lucillethebat

Latest Posts by lucillethebat

The way Blitz looked at Stolas while they danced struck me so hard like he’s so obsessed with sex and turning things into crude comments yet he had nothing but care and concern in his look while they danced on that balcony ?????? End me

Why does being a fan of Eddie Munson have to be some sort of social crime? I cant wear a Hellfire shirt in public without being crazy or odd. No buying shit for bands and older versions of D&D that I didn’t really think about liking till the show reintroduced me to them cause it makes me a poser and a wanna be of someone.

No cosplays or quoting, no sharing my opinion on how I feel the season should have went, no mentioning his name in conversation, and definitely no being inspired by his character to embrace myself and interests.

It is oh so frustrating to know that not only in person in the small town I live in but online people STILL get backlash and hate for enjoying his character. Always grouped with the fans who made some pretty poor choices and that makes us all disgusting or what “ruined” a fandom like not every piece of media has that side. It has been since 2021 and it still doesn’t tire these people out!

Its a character who is shown as an outcast and OFCOURSE it will bring out the “weird” people to be themselves! Its not a crime and definitely doesn’t deserve your constant bullying. No one is hurting you and even then you deal with that one individual not treat everyone in the community the same way. Not knock down their works(art, writing, music, or otherwise) because you disagree! To not welcome people into the rest of the community or allow them to enjoy other pop culture attached is vile.

Interests are how people grow to become their own person! Especially teenagers and young adults whose mental development doesn’t stop till they are 25!!!! NEVER and I mean never treat people like shit because of something they like even as specific as a character! Its not your business or responsibility to make them feel the need to make you comfortable!

If you feel differently that is fine but I wont welcome it on my page especially when I already face the hardship of homophobia and transphobia here already!

END OF STORY!

I found a lady statue with an umbrella at Goodwill and want to paint her to look like Lady Dimitrescu to sell on Etsy, but I’ve watched a single playthrough of Resident Evil three years ago and it was Corpse playing so I really don’t remember any of the game itself. Can someone let me know if she has an umbrella please? I see there’s some umbrella symbol/symbolism surrounding her character and I can paint it to look like that, but I’m kind of lost. Any help would be appreciated !

As above, so below (my socks feel bad rolled up and unrolled)

Please, spread this for those who might need it right now

U.S. suicide hotline: call or text 988 (available 24 hours)

U.S. trans lifeline: (877) 565-8860 (when you call, you’ll speak to a trans/nonbinary peer operator. full anonymity and confidentiality)

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) National Helpline: 1-800-662-HELP (4357) – provides 24/7 confidential support and referrals for individuals and families facing mental health and substance use disorders, including panic attacks and anxiety.

LGBT National Help Center: (888) 843-4564

Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386, text START to 678-678, or chat online.

Take care of yourself and each other. Please stay safe ♡

I’m not even sorry, this is my fave season 🎃

For my Minecraft world :)

a list of 100+ buildings to put in your fantasy town

academy

adventurer's guild

alchemist

apiary

apothecary

aquarium

armory

art gallery

bakery

bank

barber

barracks

bathhouse

blacksmith

boathouse

book store

bookbinder

botanical garden

brothel

butcher

carpenter

cartographer

casino

castle

cobbler

coffee shop

council chamber

court house

crypt for the noble family

dentist

distillery

docks

dovecot

dyer

embassy

farmer's market

fighting pit

fishmonger

fortune teller

gallows

gatehouse

general store

graveyard

greenhouses

guard post

guildhall

gymnasium

haberdashery

haunted house

hedge maze

herbalist

hospice

hospital

house for sale

inn

jail

jeweller

kindergarten

leatherworker

library

locksmith

mail courier

manor house

market

mayor's house

monastery

morgue

museum

music shop

observatory

orchard

orphanage

outhouse

paper maker

pawnshop

pet shop

potion shop

potter

printmaker

quest board

residence

restricted zone

sawmill

school

scribe

sewer entrance

sheriff's office

shrine

silversmith

spa

speakeasy

spice merchant

sports stadium

stables

street market

tailor

tannery

tavern

tax collector

tea house

temple

textile shop

theatre

thieves guild

thrift store

tinker's workshop

town crier post

town square

townhall

toy store

trinket shop

warehouse

watchtower

water mill

weaver

well

windmill

wishing well

wizard tower

what's up ! non-exhaustive list of stories featuring weird plants :

The Day of the Triffids, John Wyndham

The Night of the Triffids, Simon Clark

In the Tall Grass, Stephen King and Joe Hill

The Boats of the 'Glen Carrig', William Hope Hodgson

The Man Whom the Trees Loved, Algernon Blackwood

The Red Tree, Caitlín R. Kiernan

Annihilation, Jeff VanderMeer

The Willows, Algernon Blackwood

The Nature of Balance, Tim Lebbon

'Bloom', John Langan

The Ruins, Scott Smith

The Wise Friend, Ramsey Campbell

'The Green Man of Freetown', The Envious Nothing : A Collection of Literary Ruins, Curtis M. Lawson

The Beauty, Aliya Whiteley

The Ash-Tree, M.R. James

Canavan's Backyard, J.P. Brennan

Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Jack Finney

The Hollow Places, T. Kingfisher

'Reaching for Ruins', Crow Shine, Alan Baxter

'Vortex of Horror', Gaylord Sabatini

Hothouse, Brian W. Aldiss

Vaster than Empires and More Slow, Ursula K. Le Guin

Odd Attachment, Ian M. Banks

Deathworld #1, Harry Harrison

The Bridge, John Skipp and Craig Spector

'The Garden of Paris', Eric Williams

Apartment Building E, Malachi King

The Seed from the Sepulchre, Clark Ashton Smith

Rappaccini's Daughter, Nathaniel Hawthorne

The Nursery, Lewis Mallory

The Other Side of the Mountain, Michel Bernanos

The Vegetarian, Han Kang

Sisyphean, Dempow Torishima

The Root Witch, Debra Castaneda

Semiosis, Sue Burke

The Wolf in Winter, Charlie Parker #12, John Connolly

Perennials, Bryce Gibson

Relic, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

Gwen, in Green, Hugh Zachary

The Voice in the Night, William Hope Hodgson

Ordinary Horror, David Searcy

The Family Tree, Sheri S. Tepper

The Book of Koli, Rampart Trilogy #1, M.R. Carey

Seeders, A.J. Colucci

Concrete Jungle, Brett McBean

The Plant, Stephen King

Anthologies/collections :

The Roots of Evil: Weird Stories of Supernatural Plants, edited by Michel Parry

Chlorophobia: An Eco-Horror Anthology, edited by A.R. Ward

Roots of Evil: Beyond the Secret Life of Plants, edited by Carlos Cassaba

The Green Man: Tales from the Mythic Forest, edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling

Sylvan Dread: Tales of Pastoral Darkness, Richard Gavin

Evil Roots: Killer Tales of the Botanical Gothic, edited by Daisy Butcher

Weird Woods: Tales From the Haunted Forests of Britain, edited by John Miller

'But fungi aren't plants' :

The Fungus, Harry Adam Knight

Growing Things and Other Stories, Paul Tremblay

The Girl with All the Gifts, M.R. Carey

Mexican Gothic, Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Fruiting Bodies, and Other Fungi, Brian Lumley

'The Black Mould', The Age of Decayed Futurity, Mark Samuels

What Moves the Dead, T. Kingfisher

The House Without a Summer, DeAnna Knippling

Mungwort, James Noll

Fungi, edited by Orrin Grey and Silvia Moreno-Garcia

Trouble with Lichen, John Wyndham

Notes :

all links lead to the goodreads page of the book, mostly because i like to look at book cover art ;

list features authors/books that i love (T. Kingfisher, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Ursula K. Le Guin, the collections from the British Library Tales of the Weird, etc.), but also a few that i don't like and some that i have not yet read ;

if upon seeing that list the first novel you check out is by Stephen King's you have not understood the assignment ;

not all of those are strictly horror stories, some are 100% science fiction (Brian W. Aldiss' Hothouse for instance).

📚 QUEERBOOK 2024 is hereee! We made a book by and for LGBTQ+ youth! 🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍🌈

Last year, we asked LGBTQ+ youth: what's your idea of a "queer utopia?"

Not gonna lie - with more than 150 bills introduced in 35 states in 2023 that aimed to restrict student access to inclusive and diverse books and other library materials, the theme felt pretty radical.

And you DELIVERED. With the help of our Youth Voices (amazing queer youth activists from across the country), we compiled your amazing submissions of poetry, short essays and letters, visual art, photography, and more into Queerbook 2024. Like a yearbook, it captures what queer youth are feeling, going through, and hoping for - right here, right now across the U.S.

It's also no accident that it's the perfect small-ish size to stash in your locker or backpack so you can crack it open any time you're looking for some queer connection. :3

Read some more about the book and grab your own limited-run copy of Queerbook 2024 now here.

Something about how the Eye’s always been there. About how Jon’s voice starts slow and monotone in the first season, when he still doubts these statements. Something about how, toward the middle of the statement, before the thing happens, he takes a breath where the victim took a breath, where their thoughts stumbled. About how he reads them and laughs when they do, and how his tone changes.

Something about how, in Mag 33, Tim was asking Jon why he classified things under the wrong date, someone’s name was wrong, something was cross-referenced wrong…he Knew all along, and had no idea he did.

Something about how he knew everything since the beginning, he read the statements as if they were his own stories, with fear and questions and scoffs and stutters. Something about how the Eye’s been in him since he worked above the basement.

Something about how Jon would read each statement and give what seemed to be an initial reaction to the content—shock, fear, ‘more spiders’— and then say “I had Martin look into this,” and then explain what they followed the case with, even though this seems to be the first time he’s read it. About how the Eye looked into every case, or set it before any of the gang and had them look into it before Jon could read it.

And now, something about how the computer voice fades. How Jon’s voice is still there, how he’s still real. How he’s real on his own terms, in computers still run by the Eye. How he can’t escape but he’s still listed as “unknown” on his Wiki page. Something about how Jon Simms is still out there and still being human through these wires.

Something about how the Eye’s known and loved Jon, and how the Eye still crinkles when someone tells a lie and how Jon’s still human enough in there to read these statements to everyone, listening or not.

can we like…get rid of the so-called leather and rubber “pride flags” ? it’s honestly ridiculous and offensive to the lgbtq community. those aren’t pride flags. 

literally my favorite type of tweet

The symbolism of flowers

Flowers have a long history of symbolism that you can incorporate into your writing to give subtext.

Symbolism varies between cultures and customs, and these particular examples come from Victorian Era Britain. You'll find examples of this symbolism in many well-known novels of the era!

Amaryllis: Pride

Black-eyed Susan: Justice

Bluebell: Humility

Calla Lily: Beauty

Pink Camellia: Longing

Carnations: Female love

Yellow Carnation: Rejection

Clematis: Mental beauty

Columbine: Foolishness

Cyclamen: Resignation

Daffodil: Unrivalled love

Daisy: Innocence, loyalty

Forget-me-not: True love

Gardenia: Secret love

Geranium: Folly, stupidity

Gladiolus: Integrity, strength

Hibiscus: Delicate beauty

Honeysuckle: Bonds of love

Blue Hyacinth: Constancy

Hydrangea: Frigid, heartless

Iris: Faith, trust, wisdom

White Jasmine: Amiability

Lavender: Distrust

Lilac: Joy of youth

White Lily: Purity

Orange Lily: Hatred

Tiger Lily: Wealth, pride

Lily-of-the-valley: Sweetness, humility

Lotus: Enlightenment, rebirth

Magnolia: Nobility

Marigold: Grief, jealousy

Morning Glory: Affection

Nasturtium: Patriotism, conquest

Pansy: Thoughtfulness

Peony: Bashfulness, shame

Poppy: Consolation

Red Rose: Love

Yellow Rose: Jealously, infidelity

Snapdragon: Deception, grace

Sunflower: Adoration

Sweet Willian: Gallantry

Red Tulip: Passion

Violet: Watchfulness, modesty

Yarrow: Everlasting love

Zinnia: Absent, affection

Moving On

Summary: Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their wrist. The main character has one, but after he dies, they get another.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X reader, then Eddie Munson X reader. No y/n, just a main character in first person.

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: SPOILERS for season 3 but I’m imagining you already know that. Billy dies, depression, being hurt, abuse mentions, a little gore. This is mostly angst and then fluff at the end.

Since the beginning of my life, I’ve had one name written on my wrist. First and last. The letters were neat and took up the space from bone to bone.

Billy Hargrove.

And for a long time, the ink was dark. The letters were engraved, unmovable. They were beautiful against mine on his wrist.

We were happy. We got along better than our parents did, their names fading and constantly being replaced. Ours seemed permanent, and I think we hoped it was.

It should have been that way.

A year ago, a new boy showed up in a blue Camaro and had the heart of every girl in sight. I immediately decided I wasn’t going to talk to him at all, but there was no avoiding the pretty boy from California in such a small town.

We were in the hallway. I was in a short sleeve shirt, even though the air was just beginning to chill. A few girls spotted the name on my wrist through my locker, and they turned toward me in jealousy. Before they could say anything, or tell me to stay away from him like everyone else did, I felt someone behind me.

“Hello,” he said. My stomach dropped. I didn’t want this, I had a test in my next class, but I turned toward him anyway.

“Hi,” I said. The girls near us giggled and walked away like they hadn’t just been planning to kill me.

“I’m Billy,” he cooed. He popped his gum. He held out his wrist to me, not his hand to shake. He pulled back part of his watch to show me the name there.

It was my own name. I chose to ignore the fact he hid it to play around.

I introduced myself, gave a sad excuse to leave, and did.

I pretended to not see the pink sticky note he slid into my locker. My heart fluttered until I met him later that day behind the school, and every day for the rest of the school year.

That summer was the best summer I’d ever had. When I was around him, I felt like I was understood. His family wasn’t good. Mine wasn’t either, and it felt better than anything to tell that pain to someone. It felt good to be touched by welcoming hands, ones that genuinely cared about me. I think he felt the same, but Hargrove would be damned if he ever admitted he had feelings. He still showed me more sides of him than any of the Hawkins girls got to.

I thought it might have been the fireworks that made him change so suddenly. We spent New Year’s in the woods, alone together with the snow, so I didn’t know how badly they could have affected him on the Fourth of July.

I thought it would be a good idea to go to the mall, to buy him something nice or to find him and give him comfort. We’d made the mall one of our places, and I had a feeling he was there that night. The loud noises from fireworks put me in a bad place too, but I thought I might have been able to help him.

The roof was gone. The glass glittered over the floor. The lights were flickering or entirely burned out, there were no people except for the ones on the opposite side of the middle.

And I still don’t know how I saw all of that before my eyes finally took in the thing that stood in the middle of the mall. It’s form was red, twisting like it was alive. It breathed heavily, its face, or faces, pointing toward the screaming kids and teenagers across the way.

The room began to light up with fireworks and loud noises, colors and fire painting the walls and the red thing in the middle. My mind spun, I felt like the noise got louder. The lights brighter. I couldn’t think.

The thing screamed. I did too, but I didn’t realize it until I got home later that night and my throat burned.

I ran across the mall, trying not to catch the thing’s attention but to run to some sort of safety with the other people.

I wished I had just stayed home. It was too late to leave now.

In front of me was a girl, lying on the ground, head bleeding. She cried. Above her was Billy, my Billy. He was crying too, his head in her hand. The girl whispered things to him and he cried harder.

I watched in a haze as he sacrificed himself for the girl I had never met before. Behind me, his sister screamed and ran toward his limp body after the thing dropped it.

The huge monster dissolved into a pool of blood and mucus, the substance filling the mall’s drains. I threw up, I think.

Nancy Wheeler and her boyfriend found me, along with the others. They told me everything they knew that night, but nothing quite stuck. I couldn’t get the image out of my head: his white tank top being painted with black blood, his body hitting the tile. The sound of fireworks and screams echoed through my mind, relentlessly shattering my eardrums.

They took me home. And they checked on me every day for months. I knew they wanted to help me, that they understood too, but it seemed like they were there only to make sure I didn’t tell anyone what I saw. I knew my brain made that up, and I hoped with all I could that I made everything else up too.

But nothing changed for those months. Summer passed. The next school year started. I was in a black sludge, I jumped at every noise again. I didn’t go home much. Christmas came around and I found myself in his house, not knowing how I got there. The ground was coated with snow, the room smelled like a heater.

I took his jean jacket and left through the window, where I assumed I had come through before.

I didn’t take the jacket off for a long time. The smell of his cigarettes and cologne had long faded, leaving the stench of my tears and grief woven into the fabric.

It felt like nobody missed him. I roamed the halls of the school and the storefronts lining the rest of town. Littered along the stucco were pictures of Barbra Holland, Chief Hopper, and a few other people I didn’t recognise. There wasn’t ever one of his.

I found a single poster during the summer. I could hardly see his face through all the heart stickers and lipstick smudges. I wanted to rip it off the wall, I wanted to burn it. These girls were so in love with him, they missed him so much that they had to kiss a fucking poster of him? He was mine, he was mine and these girls were still in love with him, even in death!

But I did not rip it down, or burn it, or find the girls that did it. I only cried underneath the faded paper for hours until the store manager kicked me out. I wasn’t the jealous type, but I had never felt so horrible in my life.

It just felt like I was the only one grieving.

The world went on, whether I followed or not. The black ink on my wrist began to fade. The letters were still there, but they hurt every day. Nobody ever tells you they hurt when they leave, down to the bone. It feels like an ache, and there’s nothing you can do to help it.

Before spring break, when the rain was pouring outside the school’s windows and the air was sticky, my wrist finally stopped hurting. I checked it to make sure the letters weren’t gone, and they weren’t. They just stopped fading.

At lunch that same day, I ran crying to the bathroom because the skin began hurting worse than any pain I’d ever felt. I held it, kissing the letters, praying they wouldn’t disappear. My tears clung to my skin as I sat on the disgusting floor.

The pain slowly ebbed. I breathed on it, trying to keep myself quiet. I didn’t want to look at it. It would hurt me worse than whatever the hell that was if the letters weren’t there when I pulled my hand away from my mouth.

I sat there, catching my breath well into the next period. I felt like enough of a human to stand up again. I closed my eyes and brought my hand down. I let it stop tingling before I covered it with my other hand, not daring to look at it.

I wrapped it in a paper towel and found my next class through puffy, red eyes.

The people who sat at my desk saw the towel. They pitied me, I could tell. They must have known what it meant, but they didn’t ask me. I thanked them silently that they left me alone.

I did no work that day. I stared into space as the sky went dark. I shivered on my roof as the cool air set in and the fireflies showed themselves. I decided I wanted to know. If there wasn’t a name, I supposed it was for the best. I could always get them tattooed for real, and I knew that would hurt less than whatever happened in the bathroom that afternoon.

I took my flashlight and a hoodie from my room and left to the park where Billy and I used to meet. I sat beneath our tree, I didn’t care that my ass got muddy.

I took the paper towel from my wrist before I could think about what I was doing.

The letters were still there. I almost stopped looking when I saw them, just the reassurance that they were there was enough to stop me from doing something I would regret. I studied the curves of the letters like I didn’t do that every day as a reminder he had existed at all. I burned them into my retinas before I dared look away.

And I didn’t quite do that. I looked just under the faded letters, and my stomach sank at what was there.

There was another name. The letters weren’t the same shape, the font was bold and spread out, not sprawling and almost elegant. That’s why they burned, I supposed; they had to etch themselves into my skin again. I was just incredibly glad that they left the letters above alone.

Eddie Munson.

I might have been in a haze for almost an entire year, but everyone knew Eddie “the Freak” Munson. He had made himself known well before I knew Billy, but I never talked to him.

It didn’t make sense. I knew he had a name on his wrist, I had seen it myself. He practically framed it with silver bracelets and tattoos. I guessed I had never truly read it. And if it was mine, then what? Would I have to get myself together in this wet grass and tell him?

I sighed and realized that I was crying.

I didn’t think it would be easy to let go, but I didn’t think I was ready for that yet. My body and the Gods decided that for me, apparently. I decided a long time ago that I didn’t have to follow them, but maybe I wanted to. Even if we were wildly different, I thought it might be good for a change.

So I got off my muddy ass and went to school the next day wearing something colorful under Billy’s jacket for the first time all year.

When lunch came around, I found myself at Eddie’s table before he and his friends even sat down. I wasn’t planning on changing my life the next day, but I was there anyway.

When he neared the table and saw me there, he hesitated to set down his plate. His friends did not, they slumped down into their cheap chairs without glancing at me.

“I know you,” he told me. “Well, I don’t exactly know you, I’ve just heard the stories.”

I finally looked up at him.

There had always been a storm surrounding my head since last summer, it coated my eyes in a strange film and pressured me to cry every time I thought of his name, let alone anything else that I knew about him or about what we went through. I tried to fake it, to act like everything was fine, and that I could get better. And I never felt like I could.

But his brown eyes cleared an opening in that storm. I felt the sunlight on my skin, I felt the fresh air in my lungs. And I felt new. I felt like I could finally be something other than numb. I felt like I could change. That I didn’t have to get better, but that I could live with it.

“I’m sorry, by the way.” He said. It took me a second to understand what he said.

I didn’t say anything back. The rest of the table filled in. I recognized a few of the kids from that night at the mall, but it seemed that everyone went back to forgetting about me for a minute.

Everyone but him. I could feel his eyes on me as I contemplated what to tell him.

Instead of talking, I waited for a lull in the conversation that didn’t come.

So I pulled up my sleeve and set my wrist down on the table.

Everyone went silent at the table. The others in the room continued on like I hadn’t made one of the biggest confessions of my life.

“Holy shit,” Mike said. He stared at the names there, and I knew he recognized both. He knew what having two names meant, they all did.

Grief was not permanent. Not in my case. Not according to the Gods.

Eddie was in the chair next to me in seconds- I hadn’t even seen him move.

“May I?” He asked, gesturing at my wrist. I nodded and he took it into his hand. The coolness of the rings on his fingers practically burned my skin, but I almost sank into how gentle the touch was.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” he said. He didn’t quite say it loud enough for everyone to hear, but I assumed they were watching it all happen. “I’ve checked everyone’s names. I’ve seen yours, and you didn’t have…” he trailed off.

“It only appeared yesterday.” I told him.

He showed me his wrist. My name, in simple letters, was surrounded by bracelets with charms of hearts, skulls and cigarettes. He ran his thumb along his own name. I pulled it away then, but I didn’t mean to. It just reminded me too much of Billy.

He pulled back too, in a silent apology, then held his other hand out. “I’m Eddie.”

I shook his hand and introduced myself. He went around the table and introduced them all to me, but when he got to the two boys from the mall, they told him they already knew me.

They looked sad. Not sad for me, but just sad.

Maybe they did miss him. I hoped they did- I didn’t want to be alone in this.

“Hey, do you want to meet me after school?” Eddie asked. I nodded. “Meet at the soccer field, okay?”

“We have Hellfire tonight,” the boys at the table protested.

“Hey, we’re having a moment here.” Eddie flung a pretzel at one of their heads. It hit him between the eyes. “If I don’t make it to Hellfire, I don’t make it.”

“It’s Vecna’s night!”

“I don’t care!” He said.

I didn’t think he gave up on caring very often.

The bell rang, and the entire room stood up. I watched the boys leave before I began the rest of my daily routine.

Eddie tapped my wrist again. “Soccer field, okay?”

I nodded.

Being outside this time of year sucked. My hair stuck to my face, my neck, everywhere. I had to take off Billy’s jacket and set it next to me, which already felt too far away. I tried doing homework while I waited for him to find me, but I couldn’t focus.

I brushed my hair out of my eyes and looked back up at the brick school.

I saw him then, no backpack, no books. Just his chains and smile.

He waved at me, still out of earshot. I waved back, but I don’t think the fake smile I had mastered quite did it for him. His smile faded as he neared me.

“Are you okay?” He asked as he sat next to me. He pulled his legs up into a criss-cross, facing me.

“Yeah, I think so.” I told him. It seemed true for the first time in a while. I didn’t tell him that, though. I didn’t think I needed to.

“So my name appeared only yesterday?”

“During lunch, yeah.”

“What did it feel like? I can’t remember getting mine.”

I huffed a laugh. “It hurt like shit, I was crying in the bathroom.”

“Oh my god,” he breathed. He held out his hand, and I set mine in his. He touched the names there so lightly I thought I imagined it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know I would literally hurt you without even knowing you.”

“You don’t have to apologize, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“I’m still sorry.”

He only touched his name. I didn’t realize that until now. “Does it make you jealous?” I blurted before I even formed the question well enough to be spoken.

“What?”

“That there’s two.”

“No,” he touched Billy’s name, just as light as before. I flinched, and I almost pulled away. “Sorry. I’m sorry. No, it doesn’t make me jealous. I just feel horrible.”

“Why?”

“Because I never knew him. I’ve heard the rumors around school about the both of you, but I don’t have any memories that are mine. And you’ve been hurting so bad, I wish I could understand why.”

“They all tell me everyone understands grief.” Which was true. The school counselor filled my ears with her lies like those when my grades took a fall. She told me it was a universal language, but I didn’t think that was true either. Nobody would quite understand mine.

The worst part is that they think he died in a fire that night. That he couldn’t run away for some reason, that he was at the mall on July 4th just for fun. There were always so many broken ties, unfinished lies that blurred together to create half a truth.

“I’m going to pretend that’s true.” He said.

We sat in silence for a few minutes. He kept my wrist in his hand, but he soon held my hand. “I don’t want you to be sad anymore.”

I looked up at him.

“I don’t know how you’re feeling, and I won’t try to understand. I really won’t. But you can talk to me, you can tell me anything. I’ll be here for you.”

I had heard those words before, all of them sounding muddy and half-true. But these, coming from a freak and a weirdo like the one before me, sounded so much more genuine. I hadn’t felt like anyone actually wanted to listen to me, or like they could understand me at all. But I felt like he could.

I was crying before I knew it. I felt the tears falling from my eyes, then I felt him drop my hand and watched him freak out.

“Oh no, what do I do?” He was looking at me, but he seemed to be racking his brain for anything helpful. “Should I hug you? Is a hug okay?”

I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me. I melted into the touch of comforting hands. I could tell that he knew it was more than grief that weighed me down, and I thanked the heavens that he knew enough about me to ask before doing anything.

I cried into his chest for a while. He held me tight, but left enough room to breathe or run away, whichever came first. I was thankful for him, but I didn't dare try to speak and tell him so. My throat was closed.

He waited until my breaths matched his before he asked, "Do you need a ride home?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to go home."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Snack date?"

"That sounds amazing."

I got up first. He took my books and backpack into his arms and led me to his van. As we drove, we told stories of the names on our wrists. I told him nobody had seen his name until lunch today, and we laughed about how people would talk tomorrow when I showed it off.

"Did it scare you that it was my name?"

"Not at all," I told him. "I just recognized you, and I knew I had to say something."

He hummed. "I knew you before today." He said. "I know I said that. But I do know you, past what they say about you, about last year."

“You never talked to me?"

"I didn't need to. I thought you didn't have my name because someone else had mine. That happens sometimes, you know?" I nodded. "And this year I knew you needed your space. But you came to me."

I nodded again, even though his eyes were on the road.

"Why did you?"

It took me a minute to answer.

"I want to get better."

He flashed me his wild smile.

—Note—

I got distracted while writing this and couldn’t get back into it again, but here’s what I think would have happened: they got closer and they understood each other better, and our main character never really leaves their grief behind, but they begin to live with it. Eddie helps them be happy again, and he knows when to give them time. They might be soulmates, but they’re platonic. They stay best friends :)

Nicknames

Summary: All the nicknames your soulmate is called by are written on you. The main character is covered and finally meets the person that’s been covering them in names since they could remember.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x gn!reader, but no y/n. The main character is written in first person.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: No smut, a little homophobia, drug mention if you squint. Kissing!!

Across my skin is littered thousands of words. Some of them were put there by me, little scratches reminding me that there's a test in history tomorrow, to take a shower tonight. There are tattoos there, hidden under the crude words: marks of stars and little planets. They’re covered now.

For most of my life, my skin was blank. There were just a few names, all versions of the same, larger one: Eddie.

Then, as I got into middle school- when I'm sure his skin began to fill with "bitch," and "liar," and worse- my skin began to overflow. They started out in simple scribbles, teasing words from friendly mouths, but the fonts began to get harsh. The letters were pointed, not intricate, not rolling. The letters practically burned as the words "druggie, disappointing, freak, fag" appeared on my pale arms.

There's no way to cover them anymore. I could wear long sleeves, but it's not classy. My parents are disappointed, even though I have no say, no control. I haven't even met him.

"Charismatic, charming. Fag, freak, insane."

I showed them off. I hoped he did too.

It was summer. The air was hot and sticky, it clung to my clothes and my hair. I brushed the loose strands from my face and smiled into the mirror. Under my hair was a new mark. My body was almost full, but the words overlapped where they could. This one was decent, at least.

"Eds."

I took my keys from the counter and left. I didn't have a plan, but I didn't think I needed one. I just needed out.

So I drove. I drove from my small town into the next, smaller town. Hawkins wasn't interesting in the slightest, but I needed something to do. And we didn't have a radioshack. What town didn't have a Radioshack in 1986? Mine.

The car's engine groaned as I pulled into the parking lot of the store. The open sign beamed at me. No friendly words greeted me like they had a year or two ago, when Bob Newby still worked here. I'd heard rumors, but I just assumed he'd escaped small-town life. I would take what I could get with the high schooler at the counter.

I got what I needed and left, but I decided I would stop at the comic store next door. I wasn't interested in reading comics, but I didn't want to get back into the car and drive back home so soon.

I flipped through volumes of Xmen, thinking I might get a coffee afterward.

The door opened, the bell rang. I didn't look up.

Next to me appeared a kid with a bowl cut, towering over me as he watched me flip through the books. I kept going, thinking he might stop me when he found what he wanted.

He found something else instead.

"No way," he whispered. He took my wrist and flipped it up. I turned toward him, hoping this kid, probably too young for me, wasn't the freak that littered my skin. He didn't look like it, but I supposed any small town kid could be called horrible things. "No fucking way."

"What?" I asked. He still hadn't looked at me, just at the scribbled words along my arms.

"I know Eddie."

"This one?" I looked back down at my arm.

"What other one?" He looked at my face and his eyes went wide at the word above my eyes. "That's awesome." I shrugged as he shook his head. "We have a club, it's called Hellfire. Meet us at the high school at six, okay?"

"Kid, I don't even live here. I'm in the next town over." I jutted my thumb in its general direction. "I gotta be home."

"Doesn't this matter more?"

I didn't think it did, but I supposed he was right. I had been waiting my whole life to meet the Freak that left so many marks on me, and I finally had a halfway decent opportunity to do so now. I also didn't know how this could go wrong.

"Okay. I'll be there."

"Great. God, this is so funny. Your entire body is covered."

"What about you?" I asked him defensively. I had gotten used to being stared at a long time ago, but I only just started to learn how to bite back.

He didn't flip his arm around. He didn't show me the names coating his wrists, he just blushed instead.

That could mean a million things. Either the ink is faded, they met and they weren't right, they were too young, whatever else.

He turned back to the comics and continued going through the box I just had. I checked my watch; 4:15. I sighed and went to the other side of the store.

Whether the kid knew it or not, he found himself next to me again. "When did they start showing up?" He asked.

"When I was in middle school. They got really bad around there too." I told him.

"Huh." He was biting back laughter, and I could tell.

I ignored him. It wasn't in my best interest to talk to a child. I bought a stuffed animal that I didn't need, but I felt bad for spending too much time in a store without leaving with something. I watched the boy set down his stack of comics, catching a few sprawling words on his wrist. They were harsh, blurred, hazy. One stuck out- the name Will- before he flipped his wrist back over.

"Six tonight!" He yelled after me. I shut the door.

I smelled like popcorn and coffee. I looked like a mess, but I didn't think it mattered.

I've been planning a moment like this all my life. Every kid has since they could read, the fantasies getting more vivid as they got older. For me, I've imagined everything from accidental meetings to set-ups, roses falling from the skies, kisses in the rain. When the words started appearing more often, all that was shattered. I thought I would accidentally stumble upon the right homeless person, pay the wrong employee too much, call the wrong person whatever my mind came up with when it left my mouth.

The fantasies faded a while ago. It wasn't always on my mind like it was on some of my girl friends', their intricate stories and plans drained me. It was absent enough for me not to think about it now.

I stood against my car door, the chocolate drink making my hand cold and wet. I wiped it on my jeans. Was I nervous? I took another sip. I didn't think so.

A van pulled into the parking lot at a wild pace, then slammed to a stop across three parking spaces. A few kids on bikes rounded the corner of the brick school. Leading their party was the kid I met at the comic store.

He stopped in front of the doors to the school, then turned to the van. Out of the backseats came two boys that looked to be older than me. They rocked plaid and ripped jeans, holding boxes and dice between their fingers.

Then, out of the driver's seat, came a man with longer hair than anyone's I had seen. His fingers were covered in silver rings, his jacket was ripped and sewed with black string around a few names on both his wrists. His boots echoed on the blacktop as he joined his friends, the chains on his thighs jingling.

"Eddie, holy shit." The boy said. He was looking at me. I supposed I should walk up there now, and maybe actually talk to them.

"What?" He deadpanned, none of the kid's excitement catching on.

"I met someone," he said, already quivering. He nodded toward me.

And everyone turned toward me. At the same time.

I didn't take a step back. I wanted to, but I stayed put.

"Holy shit!" One of the younger boys shouted.

Eddie came toward me then, his eyes glued to my arms, covered in his name, among other things. "Look at you," he cooed. I almost blushed, but I didn't let it happen. I just took another sip of my drink.

He took my wrist, the one not holding the coffee, and read over the names.

He held his out to me.

It said my name. That was all I needed, but I read on. With each word came a story in my head of the cause, but there weren't many to think of.

"Is that…?" The kid asked. Eddie took my hand and turned back to the boys.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came.

"It was me! I found them! I did it!" The kid said. His eyes darted from his friends' faces to mine, to Eddie's. None of them were quite as excited as he was. They all seemed shocked.

"I'm ditching Hellfire tonight." Eddie said. The boys threw their protests, but he raised his free hand and they hushed. "We have catching up to do."

He started walking first, though I wanted to. I didn't know this town, but I could see the woods behind the school. They looked much more inviting than this dirty parking lot. He started leading me to them anyway.

"Use protection, Eddie!" One of them called after us. He turned and looked back at the boys, and they all put their heads down.

Once we were out of earshot, he strided in front of me and turned around. I stopped in time, not spilling my coffee over him like I thought I might.

"Hello," he said. He put his free hand over his heart, still holding mine with his other. "I'm Eddie." He said.

I laughed at him, at this entire situation. I introduced myself in the same way, adding a little curtsey at the end. He smiled.

"Mike is never going to let that go, you know." Before I could ask, he continued. "Meeting you before I could."

"He should have called you."

"Nah, everyone told me. You're the kid that's covered," he traced my wrist, "that comes a few times a month and only goes to Radioshack."

"And you knew that was me, how?"

"Freak," he traced a word. "Loser, insane." He dropped his voice. "Fag. I really am sorry for all that. I wish it were different."

I only just met him, but I could tell there wasn't much sincerity in his voice. He was sorry, but not about the words. Just the amount of them.

Then he reached up and brushed my hair away from the one on my face, the ones on my neck.

And he smiled at them.

"You don't hide them?" He asked me. He seemed genuinely curious, like he expected me to.

"No. It shouldn't matter."

"It does, though."

"What, the names?"

"No, not the lies. The person." He backed up a bit, then gestured at himself up and down. "Are you tellin' me I don't matter?" He beamed.

"I dunno, we've only known each other for a few minutes. I'll decide if you matter after the first date."

He hummed. "I'll go out with you. But you're lying, we've known each other all our lives. I know you're a liar," he pointed at the word on his skin, "I know you're a bitch," another word, "and I know your name, and I know you're a loser too. You know me fairly well." He ran his fingers along my forearm.

"I don't think I do." I admitted. And it was true. The man standing before me was not a freak, he didn't seem like a loser or a druggie. He seemed different, but in a way that made me feel safe.

He didn't say anything after that. I couldn't imagine he was a quiet person, but he was silent now.

"I was right, though. I thought you might show off these words too." I pointed at my skin. "That you would own them like me."

"I try, my love. I try."

The word "love" painted itself across his cheek.

I took a step back, accidentally pulling him with me. It really was true, I guessed it just hit me then. I stared at the word, written in a font that never dared touch my skin. Things written like that belonged under wedding bands, across hearts, on gravestones. Not on a freak's face.

He touched it. He must have felt my laser focus on that spot. He hummed again. "It's true, darling."

"Darling" appeared on his other wrist. He smiled and opened his mouth to say another one, but I stopped him.

"How about that date?"

"That sounds amazing."

I drove him to dinner at the least fancy, cheapest restaurant he directed me to. We needed loud music and good food, not shitty piano and candles. We talked about the words etched into our skin, but we began talking about much better things once the easy questions were out of the way. I told him about my parents, my friends at home. That none of them would be excited to know I met the Eddie, that I spent my evening with him, that I was breaking my almost non-existent curfew.

He told me about his parents too, about his life here in the smallest town known to mankind. He told me about the tragedies in this town, about the loss it's endured. I told him I knew, but only about the conspiracies. He told me of his strange friends and their strange tales, of his club and his hobbies.

I listened to him with more attention than I've given anything in a long time. I told him that too, I felt like he deserved to know. I didn't have much of anything going on to focus on, so that would leave me more time to call him whenever and hang out. He seemed stuck on the part that I was actually listening to him, and it wasn't in the setting of his club, and my gaze wasn't harsh and my words scalding. I thought it might have been nice for him to be listened to like this, where he wasn't judged. But I reminded myself that he didn't care about the words on my skin as much as I didn't.

We went back to my car. He told me how to get back to the school, and I followed.

I parked my car across another set of three parking spaces. He got out, and I followed. I didn't know why, but it felt like the right thing to do. I closed the door and pocketed the keys, standing against the car.

He came around to my side, then stopped in front of me.

"Thank you for tonight." He said. He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, but didn't drop it.

"Anytime, literally. I'm always bored."

"Were you bored tonight?"

"Not at all." And for once, I wasn't lying. It wasn't like my mom's stupid dinner parties where I had to lie to get by. I finally felt like I could tell someone the truth.

"That's good. I would hate for my soulmate to be bored on our first date." He hummed. His eyes were glued on mine. "Do you want to go out again?"

"Yes." I didn't think. I just said it. "Yes."

"Great. This time, I'm coming to your strange town."

"You're not meeting my parents."

"Not yet," he added. "I can prove them wrong." I looked him up and down as he finished, then met his eyes again. "Okay, maybe not. But I'm funny." He added.

"I guess that's true. They're not funny people, though."

"Then I'm charming." He ran his thumb over that word.

"Maybe…"

"Then I'm hot."

"They're my parents."

"Then… I'm charismatic."

"You're helpless." The word printed itself on my back. I could feel the tingle of a new word, the whispers of it more familiar than most things.

"And you're beautiful."

Another word appeared on his wrist.

"We're not doing this again." I said.

"Fine, fine. But I'm not letting you go home without a kiss."

My heart skipped a beat. I physically felt it do so in my chest, the butterflies flowing down to my knees.

"You can't just say that," I giggled.

"Why not? I'm a flirt." That word was not on my skin. I shook my head. "I'm straightforward." Neither was that one. I shook my head again. "I'm truthful? I'm quick? I'm… thoughtful, I'm reflective-"

I shut him up. I kissed him once, something like what I might give to my mom on her cheek before she goes to bed. I tried to show him he wasn't any of those things, but that he could be.

It didn't have the maybe-I-care, maybe-I-don't effect on him. He took a second to stare at me in shock before he kissed me this time, softer than I had. He broke apart, but that didn't last.

Before I even realized that time passed, his hand found my hair and we were making out against my car. I never imagined us here, in the parking lot of a high school both of us were too old for after a cheap dinner in an unfamiliar town. I never imagined my soulmate to actually be the weirdo my skin told me he was.

I thought that he might be able to be my freak.

He broke us apart to breathe, finally. "You're-" he kissed me again, "so-" and again, "pretty."

The word appeared down his arm.

He smiled against my lips and I knew that his skin would soon be covered in pet names, in words he would whisper against my skin, compliments and slurred words alike.

I think I liked that idea.

Or alternatively, where the main character lives in Hawkins:

My skin is covered in names before I'm even in sixth grade. Some of them are words I had to find dictionaries to understand, just a bit too advanced for me. They were horrible words with even worse meanings, the fonts as harsh and unforgiving as the people who shouted them.

His name was Eddie. And I had heard of an Eddie before, in whispers around the school hall. It was a name that was never said too loud, especially when they saw me around.

It grew harder not to see me. The black lettering was everywhere on me, and had begun to overlap when I made it to high school.

I didn't cover the words up. I didn't use concealer like the girls did to etch out my soulmate into the person I thought he should be. I didn't fear the freak, I was intrigued.

It was the first day of my freshman year. I sat alone, most people did. Around the room, I tried to determine the age of the people by how tired they were, by how many people sat around them, and by how big their backpack was. It wasn't a great pastime, but it made me less of a loser than the kids in the corner reading their textbooks.

In the corner, I saw a group of boys. They wore plaid and denim, the colors clashing with each other. Their heads were together in some conversation, but someone came over and dumped their milk onto a plate of the tallest one, who immediately turned to face the freshman who caused the mess.

The boy muttered "fag." The word burned itself into my forearm. I didn't look down to see if it was true, but I watched the little freshman put his head down. He looked scared, almost. Then he ran away.

The freak looked around the room for another attacker, but his eyes landed on me instead. He said something to his friends, then they all turned toward me.

I wanted to look back down at my sad school lunch, to disappear into the dirty floor. But that didn't happen before the three boys sat in front of me.

Their eyes almost burned as they looked at my skin.

"Hello," Eddie said.

"Hi," I managed to say.

One of the boys took my wrist and flipped it. They all read his name printed there, along with all the other things on top of it.

"Easy," Eddie said, "they're my soulmate." He whispered. He caught the attention of a few people around us, but they all went back to their food. "You are, right?"

"Obviously," the boys said at the same time. I winced.

"Oh, no need for that. I'm used to it." He told me. I nodded. "I'm Eddie," he said. He held out a hand, covered in silver rings.

I shook it.

And from then on we were Hawkins High's infamous couple. The Freak and his Whiteboard. The first year was rough, there were more names on his skin than on mine. It began to even out in the second year. People were still jealous that we had met, and they hadn't met their "whore" soulmate or whatever their skin told them. I figured out in our third year that they were freaked out by how coated my skin was with names, but I loved them from the beginning.

The names used to tingle when they were put into my skin. I winced every time, and people called him more names to hurt me when they took notice. Every day after school, he would kiss each one to take the pain away, to put more feeling into the words than what they were said with. The horrible taunting became something for me to look forward to, and I think that freaked them out even more.

His friends liked me, and they caught on with our scheme. They teased Eddie, but for my sake. I thanked them, but bullied them back in hopes their soulmates' skin might look like mine. All at my own doing.

So the boy who made my skin almost dark with names followed me around with his sprinkling of teasing for the rest of high school, and well into the rest of our lives.

I dont know who to ask and the internet is not giving me much but, is incense dangerous to animals? I really like burning incense for spells, cleansing and generally bringing a nice smell to my house, but i also want to get pet rats and i dont know how those two will work together. Is there anything i can substitute for incense in spells etc or what should i do in general?

WITCH SAFETY 101: HERBS / ESSENTIAL OILS / INCENSE AND PETS

Hi! It is ok to burn incense with pets as long as they are in a separate room away from the smoke. Cats are risky because they don’t have the enzyme we have to break down essential oil particles but things like lavender are safer. Since rats are usually in cages most of the time, as long as you keep them in the cage in a separate room, and after, let the room air out through the windows for an hour... It should be safe.

Incense is safe as long as you keep it in a different room than your animals because certain animals can be more sensitive than others. 

Rats have a very sensitive sense of smell that even little things can disrupt their respiratory system. So make sure you don't burn it for too long and be very careful about what you burn. And to make sure you burn it far away from the rat.

It is your choice if you want to eliminate all risks or limit them. I have 2 cats, and as long as I have followed these safety precautions (5 years), they have never gotten sick or lethargic. 

I’ve actually seen some fear-mongering posts that say if you burn anything in the house it will automatically kill your animals. While this is good information to keep people from posing a risk to their pets, if you take proper precautions, it should be ok if your animal does not suffer from (Breathing problems, bad liver, or a heart condition. When in reality, if your pet is suffering from essential oil/incense poisoning, it will not kill them in a single day, but poses a risk if you ignore the symptoms. You will see the symptoms as follows:

Dizziness (You can tell by your animal's eyes rolling back and forth)

Vomiting

Shaking and tremoring

excessive drooling

diarrhea

Collapse or seizures

Lethargy, depression, or dullness

If you see any of these symptoms, contact a vet immediately.

Safety precautions:

- Keep your pets away from smoke/diffuser and in a different room

- Make sure to clean the area if something spilled

- Keep what you're burning high up

- Work in a highly ventilated area

- Keep it away from fabrics and carpets.

Remember that these incense/herbs/oils are toxic to rats:

- Peppermint + Eucalyptus (Will kill them instantly don’t do it)

- Jasmine

- Lavender 

- Black pepper

- Rosemary

- Oregano

- Sage 

Part 2: If all else fails

Take a pot of water, boil some vanilla extract, orange peel, and star anise, and it will make your house smell wonderful. You can substitute incense for beeswax candles anointed with special oils and herbs that are nontoxic to rats!

Medical Sources:

Cats:

https://emergencyvetsusa.com/scents-that-are-bad-for-cats-dogs

https://www.petpoisonhelpline.com/blog/essential-oils-cats/

https://vcahospitals.com/know-your-pet/essential-oil-and-liquid-potpourri-poisoning-in-cats

https://www.today.com/pets/essential-oils-danger-cats-warning-signs-look-t121300

Dogs:

https://emergencyvetsusa.com/scents-that-are-bad-for-cats-dogs

https://vcahospitals.com/know-your-pet/essential-oil-and-liquid-potpourri-poisoning

https://www.petpoisonhelpline.com/pet-safety-tips/essential-oils-dogs/

https://coralvilleanimalhospital.com/news/essential-oil-diffusers-and-your-pet

Rats:

https://animalknowhow.com/what-essential-oils-are-safe-for-rats/

https://luciesapothecary.com/essential-oils/essential-oils-pet-safety/

http://pghspayvac.com/essential-oils-toxic-for-cats-dogs-rabbits-birds

Reptiles:

https://eluxemagazine.com/culture/articles/which-essential-oils-can-hurt-your-pets/

https://www.animalaromatherapy.com/educate-empower/safety/fish-reptiles/

Birds:

https://www.thesprucepets.com/are-essential-oils-safe-for-birds-4587493

https://eluxemagazine.com/culture/articles/which-essential-oils-can-hurt-your-pets/

https://organicaromas.com/blogs/aromatherapy-and-essential-oils/is-it-safe-to-use-essential-oils-around-birds

https://callmeoil.com/essential-oils-that-are-safe-for-birds/

I hope this helps!

Dysphoria Tips Masterpost

Emery, Lee, and Charlie say:

Hey, everyone! Dysphoria is a real pain in the butt to deal with, and we know it can be difficult to find ways to lessen it or distract yourself from it. You don’t need to have dysphoria to be transgender, but many (if not most) trans people do have dysphoria. And gender dysphoria (for those who have it) just sucks. 

Since we get a lot of asks from people who are looking for tips to help manage their dysphoria, we thought we would make a masterpost to help everyone out. So, this is some added advice from the mods on coping with it! The key is distraction, and trying to remember that it will get better one day. Here we go!

Articles and Posts About How To Deal With Dysphoria

Dysphoria when you have to sleep

Dysphoria when you have to go swimming

Dysphoria that prevents you from leaving the house/doing activities of daily living

Disablity-friendly dysphoria tips

Dysphoria on vacation

A coping tip

Body neutrality

Dysphoria while at camp

Motivating yourself to socialize

Calming down when you can’t correct people who deadname you

Overcoming invalidation

Staying clean when you have dysphoria about showering

Shower dysphoria

More on shower dysphoria

WikiHow to cope with gender dysphoria

9 strategies for dealing with body dysphoria

How do I deal with dysphoria?

20 Small Things To Do When Gender Dysphoria Gets You Down

25 Things I Do To Make My Body Dysphoria Feel Smaller and Quieter

More on coping with dysphoria

Dealing with dysphoria

A post with suggestions for coping with dysphoria

Take care of your mental health

8 tips for managing dysphoria and mental health

Waiting for or in-between surgeries

Wishing I was cis

Transfeminine-Specific

Transfeminine Dysphoria Tips

More dysphoria tips

Hip dysphoria

Transfeminine Period Dyphoria

Having sex or masturbating

In-the-closet transfeminine dysphoria tips

More in-the-closet transfeminine dysphoria tips

Transfeminine resource page

Songs

Virtual makeover

Dysphoria about not being able to birth a child

Height dysphoria

Our Transfeminine resources have a ton of info that can help you wherever you are in your transition, from finding breast forms, DIY voice training, clothing styles, info on medical transitioning, and more! So check out all the links in the Transfeminine resources!

Transmasculine-Specific

Transmasculine dysphoria

Dysphoria when you have to wear a dress

Dysphoria and periods

Masturbation with dysphoria

Binding when you don’t have a binder

Height dysphoria

Hip dysphoria

Our Transmasculine resources also have tons of helpful stuff for people at any stage of transition, including info on how to get short hair when your family doesn’t want you to, info on medically transitioning, passing tips, packer info, and more! So check out all the links in the Transmasculine resources!

Non-binary specific:

How to feel more androgynous

Mix and Match Androgynous Swimwear For People Of Any Gender

Practical Androgyny

Formal Tips for Nonbinary Cuties

Activewear for the androgyne aesthetic

Our Non-binary resources has a bit of stuff on non-binary medical transition, pronouns, gender neutral language, and more!

General Tips

Making a music playlist of your favorite songs! 

You can also explore new music on YouTube, or check out some CDs from your local library.

We had a whole assortment of recommendations a while ago for music that helps people when they feel dysphoric because they can sing along. You could try to sing along to music, or lip synch if that makes you feel better, or just listen to your fav songs!

Cleaning or tidying and/or doing laundry; doing something to make your environment/surroundings better can also give you a sense of accomplishment.

Name and pronoun affirmations 

You can make yourself some cards with your name and pronouns on them and carry them with you, or doodle in a notebook or make virtual edits and/or ask supportive friends and family to verbally participate in these affirmations

Wearing clothes that you feel good in (shoes, hats, dresses, sweaters, accessories etc.)

Taking up a hobby that you find enjoyable (skateboarding, making bracelets, writing, learning a new language, playing an instrument, joining a tabletop gaming club, etc.)

Watching YouTube videos (let’s-plays are Emery’s fav, and Lee likes music videos)

Dyeing your hair and/or getting a haircut (this can make you feel like a million bucks). 

Info on getting short hair is here for transmasc people!

Transfemme people could try buying some cute hairclips or headbands from CVS or another store, which are small enough to easily hide if you’re in the closet.

Check out our dysphoria tag! You’ll see other suggestions on things to do, and Qs from other people who are dysphoric. Remember, you aren’t alone.

Journal about how you feel. 

You could have one journal for negative things, because it feels good to get them out, and another journal for positivity and notes to yourself. Or you could write everything all in one place, it’s up to you. 

You could also post on a private sideblog, or type in notes on your phone if you don’t have access to a physical journal

Practice some grounding/calming/meditation techniques.

Soothing grounding exercise 

Physical grounding exercise

Mental grounding exercise

Grounding techniques 

It’s a good idea to do something that makes you feel extra valid as your gender, like packing, binding, tucking, and wearing breast forms.

Maybe trans feminine individuals could put on makeup, or clear nail polish, or use flower-scented body wash when they shower. We have info on tucking here.

Trans masculine people could put on a button up, or masculine-coded clothing, or make a beard with makeup. We have info on binding without a binder here, and packing without a packer here.

Practicing Self-care, ex. taking a bath with a bath bomb (if that doesn’t induce dysphoria) to wind down.  Maybe having tea and going to bed early?

You feel like sh*t: interactive self care

Talking to and getting in touch with other trans friends/people you may know, who will understand what you’re going through and are willing to support you is important!

If you don’t have a GSA at your school, PFLAG meetings in a nearby town, or any other local LGBT support groups, online community can be helpful too.

Take a walk and/or exercise a bit!! Even if you’re unable to do that because of disabilities, get some fresh air and new scenery if you can.

Find little things to appreciate about your body, or try not to think about it at all. Remember, this is about what helps you best, and it’s different for everyone.

Spend time with a pet, if you have one!

Try to work on planning your transition. Have a goal, and plan how you’ll get there.

Gather information about legally changing your name where you live when you turn 18 or the age of legal adulthood, read up on the effects of hormones, look at different surgery techniques and surgeons and prices, etc. We have info on some of the above in our transfeminine and transmasculine resource pages.

Start saving money now, even if it’s only a few dollars a month, or a few coins. When you turn 18, you’ll be informed and ready to start your transition, even if it involves saving money for a few years after to be able to afford it if your insurance doesn’t cover it fully. It’s possible, and you can do it! 

Watch other people’s transition videos, and read their transition blogs. Again, this may help or make it worse, but you will be better prepared.

Go to your local public library and read a book, if you can! That might distract you, and it can be either fun or educational or both. 

You can also see if they have any programs/events coming up, or see if they have any museum/zoo passes you could check out.

Listen to music, wear comfy clothes, curl up with a blanket, and chill out. Be cozy!

Have a countdown until you’re 18 (you could use an app or write it in a calendar) or a countdown until you’re able to get a new shirt, or whatever you’re looking forward to. Countdowns can be motivating.

Get organized! Clean things, sort through your things, make lists of what you need to do, color code, or whatever you want. It’ll help take your mind off things, and you’ll be helping yourself later.

Make your own Activity list of things you can do to help with dysphoria or distract yourself. Try to include as many healthy options as you can!

Include 3 things minimum that you know you’ll be able to do, like putting on affirming underwear or going on a walk for example, but make sure it’s three things specifically that you can do. 

Include 3 goals you will have to work harder to do, like maybe exercising or filling out a DBT or CBT worksheet.

Tips For When Dysphoria Makes You Want To Self-Harm

Holding an ice cube in your hand

Writing in a journal (it can be extremely therapeutic)

Listening to music

Playing a video game (a puzzle game or fighting game might be particularly helpful since they require a lot of concentration)

Going for a walk (exercise can produce feel-good endorphins in your brain)

Watching a funny youtube video or doing tongue-twisters (laughter also produces endorphins)

Taking a hot shower (they’re particularly great for relieving tension)

Practicing breathing techniques (inhale for 8 seconds, hold for 4 seconds, exhale for 8 seconds and Belly breathing)

Drinking tea (something like chamomile, mint, or peppermint is best)

Coloring (I personally really like ones that feature Disney characters!)

You can google “Coloring pages” and just print some out! I (Lee) like mandalas

Reach out to a friend or family member; they can distract you, and it’s harder to do anything when you’re in the company of others.

We have more info on coping when you want to self-harm here.

Take care of your mental health! You can try getting a therapist and being in therapy, and take a peek at a few of the things below:

Awareness of unhealthy thinking styles

Distress tolerance skills

Distress tolerance activities

Panic list for distress tolerance

Improving distress

How to make a comfort box

Emotion regulation skills

Emotion regulation worksheet

Problem goal framework

Mindfulness of your current emotion

Letting Go of Painful Emotions

Vicious cycle and alternatives

What will help?

Positive self-talk

Self-validation

Behavioral Activation

STOPP worksheet

Triggers

Coping with dissociation

Handling dissociation

10 Tips on How to Work Through Feelings of Social Isolation

An interactive self-care guide

Anxiety Masterpost

Check our Mental health page for tips on dealing with specific issues

YouTube Videos That Talk About Dysphoria

FTM ~ what is dysphoria (uppercaseCHASE1, white transman YouTuber)

NON-BINARY DYSPHORIA?? (OutOfThisBinary, a channel run by several nonbinary YouTubers)

HOW I MANAGED DYSPHORIA (Kat Blaque, black trans woman YouTuber)

QAC 26 - Gender Dsyphoria: It’s Complicated. (a rant) (QueerAsCat, black afab nonbinary YouTuber)

DRAW MY LIFE (princessjoules, Vietnamese trans woman YouTuber) Tw: mentions of transphobia and abuse

Distract yourself! Watch TV, play video games, or do craft, or waste a few minutes on one of the websites below:

tap the keyboard to play the piano (Tw: flashing lights)

listen to rain

cute little games

click on the ad to donate food to pet shelters

free rice.com

NASA pic of the day

gibberish essay typer for fun

military time clock that changes color

play echogenesis (basically click on stuff and listen to music)

make designs

drag your mouse for an expressionist painting

this website just says “heeey” and “hoo” repeatedly

do nothing for 2 minutes

look at calming scenes and listen to relaxing music

sound effect drums

dramatic music plays while the things you type fall off into space

click on the boxes to make electronic music

comic asteroids explode

colorful sand layers

whale follows your cursor

watch indie movies

rabbit: watch netflix online with a friend

watch netflix with a friend

find the song that was playing in that show/movie

How to Download Songs or other Audio from Tumblr

infinite jukebox

play all the music posted on a tumblr blog

code academy: learn to code

learn a new language

learn new stuff

learn sign language

draw something or edit pics

make homemade playdough

make stress balls

print mandalas to color

cool crafts

Our Suicide Hotlines and Crisis Resources is a list of places you could contact to talk to someone if you’re feeling suicidal. Please, reach out and get help. We can’t answer suicidal asks, but we care about you.

Reblog this and tell us how you deal with dysphoria!