One Shot Book (Danti/Septiplier)

'Girly'

~ Jacksepticeye One Shot ~

902 Words

* Includes Possibly Triggering Or Depressing Themes Along With Homophobic Slurs *

Third Person POV:

Ever since he was younger, Jack has been told that he is supposed to act and dress like a boy. He's never fit that role though. He likes to dress in 'girl' clothes and feel pretty. His parents never allowed this though, they were strict about gender roles, not to mention they were very, very, religious.

As a child he always played with his sister's dolls and tried on her dresses. Once, he was caught, his father walked in while he was playing dress up with his sister, and, let's just say it didn't end well. He learned his lesson. That was over 10 years ago now, but he still knows to lock his door if he's wearing anything considered 'girly'.

Of course, he still wears skirts and dresses, but he never lets anyone know. He buys his clothes online so he doesn't receive judgement, his parents can never tell what he's bought either. Jack lives in fear, he learned what would happen if he bought his clothes from the local store or wore these clothes that he loved in public.

So Jack was sure to lock his door before he tore open a new package and laid his new clothes on his bed. A pretty, pale pink skirt and a white bralette sat in front of him. Quickly, he removed his jeans, revealing the tan panties with black laced trimming he was wearing beneath them. It was a way for him to feel better in public, wearing panties. Since he couldn't wear anything anyone would see, he wore panties to cope. It's the one thing that made him feel better, feel okay.

After his shirt was removed, he pulled on the little outfit, sighing in relief at the feeling of being in different clothing. It was strange to him, how being in different clothing made him feel better, normal. Although he never really did feel normal, he always felt out of place, no matter what he did.

He stood in front of his full length mirror, the fabric of his skirt between his fingertips. Smiling slightly, he sighed once more before thoughts began filling his mind. Memories of the day his father had found him while he wore a dress began to return. His body trembled and droplets of water escaped his eyes.

*Flashback*

6 year old Jack sat in his sister's room wearing a pretty pink princess dress, a beautiful Barbie in each hand. His sister was wearing similar attire, but a purple dress, a doll in her hand as well. They giggled as they spoke for their dolls. A door opened, an angry gasp following as both children looked toward the intruder. Jack was too young at the time to realize he wasn't allowed to do these things, that it was unacceptable.

His father grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a delegate room, shutting the door behind them.

"I will not be raising a fag in this house!" He exclaimed, his hand leaving a red mark on the boy's face.

A single tear stained the child's cheek.

"You are a boy and will act as such! Understand me?" Jack was questioned in an angry tone.

"Y-yes," the word left his lips just before another harsh slap was received.

"Learn some respect, boy!"

"Y-yes, sir," he corrected, trying his best to withhold more tears.

*End Of Flashback*

Jack shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as voices began to mock him within his mind.

You're a boy! You can't dress like this!

You can't like other boys! You're a faggot!

His eyes seemed to be rainclouds at this point.

Crying shows weakness!

He's weak. He just can't take it.

His eyes opened and he moved toward his bureau, opening one of the drawers. Fingers trembling, he moved a few things around, finding what he was looking for and picking it up in an unsteady manner. A blade. One that he had removed from his pencil sharpener recently. Making his way back to the mirror, he looked up into his own, blood-shot, baby blue eyes, watching tears trickle down his porcelain cheeks. Slowly, hands still shaking, he moved the blade toward his scar-littered wrist, dragging it across his skin. He felt that familiar pinch as his thoughts urged him to continue.

Deeper.

Biting his cheek, he pushed down on the blade and continued to drag it. Blood trickled down his arm.

Who knew something as simple as clothing could make him do this?

-

(A/N): perhaps this isn't good, i'm not sure. once again, i apologize for my extended 'brake', it was not intended. on february 14th, i had a very bad day, which had nothing to do with the fact that it was valentine's day. i was just very depressed and a lot of personal stuff happened, so after that, writing wasn't particularly on my mind. i'm so sorry for not updating though. this is kinda random but slightly based off of a recent experience i had (which didn't involve self harm). i got nail polish, and i'm not very 'girly' and it made me feel very different. i struggled with some gender dysphoria, and that inspired this. although, jack is not trans, just breaking gender stereotypes and struggling with internal hatred. anyways, love you guys:)