#tw: dysphoria

[wayward-delver]

Beastkin Lore and Trans-Coded Werewolf compilation cause I am too impatient to wait for the anime.

Also, Laios being Laios called out for it.

[orkbutch]

A little story about dysphoria

[soapskies]

SCARECROWS WITH A DYSPHORIC S/O 🎃💉

READER IS A TRANS MAN. SHORT HEADCANONS. MENTIONS OF NEEDLES AND DRUGS.

— BTAS

His understanding of fear and emotions makes him surprisingly good at dealing with these sorts of things.

Most chill about it

Would help with your testosterone shots if you’re afraid of needles

“It’s alright, dearest. Look away. This will be quick.”

Holds you close and calls you handsome 😫

Seeing you confident in yourself and your identity brings him unimaginable joy

— AUDIO ADVENTURES

Bro’s got stacks of drug money, would spoil you like he were your sugar daddy.

Would pay for anything you needed for your dysphoria, binders, HRT, surgeries, etc.

Offers you drugs to take the edge off (hopefully not his fear-induced ones, but you never know with this guy.)

Would let you top him if your into it 🫣

If anyone is transphobic towards you on purpose he will lose his marbles

— SALECROW

He’s all over you

Sorry, you WILL be cuddled and kissed all over.

He’ll avoid the places on your body that you’re dysphoric about though

He’ll give you the silliest, most lovey-dovey nicknames, like “my prince”.

“Mr. and Mr. Crane, Mr. and Mr. Crane…”

Bro is so in love with you

— ARKHAM ASYLUM

This man… so silly.

Would probably try to take your mind off of it by showing you his completely legal and safe experiments. Yeah. 😃

Why don’t you help your beloved out and hold down his next victim for him, hm?

Wants to be the one who performs your top and bottom surgeries, if you want them, cause he’s freaky like that.

Another clingy bastard

— NOLANVERSE

Reassures you that he doesn’t think you’re any less of a man no matter what others say

Will let you borrow his clothes/tailor them to fit you, if you’re into his style

As with most of the Scarecrow’s, he’s a fairly level-headed therapist, so he can definitely help you sort out any difficult feelings you’re having

He’ll always be there for you when it gets especially bad, bringing you your favorite food and anything else you ask for.

He won’t let anyone disrespect you, you’re not his boy toy you’re HIS MAN, thank you very much.

[russilton]

More trans George warm ups - binder edition

Projecting binder back and rib pain onto him. Lewis would help him adjust bc he’s a good teammate.

*Binders should NEVER be worn during periods of intense strain, such as working out or racing. George is being stupid for doing it anyway, and learning his lesson

References from Kibbitzer.

[chernozemm]

you are sooo loved here, not just for your talents, but by just being you. There are so many here who share and understand your struggles. We will catch you if you ask ❤️

Awh, anon, that's such a sweet thing to say! It means a whole lot to me 💕

I'm very lucky to have my lovely trans community here and I love sharing the thrill and joy of being trans 🤍 that alone helps so much.

To cut a long story short, I realised I'm nb about 10 yrs ago and went through the full gamut of emotions and did so much research into what I could do. Since the options were either not available to me or not what I wanted, I just resigned myself to it. I don't experience day to day dysphoria and my gender fluctuates so much that I've mostly let the topic go. The negatives may outweigh the positives for me.

Now and then I get a random stab of dysphoria, or more like...envy or yearning for something different. And my situation now IS different from when I was 19 so maybe there are options that would suit my specific vision, but I'm not emotionally ready to do all that research again ... And I'm certainly not ready to get my hopes up and then have to talk myself out of it bc I'm scared of what society is gonna think of me....

If there are any German trans and enby fellows here who know what options Germany offers, I'd love to chat you up.

Have a nice evening, lovelies 🌟

[robynshaikucorner]

Ag mothú na mothúcháin sin,

Faoi mo chorp is faoi m'inchinn.

Ceapaim nach bhfuil ann ach tromluí,

Go n-éireoinn sa gcorp ceart,

Nuair a thiocfadh an t-am ceart.

Ach níor tháinig an t-am sin.

Níor dhúisigh mé sa gcorp ceart.

Dhúisigh mé i gcorp lofa,

Le na tréithe firinscneacha seo...

Cuireann sé fonn múisce orm agus

Leanann an tromluí mé.

I mo dhúiseacht, i mo shuimhneas,

Ní thagann deireadh leis.

Ba mhaith liom éalú uaidh.

Ach tá rogha ar bith agam.

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

Understand (platonic!MCR x reader)

Summary: Stepping in as the touring drummer for My Chem is like a dream come true, and it doesn’t take long for your friendship with them to grow. The downside is, this is happening right as you’re hitting a gender crisis - and it all comes to a head after one particularly energetic show... 

Warnings: gender dysphoria, afab reader (but talk of chest binding with as much neutral language as possible), unsafe binding methods 

Word count: 2068

Requested?: No 

A/N: lol I’ve been super dysphoric for like 3 weeks now and this thought is the only one keeping me slightly sane so I thought I’d let you join in with the brain rot xoxo

In hindsight, binding as heavily as possible for the whole day and then going on stage to drum at an unholy pace for an hour and a forty minutes was a terrible idea. But for (y/n), they could see no other way of keeping focused on what they needed to do. Losing focus meant screwing up - and that simply wasn’t an option. 

They had only been drumming for My Chemical Romance for three weeks, after stepping in to replace their usual drummer, who’d managed to break his arm badly enough that he was completely out of action. And so far, things were going brilliantly! Considering that the four guys had known each other for over twenty years (which was almost as long as (y/n) had been alive), they’d worried that they would feel like an outsider, a tagalong that the group pitied just enough to let them stick around but not so much that they actually let them in. But all four had been super sweet and welcoming from the very start, and they’d soon settled in as one of the gang. 

There was only one problem. The ever-present gender crisis. 

As they slipped backstage with the others for the break before the encore, (y/n)’s ribs screamed in protest against the tape and binder combination that held their chest in place, but they tried not to let the pain show on their face. Ray passed them a bottle of water as they stood there, listening to the crowd chanting for ‘one more song’ with the widest possible grins. 

  “It’s always so fucking awesome, hearing people get that loud for us.” Mikey ran a hand through his sweaty hair before moving to adjust the strap of his bass a little, the ‘Mikey Fuckin Way’ lettering on his shirt glittering in the low light. 

(Y/n) desperately hoped that the smile they shot back looked genuine enough that it wouldn’t be a cause for concern. “It’s insane, dude. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

Frank swung an arm over their shoulder as the stage crew signaled that it was almost time for them to return. “Twenty years on, and I still feel the same exact way. So - Vampires and Sleep to finish?” The rest of them nodded, and he shot their newest friend a wink. “Let’s go smash this shit, hey princess?” 

He missed the look of visceral disgust that crossed their face as they headed back to their positions. Obviously it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t known that that particular term of endearment would make them uncomfortable. It wasn’t like they’d plucked up the courage to talk about the minefield of strange thoughts and emotions that was filling their brain. And Frank used pet names with everyone. It just so happened that the one he’d chosen in this instance made them feel sick to their stomach. 

As they launched into Vampires Will Never Hurt You, watching Gerard splay himself across the front of the stage, (y/n) could feel their lungs struggling to take in enough air, and the edges of their vision greying out. Shaking their head to try and clear the fuzziness, they put even more force into the drumming. At least in the shadows at the back of the stage, nobody could see them struggle. And the crowd was paying far more attention to the boys anyway. 

The final vestiges of Sleep echoed through the arena as the crowd erupted into cheers, and (y/n) felt a grin touch their cheeks despite the pain they were in. They joined Mikey and Frank where they were tossing their picks away at the front of the stage, waving each drumstick high before lobbing it out to the baying masses. When there were no more of these offerings to give, they finally retreated, leaving the house lights to come up and give people the hint that yes, the show really was over. 

Twenty minutes later they had made it back to the bus, ready to throw on pyjamas and watch a movie together. It had been their after-show ritual since the third gig, and it was always nice to get the chance to properly relax. As the boys got changed, chatting and pelting sweaty socks at each other, (y/n) ducked into the little bathroom as usual and closed the door, an extra large shirt already in hand. They absolutely did not want to remove their binder, but the logical part of their brain was screaming that they’d done enough damage today already. 

Pulling their shirt over their head was difficult enough - the combination of aching arm muscles from the show and bruising pressure at their sides was a nightmare - but things only got worse when they moved their hands to the lower hem of the binder and pulled. 

And it didn’t budge. 

Shit. 

(Y/n) tried again, biting sharply on their lip as the physiotherapy tape beneath the tight fabric pulled harshly at their sensitive skin. Still, no movement. Twisting awkwardly in the tiny room, they managed to take a look at their back in the mirror. Where the tape they had placed a few days ago was starting to lift at the edges, it had now glued itself to the binder fabric. And there was no way they’d be able to fix the problem alone. Fingers shaking, they stared at the screen of their phone for a moment before making a decision and tapping out a quick text. They could hear the guys talking, their conversation a little fainter now they had moved into the lounge area. 

(Y/n): Hey, could use your help. 

Gee: You okay?

(Y/n): yeah, just screwed something up that I can’t fix by myself 

Gee: Ok, coming. Still in the bathroom? 

(Y/n): yep 

Moments later, there was a soft knock at the door, and (Y/n) opened it just far enough that Gerard could slip inside with them. 

  “So what’s-” He stopped, registering the redness around their eyes and the skin-coloured garment clinging to their chest. “Oh. Oh honey, why didn’t you tell us?” 

The look of concerned guilt in his eyes made them well up even more, and they sniffled. “Thought I could work things out on my own, then tell you. But I fucked up.” 

“Tell me what happened.” 

“I’ve had tape on for the last four or five days, but today...” they managed an empty snort of laughter, “today the dysphoria was just unbearable. So I threw this on over it - it’s the wrong size as well, but I haven’t had enough spare money for a new one. And now everything’s welded together, and I can’t get it off.” Everything suddenly became too much to bear, and they buried their face in their hands. 

Gerard pulled them in for a hug, resting his chin on top of their head and rocking them softly until the sobs faded into the occasional hiccup.  “Let’s start unpicking this stupid tape, huh?”

 And he got to work, gently working his fingers between the fabric and the adhesive and pulling gradually until, section by section, the two materials became separate again. He worked his way methodically around the hem until he was finished, then moved to stand between the short drummer and the mirror. 

“Hey, (y/n). I’ve got you, okay? I’m gonna get this thing off you, and you won’t have to look, I promise. Just hang in there a bit longer.” 

They nodded, squeezing their eyes shut as he worked the binder slowly upwards until it was finally off. They took a deep breath for the first time in far too long, ribs groaning with delight as they had the space to expand as needed. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed breathing properly.” 

Gerard snorted, then tutted anxiously. “Oh kid, your skin looks so raw under here. I think it’s time to take the tape off for a while.” 

“Do I have to?” 

“I think it’s for the best, yeah. Let me do all the work, and we’ll get this sorted.” 

(Y/n) nodded their consent, and felt him start to carefully peel the tape away, pulling slowly so as not to traumatise their abused skin any further. No words were said as the final pieces came away, leaving (y/n) with their upper half completely exposed. That thought made them shudder once again - they trusted Gerard completely, but having something that made them so insecure on display in front of someone else was awful. They felt movement behind them, and then a hand reached around to press a piece of fabric against their front. The clean shirt they’d chosen. 

“Thank you.” 

“Hey, this is what friends are for. I’m just gonna put some lotion on your back - the skin here’s a bit fucked. Don’t worry, I won’t use Mikey’s gross flowery shit. You can have some of mine.” As he worked the soothing moisturiser into their skin, he carried on talking. “So, what do you want us to change?” 

“Huh?” 

“About the way we talk about you. You know, are you okay with your name? What about pronouns? I wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

This time, the tears that threatened to trail down (y/n)’s face were happy ones. “Um... I’m okay with my name, for now. But ‘she’ is just...” they pulled a face, and he nodded giving them room to turn and face him once their shirt was on. 

“So, ‘he’? Or would ‘they’ be better?” 

“They, I think. At least for now.” 

“And what about nicknames? Because, y’know, certain people in this band are allergic to using people’s government names more than once a week.” 

That got a proper laugh out of them, and Gerard was internally punching the air. He hated seeing people he cared about upset, and knowing that he’d been able to bring back that wonderful smile of theirs was music to his ears. 

(Y/n) thought for a moment. “The more masculine, the better.” 

“Gotcha.” 

A series of knocks at the door interrupted them, and Ray called through. “You guys are okay in there, right? Nobody’s dead or anything?” 

“We’re coming out now, relax man.” 

The two of them stepped back into the cramped changing/storage area of the bus to see the rest of the band waiting for them, all looking concerned. Frank took one look at (y/n)’s puffy eyes and tucked them under his arm, frowning. 

“You okay dude?” 

“Yeah, just...” They trailed off, took a deep breath, and just went for it. “Brain’s been a bit of a mess recently, having problems with the whole gender thing. It’s a lot of shit. And I fucked up by not binding safely this morning, and couldn’t get out of it myself.” 

They had barely finished the sentence when they were practically smothered by the rest of the band, swept into the most comforting group hug possible. As Gerard smiled, as if to say ‘told you we’d understand’, the others talked over each other in their desperate attempts to provide reassurance. 

“Oh man I’m so sorry we didn’t ask earlier.” 

“If we fuck up, you tell us, okay? Or punch us, whatever, just make sure we know.” 

“Dealing with all this shit on your own must’ve sucked, I’m sorry we didn’t see you were struggling.” 

A little overwhelmed by the unconditional support, (y/n) pulled away to wipe their eyes before managing a smile. “Well if my binder didn’t break my ribs then that hug sure as hell did. Don’t get all soppy on me now. I wanna pick our movie before we all fall asleep.” 

The answer was unanimous. “Deal.” 

The five of them piled onto the couch in the lounge area, (y/n) squeezing in between Mikey and Ray. “Let’s do Jaws.” 

Frank rolled his eyes. “For the fourth time?” 

They responded by throwing a handful of popcorn in his face, and Gerard nudged him in the ribs. “There’s your answer. And quit hogging the blanket.” 

As they all settled in, heads nodding, Ray dug his phone out of his pocket and snapped a quick photo - five pairs of fluffy-socked feet sticking out from under the blankets, with the opening sequence of the film just in the back of the shot. He thought for a second, deciding on the right caption, and posted it. 

‘Movie night with my favourite dudes 🍿' 

Perfect. 

[orkbutch]

Ah unfortunate that transfeminity scares you

After many, many years drawing all kinds of people and bodies (including many transfeminine bodies) I identified a trend. I found that when I spend too much time drawing the anatomy that is central to my dysphoria - the genitalia that I want and wish desperately that I had been born with, and cannot afford to get - it intensifies my dysphoria. Because it means I'm thinking about that thing a lot - I'm looking at it, I'm referencing it, and I'm attempting to convincingly render its form and mechanisms and use in sex. These are all things I'm intensely envious of, of course. I like drawing cock, you know. Its acutally one of my favourite things to draw, and if you ever look at cock I've drawn on my twitter, I render it very lovingly and I know exactly how to draw it, because I've thought about it a lot. I've done it A LOT. Because I wish I had one! Its how I want to have sex, so the erotica I've made for my whole life has always had cock in it, becauses that was how I related to it. But this erotica was So Many iterations of experiences I grieve never getting to have. I dissociate away from my body basically constantly trying to avoid the reality of this incongruence. Thinking about it too much drives me to despair, the lowest and most dangerous places I've ever been. And shifting that into depicting the kind of sex I actually can have, the body expeirence I actually get to experience, is important. It's healthy. It's less fun too, because I wish I had a cock. But it is healthy for me. This isn't about you at all, and my art is always going to come back to me, and my experiences of bodies and sex. That doesn't mean I'm not going to depict transfeminine people, because I love transfeminine people and have always done that in my art. But if I know I'm going to be drawing a particular character a lot, I'm going to do it responsibly. I hope as a fellow trans person you can understand this.

[ambop]

Cw: self harm and dysphoria

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Was in a silly goofy mood, and art makes me feel better sooo like vent art lol

Dw im actually safe and didnt do anything to myself just kinda really wanted to but thats over now im fine lol :D bipolar a lil hehe

[ghostussy]

Promises

Trans Copia x Transmasc teen reader, platonic

Copia finds the reader struggling to use trans tape.

. . .

Quick drabble I started last night after trying trans tape for the first time lol

(It didn't work but that's okay, I'll give it a few days and decide what else I'd like to do, if anything.)

TW: Mentions of crying, being trans, dysphoria, self-hate, etc.

. . .

"Y/n?"

You don't answer.

"Y/n, please answer the door," Copia calls, concerned. "The ghouls say there is lots of, eh, distress coming from in there."

You ignore him, hoping he'll go away. He doesn't. Instead, you hear the jingle of a master key.

Shit.

"Child, I am coming in there if you do not answer."

"Copia!" You call back, panicked. You stand from your place on the floor, hurriedly throwing a blanket over the mess you've made, and throwing a shirt on. "O-one sec, please!"

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine!" You squeak, picking up a few loose strands of adhesive. "Just tidying up!"

When you think you've got everything cleaned up, you answer the door.

"Y/n... have you been crying?"

You wipe your face, looking away. "No."

He sighs. "Can I come in?"

You stand in the doorway, blocking his way in. "No."

"Please tell me what is wrong. I know you are upset."

"I'm not upset. I'm fine."

"Y/n-"

"I said I'm fine!" You shout, then gasp and cover your mouth in shock. "Papa, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

His eyes soften, and he looks at you with pity. "Let me in."

Tears form in your eyes again, and you step off to the side. "Okay." You shut the door behind him, and he walks over to your bed.

"Oh, why is this blanket on the floor?"

"No-!" You're too late, he's already picked up the blanket to reveal a mess of used trans tape, the paper backings strewn all over the floor, loose adhesive where you'd cut the corners from the tape and a pair of scissors. He sets the blanket on the bed before speaking.

"Oh," he says softly, not looking at you. His eyes are transfixed on the mess.

"Copia, I-"

"Shh, I know."

"It's not-" You stop speaking when he looks up, raising his eyebrows at you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you can't look at him.

"Oh, kiddo. Come here," he coos, moving to pull you into his embrace. You pull back, subconsciously moving your arms to hide your chest. He smiles sadly. "It's alright, I don't mind. Come here." He pulls you in somewhat forcefully, but gently enough that if you wanted to pull away, you could. You don't.

You bury your face in his chest, tears staining the fabric of his shirt. Those loose tears turn into tired sobs, and he rubs your back in an attempt to help ground you. "Shh, it's alright. Your papa is here. It's okay."

It takes you a few minutes to gather yourself, and when you do he pulls away to look you in the eyes. "Was this your first time binding?" You nod, and he gives you a sympathetic look. "Okay. Can I see?"

You shake your head. "I'm not wearing any. It didn't work."

"How bad are the abrasions?"

You shrug.

"Will you let me see?"

He starts picking up pieces of paper and tape. You scramble to help him, feeling guilty about the mess. When you're done, he stands to face you. "Alright, here's what's going to happen; you are not wearing any tape or a bra tonight. You need to let that heal. I have some ointment that can help... and to make sure you don't wallow in your dysphoria, you're sleeping in my bed tonight. End of discussion." He uses a hand to tilt your head up. "When that heals, I will help you learn to apply tape properly. Do not ever treat your skin as harshly as you have tonight, okay?"

Slowly, you lift up your shirt. You're still wearing the pasties, so it's not like he can see much, but you feel entirely too exposed and naked. You hold the shirt to limit what he sees, so that he only has visuals on where you'd torn your skin.

"Fuck, kid. How many times did you rip the tape off?" He eyes the angry, red abrasions that cover much of the skin across your breasts. "Alright, you're done. I- shit. I'm sorry y/n, that looks awful. No wonder you were in tears. I would have been too." You pull down your shirt.

You look at him, confused. "Copia, you don't know how to apply tape, do you?"

He smiles kindly at you. "Your papa was not born this way, you know."

You frown. "What do you mean?"

He gestures towards the door. "Grab some loose pj's and come on."

. . .

"Okie dokie, this is for those nasty abrasions." He hands you a small bottle of some sort of medicated cream. "My bathroom is right in there, you may use it to change and apply as much as that as you need."

"Thank you," you mumble, barely audible. You disappear into the bathroom, where you take your time. Tears brim in your eyes when you see just how much damage you've done to your skin, but you quickly wipe them away.

When you come back into Copia's bedroom, he's already got the lights dimmed. He smiles warmly when he sees you. "Ah, there we are. Feeling a little better, I hope?" You shrug. "Ah, well. That's alright. Come on, let's get you into bed." He gestures at the bed, which is adorned with blankets and stuffed animals. You tiredly climb in, and he follows suit.

You curl up next to him, and he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you to rest in the crook of his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, voice gentle.

You shrug again. "I don't like this, papa." Your voice is small, as if you can't believe the words coming out of your mouth. "I don't want to be trans. I just want to be..." your voice cracks as the tears start up again, and you throw your hands up in defeat. "Why couldn't I have been born right?"

"It's alright," he runs his hand up your arm. "I do not know why you were born this way, but we can take actions to make you feel better. You do not have to do anything you do not want to. I can help you apply the tape next time, or we can get you a binder, or even surgery in the future."

"I just... I don't want to be trans." You whisper.

"I know." He looks sad, yet understanding. "You know... If you ever, eh, have any questions or need to talk, I am here. But please know these awful feelings you have, they will pass. There will come a time that you will feel alright. You may not wish to be trans now, but these are the cards you were delt. This is a piece of you. One day you will learn to be okay." He pauses. "I do... speak from experience," he says slowly.

You look at him, curious. "You do?"

"Si," he says, lifting his shirt for you to see. You spot two familiar crescent shaped scars, located just beneath his pecs. "I do."

You smile as he pulls down his shirt. "So things will get better? Promise?"

He pulls you closer, pressing a small kiss onto the top of your head. "Promise."

He wraps a blanket around the two of you, reaching for the TV remote. "Now, I was thinking we could watch a movie before bed..."

. . .

Copia steals a glance at you a few movies later. You've long since fallen asleep, face pressed into his side with your arms curled around him.

He sighs, thankful he'd found you. The idea of you crying yourself to sleep, feeling dysphoric and upset saddens him.

Gently, he brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face. You mumble something incoherent before sleepily pressing yourself closer to him.

"Sorry," he says quietly, "I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."

You mumble something else; though he still doesn't understand, your voice is more loud and clear.

He drags his hand gently across your back, a soft and fatherly action. "Shh, rest now. I will be here when you wake up."

"Promise?" He looks down to see you staring at him, eyes open yet half-lidded and clouded with a sleepy haze.

"Promise," he whispers, and his confirmation is all you need to be sent back into a blissful sleep.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

Transphobia is wild because it's always the people who are the MOST SURE about their gender identity who are like "UGH, I can't imagine wanting to be a different gender" and like yeah. Yeah! Yeah, Sharlene! Yeah, exactly, you get it! I'm a cis woman too, and I can't imagine anything more horrifying than waking up one day as a man. I'd rather wake up missing both my legs! A man? A MAN? Holy shit, I could give myself a panic attack just thinking about it. If I looked down and realized I was in the body of a man, I'd boil off my own skin, slough it off like a snake, and crawl around with all my meat and skeleton exposed, howling in terrible anguish as people ran out of the room screaming "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THERE'S A SKELETON MONSTER IN THERE," and then I'd slap a little pink bow on my bloody, exposed skull bones and they'd be like "--I GUESS THE SKELETON IS A GIRL, THOUGH??? FUCK?? HARD TO TELL GENDER WITH BLEEDING, SCREAMING SKELETONS SO I'M JUST GOING BY THE BOW" and I wouldn't say anything because I'd just be screaming and screaming and screaming, but at least nobody would call me a man, and I wouldn't have to see a man's body when I looked at myself, just a horrifying undulating column of of bone and bleeding gristle and that’s better, oh my god, that’s still better

Like yeah Sharlene!! you’ve almost got it!! you’re so close!!

[maceofpentacles]

i’m sorry but that anon genuinely ruined my day 10 minutes after waking up. why the fuck would you ask someone that? i know i had every chance to delete it and ignore it but i need y’all to see some of the stupid shit that gets sent to me on anonymous.

i’ve made my identity as a trans man Very Clear on this website because 9 times out of 10 i feel safe disclosing that and being open about it. but it’s the 1 time, the 10% of time, that people really fucking irritate me and make me ashamed of my entire existence.

you have NO right to ask questions like that. no one has any right to say “oh you’re actually born a girl right? i can tell because of your voice” cis people have no fucking idea how harmful that is to say to someone. i try not to be super dysphoric on here but jesus fucking christ bro. my voice is one of the few things that triggers my dysphoria so bad that i’ll physically shut down and not speak. so thanks for that whoever that anon is.

i hope you have a lovely fucking day. because i know i won’t.

[fandomkingsblog]

Dysphoria

[starleska]

Could you maybe do a wally x trans male reader who's insecure about his female body parts and wally comforts him? If you don't have time or don't want to, that's perfectly okay! <3

aww, it's been lovely, the amount of trans positive headcanon requests i've been receiving - especially on International Trans Day of Visibility!! 💖 i'm afraid as a trans person myself, i'm not too comfortable filling out this sort of prompt for dysphoric reasons. my sincerest apologies!! however, Clown has said that gender is an interesting concept when it comes to the Welcome Home puppets and Muppet-like characters. so rest assured, Wally loves You exactly the way you are, and will always comfort you when you're having dysphoria 🥰