are, not necessarily what you look like. When those feelings hit you, it was hard not to be hurt at the realization that you might never have these experiences. You could hear laughter in the other room, the immediate assumption in your fragile state that it was about you. Your lower lip wobbled as you opened the container of cranberry juice, pouring a full glass of it knowing adding more alcohol would make it harder to compose yourself now and you’d like to leave with a shred of your dignity left intact.

“Enough.” You heard Eddie’s voice snap, presumably at the Hellfire boys as he usually reigned them in. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks quickly before going to grab the hoodie you had abandoned on the back of a kitchen chair earlier. You needed the comfort, shielding your body away before you trudged back into the room of your friends with your mask back on firmly in place.

Since then, things have been different. Your lack of experiences, lack of romance and lack of self confidence were sore spots for you. Some told you you simply weren’t trying hard enough. As if it were that easy to just make people like you. Or want you for more than just what was between your thighs or under your shirt. As if anyone would want to see that. Since the night of the party, the group made it a point to keep certain topics of conversation to a minimum or overall stopping the conversation when you joined the group. As if they didn’t think you would notice. It was hard to ignore that the topics of recent date nights ceased the second you were close enough to them all. With hushed ‘later’s, ‘not now’s and ‘I’ll finish telling you later’s being the main indication when you manage to hear them.

“Okay, I’ll bite.” You sighed as you crossed your arms over the counter of Family Video, looking at Steve and Robin expectantly. You had heard their conversation when you walked in there but when you approached the counter Steve had quickly shushed Robin from talking further. “What are you both talking about?” You asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” Robin waved you off with a smile as she rang up the movie you had brought over.

“I was just telling Robin about my date the other night. After we had dinner we started getting hot and heavy in my car, went to Lovers Lake to have-”

“Shh! Steve, innocent ears! We have to keep her purity intact.” Robin shushed him, smacking him in the chest.

Your face fell. “Excuse me?” You asked Robin in a clipped tone, not bothering to hide your anger and annoyance.

The air had shifted as had the mood. Robin’s face fell as she realized that her joke had not been amusing to you but instead upset you. “It’s just that… No, Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that!” Robin apologized quickly.

You scoffed, pulling your wallet out and throwing cash onto the counter to cover the movie and a packet of Red Vines. “Thanks.” You mumbled, snatching up the movie and a packet of Red Vines before heading out of the store quickly.

—----------

It was movie night. That was the reason for your trip into Family Video that week. The Hellfire group would have a movie night once every week or so. Everyone brought in a movie and you all would decide which ones to watch. You sat on the couch, always having privileges for the couch per Eddie’s orders since in his words: you are the lady here. You sat beside Eddie, sharing your Red Vines with him while he shared his popcorn with you. Since that day in Family Video you hadn’t seen neither Steve nor Robin, actively avoiding both of them. You had mumbled an acceptance of Robin’s apology when she called but hadn’t wanted to see either of them. It got worse though. Almost all of your friends had made a joke about your lack of experience thus far. If there wasn’t a joke about it there was reassurance that didn’t feel so reassuring. Nancy had tried to reassure you that there was nothing wrong with being a virgin still at your age. Eddie, Jonathan and Argyle seemed to be the only ones smart enough to not make any comments about the subject. Something you praised God for. Now it was the end of the week and you were just ready for everyone to move past this once and for all. 

On the screen in front of you was a horror movie. Something you weren’t unfamiliar with. You sighed as you sunk into the couch with Eddie. You watched as two teens snuck away with the intention of having fun with one another and felt your mood sour. You waited for it. Some kind of comment to be passed your way.

“These are always so cheesy and these parts? Boring.” Lucas complained, tossing pieces of popcorn at the screen itself.

“That’s because you’ve never experienced it, Sinclair.” Gareth laughed, nudging the other boy.

“As if he should listen to any advice from you.” Eddie nudged Gareth with his foot.

“I’m full of advice! Good advice!” He argued back with Eddie.

“Suuure you are.” You added, “None of you seem like you’d know what to do anyway. Just fumble and ask where things are.”

“Oh, please!” Freak laughed and grinned at you. “Here’s something we can at least tell you, Y/N.” His tone took on one you would use when speaking to a child, “When a man and a woman love each other, his peepee goes in the hole between your legs. That’s where you put it. In case you didn’t know since you’re still a virgin.”

“Freak, knock it off.” Eddie hissed in his direction.

You didn’t even dignify him with an answer. You stood up, stepping over Gareth and Jeff as you made your way to the door. 

“Y/N?” Eddie called, but you didn’t dare look behind you. Instead, you slid your jacket onto your body, picked up your bag and threw open the door to Eddie’s trailer deciding to leave the movie you rented there.

You hopped down onto the porch, the screen door behind you smacking shut loudly as you bounded off the porch and over to your car. You heard the door open back up behind you and Eddie called out your name again. You ignored him, sliding into your car and peeling away from the trailer park like your ass was on fire. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, ignoring the tears sliding down your cheeks. It was one thing to hear jokes that you were still a virgin. It was another thing to have people demean you thinking you were innocent and didn’t know anything because of it. You weren’t a fucking child. You knew probably more than they did about the female body and what to do. Years of hearing your peers talk about it had been informative enough. 

As soon as you got to your apartment, you shuffled yourself inside and shut the door tightly behind you. You crumbled. You were embarrassed and upset, wanting to just crawl in a hole and forget this week had ever happened. You pulled yourself up, trudging to the bathroom and taking a hot shower before pulling on panties, sweatpants and a tank top deciding to leave the death trap on the floor of the bathroom. You moved to the living room, seeking out a new movie to put on in the hopes it would distract yourself from the disastrous night. You put on one of your favorites before tucking yourself into your couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket and pillow. You only got through about fifteen minutes of the film before there was a knock on your door. You ignored it, favoring pretending you weren’t home or didn’t exist than face whoever was on the other side of that wooden barrier. The knocking came again, harder and more insistent this time.

“Go away!” You called out to the door. You assumed it was Freak, Gareth and Jeff. No doubt sent there by Eddie to apologize for upsetting you. He never let the other guys bother you too much. 

“Open up, sweetheart. It’s me.” The man you thought had sent others to your door was actually the one behind it.

“No.” You called back out. You were thankful that Eddie didn’t make fun of you like the others did or comment on it. But you were embarrassed and felt ugly. 

“Please? I have something for you.” You sighed. Knowing Eddie he would either camp out in front of your door or more likely pick your lock or climb through your window in your bedroom if you didn’t let him in. You pulled yourself up off the couch and went to the door, unlocking it and opening up the door. His smile was wide and bright when you opened the door. His arms were laden with items and he nudged you with his foot. “May I come in?” He asked you, batting his lashes at you.

You stepped aside, letting the lanky metalhead into your home. Eddie moved inside of your apartment quickly and you watched him like he was some foreign entity in your home. Eddie had been in your apartment before but never alone with you. It was always accompanied by one of your friends. He had just never come here by himself. You wouldn’t have thought so though as he effortlessly placed down the items in his arms. He had a pizza box with him, two shopping bags and a backpack on his back. From the plastic bags he pulled out some beer, candy and movies presumably from his own home. “What’re you doing here, Eddie?” You sighed, shutting your door and moving back to your couch. You burrowed yourself under your blanket again, pillow tucked behind your back. “Where are the guys?”

“Well, you left clearly upset, and I kicked the guys out.” Eddie answered nonchalantly. He stopped his movements of sorting out the treats he brought to look at you. “They shouldn’t have said what they said.” He spoke softly, watching you.

You took a breath. “Thank you… You didn’t have to come here though.” You mumbled, crossing your arms.

“I wanted to.” Eddie waved you off. “Now, I’m gonna go change cause we’re having a sleepover. I have your favorite.” He flipped open the pizza box to reveal your favorite toppings. “I will be back!” He took his backpack into your bedroom. You leaned over, assessing the pizza and snacks he had brought with him for you. You took a slice of pizza and gently began munching on it, trying to fight off the negative thoughts about how this food wasn’t good for you and wouldn’t help your situation but only deepen the purple stretch marks on your stomach and thighs.

When Eddie returned, he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a faded Judas Priest t-shirt. He dropped down onto the couch on the opposite side of you and picked up a slice of pizza, taking a huge bite out of the food. He settled down, wiggling your blanket out from under him to get under the fabric and be comfortable with you. You both sat like that for a while, watching the movie you had put on and eating the pizza. Eventually one of the movies Eddie had brought with him was put on. You both fell into a comfortable silence but you knew it would eventually break.

As the second movie played you were about halfway through it when Eddie finally spoke up. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked you, turning his head to look at you. You turned your head to meet his eyes and felt your walls crumble. You wanted to say no… but with Eddie’s gaze on you, it was hard to compose yourself. You flashed back to what happened not too long ago and over the week in general. You didn’t realize that more tears began to slide down your cheeks. “I’m just so sick of everyone thinking I’m innocent just because I haven’t fucked someone. I’m not an idiot. I’m not a child. I fucking know things.” You sobbed quietly, hurriedly wiping at your cheeks. “It’s not my fault I’m not the kind of girl anyone wants.” You felt the couch shift as Eddie moved closer, the weight of his arm falling over your shoulders. He moved your legs over his lap, tucking you into his side as you cried. “They act like it was somehow my choice. Like I haven’t wanted to have a boyfriend, have sex, go on dates, be loved by someone. If it were my choice I would’ve done all those things! But no one is interested in me. How is that my fault?” You babbled on, tucking your face against Eddie’s chest and finding comfort in the smell of him.

“First of all, they were wrong to make you seem like you don’t know shit. Second of all, you are absolutely the kind of girl people want. Smart people who have eyes and aren’t selfish assholes. I know if you had the choice, you would’ve done those things. Clearly, since this upsets you so much, babe. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time.” Eddie spoke softly, his thumb rubbing your skin comfortingly as he spoke.

“Sure, Eddie. Whatever you say.” You murmured, feeling drained from the week itself. A silence fell over the two of you as you felt your insecurities swallow your mind. “Maybe if I was skinnier… prettier. Like Nancy, smart too.” You mumbled. You gasped when Eddie suddenly moved back. You looked at him and he had moved back to stare at you. What shocked you was the anger on his face.

“Do not. Say that.” He spoke sternly, watching you. “There is nothing wrong with you. Your body, your mind, nothing.”

“But-”

“No!” Eddie frowned, a crease forming between his brows as he showed his unhappiness at your lack of self-confidence. “No buts! Yours is phenomenal, by the way.” He was moving before you could even process what you just heard, your cheeks warming when you realized. He was pulling at your legs. You made a small sound as he pulled you til you were laying on your couch. You adjusted the pillow that had once been behind your back to be behind your head instead, deciding to humor Eddie. You knew him well enough that he would say what he wanted to say whether you wanted to hear it or not. He was never shy to share his opinion, sometimes unprompted. “Look,” Eddie moved on top of you. He straddled your thighs as his hair fell over your face like a curtain. Without thinking about it you moved his hair back from his face. “Hi, pretty girl.” Eddie grinned at you. You pouted at him, using one hand to tug on his earlobe. He whined and winced, “Ow.” he mumbled softly. Eddie’s hands moved from holding himself up above you instead favoring to rest his body against yours. You grunt softly at the new weight but it wasn’t bothering you. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You huff and Eddie grins back at you.

“Shh. Hold on. I’m gonna give you the boyfriend experience, okay. Let me show you how pretty you are.” He shushed you, moving his hand up to your face. His middle finger gently ran over your forehead, moving down the bridge of your nose. Your eyebrows were creased in confusion as you took in what he was doing but your breath hitched in your throat as his lips pressed between your eyebrows, smoothing the crease away. His soft touch moved down over the tip of your nose down to your cupid’s bow before moving over your cheekbone. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. You were fumbling as you processed the fact that Eddie Munson was kissing your face. His lips followed his finger as he kissed your cheek bone. More kisses followed over your cheek, jaw and chin. 

“Ed-”

“Shhh,” He softly shushed you again, middle finger moving over your top lip before running over your lower lip. You waited, holding your breath. That breath escaped you when Eddie pressed his lips to yours. You knew what to do, of course, pressing your lips back to Eddie’s but truly you were sure you were a horrible kisser. His hand now cupped your cheek as his lips moved against yours like he was trying to show you what to do. Soon you melted in his embrace, just enjoying kissing him. His lips were slightly chapped but soft and you made a mental note to share your cherry lip balm with him so he didn’t crack his lips. Eddie’s lips left yours though and you whimpered softly as he moved away. A breathy chuckle left him. “You have to breathe, pumpkin. Okay?” He murmured, nose nudging yours gently. Then he was moving again. He tucked his head into your neck, peppering kisses against your skin. He kissed over your collarbones before kissing the tops of your breasts. “No bra when you’re at home? I should come visit more often.” He mumbled against your skin, running his nose over your cloth covered mounds. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a devilish smile on his lips. 

“Gonna come over more often now cause I don’t wear a bra at home?” You scoffed and Eddie nodded against you. 

“Mhm, and cause I can see your nipples through your tank top.” He chuckled and moved his hands down to your hips. His hands moved back up, pushing your tank top up. You reached for his hands but he stopped just under your breasts. “Not going further. I didn’t ask permission yet.” He murmured and shuffled down your body. His nose nudged gently at your stomach, admiring the pudginess that was there. He began scattering kisses over your soft flesh. Over stretch marks ranging from soft pink, barely there to fresh purple ones. You squirmed a little under him, cheeks warming in embarrassment and self consciousness. “You’re so cute.” He mumbled against your skin, looking up at you. You pouted, feeling tears tug at your lashes again. “No crying, baby.” He murmured, “Not wanting to make you feel bad. Just wanna admire you.” You sniffled, gently wiping at your eyes as you nodded down at him. You were unsure of Eddie’s plan. Why he was doing this and how far he was going to go but you were going to give him his time, enjoying the limited attention he was affording you.

Eddie waited for you to calm down before he continued. He kissed over your hips, hands moving to pull your sweatpants down slightly. He pulled the material down over your legs, setting them aside and you froze again. He bypassed your panties which made you pout a little but you knew Eddie had a plan. His kisses continue over the tops of your thighs before moving to kiss the sides of them. He lifted one of your legs, lips moving down your calf and over your ankle before he kissed the top of your foot. When he was satisfied that he had covered you in enough kisses he grabbed your sweatpants and pulled the material back over your legs and settled himself on top of you again once you were clothed again. Eddie had laid himself so his head rested at your neck. One arm snaked under your body while his other hand moved to gently run his fingers through your hair. 

“You can call me crazy if you want,” Eddie mumbled against your skin. “But what if I gave you the boyfriend experience. Doesn’t have to go anywhere. Just… show you what you’re missing.” 

You blinked, thinking over Eddie’s suggestion. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Eddie. You liked him a lot especially once you saw the soft side of the scary looking metal head. You figured you weren’t his type despite the affection he’d shown you tonight. So what was the harm in taking him up on gaining some experience? You hummed softly and stroked your fingers through his hair. “Yeah… I’d like that.” You murmured quietly, feeling the smile that spread over his lips before he pressed a kiss to your throat. 

Eventually the two of you moved so you could enjoy the slightly cold pizza Eddie had brought you both. The two of you ate most of it, tucking the rest into the fridge. You yawned gently as you packed up the snacks and Eddie’s hands gently grabbed at your arms to stop you. He steered you towards your room, shutting the tv off on the way. Inside your room you crawled into bed and laid on your side, figuring Eddie would help himself to wherever he wanted to sleep. The bed dipped beside you and Eddie shuffled closer to you. “An important part of the boyfriend experience, cuddling.” He murmured as he pressed himself to your back. He tangled his legs with yours, holding onto you. You could feel that he had shed his shirt before climbing into bed with you. His hand rested on your belly and you resisted the urge to move it. You didn’t even like touching your own belly but someone else touching the area made you want to crawl out of your skin. After a few minutes though you relaxed enough, gently falling asleep in his arms.

—----------------------------------------

The next morning you had woken up still in Eddie’s embrace. He was holding onto you tightly, gentle snores falling from his lips. You picked up his arm, attempting to wiggle free from his hold at first until he tightened his arm around you further. You huffed but smiled, picking up his arm again and getting free. You padded out of your room to the kitchen and started to brew some coffee. You grabbed what you needed to make some simple bacon and eggs for you both, humming as you did so. As you added some cheese into the eggs you heard him before you felt him. He had just managed to step on one of the creaky floor boards. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you and his head found home on your shoulder. 

“You left me,” He mumbled against your skin.

“I made breakfast.” You answered, plucking up a piece of bacon and offering it to him.

Eddie lifted his head and bit into the bacon, chewing thoughtfully. “All is forgiven.”

You chuckled and shook your head, finishing the other half of the strip of salty pork before returning to moving the eggs around. Eddie removed himself from you to grab the plates you set aside for you both. He held both as you scooped some eggs onto the plates before placing bacon strips onto them. Eddie took them to the table as you popped toast into the toaster and started to make your cup of coffee. Once all the food was ready you both sat down to eat. You found your eyes wandering to the boy that sat beside you. Eddie’s hair was a frizzy mess from sleeping with it loose last night. His torso and arms were toned and not overly muscular. You figured he lifted a lot of heavy things having heard he worked at a mechanics shop now. Blotches of scars were on his arms and torso from where the demobats had feasted on his flesh but you didn’t find them repulsive. It made Eddie look rugged in a way. Even if his nipple and his chest tattoos had suffered because of it. His rings were absent, most likely sitting on your bedside table now.

“Like what you see?” 

You moved your eyes away from Eddie’s chest to look at his face. He smiled at you. A kind, warm smile like you guys had known one another a long time. His big chocolate orbs watched you carefully but as he shifted the sun caught his eyes, turning them amber. You chuckled at the scrunch of his nose and the squint of his eyes as they were invaded by the sun. You stood up, moving to your window and pulling the sheer curtains together. “I like natural light.” You told him, returning to your seat. 

Eddie hummed, picking up your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Thank you for breakfast.” He murmured with another bright smile.

“You brought me dinner last night. It’s only fair.” You reason with a small shrug. When you finish your meal you put your plate in the sink and refill your mug before retiring to your couch once again under your blanket. Eddie joins you moments later, slipping under your blanket and shifting closer to you, arm around your shoulders. You turned the TV on, finding something to watch as you sip your coffee. You only look away when a gentle tap comes to your chin and you turn your head, Eddie lips pressing to yours. 

“Forgot to properly tell you good morning.” He murmured against your lips.

You feel your face warm, kissing Eddie again. “Good morning,” You murmured.

“Good morning,”

—-------------------------

You and Eddie spent the day together. You watched TV, made lunch and finally talked about what you would both be doing. Eddie offered a no strings attached experience, explaining that he would provide you with the experience of what it was like to have a boyfriend and whatever else you might like at no cost to you besides your time.

“You don’t want anything?” You asked, raising a brow at the boy.

Eddie nodded his head. “Nothing.”

“There has to be something you want to be doing this.”

Eddie hummed and shook his head again. “I’m getting it already.”

“What?”

He smiled at you and reached for your hand. “What I want… is you.” He murmured, “Stupid, I know. Me being an option but I’m happy just… filling the role for you. Til you find what you want.”

That was the thing. You didn’t know what you wanted. You wanted to be loved, yes. Someone who wanted you. Which Eddie claimed he was that person. Someone who wanted you. That was something difficult for you to grasp. Why would someone want somebody as imperfect as you are? You were a burden, an issue. Or simply just the thing in the corner that was easily ignored. You simply nodded at Eddie’s words though and leaned over, pressing your lips to his even if you didn’t believe a word he said.

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#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eeddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fic #tw weight #tw self deprication #tw body dysphoria

[jingsyuans]

. . . cw ; jing yuan x afab reader, gender/body dysphoria, post-smut, slice of life, unfinished drabble

—

You’ve managed yourself quite well during your first time with Jing Yuan. This was something you’d been wanting- desiring- for so long that you knew how to navigate through the pulses. Knew how to redirect his hands when they were between your legs a little too long, knew how to shift your hips so you could ignore the discomfort and focus on the pleasure. Small things that, for the most part, didn’t warrant a second glance.

But when it was all over, heaving breathes and sweaty skin, it was a little harder. Jing Yuan was loving of course, pressing kisses on your skin and his hands making smoothing motions on your hips.

But then he started to pull out- because it was over now, and that’s what you normally do. Yet your breath hitches, hand darting to grab Jing Yuan’s arm. That’s enough to make him stop entirely, which you’re grateful for.

“Please… wait,” you swallow, feeling all kinds of fresh vulnerability and insecurity despite just having sex with this man. This is different. “Please don’t move.”

“Alright,” easily, Jing Yuan agrees. His golden eyes carefully sweeping across your body, analyzing you as his voice goes soft. “Can I touch you?” His hands previously on your hips begin to move away, but you’re quick to grab them.

“Mm,” you nod, leading the comforting warmth of his palms up your torso. “Up here. Please.”

Jing Yuan smiles, slowly leaning down and careful not to move his hips to much as he does. “May I kiss you?” He asks next, hands already busy distracting you with the invisible patterns of comfort they trace along your skin. You can’t help but let out an amused puff of air, eyebrows furrowed. Tilting your head up to meet him halfway and sink into his kiss.

“Of course,” you murmur against his lips at some point. You’ve just laid together, after all, and a kiss is completely reasonable considering everywhere else your mouths have been on each other’s bodies. Yet you still appreciate the question all the same.

Jing Yuan continues on like this, touching you and kissing you for several minutes as your body starts to relax. Despite not knowing what’s going on in your head completely, Jing Yuan is a smart man and he seems to know just what to do.

Knows exactly when you’re distracted enough that he can slowly slip out of you, and this time it doesn’t ring alarm bells in your head. You still grunt against his mouth all the same, soreness and that same discomfort you can never describe in pulsing from between your legs. But it’s not as bad.

“I’m going to go get us some water,” Jing Yuan says quiet against your cheek. “And a towel.” You huff but kiss the side of his nose and let him leave the bed anyway. You are quite thirsty, and focusing on that rather than everything else is good. In the time you wait for him to come back, you sit up and spread your legs on the bed, tilting your hips to find the most comfortable way to sit where you can’t feel your sex and your clit as much as possible. Despite the pleasure being shoved into you minutes prior, you can’t help but sigh and feel the agitation burning in your chest.

You wish you didn’t feel these things. While it doesn’t ruin the experience of being with somebody, it certainly isn’t something that you enjoy.

When Jing Yuan returns, he’s careful as he shuffles back on the bed, as if aware of your situation and not wanting to interrupt your position. He hands you the water first, which you take greedy gulps of.

It’s only when you’re halfway through the glass that you stop, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” you hold the glass toward him. “Did you have any?”

Jing Yuan’s eyes crinkle when he smile, an amused kind of love in them that makes your heart pound. His hand meets your wrist and pushes the glass back toward you. “I did when I was getting you a glass. Go ahead, it’s all yours.”

You hum your thanks quietly as you drink the rest, and then your eyes move down to the rag and your lips purse.

“I usually take it upon myself to clean up my partner after everything,” Jing Yuan starts. He meets your eye. “Would you rather do it yourself?”

This man. You hate how perceptive he is, but love it as well. “I’ll do it,” you sigh, handing him the empty glass when he gestures for it. “Thank you. I’m just going to wait a minute. Is there anything I can do for you?”

Stretching languidly across the mattress to put the glass on the nightstand, Jing Yuan relaxed beside you and puts a hand on your calf. You can’t help the giddy flip in your stomach when he does- loving that he isn’t too scared to touch you.

You like the touch. His touch especially. There’s only one area that bothers you, but the rest is free rein really.

“I’m completely fine, though your consideration is appreciated.” He smiles warm, resting on his side with his arm propped below him as he continues to rub his hand up and down your leg. “Would you like to tell me?”

His question is vague, left up to you to decide what exactly you would be telling.

“It’s just… uncomfortable,” you tell him, because you want to. Because there’s no reason not to. “Especially when my body is still… aroused. I can’t describe it. I just…” you sigh, defeated as you rest a hand against your forehead. “Can’t.”

“Mm.” Jing Yuan shuffles closer to you, arm now looping around your ankle as he kisses your calf. You can’t help but smile at the several little pecks he leaves, almost tickling you. Your hand finds way into his hair without much thought and another hum rumbles out of his throat.

“You’re more into dirty talk than I expected,” you say suddenly. The sound of Jing Yuan’s laughter makes you chuckle in turn, cheeks warm and pleased.

“You’re everything that I expected,” he says in turn. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“Everything, huh? Really?”

“Really.” His grin is smug, infectious as his eyes shine up at you. You huff out another laugh, hand moving through his bangs almost lovingly.

“Thought about it a lot, did you?”

“Oh, yes,” Jing Yuan goes back to kissing your leg. “I have quite a lot of idle time where the mind is prone to wander. You understand.”

Of course you do. More times than you can count, your mind has wandered to Jing Yuan, and it wasn’t always dirty. Most times, it was just plain pathetic yearning. You have a feeling Jing Yuan isn’t much different.

#obviously a more self-insert than usual #fiction is easy to slide into for an easier narrative on things that aren’t always so easy. no one really talks about how uncomfortable #the aftermath can be #and sometimes the inbetween too #it is for me anyway! I hate feeling like that #so we vent via story #tw body image #tw body dysphoria #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan reader insert

[anxious-witch]

Analysis of Jan and Nace photos number two, because I am insane and I kept rearranging the pictures to get a coherent story.

For the record, this isn't only subjective at this point, I am legit clowning, but I am having feels and idc.

Light and dark, or as @c28hunter pointed out, ying and yang. (Perhaps a theme? Since Kris and Bojan were water and fire, Nace and Jan are light and dark?)

I'd go with this being them before each other.

Doesn't necessarily have to be before they met, although that's certainly one way to look at it. But this is them before they truly connected.

Nace is in the harsh light, he feels too exposed, like all his imperfections are on display. He is all too aware of it, gripping his shirt tightly and crossing his arms over his chest. In that way, only his arms and tattoos are on display, his chest staying hidden.

When he is alone, in the light, he is tortured by his thoughts, and he tries to particularly hide his face with his hands in picture two. In picture three, he has clearly been gagged, his face twisted up from all the ways he tried to make himself fit into something he is not. Into something acceptable in the eyes of others.

Jan, on the other hand, is cloud in darkness. Dark background and the light that illuminates his features is softer, leaving more gray.

He stays in the shadows, and covers up his face with his hand and hair. We are not prvy to all of him. And yet, the first picture is giving a sense of resignation. He looks tired. He is looking at us, he knows he is being observed, even in part and he wants nothing to with it.

In the second picture, he looks more distrustful, his eyes away from the camera and covered by his hair. Almost as if he is giving someone off the frame a side eye. Maybe showing his own distrust, even to those that aren't looking to dig things up about him?

The two I put as next are these. On the left, we have Jan and Nace in the sane shot, but not quite a unit yet. But we already see a change here. They are both now clouded more in the shadow, Nace even more so than Jan, as if Jan is giving him the protection of his shadow here.

Nace looks intently into the camera, but he doesn't look tortured or afraid in the same way he did when he was alone, under the light. He still hides his body, this time with a coat, we don't even see his neck, only his face.

Jan on the other hand, lost that resignation we saw in the first part. He still looks mistrustful, but now he has something to lose. He keeps a close eye on us, while still he remains partially hidden.

On the picture on the right, we get a glimpse of the true intimacy between them. They stare at each others' eyes. There is a palpable softness, even as their noses are blurred with the soft gray. As many ppl pointed out, it almost looks like they are in the shower, partially covered by fog from the hot water, or behind a glass door.

The care they have for one another is the focus, not their reaction to the viewer. They don't know they are being seen.

In comparison to the left one above, this picture has harsher lines. They are being more exposed and Jan is stepping closer to Nace, once again, showing that underlying protectivness. But Nace isn't scared, he is showing off his face fully and giving us an intense stare. He isn't alone in the light anymore, and Jan makes him brave.

Another intimate moment of them laughing. Jan's face further softens and he looks almost silly. Nace's eyes are half closed in laughter. It's giving us a glimpse of how they are safe and happy when there is no one watching. There is more light, but compared to the photo on the left, the light isn't harsh.

Then we get to this. The first time I saw this picture, I immediately thought "this is on the verge of being sexual". But on the closer inspection, this picture conveys sm more than that.

It's a callback to Nace's individual photos, where he was gagged and twisted up. After he and Jan met, he got more comfortable speaking up, forgetting about the viewer. Even here, he isn't looking at us, but rather at Jan because we matter less now. What matters is Jan.

But Jan is still very aware that we are watching. He covers Nace's mouth, but if we look at his hand, it's almost gentle. It's a warning of someone who cares. It's as if he is saying "don't speak before you are ready".

And at last, we get to these. Inverted from the start, we get Jan's cover of darkness first. I am still unsure if Nace is present in the shot at the edge of the picture or not, but either way, I still think this picture can be ready as another way of Jan protecting Nace from our view.

He is taking the toll of our gaze on himself and staring back defiantly. "I have something to lose now, and I will not let you touch it any more than I allow." Gone is the resignation, and instead there is a fierce protector born out of it. The dark that used to resign him is now a way to keep someone he loves safe(in whichever way that love may manifest).

Then we have Nace. Nace who is once again in the light, but it's far from the harsh one he was in before. And Nace doesn’t hide from it and neither does he preform.

He has bits of himself he wants to show on display and he is comfortable with being seen. He feels safe.

To be loved is to be changed. And they both changed, finding balance within each other. I don't know if this was how the pictures were meant to be sorted, but I certainly had fun analyzing them this way.

If anyone has anything to add or maybe wants to switch something around, I'd love to know your thoughts! Sorry for emotional ramblings on a random Tuesday, lmao

#joker out #rio rambles #jance #jan peteh #nace jordan #tw body dysphoria #tw body insecurity #rio's analysis

[quins-makeshift-menagerie]

Damn that dysphoria got hands

#the nb/gender-fluid desire to be a shapeshifter #n-no I did NOT rewatch nimona and get emotional about my lack of shapeshifting abilities SHUT #tw body horror #tw body dysphoria #I guess??? #vent #sure #art #2023

[the-skybrary]

Our head protector, Raph, wanted to make a comic documenting some of his personal experiences, since he's a unique case to our system. Part of it was to vent and get the thoughts out of his head, but mostly he just wanted to send a positive message out into the community. We hope it finds you well.

Transcript of the dialogue below the cut:

I’m not like everyone else here. Most of this system is made up of various versions of the core, and they all look like some alternative of the body. A sporty version, a goth version, a punk version, a motherly version. But all of them are her in some way, shape, or form. 

There are some fictives here, too, of course. The ratio is about 4:1 though. A majority of the fictives have little to no source memories. They aren’t exactly who they’re based on, they’re their own individual, and they are able to separate themselves from their source. 

I can’t. I’m an outlier here. 

I have pseudo memories. I remember a life before I came here, and that makes things complicated. Especially because I have a very important job to do. 

As a protector, I stand by to help us through everything we’re going through externally. I have experience with dealing in heavy survival-mode situations, and that’s why I believe I was chosen to be here. But…it also means I ended up being given a lot of trauma memories from the body to hold onto, in addition to my own. 

I’ve made my peace with my role here. I like it, actually. I have a partner, and a family, unique to this system. I have friends, and I’ve even been able to meet and talk to my source family in other systems. 

Although I can’t ignore the way I feel sometimes, living in a body…in a life…that is not my own. 

I can’t ignore the real emotions I experience when my source updates. Seeing my family in distress or danger, and being unable to do anything to help causes me intense anxiety. Sometimes if body is having a bad day, the memories will sneak up on me. Other times we’ll see a part reblogged and it will trigger an intense emotion. Sometimes it gets so bad that it affects the entire body and system even when I’m not at front.

I would like to clarify, though, that I’ve never blamed the artist/creator for any of that. As a matter of fact, I think I lucked out with Cass’s Apocalyptic Series being my source. They’re good to me, to my story, and my family. It’s just hard some days, being able to see your life laid out like that to the world.

I feel like a river that was once whole, and then forked to become two. Suddenly I’m going in a different direction, and the path is unfamiliar. I’m me, but I’m not him. I’m us, but I’m not her. I have both memories from source and from body, and it makes me feel…wrong. 

I don’t belong here. I can’t mask well. I don’t know how to walk in a body this small. My voice is    too feminine when I speak. Being without a shell makes me feel naked, even with clothes on. My claws and strength are gone. All of it is just reminder after reminder that I’m not truly Raph anymore. If I ever even was. ‘Pseudo’ means ‘false’. Fake. Pretend. Unreal. 

But I’m Real. The me that exists here and now is real. I eat, I dance, I have hobbies and favorite TV shows. I talk to people in our life, and I form unique relationships with them. I exist. I am a part of this system, and that in turn makes Raph real.

I can’t explain why I have memories and emotions linked to my source. I can’t explain why I formed so differently than the others here. I’m struggling with my identity as I try to balance my job as a system protector with my place in the Outside World, and it’s a lot. Some days I feel stupid and ashamed. Some days I feel okay with it. Some days I don’t care. 

I don’t think there’s a right or wrong way to be an alter in a system, no matter what your relationship is to that source, or even based on what your source is! You’ll figure out your own answers with time. They may not be easy answers, and they might make certain things difficult, but I think the most important thing is how you choose to move forward with it all. 

We have a saying in my family: Antawa Hitorijani. I guess I just wanted to let you know, if you’re out there and you relate to any of this, that you are not alone. And that I’m not alone either. None of us are.

~ Raph

#osdd system #system art #alter art #fictive #fictive alter #system #system things #dissociative system #system posting #system problems #osdd 1b #did osdd #osdd community #did community #dissociative disorder #depersonalization #osdd vent #tw death #tw anxiety attack #tw body dysphoria

[onejellyfishplease]

Let’s take role call.

Open Your Shell to Find Your Wings: Donnie gets mutated again partway to a beetle

The Connections of a Soul: Donnie looses his physical body

Unmutated Donnie au: Donnie gets, well, unmutated

… I’m sensing a theme here

#why am I like this #why can’t I leave him alone #Oh there was also that future au where he became a cyborg #damn that’s four #this is why no one wants to be my favourite character #I project myself onto them #and me does not like their body… #so rip #ignore that rant in the tags actually #imma just #tw body dysphoria #don’t mind me #oooh new tag #jelly rants #<- there we go #lovely #anywho #I’ve become freaking possessed by unmutated Donnie #expect a new update tomorrow #I’m holding myself back from posting #because I need to sleep #…but it’s almost finished #tell you what #I’ll finish this rant here #and you can see if I was successful #and see if I post the next part in an hour or nah #if I do then I’ve failed #and please tell me to go to sleeep

[anti-endo-haven]

vent, body dysphoria/front dysphoria

host drew, i scripted. i'm slowly learning to look at the silver lining of being a retired hero, even if it was before i was ready.

like, i have a lot more time to spend with my boyfriend and brother, my life isn't constantly in danger. that's a little plus /silly

i dunno. just... kinda reiterating on the things our wilson fictive said in the comic HE scripted. "Where is the fresh air? I feel lost without fighting tooth and nail for my life."

i dunno, in my feels i guess

-🌴

The drawings are absolutely amazing.

Being a non-human alter in a human body can be terrible. I'm sorry for not entirely knowing how to help.

I hope things get better for you soon.

The quote is also fantastic. It's beautiful.

#🌴 #anti endo #did system #system #endos dni #osddid #traumagenic system #actually did #endos not for you #did plural #actually traumagenic #did plurality #osdd plural #osdd plurality #tw body dysphoria #tw front dysphoria #anti-endo-haven-vent #anti-endo-haven-vents

[durnesque-esque]

It's weird feeling pretty, but not photogenic.

I'm gaining a lot of muscle this year, but also age and genetics are coming for me. So I'm thicker in a lot of places and also my neck is doing that thing that everyone in my family gets as they get older.

But if I look in the mirror or take a selfie myself, I'm really happy. I can admire the parts of me that have changed. But then, being in a life that has me photographed and filmed a lot, I see myself from the lens of others. More often than not, I hate it.

It's stupid. It's like typical dysmorphia in reverse. I understand that photographs and film are all about light and angles. But it makes me feel like I'm delusional about what I must actually look like.

Anyway, just a thing I'm hyper aware of these days. And trying not to let get out of hand.

#tw body image #tw body dysphoria #body dysmorphia

[gooberscollage]

I wanted to archive this eBay listing I found, of two teenagers named Shannon and Betty using this notebook to pass notes circa 1986-1987

Image Credit to designsbytiti on eBay

#1980s #80s #eighties #notebook #journal #diary #vintage #friends #retro #notes #eBay #cw cursing #cw body talk #cw body dysphoria #tw body insecurity #tw body dysphoria

[melonbear51]

hmmmmm. do you have any extra-angsty/bittersweet fledgling concepts? any clan will do as long as it causes Sufficient Suffering {salute emoji}

Hello there Anon, and thank you for the ask! I love me an angsty fledgling concept, so this should interesting (and depressing)! So this is probably going to get dark, just as a warning. TW specifically for mentions of terminal illness, body dysmorphia and non-consensual body modification, miscarriage, and generally depressing themes. PLEASE DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THIS CONTENT IF YOU FEEL YOU CANNOT! I'm here to provide inspiration and ideas, and really don't want anyone to get hurt! 1. A young Salubri who witnessed their beloved sire get diablerized in front of them. They now seek the culprit in order to diablerize THEM so that they can be together with their sire once again, albeit in a tragic and twisted fashion. 2. A vampire of any bloodline who is working themselves to the undead bone in order to gain siring privileges from the prince in order to save their terminally-ill relative/friend/love interest. 3. A Malkavian painter who loved to paint portraits prior to their embrace. However, their madness is prosopagnosia, the inability to recognize or distinguish faces. Their work has grown more famous due to them having to get more creative with their portraits (Think "The Son of Man" by Magritte) but they are miserable and lonely from their inability to see others and have also grown incredibly paranoid as being unable to tell the difference between people sight-wise is incredibly dangerous. 5. A Thinblood who was embraced and then abandoned by their lover after they failed to manifest the traits of their bloodline. Desperate to regain their affection, they will do anything to catch their eye and gain enough power to be "worthy of their love." 6. A Tzimisce fledgling who served as a "canvas" for their abusive sire. Though they've managed to escape, their body has been changed without their consent and they no longer look or feel themselves as a result. Though they could theoretically be returned to their previous state, vicissitude brings back bad memories and even if they did go through with it, they still wouldn't feel like themselves. 7. ANYTHING involving a pregnant character getting turned, as the embrace doesn't allow for the carrying of children.

Hope these do the trick! And please make sure to take care of yourself mentally and physically 🤗

#vampire the masquerade v20 #vampire the masquerade #vampire chronicles #vampire the masquerade v5 #character concept #world of darkness #vtm v5 #vtm #ttrpgs #tw miscarriage #tw body dysmorphia #tw body dysphoria #tw depression #tw depressing stuff #do not read if you aren't in the right mindset #tzimisce #salubri #thinblood #duskborn #tw terminal illness #character ideas

[confused-n-queer]

So a video about Beastars gave me feelings

I just came back to this video about a year after having first watched it simply because it was in my recommended feed and I needed something to listen to and well I have left with a new litmus test for my internal growth. I feel how much my connection to the story being woven my both the creator of the video and the author of Beastars has changed in only one year. I have struggled a lot with my own sexuality gender and overall sense of self throughout my life and am only now feeling the chapter on my adolescence come to a close. When I first saw this video and read the manga I identified very strongly with Haru. Her perceived weakness as a rabbit mirrored my own having grown up as a short,unusually skinny girl with undressed health issues. I was often mad and unable to express it since my anger was seen as cute, nonthreatening, and pathetic. Any attempts at my beliefs or anger being taken seriously and being seen as an equal to my peers was met with jokes and threats. Haru's tough abrasive nature towards people she perceives as a potential threat is a defense mechanism I shared with her. I like many girls has been subjected to both what I would call aggressive sexualization, sexulization through direct comments about our clothing, bodies and behaviors as well as leering, cat-calling and all the other various degrees of sexual assault I don't wish to discuss and what I would call passive sexuialization which is the everyday messaging we received from family peers and media, aka everything from your mom telling you to put on a shirt and cover up long before you had breasts to the comments made by aunts about how "slutty" a girl walking down the street looked. My response to this was repressing my desires burring my longing to be a confident sexual being. To bury my desire to wear the short shorts and skirts and bra-less styles of the early 00's I saw modeled on my dolls and a few older girls. I wanted to be like Haru, or at least posses the sexual freedom and confidence people believe she has. Instead I felt I had to hide my burgeoning sexuality behind a screen. Instead of healthy experimentation with my peers I was introduced to sex through men far older than me online because I knew romance,dating and sex was "wrong" and "not something a girl my age thought about". So I hid full of shame so strong it nearly led me to end my own life. The craziest part, I wasn't raised in an exceptionally conservative home. My family was pretty normal, hell I was given books about puberty and was told, once, after years of pestering (something I never did as I was, in retrospect and due to trauma, a disturbingly obedient child something I'll touch on later) what sex was and was sort of permitted to learn about sex from a scientific perspective. It wasn't until my freshman year of collage that I began to unlearn all of my shame and allow myself to be and accept myself as a sexual being, you know the thing I should've been allowed to do and that most people do while going through puberty. I joined a production of RHPS and drove over an hour to the main campus and back every week to rehearse for a show where being sexual was a given, and where the words that had been embedded into my chest were shouted without malice. It was a place where "slut" and "queer" weren't dirty they just were. I had my first kiss a few months before my 19th birthday with a girl who was so kind to me and who treated me with such sincere affection and respect that I as I write this am left sobbing thinking of all she did for me. I wish I could reach out to thank her without it being weird or potentially harmful since we haven't talked since the pandemic forced a weird mutual ghosting breakup a few months into our relationship and I don't know her current situation.

I was also always "playing nurse" (of both the standard and psych-ward variety) for friends,family and strangers due to trauma and my ability to do so like Haru but in the words of John Mulany "We don't have time to unpack all of that." so I'll leave it at that.

This time around I related to Legoshi so much it hurt. My struggles in the past year or so have been much more focused on my liberation as an adult, to be myself, to learn who I am, to move freely and to demand respect for myself and others. Which of course means the issues around my gender and sexuality (but mainly my gender) came back with a vengeance so the queerness of Legoshi et all hit very hard. The past year has been an odd meeting of my old self destructive habits meeting new healthier ones.

On the bad side I had al breakdown, multiple depressive episodes, stressed myself to the point of worsening a tic disorder i didn't know i had, neglected my health, fed into my eating disorders as well as my internalized ableism, homophobia and transphobia.

On the good side I attended concerts alone and with friends, decorated my room for the first time, bought sex toys, went on dates, dressed how I wanted to, dyed and shaved my hair without asking for permission (which was extra important since my hair was the one feature I was never allowed to mess with), and worked hard to fight my body issues and eating disorders which I'm happy to say as of right now I looked into the mirror for the first time in 10 years and liked my reflection despite my body dysmorphia. All things my therapist had to give me permission to do because, like Legoshi and all the other canines in the series I was made, through my natural disposition and a dash of abuse, to be obedient to my own detriment. I'm not joking when I say the whole " a canine told to wait will wait until it dies" section is accompanying me to therapy this week and is joining my "therapeutic media metaphors I use to describe my traumas,feelings and behaviors to other people" folder.

So...yeah...people change and this video was and will probably remain a very important part of my life.

Edit: Adding onto this but also like coming back to this video as someone who's currently educating themselves on queerness after years of feeling like "ah yes I understand myself and my own sexuality and gender. This is fascinating anyways. Perhaps I'll read this manga as a cathartic work to analyze but not really dig into because I don't need to do that right now/that's not the purpose it serves right now. It serves the purpose of allowing myself to confront other stuff and like a thing despite it's stigma as weird furry shit because people can't understand the merits of using non human characters to explore human topis including sex without getting all weird"

#beastars #beastars legoshi #beastars haru #tw internalized homophobia #tw internalized ableism #tw internalized transphobia #tw body image #tw ed #tw ed descussion #tw body dysmorphia #tw body dysphoria #Youtube #therapy

[violettduchess]

Asking a request: I seen your previous writing for an MC who's plus size and insecure about herself. Could you write a second one but maybe with Nokto, Luke and Yves? Please, you're first one was absolutely beautiful~

A/N: here you are @neoqueen-sailorvirgo ! Because of the nature of the content, it will be posted after the "Keep Reading"

TW: body dysmorphia, self-loathing

Word Count: 1455

Nokto:

Although the ballroom is crowded, filled with glamorous women dripping in gems and handsome men in hot pursuit, he notices you. You’re standing at the edge of light and shadow, allowing the darkness to spill over you, cover you like a shroud. But still he sees you. 

He sees the way you stand, body pressed against the wall, arms wrapped around the curve of your midsection. Maybe if you press yourself hard enough against the polished wood, you’ll sink into it and disappear, surround yourself with quiet and isolation, away from eyes that notice the way your body stretches your gown, the soft, dark material spilling over your curves like water over stone.

One final drink from his glass and then he is on his way to where you are. You look up from the business of staring at your shoes to find his crimson eyes on you, his hands reaching for yours. His smooth voice in your ear, whispering for you to come with him. 

And you do, following him away from the glittering masses, down a darkened hallway, up richly carpeted steps until you arrive at your own room.

He has a key. Of course he does. And he pulls you inside, closing the door behind him. Again you find your back pressed against wood, eyes wide as you look up into his beautiful face, as you feel his hands slide down your waist, over the generous curve of your hips. What are you doing, you whisper as your heart drums a wild rhythm in your chest. 

His nimble fingers find the hooks on the back of your gown as he lowers his mouth, catching your earlobe between his teeth. Reminding you of how beautiful you are, he murmurs. How much I want you.

You shudder, both at the feeling of the heavy gown opening and at his words. Your eyes close as he slides his hands over the now exposed skin of your back. The gown looked horrible on me, you whisper. Nothing looks good on me.

Nokto pulls and fabric cascades to the ground in a whisper of heavy silk. His hands caress the skin of your hips, one skims over your throat to catch your chin in his fingers. You look beautiful in all your clothing he purrs.  However, he continues as he drinks from your lips, without your clothing….you look positively divine. A goddess who deserves worship. 

Slowly, the silver-haired fox sinks to his knees, his hands reverently gliding down your sides, fully intent on showing you just how devout he can be.

Luke

You’re walking through the small store, admiring all the homemade jellies and jams and chutneys. Luke has been wanting to visit this place ever since he heard they sell a specific kind of wildflower honey he has been wanting to try. You are browsing the colorful jars as he speaks with the store owner, listening with an interest he only has for his favorite things: you and honey.

You are admiring a jar of deep red cherry marmalade when you hear it. The snickering. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice the boys, no older than thirteen, staring at you, their eyes bright with amusement and malice. The one leans over, hand cupped over the other boy's ear as he whispers something. They both burst into wicked laughter. You make a cursory glance over your clothing. Nothing appears to be undone. You haven’t stepped in manure. Your hair is still neatly braided away from your face. What could be so funny? And then another sound. A loud mooing. The moment you turn to look at them, to see the source of the mocking noise, they burst into laughter again, nearly tripping over each other in their giggles and haste to get out of the store.

You set the jar of marmalade down with a shaking hand. Your heart feels like it’s been pierced by something sharp, something barbed. It stumbles in your chest, shaking, grabbing your breath to try and stay afloat. They aren’t wrong. How must it look, you, large and unwieldy, staring at a jar of sweet cherry jelly as if you could swallow it whole. Tears of shame sting your eyes and you turn on heel, pushing open the door and stepping out onto the street. The boys are nowhere to be seen but it doesn’t help. The damage is done.

Luke finds you already inside the carriage, hands over your face, body turned away from him. You have fallen apart in the time he was in the shop, your self-esteem in tatters around you, the jagged edges of your heart having ripped it to shreds when it broke. He slides over to where you are, pulling you into his arms, your name whispered over and over until you finally turn, burying your face in his broad shoulder.

Holding you to him, he kisses your temple, resting his cheek against your hair. He does not know exactly what has happened but he loves and knows you enough to be patient. You’ll explain when you are ready. Until then, his body knows what to do. It knows to keep you close. To kiss you. To rock you gently. To make you feel every bit of love he has for you without saying a word.

This is how he loves you. He takes your broken heart in his hands, unafraid of the jagged edges, the ones that bite and slice and scar. He takes each piece of you and carefully fits them back together. It isn’t beautiful nor is it perfect. But when he is finished, when you can finally lift your head from his shoulder, you feel air flow into your lungs again. You have a heartbeat once more.

Yves

He flits around the kitchen like a hummingbird, hopping from dessert to dessert. He is talking to you, muttering about this or that, making a mental list of all the things he is going to improve on before the sweets are perfect enough for the visiting diplomats. You are seated at a small table in the corner, only half listening to your love as he murmurs notes to himself. 

He’s placed a whole tray of desserts in front of you. Tarts that didn’t come out perfectly, small cakes that may have been the slightest bit lopsided, a chocolate mousse whose consistency wasn’t quite up to snuff. Help yourself, he said before spinning off to the oven where his next attempt needed checking on. And you want to…..but then you look down at your fingers, at their roundness, their ugliness. Long, slender, elegant fingers worthy of jeweled rings will never be yours.  Petite Princess hands, dainty wrists, long, thin arms….none of these are yours. You are made of flesh and curves and a body that demands space, demands room. A body that stretches clothes and strains necklines. Certainly not a body that needs or deserves anything as sweet as Yves’ creations.

He pauses in his whirlwind, pushing his blond hair out of his face. You haven’t even touched any of his desserts. Head cocked, he watches you a moment before heading over, sliding onto the chair next to yours. Is something wrong with the sweets? I know they are dreadfully ugly but they should still taste perfect. 

You shake your head, unable to meet his gaze. You claim you’re not hungry. Your stomach has been sensitive. You can’t eat any of it. In fact, you should just get out of his way and leave. You start to rise but a surprisingly firm hand to your wrist stops you. Fingers touch your chin and you flinch, wondering if he notices how ugly that part of you is too. Your name, a tight sound that slips through his lips, grabs your attention and you meet his gaze.

What you see in the blue depths of his eyes unlocks the tightness of your chest. A softness, wounded by the sadness in your expression. A brightness, admiration and desire for you in equal measure. He leans closer, pressing his lips to yours, the taste sweeter than any of his creations. Reaching up, he cups your face, canting his face to deepen the kiss. In his hands, at his touch, you feel yourself slowly letting go of the knife of self-loathing, your fingers going slack with the heady current of want. You know this does not solve how you feel. It won’t make you immediately love yourself and all that you are. 

But feeling his love and his desire for you, the way he is standing, you locked in his arms, pulled up to your feet and then against his body, it helps. Somehow, it does.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @moonstruck-writing @scorchieart

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri nokto #nokto klein #ikepri luke #luke randolph #ikepri yves #yves kloss #tw body dysphoria #tw self loathing #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #violettwrites

[cringelordofchaos]

TW FOR BODY DYSPHORIA MENTION

Fucking LOVE the headcanon of Jay Walker still having some serpentine traits/infrequent serpentine shifts after his centric episode in season 1. He still needs time to accept it, maintain it. At first he hid it. But he learnt to overcome his insecurities at times, with the help of people like Nya. He barely told anyone about it. He hated it. Couldn't tell Nya about it. Because, I mean, permanently becoming part serpentine? That was different. Awful. As he grew he told his closest ones about it, (firstly Nya, then Cole, then his parents) and with time he told everyone about it. Sometimes he would absolutely love it and embrace that part of him. Other times the insecurities would take him over once again. Sometimes they would hit stronger than ever, with huge waves of body dysphoria, looking at his skin on the mirror and absolutely hating it. His acceptance of his serpentine part wasn't perfect, to say the least. It was a mess. But he still works with it, and he's now more happy with it then ever, proudly being part serpentine.

#Ninjago #tw body dysmorphia #tw body dysphoria #body dysmorphia #body dysphoria #jay #jay walker #lego ninjago #ninjago jay #jay ninjago #ninjago headcanons #self projecting

[doodlelands-dwellers]

Better.

[Please read this with caution! It is angst and may contain content that's harmful to some! Selfharm, blood, (probably poorly portrayed) academic trauma, and (also probably poorly portrayed) body dysphoria.]

Travis hummed along to the song playing from the speaker in his room as he scrolled through the seemingly never-ending amount of assignments he had. He'd done all of them, of course. Turned them in and completed them all to the best of his ability. He's learned by now that's the way it should be. Everything perfect and complete so his parents won't hate him. He opened a new tab to view his digital gradebook. As he expected, all of his classes held A’s. Some lower than others, but whatever. An A is an A. He double checked everything and very quickly realized he did, in fact, not have an A in everything. His expression faltered as he stared at the pixels forming a “D” on his screen. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Didn't his parents plan to call him later this week? Or was that today? Shit. He was done for. He swore he could hear the yelling from the other end of the phone now.

“Oookay.. Don't freak out, Travis! You should be able to contact the teacher about it and fix that assignment! Simple as that!” He told himself this and believed it! Until, he realized the grade was on a test that he knew he couldn't redo. He had flunked on the only test that mattered and now his parents were going to hate him.

“Shit. I'm fucking stupid. God damnit..” Travis pushed himself away from his desk, digging his nails into his arms. Small trails of white appeared on his skin where he scratched, blossoming into red as he sped up the pace. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he continued the motion. He should've paid more attention. He should've done something more to make sure he would've gotten a good grade. Now all he'd get was an earful and probably some scars from his scratching and biting for a few days. Speaking of biting, he raised his arm to his mouth, biting it with incredible force. His teeth only clamped tighter around the flesh of his arm as the pain took place. A cycle of “bite harder, more pain” was all that Travis focused on for a few good minutes. When he finally pulled away, he had created a large bite mark that had blood rising to the surface beneath it. It stung like hell, but that was his end goal. To make sure it hurts. He doesn't even remember when he started doing this. This tradition of biting and clawing himself to shreds everytime he was stressed or upset. He faintly remembers Auto telling him to try his best to stop. Which he had. He had tried his best. Not like it worked. His other hand shook as he rose it, reaching out to grab a pencil out of the cup on his desk. The one he chose was mechanical. It had long run out of lead and the eraser was barely there. Still, it served a purpose to Travis. It served a “wonderful” purpose to him. He brought the pencil back to the arm he had already beaten up, trailing it along the bright red marks he had left behind with his own hands. The tip of the pencil soon dug into his skin. It didn't break the surface, but it dealt more pain than his nails did. He dragged it back and forth, pressing it a bit deeper into his flesh each time. A sharp burst of pain, more so than everything else he had done, snapped eyes back to his arm. Out of all the times he's done this he would've expected it to happen sooner. The small gash he had torn with the pencil started to ooze blood. He pulled the pencil away from the injury, a drop of red covering the end of it. He set it down and stared at the red dripping down his arm for a bit. Funny how this is what he'd wanted to happen, but it was also the action that had tears leaving his eyes. They streamed down his cheeks as he tried to keep from making that stupid sobbing sound. He curled into a ball in his chair, one hand twisting into his hair and pulling as hard as he could while he just sat and cried. He was pathetic. Just like he'd been told by his parents several times. He just hadn't wanted to believe them. Now he realizes they're right. Everything they've ever said was right. Every single harsh name he’s been called for his grades dropping. Every little insult when he was caught doing anything but schoolwork. All of it was right. He truly was pathetic. He was lazy. Now his laziness would land him in trouble. Blood mixed with tears as he wrapped his arms around his chest which didn't even feel right. He’d noticed that recently. He'd noticed that something was missing. He’d catch himself puffing out his chest more often. Trying to fill in for something. Not like he knew what it was, but he was trying to substitute for it. It didn’t matter. It was just another thing wrong with him that he wasn’t able to fix. Just another thing to be bothered by.

#oc lore #oc angst #oc writing #angst fic #angst #travis mitchell #tw selfharm #cw selfharm #tw blood #cw blood #tw trauma #cw trauma #my poor baby 😢 #(he's a grown ass man with life problems) #tw body dysphoria #cw body dysphoria #fanfiction #writing #academic trauma #strict parents

[yun-jin-noona]

"Your days are still young, child. Why do you despair so?"

The mortal sobs, they know few could ever understand what drives them to this place. This place of longing, of hatred.

"This body." They say. "This flesh, it is not my own!"

The voice tuts, soothing; like that of a mother to an infant.

"Flesh can be moulded, child. Of that much, I am certain. I can show you."

They look around, desperately; seeking the voice in the room that promises their hearts desire, the one thing they would need to feel whole.

"Please! Whatever the price, whatever I must sacrifice, I would give it all for this body to be my own! I scorn The Lord! I scorn the creator! In making me in his image, I have been doomed to a life of misery!"

The voice chuckles, and a clawed hand stretches out from the inky darkness of night.

"Come, childe of mine. I will show you that which your creator does not want you to see. I will make you whole."

#vtm #vtm oc #tzimisce #tw body image #tw self injury #tw self mutilation #thinking of making a tzimice ghoul oc...this is how they fell into those wretched hands:))) #tw gender dysphoria #tw body dysphoria

[bapydemonprincess]

Heh, if a butler couldn't handle being naked then...................

.....

#kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #my art #tw body dysmorphia #tw body dysphoria #Hi don't mind me #just thinking about my fave character being extremely uncomfortable #and holding it in because of whats to be expected of a “handsome” “sexy” and “DEVILISH” character #y'know as you do