The Symbolism Of Flowers

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

📚 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.

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 :)

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

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. 

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.

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!

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