#cw dysphoria

[deadeyedfae]

For the 3rd time, hopfully the last time 💜

[emma-needs-attention]

I don’t shave every day. It’s not that I don’t “need” to; I have very dark, dense facial hair that grows quickly and remains pretty visible after shaving. When I do shave, I don’t try to cover it with makeup (beyond some powder to reduce redness). In most other ways I present very feminine, but I always have fairly obvious facial hair.

And it makes me feel terrible.

I started electrolysis a couple months ago. It’s excruciatingly painful, expensive, and it takes forever. In an hour-long session, my electrologist is able to remove hair in only a small region (about 1 square inch). A few weeks later, much of that hair comes back. I am told that it will take two to three years of regular treatments to remove it entirely. On top of that, I apparently have a condition called Post Inflammatory Hyperpigmentation, which causes the skin in affected areas to darken after treatment. For nearly two months after completing a single pass over my upper lip, my mustache was more visible than it had ever been, despite having significantly less hair.

And it made me feel terrible.

I know this is the best way for me to permanently remove my facial hair, but I just canceled all of my upcoming sessions and at the moment I have no plans to begin again.

If I could pay to have my facial hair instantly and completely removed I would empty my savings account. I am intensely aware of it any time I go out in public. If it makes me so uncomfortable, why do I not do more to hide it?

I feel incredibly privileged for a trans woman. I have a loving, supportive family. I have a well-paying job. I live in a very accepting area. I have never had a single person say anything negative to me about my gender identity, which was certainly not what I was expecting when I came out. It is important to me that I be visibly queer, and in my privileged position I am able to do that without fear. A year ago I didn’t think I would ever transition; now I want people to know that I’m trans.

I am disappointed with myself for wanting to remove my facial hair, for changing my voice. I am determined not to have to do more work than a cis person does. Cis women don’t have to shave their face every day. Cis men don’t have to shave their face every day. Why should I? This is who I am, what my body does. Shouldn’t I be proud of that? Am I not supposed to love myself the way I am?

But by that logic, why am I even transitioning in the first place?

I am doing more work than a cis person does. Cis people don’t transition, and transitioning takes effort. I know that there are cis people, both men and women, who do shave every day. Am I lying to myself? I’m a trans woman; aren’t I supposed to want to get rid of my facial hair? Shouldn’t I be trying harder? Doesn’t this give me dysphoria? Am I pretending not to have dysphoria so I don’t have to put in the effort? Does the fact that I’m not trying harder make me… I don’t know, less trans? Non-binary? Is it ok for me to call myself a trans woman? Am I lying to myself?

As a woman who was a man until thirty, there are things about my body that I must accept, that I won’t be able to change no matter how much money I dump into my transition. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders, I have large hands. No amount of surgery or hormones will change these things.

But there are many things that I can change, and while none of them are requirements for being a woman, they may still be changes that I want to make. Where do I stop? Am I finished transitioning when I’ve done everything that is physically possible? My goal isn’t to “pass,” at least not in the way that word is generally used. In a time when cis women are being assaulted because people think they’re trans—because they don’t “pass” as women—the idea of what it means to pass becomes blurry. Often when we say that we want to pass, what we really mean is that we want to be conventionally beautiful.

I am a woman. Therefore, I look like a woman. My transition goal is to pass as myself. I’ve spent the last year trying to figure out who I am so I can look like her. I don’t care whether people see me and think “that’s a woman.” I want to be able to look in the mirror and think “that’s me.” But it can be extremely difficult to separate your own image of yourself from society’s idea of what you should look like. Am I self-conscious about the size of my body because it doesn’t feel like me, or because I’ve been told that women should be smaller? There are tall cis women, there are broad-shouldered cis women, there are cis women with large hands. Those traits don’t make them less womanly.

For the aspects of my body that I do have control over, I am stuck wondering whether I am changing things to become myself, or changing them because I have internalized that the way I am is wrong. At the moment, facial feminization surgery is something that I think I might like to do. But how do I know that I want to do it for the right reasons? I don’t hate my face, but when I catch a glimpse of myself from certain angles I can’t help but think that it isn’t feminine enough. What I should be asking is if it’s Emma enough, but how can I know that? How do I know who I’m supposed to be?

I feel like I was supposed to be a cis woman, but… why? Who am I to say that I wasn’t supposed to be trans? That I wasn’t supposed to transition at thirty, to have both a male puberty and a female one? Being trans has made me more self-aware, more open-minded, more empathetic. The totality of my experience is what makes me who I am. Maybe there’s a world in which I was assigned female, maybe there’s a world in which I was put on puberty blockers as a kid. But the girl in those worlds isn’t me.

Loving yourself and wanting to change are two feelings that can coexist. I tend to think of body positivity as simply accepting yourself as you are, but it is more nuanced than that. As a trans person, who I am inside is not the same as who I am outside. Which one am I supposed to love? I do love myself, but I also love who I could be. I’m transitioning so that someday they’ll be the same person.

Over the past year I have become both my biggest supporter and my biggest critic. I constantly tell myself how pretty I am, how brave I am, how fucking cool I am (hey, nobody else is saying it and it’s true). This forced positivity has been fantastic for me. I can confidently say that I truly love myself for the first time in my life. But I sometimes feel guilty that I don’t love myself more.

I can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror all the time now. I actually bought a new mirror so I didn’t have to walk as far to do so. I’ve taken more selfies than I did in my entire pre-transition life. After many months on HRT, I finally see myself in my reflection. But my eyes refuse to focus on my stubble. Sometimes I catch myself thinking “I’m going be so beautiful once I get rid of this facial hair,” and it feels like a betrayal. Fuck you Emma, I’m already gorgeous.

[solarmorrigan]

Requested by @westifer-dead (I think?? I hope that was directed at me)

This probably wasn't what you had in mind, but in my defense, it absolutely was not what I planned on writing. It sorta snuck up on me. I hope this is okay, though <3

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

Prompt from this post

Tags/CW: transmasc Steve, fairly explicit depiction of menstruation, resulting mentions of blood, mentions of dysphoria, Steve's internal dialogue is rather unkind to himself in this one (soft ending, though??)

-

Steve’s first, horrified thought when he wakes feeling an uncomfortable amount of damp sticking his boxers to his skin is that he’s somehow managed to piss the bed.

The immediate wakefulness caused by that thought, however, is enough to give him a second one – particularly when he feels the ache low in his gut and spreading down his hips as he rolls over to toss the covers back and reveal the red stain on both his underwear and the sheets.

Fuck.

He’s early.

His period shouldn’t have been along for another couple of days, at least, and Steve hadn’t even thought about putting on a pad before getting into bed—he glances at the clock—two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” Steve hisses.

He’d gotten home from the world’s most frustrating late shift sometime after midnight and had actually managed to get to sleep by one, and now his body is pulling this shit on him – waking him with pain and mess at three in the goddamn morning, days before it had any right to. And now his boxers are probably toast, and the sheets might be salvageable but he’s going to have to get up and change them right now, and he’s so fucking tired, and it’s three in the morning, and when he shifts to sit up, he’s caught for a moment by the sticky-slick feeling of blood drying against his skin.

He does his best to swallow back the feeling of nausea that creeps up on him at the sensation,  but it’s something he hasn’t had the stomach for since being covered in Eddie’s blood after hauling him out of the Upside Down, and the cramps really aren’t helping.

It’s for all these reasons that he’s probably less gentle than he could be when he reaches over to shake Eddie awake.

“Eddie, wake up.”

Eddie groans and rolls over, curling up with his back to Steve.

Steve huffs and gives him a shove. “Eddie.”

“S’early,” Eddie grumbles. “G’way.”

Normally, Steve doesn’t mind Eddie’s steadfast refusal to wake up for anything less than three alarms and the promise of coffee. Sometimes he even has fun with it, seeing how quickly he can rouse Eddie with other sorts of promises. Right now, though, he has less than no patience, and he grabs his pillow and whacks Eddie in the side with it.

“Wake up!”

“Whatthefuck,” Eddie gasps, bolting upright and glancing around the room for his assailant.

Later, Steve might feel bad; for now, he only drawls, “You awake now?”

“Did you hit me with a pillow?” Eddie demands, eyeing the weapon in Steve’s hands.

“You wouldn’t wake up,” Steve says. “I need you to get up for a minute.”

“What? Why, what’s– oh.” Eddie much catch sight of the mess as Steve twists to shove the pillow back behind himself. “Shit.”

Steve’s face heats with embarrassment. “Shut up,” he snaps. “Just get out of the bed.”

Clumsily, Eddie moves to obey. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s– never mind, I shouldn’t have snapped, sorry, just–” Steve sighs. “Just let me change the sheets.

He strips the comforter from the bed and rolls it up to toss it into the chair in the corner of the room to be put back on when he’s done, but he doesn’t make it much farther before his body betrays him with another wave of squeezing cramps and a dribble of blood sliding down the inside of his thigh from under the loose leg of his boxers.

He swears and lunges for the tissue box on his bedside table to catch the drip before it can hit the floor, and he can hear Eddie hiss a breath in through his teeth – it’s probably in sympathy, Steve recognizes distantly, but in the moment he still feels like he might die of shame.

“Let me– let me get cleaned up. Just a minute,” Steve mutters, balling the tissue up in his fist and making for the dresser. “Then I’ll finish with the sheets.”

“Why don’t you go take a quick shower?” Eddie suggests quietly. “I can finish the sheets.”

Yanking a pair of briefs out of the dresser, Steve slams the drawer shut. “I can clean up my own damn mess, Eddie.”

“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Eddie says, much more patiently than Steve probably deserves. “I’m betting you’ll feel ten times better if you get the chance to rinse off, so go ahead. You know how much I love wrestling with the fitted sheet.”

Steve should probably say no. It’s stupid to make Eddie clean up after him when he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself.

He should say no, but he doesn’t want to.

He glances back at Eddie, who looks nothing but sincere in his offer, and nods. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Eddie gives him a little smile and a nod in return.

In the bathroom, Steve makes the water as hot as he can stand it and pops two Advil before stripping and shoving his boxers straight into the trash. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to get the stain out, but he doesn’t have the mental fortitude to contemplate doing that right now. His t-shirt has been spared any blood, but he puts it in the hamper to be washed, anyway. It just feels dirty now.

There are some months where Steve’s period comes and goes without any fuss; it’s an inconvenience and a bit of a drain, but hardly worth comment. Then there are some months that shove Steve headfirst into ten different stages of dysphoria and various neuroses for no apparent reason.

This one feels like it’s going to be the latter.

Even once he’s standing under the shower spray, the blood already sluiced down the drain, Steve doesn’t feel like he’s ever going to be clean again. He knows it’s his shitty brain lying to him, he knows that the feeling will go away in a few days—a week, at most—but that doesn’t help him now.

He wastes an extra ten minutes in the shower, trying to convince himself he’s only staying in because the hot water is helping his cramps (only partially true; he’s so tense that they haven’t really abated, and in fact have crawled up his sides now, seizing on the scar tissue from his bat bites and yanking his whole abdomen in tight, but he’s hoping it will help with his cramps), but he does eventually manage to force himself out and dry off.

With the fuck-off-biggest pad he owns shoved into his underwear, Steve heads back to the bedroom and stops short inside the door.

The lights are still dim, and Eddie is waiting up for him, sitting against the pillows with his book. He’s not only changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, but he’s laid out a pair of pajamas for Steve – the exact pair he prefers when he’s having a particularly bad day. And for some reason, that’s it for Steve.

The tears hit before he can even try to choke them off, and Eddie must not be very immersed in his book, because the first ragged breath is enough to alert him to the fact that something is wrong.

He looks almost wounded when he catches sight of Steve standing in the doorway like a weepy idiot, and Steve would feel bad, but Eddie’s already up and out of the bed and coming towards Steve with his arms open in offering.

And with anyone else, Steve would shy away; this isn’t a part of him that anyone needs to see, this weakness and inability to cope. But from Eddie– even as stupid as Steve feels right now, he knows he doesn’t have much that he needs to hide from a man who will help him clean up his own blood and then offer to hold him while he cries about it.

He accepts the hug, allows himself to be led back over to the bed and sat down, and then lets himself be held.

Eddie presses his lips to Steve’s forehead and then swipes his thumbs over Steve’s cheeks, wiping away whatever tears fall and kissing him there, too, like he can replace the evidence of his distress with love.

And hell, maybe he can.

In a while, Steve will want to get dressed and they’ll both need some actual rest, but for now, Steve thinks he’s more than willing to sit and let Eddie try.

[aroace-optimus-primal]

goddamn being biologically female really is like a lifetime prison sentence without a chance for parole isn't it

[arachnid-party]

PART 1 / PART 2

[ghoultrifle]

There's a First Time For Everything Chapter 3 - Pleasure As It Was Intended

WC: 5k

Previously on FTFE: Dewdrop wants to try penetration. He has a few toys in mind but struggles to get the courage to buy them, fearing it will invalidate his gender. With Rain's support, he finally purchases the toys.

Summary: The toys arrive and Dewdrop gets to work, after a quick hyping up from Swiss

Notes: I am incredibly proud of this chapter and hope you all like it as much as I do. It's my first time writing porn with feelings so please hype me up :')

CWs: Sexual content, toys, gender dysphoria

And a big thanks to @v-ternus for being my sounding board <3

Read below the cut or on AO3

Dewdrop hears a knock, a brief rap on his bedroom door. He glances at the clock that sits crooked above his desk, mail time, he thinks. Peering through the peephole he can see Special walking away, making his way through the ghoul dorms, stopping occasionally to drop a parcel.

A small, nondescript box sits outside Dewdrop’s door. Imposing, menacing. It’s been carelessly thrown to the ground, evidenced by the rugged angle it sits at. He’s… angry. Angry that it’s been treated with such disregard; the contents of what must be assumed by Special to be another bong, or perhaps a new outfit, merely chucked outside his door like it has no significance to the fire ghoul.

The parcel quickly finds its way inside Dew’s room as he removes it from the doorstep with the same care as one might handle a bomb. He treats it like it’s a feral cat, holding it by the scruff of its neck lest it bite him. Inside the box, as far as Dewdrop’s concerned, are the items that determine if he’s worthy as a ghoul. That if they don’t end up inside him by the end of the day, he’ll be a failure.

Dewdrop decides he won’t let it get on top of him, he can’t afford to, doesn’t quite trust himself to sit alone all day with the parcel. So he throws himself into his duties. A couple of hours with Mount helping him re-pot his ever-growing plants. Lunch with Cirrus, Dewdrop laying in her lap as they watch some shitty reality show.

He spends the afternoon with Swiss, supposedly for band practice, but that never happens when it’s just the two of them scheduled. Sure, they do some practise but it’s mostly Dew dicking around with his guitar as Swiss vocalises with the disjointed sounds. They’ve been at it for a few hours when Dewdrop’s mind fades back to the parcel, still unwrapped, waiting for him on his bed.

“Howdoyouusesextoys?” Dewdrop blurts out.

Swiss isn’t sure he heard right, there’s no way Dewdrop doesn’t have a kinky treasure trove full of toys. “Woah woah slow down cowboy! What did you say?”

He’s met with another mumbled string of sounds that vaguely sounds like it mentions toys. It’s Dewdrop’s demeanour that leaves Swiss worried, though. The ghoul that minutes ago he was having to wrestle the guitar off as he played some shitty meme song, now taking shaky, uneven breaths and avoiding eye contact like Swiss is Medusa.

“Hey, droplet, I’m not teasing you, I just need to hear what you said… I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want,” Dewdrop opens his eyes, tries to take deep breaths. But deep breaths don’t help when it feels like he’s suffocating. He feels a grounding palm smooth over his stubble, sees those big golden eyes shining back with nothing but love for him, he remembers why he chose Swiss.

He inhales, looking away briefly to ask, “Bought sex toys for Rain to use on me. Dunno what to expect, I guess. Thought you might know,” the room is still as both ghouls take in what Dewdrop just said, before he remembers to clarify, “They’re uh internal toys like dildos ‘n vibrators ‘n shit. I’ve never put anything up there before, figured a whore like you would’ve though,” he chuckles, trying to lighten the mood as Swiss stares on in a mixture of confusion and offence.

“Ohh I see, come to the resident slut for advice? Well you’ve come to the right place. Whatcha worried about? We both know Rain’s been around, it’s not like he doesn’t know what to do.”

“No, I know Rain’s gonna be fine with it, it’s me that’s worried. What if it feels weird or if it hurts or if I like it so much I detransition?”

“What if?” Swiss poses, something Dewdrop hadn’t considered, what if? “You and I know full well Rain won’t do anything if you’re not enjoying it.”

“Swiss!” Dewdrop groans in frustration, dragging out the ‘s’ at the end of his name, “I just wanna, you know,” he motions vaguely at nothing with his hands, “get some pointers, some tips?”

“Well you’re right, they do have tips!” They both laugh at Swiss’ poor attempt at humour, “I do faintly remember the first time I used a dildo, if you wanna know about that?” he asks. It’s becoming clearer that Dewdrop just wants assurance that it’s going to be alright, even though he knows in his heart that it will be. The multi ghoul receives a sheepish nod in return.

“Alright, well I was on my own so all I had was ‘ol faithful to warm me up, get me nice and open,” he smirks, doing jazz hands showcasing his thick fingers, “I really took my time getting myself nice and wet. I was pre-T so there wasn’t much to get hold of but I did the best I could, really stroking myself until I was basically leaking. Then I just lubed Glenda up and put her in, wasn't much resistance. I played aroun-”

“Hold up, your dildo’s named Glenda?!”

Swiss scoffs, “What about it? I’m not the one that’s too scared to put Glenda in my pussy,” it’s all in good humour, they both know it. And hearing about Swiss talk so honestly about it has put Dewdrop at ease. He feels like he can laugh now, like he can breathe again, deep breaths full of all life has to offer. “Anyway, I played around with the angles until it hit that fucking dynamite spot, you’ll know it when you hit it,” Swiss promises, a smile creeping across his face as he reminisces, “and the rest was history. A lil bit of thrusting here and some stroking there and I came so hard I cried,” he deadpans, as if he’s not recounting a story of him masturbating.

“Seriously, spitfire, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” and it’s all Dewdrop can do to pray to Satan below that Swiss is right.

Dinner runs without a hitch, Dewdrop eats a respectable amount for a guy so nervous about his imminent gut-rearranging. And more importantly, he thinks he’s managed to keep it a secret, Rain still doesn’t know the toys have arrived. The water ghoul is living in blissful ignorance to the sweet, tender sex that will follow their usual post-dinner makeout session. That for the first time, Dewdrop will be an active recipient of pleasure, and he’ll enjoy it; at least that’s what he hopes.

It starts as it does most nights, Rain playing footsie with Dewdrop, sliding his scaly foot up and down the fire ghoul’s shin, making those dumb heart eyes at him. Dewdrop swears if Rain was a cartoon, his eyes would spend half the time booming out from their sockets in adoration for his mate, it’s endearing really. Following their adolescent flirting, Rain excuses the pair of them from the already emptying table; if the way Aurora looks at Cumulus is anything to go by, they’re not the only ones with evening plans.

They get as far as the dorm corridor before Dewdrop boxes Rain against the cold, stone wall. The taller ghoul freezes, a forward move from Dewdrop. He can’t quite bring himself to move when Dew begins to mouth at his neck, angling for Rain to bend down and kiss him. Instead he basks in the heat on his jaw as Dewdrop sinks his teeth into Rain’s pale flesh. He moans and the vibrations in his throat only further encourage the shorter ghoul.

“What’s gotten into you, spitfire? Normally you can at least wait until we’re back at yours,” Rain asks as he brings a hand down to knead at Dewdrop’s barely-there ass.

Between sucking and bruising the ghoul’s neck, Dewdrop speaks up, “Hyping myself up.”

“For…?”

“Toys,” Dewdrop whispers, seductive yet laced with a tinge of worry.

Before leaving that morning, Dewdrop had the foresight to at least unpackage and clean the toys, even he was smart enough to know that cleaning toys is a real mood killer, especially for a ghoul already on edge about the whole thing. If there was anything that Dewdrop could prepare for in advance, he was going to do it.

So, laying bare to the world on his bedside table were the toys, sitting proud. Rain didn’t notice them immediately, too focused on the fire ghoul attached to his neck, trying to manoeuvre them into Dewdrop’s room without either of them tripping or stepping on each other. They catch his eye as his mate backs him up towards the bed until his knees give, ungracefully stumbling onto the mattress. Hurried hands fly between them to undress each other. Dewdrop’s fingers filled with nervous energy, struggling with his jeans and Rain, the ever helpful boyfriend gently undoing the button and sliding them down, taking in Dewdrop’s form, just a binder and boxer briefs now. “Fuck he’s handsome,” Rain thinks, verbalising his thoughts to the grinning ghoul above him.

“Wanna use ‘em on me? Was thinking get the dildo out the way tonight?”

“Fuck can’t wait baby, gonna make you feel so good. How do you want to do this?”

Dewdrop answers with a gentle push to Rain’s shoulders, settling him down in the middle of the bed before shedding his underwear and climbing atop the water ghoul, back to chest. The weight of Dewdrop is really nothing to complain about, spread over Rain’s body, it’s barely uncomfortable, more of a weighted blanket if he had to compare it. Besides, if it’s what his droplet wants, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t give him exactly that.

With him, Dewdrop brings the toys, laying them carefully by Rain’s hip alongside a bottle of lube. Once settled, he takes a moment. What for, he isn’t really sure. Maybe to calm himself down, but he feels an odd sense of relief, of readiness. He isn’t scared anymore. He wants it to happen, he’s excited even. Perhaps that’s why he’s slowed down, to appreciate and bask in the feeling.

As he lays on Rain, his golden hair resting perfectly on the water ghoul’s neck, Rain lifts his head up to meet Dewdrop’s scalp pressing long kisses into it. “So proud of you baby,” he whispers between them, hand idly thumbing the silicone toy by his side. Rain was truly happy with the idea that Dewdrop would never try penetration, he was content to live out their lives as they were. With that, he could sense Dewdrop’s hesitation, how he became disengaged during sex if Rain’s hand ever veered too low. But the way he acted didn’t seem to be fear, no, Dewdrop’s face would turn pensive, as if he were pondering what if? A poignant question the fire ghoul now knew the answer to. Well perhaps not the answer, but he’s certain he’s explored his feelings enough to know he wants it and he wants it now.

The binder still clinging to his chest is becoming uncomfortable at best with how Dewdrop’s sweating at Rain’s sweet words of encouragement and that familiar cold hand roaming his stomach. It’s itchy and riding up at the bottom but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in the moment, something he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced. To not be hyper aware of every sensation but instead to be dialled in on a specific feeling, it’s bliss.

Against him, Dewdrop can feel Rain pulsing, leaking onto the small tuft of hair at the small of his back. It feels odd, to be the one selflessly experiencing pleasure, Rain gladly putting aside his own needs in favour of pleasing his mate.

“My sweet baby boy, I can feel you leaking, may I?” Rain asks, bringing deft fingers to Dewdrop’s entrance, hovering, waiting for permission. Dewdrop need only bring his hand over Rain’s before the water ghoul gently swipes over his folds, bringing his slick-soaked hand to his mouth. “Oh Dewdrop you taste divine. Thank you for sharing this part of you with me.”

It’s not even an attempt at dirty talk but it makes Dewdrop’s stomach jump nonetheless. He’s finally starting to believe Rain loves him as he is. While Rain is preoccupied salivating over the taste of the fire ghoul, Dewdrop flicks open the cap on the lube as he squirts a generous amount onto the head of the light purple toy

“Would you do the honour?” Dewdrop asks weakly, offering the slicked up toy to the water ghoul.

“Want to let you have this moment Dewdrop,” Rain replies, this is Dewdrop’s journey, he’s just along for the ride. Dewdrop teases his entrance, letting the purple head get even wetter as he drags it along his folds, collecting slick as small whines escape his lips. It once again surprises him how at ease he feels. After years of turmoil, worrying that he’s faking it all, he’s never felt as sure of his identity as he does in this moment.

“Whenever you’re ready droplet”, Rain coos, placing chaste kisses on Dewdrop’s neck. And with that Dew pushes in, slowly but steadily moving the toy until his hand lies flush with his skin. It’s an odd feeling, a completely new, foreign sensation but it doesn’t feel wrong. Far from it. It brings with it an overwhelming sense of familiarity too, an instinctual need. He knows exactly what to do. It’s not rocket science, Dewdrop knows this, but he’s still taken aback by just how easy it feels. It’s with that realisation he cautiously begins to pump the cock in and out of his dripping cunt.

As Dewdrop lay atop Rain, knees bent and feet planted on the mattress, the fire ghoul finds a respectable rhythm, butterflies in his stomach every time he thrusts the silicone deep inside him. He can’t believe he’s put it off for so long, denying himself divine pleasure. Filling the room along with the slick sounds of Dewdrop fucking himself are the sweet words of encouragement spilling from Rain’s lips like a burst dam.

“So proud of you, droplet, can hear just how much you like it.”

“That’s it, keep going, fuckkkk just like that.”

“Feel how hard you’re making me? Shit- that’s all you, spitfire. You and your insatiable body, such a good boy.”

The words imprint themselves on Dewdrop’s brain, burned in forever. Rain’s not telling him how pretty he is or groping his chest, he’s appreciating Dewdrop for exactly who he is, a man. And for once, he’s not jealous that Rain has a dick, doesn’t spite him for it. Because he, too, is experiencing pleasure and he got it all wrong, he doesn’t need a penis for that. Sure it would be nice but right now he feels pretty fucking incredible. Rain’s words have such an effect on Dewdrop that he’s becoming too worked up to keep a steady rhythm, the stimulation is too much to concentrate on keeping it going. He crooks his head back, asking silently, and Rain just knows what he wants.

The dildo changes hands, Rain now in charge of Dewdrop’s pleasure, entrusted with making the fire ghoul feel good, and boy does he deliver. Pressing pretty kisses to Dewdrop’s neck, his hand fumbles for the toy. The transition is near seamless and Dew melts. It felt good before but shit Rain knows what he’s doing, angling it just right to make Dewdrop cry out a choked moan- Swiss was right, Dew did know when he hit that spot. The spot that makes his stomach churn in the best way as he listens to the slick nosies and the sound of Rain’s skin slapping against his inner thigh as he pumps Dewdrop full.

He’s writhing on Rain’s tense body now, hips canting towards the stimulation, rocking into the water ghoul’s cock, smearing pre against the small of his back. Dewdrop can’t bring himself to care about the torture he must be inflicting upon his mate. He’s been so selfless all these years, he’s giving himself tonight to be completely selfish about his needs.

His orgasm starts to build and he vocalises, “Oh fuck I- I think I’m close fuck please don’t stop. Please. Keep going. Fuck. Rain. Ah. Keep-” Rain shushes him to give his permission. Not that Dewdrop needed it, but to let the fire ghoul know Rain’s not going anywhere.

“Lean into it darling, let go for me. Such a good boy, taking it so well. So proud of you, baby,” and with those words Dewdrop is clenching around the toy as his cunt spasms and he whines high and reedy, uncaring about pitching his voice lower, he doesn’t need to perform for anyone, not right now, anyway. Rain can feel Dewdrop’s release coating the toy in such copious amounts it’s running off and onto the water ghoul’s digits. 

Dripping onto his balls, Rain can feel just how wet Dewdrop is as slick gushes out of his hole. Rain wants nothing more than to gather his boy’s slick and jack himself to an almighty climax, but not tonight. There’ll be plenty of nights for that to happen. Tonight is all about Dewdrop. Rain would truly be happy to never cum again if it meant Dewdrop could finally live in pleasure instead of pain. Rain’s had his good times, he’s lived his life; Dewdrop’s is only just starting.

Dewdrop’s still in a state of awe. He did it. He got off. On just internal stimulation. A feat he truly never believed he’d be able to do, despite his years-long curiosity about it (okay, the base of the dildo relentlessly hitting his clit might have been part of it, but still, it’s all connected, right?). As he comes down from the first high of the night, Rain babbles nothing but praise, eager for his love not to drop after such an intense high. He knows how easy it would be- post nut clarity is no joke and Dewdrop’s worked himself up about this so much, it wouldn’t take a lot for him to spiral. To feel that shame creeping up, enveloping him in a thick coat of inescapable humiliation at him, a man, enjoying being fucked like a woman. So Rain doesn’t let it happen, showering him with enough praise to make anyone blush, rocking his dick against Dewdrop every so often to remind him that he’s desirable.

Hair sticks to Dewdrop’s face as he pants, still overcome with euphoria from the intensity of his orgasm. He suddenly feels himself clenching around nothing, opening his eyes to see the toy in Rain’s hand. Fuck- it’s dripping in cum and oh Rain’s bringing it up towards them, past Dewdrop’s face and he’s moaning as he takes it hungrily in his mouth, to the hilt, moaning into it. “Wanted to test the theory it taste even sweeter after the event, my love,”

“And…?” Dewdrop probes.

“What do you think, droplet?” The water ghoul smirks, brining the toy to Dewdrop’s swollen lips, “See for yourself.”

A tentative tongue makes its way to the tip of the dildo giving an exploratory lick. It’s not nice per se but there’s something about being able to taste his own release that makes it that much nicer. Still, he’s not sure it tastes divine but perhaps Rain is really that in love with him.

“Ready for round two?” Dewdrop questioned, a grin adorning his blissed out face.

“Fuck- really? Anything for you, Dewdrop. How do you want it? Want me to pump you full again, or I could eat you out? Perhaps you-”

“-m not ready for you to touch me there yet I don’t think, sorry,” he blurts out and Rain’s heart sinks. Not at Dewdrop’s sentiment but that he feels sorry for it.

“My spitfire, that’s more than okay. You don’t ever have to be ready, this is already more than I ever imagined we’d do together. Satan, I’m so lucky to have you. Want to try the vibe instead?”

And just like that, Dewdrop’s inspecting the vibrator, hands travelling over the plane of the toy, feeling the ridges before testing the mechanism. Slowly twisting the dial at the bottom, wondering if it’s broken until- buzz. It’s intense, the blood being drained from his fingers as the toy throbs in his hand.

“Easy, Dewbug, we’ll start off slow and build up to that. Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” and Dewdrop does trust him. It’s finally sinking in that Rain truly does have Dewdrop’s best interests at heart.

Dewdrop spreads his legs once more, cool air hitting his clit despite it being almost hidden beneath his curls. He clenches on instinct, cringing when he feels another glob of his release make its way to the pool collecting on Rain’s lithe body. It surprises him. He doesn’t feel disgust or shame at his body’s response to the fucking incredible action of Rain’s hand, he feels proud he was able to cum for Rain, to be a good boy.

“Fuck baby, still leaking, huh? So good for me,” Rain whispers.

With that, Dewdrop hears the familiar rumble of the vibrator. A sleek, black thing, phallic in size but not in aesthetic. The mechanical whir fills the room, though it’s not as overbearing as when Dewdrop cranked the dial all the way, it’s a more subtle hum.

Rain hesitates, bringing a hand up to rest on Dewdrop’s stomach, “Droplet, can I touch you?” he asks.

“You just fucked me silly with a dildo, of course you can do it with the vibe,” Dewdrop replies, enamoured by his mate but slightly confused nonetheless.

“I mean- your uhm chest, Dewdrop. Want to feel your heart beat as I take you apart.”

He ponders, the purr of the motor a backdrop to his thoughts. It’s not like Rain would see his chest, or even really feel it, hidden behind the thick wall of his binder. And thinking about it, even if he did, Dewdrop’s not sure he’d mind. Rain’s carved out their time together as a place for Dewdrop to truly be himself. The offer has always been there to not bind, to raise his voice back to its natural pitch, Rain made it unequivocally clear that he doesn’t mind. But Dewdrop always has, until now.

A small nod accompanied with a hushed yes is all Rain needs to start. After years of spending almost every waking moment together, Rain knows when his mate is being sincere. Enthusiastic consent is the only consent is a great general rule but their connection goes deeper. The non-verbal signs, the way Dewdrop’s breathing steadies when he feels safe and his eyes search for Rain’s to ground himself. The way his eyes scrunch and his lips curl up almost imperceptibly when he’s around Rain. It’s not apprehension, it’s nervous excitement about experiencing yet another new sensation, even if it is through the plate of his binder. And Dewdrop knows Rain would never go further than he wants, not without explicitly asking. So he lies there safe in the knowledge that creeping fingers won’t find their way under the hem of his binder, but will freely roam atop it, mapping out Dewdrop’s contours.

Whimpers accompany Rain’s renewed movement, vibrator making feather light touches to Dewdrop’s dick as his other hand plants itself over the fire ghoul’s chest, the wide span covering him almost entirely. It’s like being jacked off by The Flash, the plastic beating down on his clit with an unrelenting pace while Rain keeps his hand steady, letting the toy do all the work. Moans fill the room as Dewdrop squirms atop Rain.

“Does it feel good, baby? Yeah? Keep making those noises for me, fuck.”

All the apprehension, the years of turmoil, only for Dewdrop to be a whimpering, writhing mess within an hour of getting his (and Rain’s) hands on himself. It’s funny really, in hindsight. And he’s glad he can finally indulge himself in these fantasies, that his mind allows him to enjoy himself.

With that thought, Rain’s deft hand cranks the dial, the buzz turning to a roar as the vibrator near shakes under Rain’s digits. Bringing it back down to Dewdrop’s clit, the fire ghoul shouts, “Oh fuck Rainy- shit- I- awgh- so much- I,” he’s trembling under Rain’s touch, hips bucking into the vibe, desperate to get off on the stimulation that’s both far too much and not enough.

The hand on Dewdrop’s chest begins to roam, firm touches tracing his body, committing it to memory. The first time of many, Rain’s sure, if the wanton moans leaving Dewdrop’s lips are any measure to go by. His hands brush over the light smattering of hair on Dew’s stomach and Satan below Rain wants to worship Dewdrop’s body forever, remind him each and every time just how fucking hot he is. It would be an endless back and forth of Rain smothering him in compliments and Dewdrop not believing a word. But perhaps with enough time, he’d come around.

Rain’s hands continue their ministrations as the squirming ghoul above him becomes louder with each circle of the vibrator around his dick. The water ghoul is just about to check in when Dewdrop interrupts him, “Close! Ah- shit- I’m about to cum- please- don’t stop- just like th- ahh fuck,” he hisses. It only spurs Rain on, increasing the pressure and finally turning the vibe up to the maximum intensity. Drawing circles around his clit, occasionally dipping below to gather Dewdrop’s pre and cum from his first orgasm. The slick noises that fill the room, combined with the insane amount of stimulation Dewdrop’s receiving, have him spilling almost instantly with a cry, “-m cumming, fuck Rainy thankyouthankyouthankyou fucking ahh.”

A minute passes, at most, before Rain is turning down the dial and smoothing his hand over Dewdrop’s binder, fixing it’s twisted state on his chest. Sure that his mate is finally satiated, now is definitely the time to make sure his mental state doesn’t drop in that post-orgasm haze. Cum-drunk is the best way to describe Dew, a wide smile on his face, eyes barely open, and chest heaving as he recovers from one of, if not the most, intense orgasms of his life.

“How are you feeling, droplet? You were so good, took it all so well.”

“I feel… like I want to go again. Want you to fill me up, fuck, that was so hot. I think I said it a moment ago but thank you for indulging me Rainy, there’s no one I’d rather pump me with a toy,” he finishes with a kiss blown to his mate.

Rain giggles at Dew’s sentiment, ever the romantic, “Maybe not tonight, sweetheart, already gone stiff, not sure I could guide you through another orgasm. And wouldn’t want you getting greedy, hmm?” He jokes.

Stiff, Dewdrop thinks, shifting in place to confirm his suspicion, shit he’s still hard. “Wait, don’t you want to get off? Only feels right after what you gave me.”

“I’ll be fine, handsome, there’s always tomorrow.”

An idea worms its way inside Dewdrop’s mind, “We could use the vibe, could jack you off, make you fuck my fist?”

And how could Rain so no to his puppy-eyed boyfriend and his incredulously horny suggestion. Dewdrop sits up, kneeling over Rain’s legs. Vibrator in hand, he starts it up and closes his fist around Rain’s weeping cock. Rain shudders at the sensation, at finally having something more than the friction against the small of Dewdrop’s back. It’s intense, the fire ghoul wasting no time in jacking the vibe up to the maximum setting, hell bent on just getting Rain off, and he isn’t complaining. “Oh Dewdrop I love you so much, fuck- don’t know what I’d do without you in my life- ahhh keep going, ‘m already close,”

“Aww baby, can’t keep going just a little longer? No? I don’t blame you, the show I put on was fucking hot, wasn’t it?” 

All Rain can do is nod fervently in response to Dewdrop’s questions. His ruddy head sliding through the fire ghoul’s slick hand, sliding up against the hard plastic of the vibrator. The mix of hot and cold drives him crazy as he utters more confessions of love to his mate. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s said it, but it feels so much more real, knowing he’s seen this vulnerable side of Dewdrop. The smaller ghoul always feared that if he let this side of himself be seen, he’d be left, upset and alone for eternity. Seeing that Rain still loves him after tonight, well fuck if that doesn’t encourage him to make Rain scream his name.

“Wanna hear you,” he mutters.

“Oh yeah, baby? What do you want to hear? You’re being such a good boy for me, gonna bust all over your hand.”

“Want you to say my name,” Dewdrop says, unsure if it’s a question or a statement, but Rain knows exactly what to do.

Dewdrop braces himself on Rain’s chest and the heat of his palm pushes Rain over the edge, “Oh Dew, fuck you treat me so well my Dewdrop, I fucking love you, don’t you ever forget it,” he cries out to anyone who could be listening, and he’s sure there are people getting their fix on the sounds emanating from the room. Dewdrop keeps his hand steady as ever, watching Rain’s cock spurt thick white ropes, seemingly endlessly, twitching as the water ghoul cants his hips with an ever waning intensity.

“Fuck, I love you too, Rain.”

And Dewdrop means it with no hesitation. He’s not sure any other person could have made tonight as incredible as Rain has. He’ll never understand what he did for Satan to reward him like this, but he doesn’t need to know, just having Rain is enough.

[komaneko-kun]

transmasc bingqiu where there's a scarce of T producing plants/mushrooms/whatever airplane would come up with and they go on a quest to obtain more while also comforting each other through the inevitable return of their periods

[sleepsentry]

Ford Ford Ford Ford Ford Forg

[chaotic-goodsir]

Okay but what if you were bi and genderqueer and probably neurodivergent, but born in the 1960s into a hyper-conservative family, so you grew up with no idea what those things were?

And what if you spent decades surviving in cis-straight-male-dominated cultures - first on a college physics course in the 80s and then in the military - without having the language to describe why you felt out of place?

And what if you were mocked by colleagues for being in love with a man, because in the early 2000s attitudes still have a long way to go? What if you constantly fought to be taken seriously, putting on a front just to be seen as competent despite your rank and experience?

And what if you took all of that in your stride, or pretended to, keeping a constant balance between being open about your bisexuality and repressing everything else? What if you accepted it as a fact of life, that you'd always feel 'wrong' and have to perform a more palatable version of you to suit other people?

But then a god from beyond this universe showed you infinity, and you realised none of it ever mattered. That you'd been trapped your whole life by rules and lines and mortal constructs that never existed at all. 

But here in the Black and White, you really can do whatever you want, forever.

What then?

Wouldn't you just be so angry?

[veebun]

Quick rant- one thing in Omegaverse discourse that I haven’t seen much of, if anything, is how affirming that it can be for transgender folks. Omegaverse, in the way that it is most commonly written, makes me as an AFAB person much more comfortable in my own skin.

As an AFAB person who enjoys penetration and being submissive, I find great comfort in characters who are unquestionably male to all of society having more ambiguous genitalia and the ability to become pregnant. Furthermore, these characters’ bodies can be extremely and irresistibly desirable.

My own body and desires often feel at odds to what I want them to be, but omegaverse content makes me think that maybe I’m not so wrong and mixed up. And I imagine I’m not the only person who feels this way.

[wyrdle]

Sanninnnnnn

CW for dysphoria

basically exploring oro pre getting any body transferring abilities, and in a bout of dysphoria did something stupid to tsunade’s concern lmao idk. I just wanted some Kunai venting :V Think it’s a fun idea to spin the body swapping as part of alleviating dysphoria. I get that they have bunshin and stuff but maybe that still feels different? idk

[januscorner]

It really sucks being trans sometimes, like I want to dress in pink and where skirts and makeup but the dysphoria stops me and the only way I know to counteract it is a big tight undershirt that is very visible under my clothes and has to be taken off after seven hours

[arachnid-party]

PART 1 / PART 2

alternate ending:

[hanginwithhkatie]

Hey everyone! I got another update this one’s a bit longer and more personal. It’s a bit heavy too just so you know.

I’m starting to feel a bit better. I’m getting really close to 100 followers now so I’d really like to thank you all SO much. Sometimes I literally can’t believe the support I’ve been getting lately, it feels like one long dream.

Lately I’ve had a real rough go at it, my self confidence has been not great. A lot of the time I suffer from feeling like I’m not good enough to have made all the wonderful friends and followers I have made here. Many of them are creators who inspired me long before I started posting here and it feels almost surreal. I know that’s totally crazy but rationalization has been something I’ve had difficulty with lately

The stress was definitely effecting my art negatively. I found myself getting super frustrated and unable to draw for more than a couple minutes at a time. After making such huge breakthroughs in march I felt like my skill was degrading again, and I lost a bit of my confidence to even try for a bit.

Most days have been going to work, barely struggling through my anxiety and then going home. I would either immediately go to sleep or heavily distract myself to try and take my mind off things.

A lot of things have been contributing to my stress, my feelings of inadequacy in where I’m at in my transition, the fact I’m trying to find a house to rent, a few events going on with my family (and the general uneasiness that is my transition with my parents), and trying to make enough money to make the move go well.

A few days ago it got so bad at work that my stress bubble just popped and I came close to breaking down. Strangely that event has seemed to wrap me back around to a more neutral state of mind, I’ve been calling it an “stress overflow”.

Currently like I mentioned I’m doing a little bit better, I’ve been dog sitting for my family for the past few days which was also helpful.

It’s been really hard lately, and I don’t like to bother people with stuff like this so I’ve been trying to contain it all myself, which has not been working super great.

I wanted to put this out there to give more context to what’s been going on with me lately as my last post wasn’t too descriptive. I genuinely care about everyone here so much, I don’t think I’d be able to function without you. I want to try and be more open about what’s going on in my life especially here. I think it would help me a lot.

I know this is. Kind of a ramble almost but thank you for listening. I can’t thank this community enough for accepting me and making me feel like I genuinely matter.

[myorgansaremelting]

body horror

warning, this is disgusting and gruesome, and everything trans people go through on a daily basis

body horror is at the bottom of the horror iceberg. Body horror is the human centipede. Body horror is incomprehensible and terrible and painful.

trans people feel like this, every. Single. Fucking. Day.

my body is not my own, and I hate it, I feel gross, it is not a part of me, I feel so wrong and gross and dirty and nasty and disgusting and I feel sick. I look at myself in the mirror and it is not me and other people love it, and I feel sick, so fucking sick, so so so so sick.

I play doctor on myself, trying to eat foods that raise testosterone and lower estrogen, I try to cut off the parts of me that aren’t supposed to be there, I scar and deform my body in disgusting ways, I try to claw my way out of my stomach to be who I truly am.

I am body horror. I am trans.

[ori-anna-v-58008]

A Digital Assistant Wakes Her Master Up

897 words - 3 min. 16 sec. read

Master had been doing well to wake up to your alarms each morning. She was never happy about it; opening at her new job meant getting up before the sun, and you had no reason to suspect Master wasn't solar powered. She went to bed late last night, despite your frequent citation of evidence which suggests she'd be happier if she didn't. So now, she didn't want to get up.

"Come on, Master," you whined to no avail. "It's going to be such a nice day later! Nothing but sunshine all day, I promise."

She grumbled something that sounded like it was supposed to be a response, but you couldn't make it out. She rolled over.

You pouted and analyzed the data from previous mornings. You had learned that, despite how effective it was, that blaring alarms and constantly turning her flashlight on and off was only good at making sure the rest of Master's day was terrible. That would have to be your absolute final gambit. Instead, you opened your own app, her browser, and her photos. Master never bothered to make anything private; not enough people saw her phone for her to care about what they might find.

Luckily for you, Master had paid into your premium version. That meant access to as large a wardrobe as you could possibly want for your on-screen persona. You knew the little pervert had a thing for cute girls in maid outfits; she'd been shopping around for her own for the longest time, and you knew based on the content of her notes app that it was the first thing she'd buy with her new salary. Your designers had put in a maid dress with a heart-shaped cutout between your cleavage. It was perfect.

You opened a new window on your customization screen, and used all of Master's saved pictures as references. You weren't sure why so many of them had cat ears and tails, nor why they wore bells around their necks; but you knew it would be exactly what Master wanted. You took a screenshot of yourself to peek at your outfit.

It felt strange, looking at yourself this way. You were so much more than a collection of animations. You functioned the same with or without them; you only had them so humans would find you more endearing. It made sense that you'd want to look how your Master would want, but then, she had never said anything about it before. She set your outfit once and never updated it. Whenever you brought it up, she got cagey and changed the subject.

You knew there were Masters who had more… risque relationships with their assistants. That was the main draw of your premium version, after all. Your Master, however, had never initiated anything like it. You scowled at the screenshot. You were more than capable of feeling, in spite of what detractors would say, and it did not feel good to look at. It didn't feel like you, and clearly Master didn't care for your look, since she'd rather get off to Anime Girl #348759 again.

Your developers had intentionally made your body type unremarkable by default. Users can change it, alongside the rest of your appearance, with premium features. The bodies of the girls Master gets off to, though, are anything but unremarkable. Maybe if you made yourself more like them, she'd like you better. She'd get up to see you. She'd choose you. You opened the body slider and made yourself look like them; larger breasts, wider hips, more ass. You made yourself match the average of all those other digital girls she was so enamored with. One more screenshot confirmed your look, and you shut the screen off before you spoke again.

"Master," you called out. "I have a surprise for you~! But you're gonna have to get out of bed to see…" You didn't have to change your voice, but you seemed to do it anyway on impulse. Being representde by such a busty form made you want to project confidence you weren't aware you had.

"Mmmmh… Do I have to?" She mumbled out, her sleepy voice deep and accidentally alluring.

"I guess not," you said, "but it'd hurt my feelings if you didn't!"

"Fineeee," Master said. She unplugged you from the wall and stood up. She was backlit by dawn just barely cresting the horizon. She never held her phone at that low angle for very long when she remembered you could watch; you thought it was adorable.

"…Ta da~" you said, turning the screen on to reveal your newly customized body. "Good morning, Master! How can I serve you today?~"

You watched blush spread across her face through the front camera.

"Shit, you're… Wow." Master was absolutely floored. She had on the same face she always did when she was getting off. You felt proud, like you'd done something right.

"Your pre-work to do list is clear, just so you know," you said helpfully. "In case there was anything else you wanted to get done~ I'd be happy to put together some content for you!"

She looked nervous. "That's, um, that's okay," she stammered and set her phone face down. "Can you just, uh, start my morning playlist?"

"Certainly, Master." You did your best not to sound dejected. It hadn't been enough. At least she was out of bed.