Jarchoo
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She felt… Wanted. She felt appreciated. She felt seen. And for the first time in her life, she actually felt pretty. And that felt good.
Years of dysphoria but someone finally made her feel like her. Something she on her darkest days felt impossible. But now it was real. Now it was here.
Thanks to her girlfriend, Jaina felt good about herself. She felt pretty. She wanted to show off. She wanted to tempt Sylvanas. Make her feel like she was lit aflame like she did with Jaina every day.
--The one where a trans Jaina feels confident and desired enough to send a spicy picture to her girlfriend.
Bookmarked by LeninsCatgirl (Jarchoo)
08 Oct 2025
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Summary
Some shorts vaguely in a universe I may expand on later. Written during my ever more common depressive swings. They are not well thought out or researched. They're my attempts at coping as I try to navigate depression.
How a feeling can be wrong and how you can logically know it is and still ache as it tears you apart on the inside.
- Words:
- 4,259
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 2
Bookmarked by LeninsCatgirl (Jarchoo)
08 Oct 2025
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THE WOMAN ‒ “Of course not.”
THE WOMAN ‒ The woman holds you tighter. One of her arms is under your waist, the other under your knees. If you focus, you can feel the rippling muscles in her arms, her shoulders, her back. She’s a lot stronger than you thought. Especially for a human.Magistrate [Easy: Success] ‒ Because she’s *not* fully human. Kul Tirans have interbred with Drust for so many generations that she’s at *least* twenty percent Vrykul.
Desire [Easy: Failure] ‒ Mfmnmm… hot lady… strong…
Magistrate ‒ Sure, yeah. That too.
1. You’re right. Hot lady.
2. Curl into her. Hold tight, hold close, hold her so violently close that she’s incapable of letting you go, even if she wanted to. Even when she wants to, which she inevitably will.
3. Curl into her, but, like, in a normal way.---
or, the one where it's disco elysium
Bookmarked by LeninsCatgirl (Jarchoo)
08 Oct 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
Electrochemistry: Ooh, yeah, baby! This right here is gonna make the last three days worth it. A fat syringe full of clear, medical-grade, Federally-backed estrogen. Aqueous estradiol valerate, to be precise.
You: — What happens when I inject myself with estrogen?
Electrochemistry: — Oh, no. No, no, no. Don't tell me you forgot what estrogen does. Estrogen. Remember? Uh...anticistamines? Feminephrine?
Encyclopedia: [Hard: Success] — You haven't forgotten. Generally speaking, patients undergoing hormone replacement treatments will experience a variety of physiological and mental changes. Drier skin, growth of breast tissue, weight redistribution, decrease of body hair growth, shifts in facial fat and musculature. Emotional changes vary wildly between individuals, but are often reported to be "intense".
Electrochemistry: — Bzzt. Wrong. Estrogen is like junk, baby. A calm, soothing, smooth-like-butter body high. A referral letter from two medical professionals and a couple of shed tears in a therapist's chair are the only things keeping every sucker on the street from turning into an E-junkie. Getting it is hard; stopping after you've had your first sweet shot is even harder. This is serious shit. And now it's all yours. Shoot it up!
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[Sylvanas]: but its okay cause im ur friend now
[Sylvanas]: and i really really like u :)[Jaina]: I don’t want to be too dramatic but I think you’re literally changing my entire life
[Sylvanas]: in a good way i hope?
[Jaina]: Yeah
[Jaina]: In a really good way[Sylvanas]: :P
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or: the one where they're seniors in highschool, jaina is the awkward introverted tgirl who reads in every class, and sylvanas is the school's golden girl
Bookmarked by LeninsCatgirl (Jarchoo)
08 Oct 2025
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“So how did you know?”
The question comes out of the blue, breaks the sleepy silence that had settled between you. Your thoughts were elsewhere, muddled and quiet for once, still a little high off of Ortega’s hands, but her words drag them back to the present.
“How did I know what?” you ask. You can’t tell what thread she’s pulling on, can’t even dig into her head for answers, so you have to find out the old fashioned way.
“That you’re… Well, not straight,” Ortega explains. A little sheepish smile; “I guess I never asked you what you call yourself.”