#Almost everything he says about how he felt about dysphoria and stuff like that I’m just like “me too”

[i-may-be-an-emu]

noahfinnce’s music is so good I love him

[silly-little-soul]

Best of Men - Kaz Brekker

A/N - It's currently 8am, I spent the past hours writing this because sleep is overrated, I think it turned out quite well considering this is my first time writing for Kaz

A/N 2 – a week later now, I'm so sorry for the wait I decided to make it longer after all and then some stuff happened, nothing bad just time consuming I hope you enjoy anyways!

Also I'm still working on making a better post format I apologize

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Fandom: Six of Crows

Format: oneshot

Type: comfort

Relationship: Kaz Brekker x Reader (romantic, established relationship)

Reader info: trans ftm, implied crow

Summary: Kaz comforting a trans-masc reader who feels dysphoric

Warnings: established relationship, gender dysphoria, mention of unintended misgendering, Kaz almost kills sb for like 0.5 seconds, emotionally dense Kaz, slightly OOC soft!Kaz, actually atp might as well just say Kaz in general is his own warning /hj

Proofread: Yes!

Word count: 1165

Requested: @alex-kazbrekkersimp

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  To say it was a bad day was an understatement. It was one of the days everything felt wrong, even more so than most days, and the nagging inside your own head just wouldn't seem to stop. You were familiar with these days of course but it didn't exactly make them easier. And just when you thought you managed to tuck the feeling away rater well you were tasked to show around some new Dregs who right of the bat made you feel even worse when by addressing you with feminine titles. You knew they had no ill intention but in your current state that was barely doing anything about the waves of dysphoria crashing down on you. After a moment you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't have the energy to correct them and risk conflict so you simply turned and left for your room without another word.

So here you are now, sitting on your bed with your head between your knees. You're sure Kaz will be rather upset at you for simply leaving the new Dregs but at least Jesper agreed to taking care of them when you ran into him on your way to your room meaning they wouldn't be unattended. You don't really have the mind to care about that currently anyways.

A knock snaps you back to reality. The door opens and you don't need to lift your head to know it's Kaz, the sound of his cane against the floor giving him away easily. “Y/N.” It comes out much harsher than intended and he winces at the “I know I shouldn't have left” you mumble quietly. „Y/N“. He tries again, his voice much softer this time, a tone he rarely uses (and if he does it's with you, always with you). You shake your head, refusing to look up at him.

With a sigh he sits on the bed next to you, he makes sure to keep a small distance so he doesn't risk you touching each other accidentally but the proximity itself is a sign of trust, something reserved for you and the crows, only the people he deems save. There's a minute of silence between the two of you before Kaz comes to the conclusion you won't be addressing the problem on your own accord. “Jesper made me aware of a.... situation.” You don't reply but the sniffle coming from where your head is still tugged away from view makes his grip on his cane tighten.

When Jesper told him about what happened he was about ready to go straight to the Dregs responsible and demonstrate to them why people feared Dirtyhands but he was stopped by Inej who suggested it'd perhaps be better to check up on you first, saying she'd handle them (though her definition of handling the situation was much calmer and more reasonable that Kaz's). Though reluctantly he ended up listening to his friends, not keen on breaking his promise of always being there shall you need him.

“Love.” The use of the pet name made you look up finally. Seeing the glossiness of your eyes he stretches out his hand, deciding last second to lay it right next to yours instead of risking trying to put it on top. “I won't say I know how you're feeling as I know I never will but please be aware that whenever you need me I'm right there by your side..” He looks down at your almost touching hands for a moment, trying to find more he could say to comfort you. To his relief though you speak up this time. “Sometimes it.... it just feels like no matter how hard I try I can't seem to be enough of a man.” You cure yourself silently for the way your voice cracks at the end of your sentence, pushing your head back in its old position. Meanwhile Kaz could swear he can feel something chipping away at his heart with how sure you sound of something that is not only hurting you but blatantly false.

“I might not know how you're feeling.... but I know there's voices.” He let's his gloved hand hover above yours, hoping his words are ones good enough. “Voices inside your head and heart, voices that seem to come from everywhere and sometimes even the voices of other people. They're telling you lies and things you don't deserve.” He finally seems to have won the battle he silently had with himself as he let's his hand rest on yours lightly. “Listen to mine instead.”

You look up fully this time to see Kaz already looking at you, eyes filled with rare emotion. “You are without question the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes upon. Absolutely dashing, stronger than anyone I've ever known, so stunningly brave. I know many men who think of themselves as powerful, strong, the best and I can guarantee you none of them stand a chance against you. You think you need to 'try' as to be a man but you are already more man than they will ever be. You're man at heart, something I believe most of them do not possess in the first place.” Relief washes over him when you puff out a small laugh at his joke. He lifts his hand from yours again, his gaze however stays fixated on you.

You take a few seconds to take in what just happened, Kaz's words having been uncharacteristically sweet, almost shockingly so. A warmth spreads inside both your chest and cheek. While you're still processing his words Kaz gets up from your bed, returning moments later with a tissue and the glass of water you had left on the little table in your room this morning, both of which you gratefully accept.

“I don't give a damn about who or what you were said to be much over a decade ago. I care about the beautiful, perfect man you grew up to be that I have the privilege of getting to spend my life with. No matter what anyone says. You'll always be you, the most incredible man to exist. Inej, Jesper, Nina, Matthias, Wylan, all of them would never see you as anything less, they all love you.” He lifts his hand again, resting it on your cheek carefully. “I love you.” It's barely above a whisper, the words still hard for him to get out even after all this time but the faint smile on your face shows him you heard him fine as he removes his hand again. “I know I don't say it as much as you deserve but I'm so very lucky to have you by my side. The best of boyfriends and best of men.”

Kaz Brekker wasn't one to let his affection show often but if it meant he could have the man he loved smile at him as strikingly as you did right now maybe he'd consider doing it more often.

<3

[misticloyal]

More Monkie Kid HC’s

I have absolutely nothing else to do then to debate things that could exist in an alternate universes with these ppl

.

-I saw a piece of fan art and I agree 100%, since Wu Kong’s staff is actually just a column from The Dragon of The East’s palace, he definitely knows how to pole dance. He’s got the strength of it and he’s a monkey so it’s obvious that he knows how to climb shit. 

It’s just funny though since just because The Monkey King knows how to pole dance doesn’t mean he’s good at it, usually he’s just good at the acrobatics, the flow and calculated spins don’t really qualify as entertaining stuff in his books lmao

.

-MK is absolutely obsessed w/ space. At first he was only into his normal animal zodiac (monkey obv- also I’m so sad we don’t know literally any of the character’s birthdays RIP) but after he started using the internet more in his free time- he had time to browse the internet almost everyday but now he’s got so much shit to do- he found out that there’s European Zodiacs too, and got into those as well.

He’s got all his signs figured out, he makes AND takes those personality tests based off of your zodiac. One day he was fighting Red Son, took one look at him and was like “Yeah, you’d totally be an Aries  🙄”

Mei wouldn’t stop laughing for a week lmao

.

-Trans MK is basically cannon at this point, but training with Macaque bak in season 1 fully cemented MK’s experience as being treated as his gender but STEREOTYPED

This sounds way worse then I typed is as, but basically during his training with Macaque MK essentially was being encouraged to indulge in everything ‘a man’ does, like focus on power and strength over literally anything else, and ‘take charge’ and all that.

And while stereotypes usually piss him off, it was an eye opening experience per say cuz after the whole ordeal MK reflected on how most male assholes were encouraging themselves to act like they’re better then everyone on the planet. While for himself, MK had to actually have someone tell him that in order to become better at fighting he needs to embrace his ‘manliness’.

Eventually that’s one of the reasons why Macaque complimenting his fighting was so shocking and meaningful, since it approves the effort MK was making to pass all that time ago. (Now he’s more comfortable with masc and fem presenting whereas before he got dysphoria). Also imagine being the literal enemy and gender affirming your student because they’re genuinely doing well in something, Macaque did at least ONE thing correctly lmao

.

-After encountering LBD and everyone piling on the ship it wasn’t a secret that everyone was stressed out especially after Macaque tried to attack them (let’s assume for the sake of the argument that they managed to fend him off without capsizing the ship LMAo).

But MK started to notice how weary Wu Kong was of accepting anything. Like- if someone offered him food he could come up with a random excuse, if he was cold and someone offered him a blanket he’d just make his own, etc. 

Obviously MK’s super heartbroken because of this and also vaguely curious so one day he asks Wu Kong what’s up, and after a lot of prodding, MK rounded up everyone and the Monkey King told them about how traumatizing and terrible the stupid fucking circlet was in JTTW. 

^I’m making a whole post about this rn but HOLY SHIT I hate that goddamn circlet.

Wu Kong explains how he trusted Tripitaka (after glancing cautiously at Tang) and how he actually felt so betrayed when the circlet started to hurt. Also how close the happen stances were that after the JTTW gang saw the bone spirit for the first time Wu Kong got punished twice just for trying to protect everyone. (With influence from Zhu Ba Jie obv)

.

-Fighting some big demon eventually caused everyone to wait in this random room completely silent (like I’m talking everyone, Iron Fan, DBK, Macaque, Jin and Yin, etc.)

And it was super awkward so MK takes out his phone and you hear this dumbass fucking noise

Mei who instantly understood the assignment ALSO pulls out her phone and after the sound plays a second time Red son very loudly claims

“The world is about to fucking end and you guys are playing fucking Clash Royal?”

To which Jin and Yin EXPLODE with laughter and Red Son has to hastily explain this stupid ass American mobile game to all the deities and adults in the room that have no idea what the hell is going on.

Wu Kong downloads the game so he can beat MK cuz he’s competitive like that (and subsequently gets mad when they don't have a character base off of him and claims he will be sending a letter to the devs about it LMAO)

.

-After trying to lift the staff in the pilot Red Son took pity on the bull clone that lost its arms and made it have a nice and safe life as his personal servant (it’s way better than risking its robotic life everyday)

.

-MK gets handed a cup of coffee in the morning and is like “Oh awesome, thanks!”

And then heads to the cupboard to get his straw.

If he eats soft serve ice cream MK will also refuse to eat it unless he uses his straw. The reason why I say ‘his’ straw is because MK always carries a collapsable metal straw with him. He’s built DIFFERENT bro

.

-In an AU where everyone’s on the airship and Macaque redemption arc is happening, Macaque and Wu Kong constantly switch glamours as each other whenever they don’t have the energy to do something.

Wu Kong has to sit through a lecture with Sandy, and Macaque has nothing else to do? Switch

Macaque is about to get ambushed by MK because he won’t stop asking by about his ears? Cashing in the favour, switch

It even happens for menial chores like washing dishes and doing the laundry and since they treat their switching as a reward/token system it’s like

“Macaque you get to do my turn in laundry, I’m cashing in my switch”

“Wha- no the fuck you’re not, it’s MY turn and I’m saving mine, bitch”

“Uhhh haha very funny, no it’s not I was keeping count dude-“

“Wu Kong don’t even try it I literally have the calendar right here and it says: Last switch- Macaque as Wu Kong hid from Mei and Red Son after he stole their chips,”

“Hmmm okay you make a compelling argument, HOWEVER- and hear me out here: how about you do it anyway” And then he ran off glamoured as Macaque.

“MONKEY KING ITS YOUR TURN TO DO THE LAUNDRY I WILL NOT HESITATE TO SET YOU ASS ON FIRE IF YOU DONT” -Red Son

“Gods fucking damnit peaches I’m going to kill you,”

.

-When MK fights demons he often ends up rambling about whatever he can think about in order to organize his thoughts, balance stress/nervousness, and in general throw off the enemy. This leads to some... interesting interactions w/ them lmao.

Red Son (we’re considering Spicynoodles cannon bois) finds this endearing but also extremly annoying. Especially while he’s trying to chase MK down he can’t stop hearing 

“Okay so yeah anyway as I was saying, there was this moment where he actually tries to kill himself but in a moment of- OH SHIT THAT’S HOT STOP TRYING TO SHOOT FIRE AT ME DUDE- in a moment of realization that he was being manipulated he jumps into a lake instead of hitting the ground-”

So... that’s something

-Extension to that: the only demon that does something other than try and kill him whenever he starts rambling is Macaque. Which sounds weird, but considering that back when Macaque and Wu Kong were still friends he would do this all the time, Macaque actually indulges MK in his ramblings. 

Like MK would start talking about the plot of some movie he saw the other day- mention sponges and Macaque would be like 

“Y’know kid it’s literally the weirdest thing that you humans use dead plants as a way to- what clean dishes? I mean just use a cloth it’s not that hard. Apparently sponges used to be made from coral I heard over the TV a couple days ago-”

“WHAT? Nuh-uh you’re lying we don’t use coral for sponges- AH DUDE CHILL OUT YOU ALMOST CRUSHED MY SKULL THAT TIME!”

“Oops, too bad I was a few centimeters off- anyway yeah I didn’t believe it earlier but if I think about it back in the old days we used to use moss all the time to get a cloth wet in order to wash shit since it stores water well so it wouldn’t be that far off-”

-Extra extra to this: one day Wu Kong stumbles into one of MK and Macque’s fights since he was in the area and all- and hears them hotly debating the credibility of some of Wu Kong’s adventures.

Mk while running for his actual LIFE:

“Okay I hear what you’re saying Macaque, but there is NO WAY Monkey King ate through those clothes that quickly! They would’ve opened the box already-“

Macaque while scanning the rubble to look for MK:

“Kid you have no idea what you’re talking about: I was THERE, dude. I was right there when it happened-“

Mk: “NUH UH that’s not in any of the books!”

Macaque: “YOU THINK SOME RANDOM HISTORIAN KNOWS I WAS STALKING THE GROUP AT THAT TIME!?”

Wu Kong: “You were WHAT”

Etc.

.

-Another one where everyone’s on the ship:

Sandy made a playlist that’s HUGE and plays it on shuffle on the speakers everyday. Usually it’s a bunch of like- 80′s music- idk how to describe it except for music you’d listen to while smoking a cigarette while it’s raining and looking out your window

Basically I’m aiming to say it’s really chill music

Anyways when this song comes on both Macaque and Wu Kong happen to be on the deck at the same time, and they ended up sitting down and reminiscing on all types of stupid shit they did in the past. 

It eventually became a ritual so whenever they hear the beginning of the song they drop everything they’re doing and make a beeline for they’re spot on the very edge of the ship so they can be only deities and brag about

“OH MY GODS remember back in the old days how-”

“Haha ‘back in the old days’- you sound like an old man, Peaches”

“Shut the hell up, Macaque I do not,”

“Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night 姥爷 ”

(姥爷 is basically saying old grandpa- a double insult to Wu Kong’s age in this context lol)

.

-Macaque really wanted to learn how to play an instrument at some point because he saw the weird human thing make noise (that slightly bothered him because of his sensitive hearing but he brushed it off-) and wanted to try it.

The first thing he ever picked up was a bell. 

The attempt ended with him curled up on the ground clutching his ears to just stop the ringing- he threw away the blasted copper piece of trash why were his ears still ringing?

He tried again with a Guqin since it makes an actual melody instead of being a percussion instrument but..,,,

He plucked a single string and feeling the vibration along with the intense sound overwhelmed him and he had to jump away from the thing to keep himself from throwing it across the field.

Yeah, Macaque stays away from instruments even though he actually was interested in learning how to use one.

-If you take this into account s3e8 is just so much sadder *cries*

.

[cat-arsenal]

Not to request something from my own list but if you’re interested: maybe the dialogue prompt “You don’t need to fit into anyone else’s ideas or expectations. You’re you and that’s perfect.” With Huxley :)

Transmasc Huxley x Transmasc Reader CW: Discussions of gender dysphoria, body image issues and anxiety, mentions of gender-affirming procedures

You open the door for Huxley, who greets you with a grin.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, Hux,” you say with a matching smile.  “Can we hug?”

“Hell yeah!  Bring it in.”  He hugs you, warm and tight and perfect.  “I love your hugs,” he sighs.  “You ready to head out?”

“Almost.  I just need to check my outfit one more time?”  He sobers a little.

“Of course, man.  Do what you need to do.”

“Thanks.”  He follows at a distance as you shuffle into your room, adjusting your clothes and hair in the mirror.  You’d felt good about everything earlier, but now it’s time to leave, you’re uncertain.  You pull your shirt down, fidget with the waist line, try to look like you’re just checking your outfit and not your entire body.  Do you need a haircut?  Do your shoulders look wide enough?  Hips too wide?  You smooth your hand over your chest fretfully, thoughts becoming dark and frayed--

“Hey.”  Huxley’s gentle voice cuts through the static, and you feel like you can breathe again.  “I can see you freaking out.  Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shrug helplessly.  “It’s the same old stuff.  Worried I look too femme.  Worried someone’s gonna know and maybe try to start something over it.”

Huxley approaches slowly, raises a hand carefully so you see him coming.  “Can I touch you?”  You nod, and he presses one of his big hands to your cheek, effectively holding your whole jaw.  “Listen to me, okay?  You don’t need to fit into anyone’s ideas or expectations.  You’re you and that’s perfect.”  He kisses your nose, smiling when you laugh.  “You look amazing.  And nobody’s gonna start anything while I’m with you.”

You press close to him, feeling his strong body, thinking of the times he’s been shirtless with you and let you touch him; let you feel his muscles, trace his scars, including the neat ones from top surgery; remember how he told you that his body and strength are for you.

Your ears are hot, tears pricking at your eyes when you kiss him.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

“I love you, too, babe.  We don’t have to go out, you know?  We can just hang here if you want.”

You smile, already feeling much better.  “No, I wanna go out.  I don’t always get the chance to show off a cute outfit and a cute boyfriend.”  He ducks his head, bashful but pleased.  “But maybe we can make it a short outing.  Come home early and cuddle, maybe?”

“Fuck yeah.”

[thorns-are-simps]

hi thank you for responding to my post <3. I don't typically leave requests so sorry if this is a bit awkward lol. can you write some comfort for a really dysphoric reader. like doesn't want to leave their room levels of dysphoric. preferably with he/him pronouns. again thank you!!

YES! Okay good you found the blog- can’t leave their room levels I got you that was the prompt I needed!

Mystic Messenger Characters Comforting a Gender Dysphoric Reader Part 1

For clarification: he/him pronouns for reader! The reader is a trans man.

Yoosung

That’s okay he can set up his games in your room.

He knows what gender dysphoria is, he went through a gender questioning phase at one point, so he’ll try to take your mind off of it.

He sets up a game with a customizable MC and tells you to make the avatar with him.

He tries to distract you as best he can, using games and food to keep your attention on anything else.

He repeatedly tells you he loves you throughout the day, forgetting about any college work he needed to do in favor of cuddling up with you in your bed and having fun.

He’ll hold you in his lap if you want, giving you his hoodie.

He’ll always offer up anything in his closet and drawers for you to wear if your want to.

He’ll talk to you about different trans characters he knows of in games and their backstories to show you some representation.

He tries to comfort you through showing you aren’t alone.

Your phone pinged, the sound of your phone’s text tone going off. You didn’t want to go out today, you wanted to stay in your room where no one would misgender you. But alas, your boyfriend was spam texting about a new game he’d just gotten. You hesitated in allowing Yoosung to come over, knowing he would probably not msg ended you but still not wanting him to see you. Something you’d always adore about him though was that he loved to be around you and could be persistent when he chose to be.

“MC I brought the game! You’re gonna love it! We can make the coolest hero ever and they’re gonna be great. Not as great as you but nobody is. We can even make them look like you if you want! You’re so handsome you know that? You in armor as a shinning knight… you’re already gorgeous, I didn’t know the image could get better. I’m getting flustered and red aren’t I?” He was. “Sorry, you’re just so handsome. Oh did I tell you about the trans LOLOL character they just released? He’s so cool you’re gonna love him! I brought some snacks too, you can snuggle up in my lap while we play if you want!”

Zen

You have what?

Gender dysphoria?

Your gonna have to explain it to him. If you’re don’t want to or can’t just ask him to look it up and he will.

As soon as he understands what it is at least a little he’ll directly ask you what he can do to help.

If you’re to the point you can’t leave your bed then he’ll simply get into bed with you.

He’ll hold you close, his arm around your hips and whisper to you all the things he loves about his boyfriend.

He’ll tell you about his handsome boyfriend who is gorgeous and drives him crazy just by existing.

He’ll tell you about his boyfriend who is so strong and so brave and he is so proud of you. You make his day so much brighter.

Zen comforts you in words.

He tell you you’re handsome and looks you in the eyes to tell you…

Zen was worried. He had just come home from work, having to leave soon after you both woke up and barely having time to really spend the morning with you. When he got him he usually shouted out that he was back, hoping his amazing boyfriend would hear him and call back. However that didn’t happen today. Today all he received was silence. He looked around the apartment, not finding his love until he finally checked the bedroom, seeing you curled up under the blanket and not in a good mood.

“What’s wrong babe?” He came over to try and console you for whatever you were going through but when you told him, he almost felt helpless. He’d never had to experience this before and didn’t know how to handle it. All he knew to do was to comfort you how he normally would. He slipped into bed with you and pulled you close to his chest, his arm around your hip and hand on your back. As he rest his head close to your’s he spoke in the softest tone he could, trying to be gentle. “You know how I’m so handsome right?” As much as you loved to stroke his ego, now wasn’t the time. “Believe it or not, I have a boyfriend who is even more handsome than me. I swear he could get me to do whatever he asked with one look into his eyes. I’m not sure if he knows exactly what he does to me. Every time I see him I have to hold myself back from pulling him in for a kiss. His lips aren’t always the softest but that just one more thing that makes him so… him. He’s real and he’s stronger than he gives himself credit for. He thinks sometimes that I won’t like his body after he fully transitions but… the truth is he could of come to me in any form. And his heart is what would of pulled me in. The way my prince loves me for me is why I’m here. He gets this thing called gender dysphoria which must really suck, but my prince is strong. I know he’ll make it through. And if he needs someone to lean on, he knows his faithful knight is always here to hold him up. I love you baby, and I know that my love can’t solve everything, but you know what it can do? Tell you that you’re the most handsome being on this planet. “

Jumin

You’ll have to explain it to him. If you don’t want to them he looks it up himself, feeling that whatever is making you so upset to the point of not leaving your room is very much too important to task to someone else to research.

He, unfortunately, can’t cancel his work day and makes you aware of this with a kiss to the head and a promise to be back as soon as he can be.

While he is at work and between meetings he texts you as he does research on gender dysphoria, asking you if you’d like to talk to a therapist about it, if you want to go shopping for a binder on his next day off, and if you’d want him to help you pay for any hormones and surgeries in the future.

He’ll offer to take you suit shopping as well, saying his tailor can do amazing things to give you whatever shape you want.

He also offers you his wardrobe. His clothes may or may not fit you as some of them are fit to his specific body but if there is something in there you want to try on he has no problems letting you.

He asks Jaehee to go get you a trans flag and deliver it to the apartment while he does work.

He tries his best to comfort you through gifts.

He’ll also try physical affection through kisses. Lots… and lots… of kisses.

Jumin Han was tired. Work was exhausting and he wanted nothing more than to sit in bed with you and listen to your voice. On his way into the door of your shared apartment he hears Elizabeth the 3rd jumping off something in the distance and starting to make her way towards him, as she always does when he gets home. He puts all his stuff down and feed Elizabeth, petting her head, before making his way to your bedroom. When he sees you it’s like his entire body relaxes. He undresses and puts on his pajamas, asking you how your day eases

“Did you like the flag? I looked up which one was the correct version and made sure assistant Kang got the correct size for the walls. Feel free to hang it up wherever you like. I know a tailor that will give you whatever shape you want love, I can book you an appointment with him if you’d like. He’s worked with a plethora of people so he’ll understand what you mean if you say your want to look like the man you are. I can also book you an appointment with a reputable doctor to discuss boron ones or surgery if you wish. Don’t worry about paying for anything, let me spoil you. Now come here snd let me show you how much I love the amazing man in my bed.”

Part 2

Part two will include 707, Jaehee, V, and Saeran!

[stoneworldsimp]

what’s mine is not yours —a request

platonic senku x reader

warnings: swearing, anxiety, talk of insecurities and worries, gender dysphoria

your name!

your name!

YOUR NAME!

your hands slapped to your ears, eyes shut tight. i can’t take this so early in the morning.

the voices from your dream had lingered longer than you would have liked. it reminded you it was time to face another day, to endure another long long day and night of hearing the wrong things.

maybe if i went and lived on my own again…i wouldn’t have to deal with it—no. senku needs me. he needs me…what does he need me for again? you rolled onto your stomach; your pillow rustled as you flopped it on top of your head. he doesn’t need me. i’d rather be lonely than hear everyone say some bullshit about me.

everyone in the village knew you as a miss. yuzuriha made you more neutral clothes upon request, but everyone assumed you were tomboyish. luckily, no one read more into it; it was nice to dress comfortably, but it was like no one else understood. why were they still calling you a girl? and the older folks, you knew they meant well! but you couldn’t help but feel like their constant “sweet girl”s were making fun of you at this point.

i can’t do it, i can’t do it, they’re making fun of me right now, as i think. as i exist!

you felt a tear trickle down the side of your nose.

oh, you’re kidding. crying? again? is this—

a knock on your door halted your thoughts; you quickly flipped back and sat up in your bed on the ground of your hut, and wiped your face quickly. you lightly slapped your cheeks to stop yourself from continuing crying.

“yeah.”

“it’s me. can i come in?”

senku’s voice brought some sort of relief; personally you felt it was better for him to come in at such a time than anyone else.

you took a deep breath. “sure, but i just woke up. i’m staying under my blanket.”

senku laughed behind the door. a small shove was made and it opened, revealing a quite chipper senku. he liked to come early in the morning when the rest of the village was quiet.

his smirk faltered once he saw your face. you believed you hid your crying well; you didn’t think to check your red eyes or stinging cheeks.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his words much gentler than when he asked to come in.

damn. how could i not realize i was so obvious?

with a deep breath, you whispered, “senku.. we’re pretty good friends, right?”

he snickered. “of course we are, way more than that asshole gen.”

his voice was closer. you laughed as well, and wiped your eyes clear. he slowly walked over and sat down on the floor next to you. senku was looking at you, really looking at you; it was intense, almost if he was making sure his closeness or anything about his presence wasn’t bothering you.

“okay…i’m about to say a lot of stuff. let me know if you need me to explain more, or if i’m talking too much. or—“

your words halted as senku put a hand on your shoulder, a smile light on his face. “all ears.”

you smiled back softly. “okay. so��back in..our time,”you gestured between the two of you with your hands, “i told my family and friends i was, uhm… nonbinary. like i don’t feel male or female, i use they/them pronouns; all that good stuff. still feel that way now. and, for quite some time, they didn’t believe me. not in a direct ‘you’re lying’ way, but more of ‘i don’t understand it therefore you shouldn’t understand it’ type of thing. i got a lot of shit from people who weren’t my friends, too. but with my friends’ support and getting more confidence after coming out, my parents were able to kinda see it. but yeah, it took quite some time. probably like.. eight months? even then, i had to remind them constantly, ‘not a daughter. please don’t call me she or he. please don’t call me a woman.’ but we were getting there. and right when we got petrified, right when it happened, i saw the look on my mom’s face.

“we were talking about me and my identity and it was like something had clicked in her brain. like, she knew exactly what i meant and how i felt when i said what it meant to be nonbinary. i don’t even remember what i said specifically, but i remember her expression as if she were standing in front of me right now. i was so hopeful i’d see her again, her expression got me through my petrification and even helped me break out of it. but of COURSE, i didn’t ever see her again after i woke up. and then i almost lost my own sense of self after being by myself for probably a year.. i was under the assumption i’d never meet another person again, so when i did run into your village—i had this gross feeling of dread. and i realized it was the same feeling that basically lived inside of me before i came out.”

you sat up straighter and looked away from senku. “it’s like, i have to rebuild my identity all over again. people always say you shouldn’t care about what other people say, but i can’t help it. i’m a sensitive person. i get hurt easily, no matter how hard i try to thicken my skin. they all, they all just use ‘she’ and ‘her’ and ‘that girl’ so often, it feels like they’re making fun of me, like they��re constantly telling me i’m not who i say i am. and i can’t tell them senku, being nonbinary was confusing for so many people in our time, i hardly believe they’ll understand it now. sure, my parents were fine, but it took a while before they got it. i can only imagine how long it’ll take for everyone here.”

senku was quiet. have you over explained yourself? was it too overbearing? in all honesty you’d only been good friends with senku a short while; you should have waited at least a little bit longer before letting him in on something so personal—

“it all, it all kind of makes sense now.”

huh?! “what?”

“what you told me, i think i get it now.”

you gave him a look up and down. it was possible, but you didn’t think there was much of a chance that senku would be so..cool with it. not right away. you expected some form of silent treatment for at least a day or two, so he could collect his own thoughts.

“i’m gonna say something, and i need you to listen. yeah?”

you stared at him like your brain short-circuited. what the fuck is he gonna say to me.. oh god, he doesn’t wanna be friends anymore. but he’ll be too nice to kick me out of the village. but it is his village—

“hey, hey…are you with me?” you both sat facing each other now, and his hands rested on your shoulders.

just hear him out. “yeah. all ears.”

he smoothed your shoulders with his thumb. “you’re just as valid as everyone out there. i know you’re scared, but believe me when i say they will not be mocking you in any way. sure, it might take a while for them to understand, but theyre not going to give up just because they dont get something right away. it took me a few months to fully convince this village i could help them, and even then, there were still a few who didn’t fully understand the experiments and contraptions i made until a while later. i know that isn’t the same as your situation… but what i’m trying to say is that they will try their best to know you, the real you. they aren’t going to mock you; if anything, they’ll have lots of questions to ask you.

“also, you have me, you have gen to help out in case you don’t have the capacity to answer everything yourself. i’ve a few things about gender before the stone world, and gen definitely knows a lot of things that are relevant to it as well.

“everyone here… they’re all so eager to learn, i highly doubt they’ll be unaccepting. they’ll be curious. and they’ll be happy you’re letting them in on something that is so important.”

tears had made their way down your face and on your clothes halfway through his mini-monologue; you didn’t notice him continuously wiping them away until he was finished. “it’s going to be okay. trust me.”

with a quiet sob, you pushed yourself into his arms for a hug.

“thank you.”

you knew he wasn’t particularly one for any type of physical contact, but he gladly accepted. for the occasion, he thought. his arms slowly wrapped around your slightly shaking body as you tried to calm down. neither of you spoke for a few minutes; only your soft sniffles were heard in the hut.

“senku, i think that was the most i’ve heard you talk about something that wasn’t directly related to science,” you laughed into his neck.

he laughed back. “i had a lot saved, since there were moments i could tell you were kind of uncomfortable. i didn’t want to force you into talking about it either, so i just waited. tried to figure out what i was going to say. it had to be good.. you are one of my closest friends, after all.”

both of you embraced each other a little tighter. “i hope all of this helped, i want you to live here with none of those worries. especially after so many months of having it bottled inside.”

you nodded in response.

today.. today will be the day i tell everyone not to use what they used to call me; that won’t do at all anymore.

today, i’ll tell everyone my name.

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[feralaot]

AOT characters + an FTM!reader s/o

I had a few requests asking for different characters with an FTM reader so this is just a compilation combining all of those!

warnings: brief mention of dysphoria, brief mention of transphobia

modern setting

Armin

oh lord he’s so sweet. he almost cries when you come out to him because he’s just so honored and happy that you trusted him enough to tell him something like that

after coming out he immediately drops your dead name and uses your preferred pronouns on the spot. he cares a lot and wants you to know that he supports you endlessly

if somebody says something rude to you armin will try to passive aggressively educate them because that’s his boyfriend they’re disrespecting 🤬

if you’re post op and are comfortable with being shirtless around him, armin might offer to paint on your chest and scars. it’s a huge part of his love language and he wants to show you that your body is beautiful no matter what it’s been through. flowers, landscapes, constellations... anything that he thinks is beautiful

with that being said his favorite flowers are cornflowers so expect a lot of those being painted on your skin

Jean

don’t even worry about anyone purposely misgendering you or saying something disrespectful, jean will literally beat them up no hesitation

he’s not very good at comforting someone but he sure does try. awkward pats on the backs calling you handsome and reaffirming your gender identity will probably be the method

he’s definitely a himbo and doesn’t understand it completely so you can expect to get a lot of questions from him about your identity but he won’t push any boundaries or ask uncomfortable things

he does however try his best to research on his own and educate himself to learn what to do to best suit your needs and be as respectful as possible :)

really doesn’t care how masculine you look or how well you pass, no matter what he’s gonna claim that he’s “the worse looking one” in the relationship and he’s totally okay with that

Levi

seems like the kind of person to not give a shit what your gender is. if he likes you and you like him, why should it matter? he doesn’t mind at all is what I’m basically saying

however don’t let that fool you. he’s very gentle and never pushes your boundaries. he’s also going to throw major hands with anyone who’s being transphobic 🙄

while he does seem to give off the attitude that he doesn’t care about anything he does care immensely about you and your mental health. he’s open 24/7 if you ever want to vent to him, he’ll listen with no complaints and be very thoughtful.

he’s surprisingly accommodating for you. obviously being levi’s anything is a difficult task since he’s so closed off to people in general but if he really trusts you then you’ve definitely earned it and you two are inseparable

his love language is using lots of positive affirmations and validating words like “handsome”

Hange

we already know that hange is going to be over enthusiastic about you and your transition, especially if you decide to medically transition. they’re gonna want to know everything about it and always tag along to your bloodwork tests

they’re also hands down the best shopping buddy, they’ll always offer to take you to whatever store you want and buy you whatever clothes you want

if somebody were to say something rude about you or them hange wouldn’t even bother trying to explain they’d just go straight to yelling profanities because “you can’t help stupid” 🙄

if / when you get top surgery they’ll be babying you through the entire recovery process; making sure you took your meds, making sure you have enough blankets, making sure you’re never hungry or thirsty. it’s adorable but can get just a little obnoxious after a bit LMAO

if you aren’t publicly out and don’t want other people to know quite yet, rest assured that it’s completely safe with hange. they may be a loudmouth but they know that this is a level of trust that can never be betrayed. they refer to it as “confidential”

Reiner

we have another himbo here that doesn’t know much about it but he sure does try his best to learn everything he should know so that he doesn’t accidentally say something insensitive

eventually he becomes well versed in vocabulary and quickly realizes that, yes, he is in fact gay for being attracted to you

he asks a lot of questions but stammers and stutters and apologizes as he expresses them. a lot of his questions are asking for clarification on things or specifics for how he can best accommodate your preferences. what’s okay to say in public? how do you prefer to be addressed? he sweats bullets honestly

he’s the most willing to go to pride events because we already know he’s a flaming homosexual and is willing to be loud about it, you’re his boyfriend and he’s gonna be proud of it

he’s gonna validate you with small mocking compliments like “ugh, stop being so damn handsome, I can’t even look at you!”

Bertholdt

when you came out to him he could tell that you were visibly nervous, so he immediately pointed out that it’s absurd to think he would be uncomfortable with it. he’s supportive all the way with whatever you decide to do and will be there for guidance if you ever need it.

he always offers you his clothes because naturally they’re probably very baggy compared to your normal size so a lot of your closet is just sweaters that you’re borrowing from him but he doesn’t mind because he thinks you look adorable in them 💗

I think he’s sort of touchy but it’s not something you see from him much in public, only in private. every day he would ask what you’re okay with, especially if you’re particularly dysphoric. he also checks in through the day to see if anything has changed

if you’re post op and comfortable with being shirtless he would like to gently trace your scars and tell you affirming things about how your body is beautiful, your scars don’t define you if you don’t want them to, etc

he’s very gentle and considerate and will never press you for details that you aren’t comfortable sharing or push any boundaries whatsoever

Annie

she acts like she doesn’t care very much but in fact she’s very grateful that you had enough trust in her for you to feel safe coming out to her. she doesn’t think a lot of people trust her but once you told her this fact she felt.... appreciated

she already knows a bit about gender stuff (porco is a trans guy too, so she had to deal with him when he was going through his transition as well) so you can take it easy and not have to worry about explaining things to her very often

she always reminds you to take your hormones or any medication you need, she’s very thoughtful and probably remembers your schedule better than you do LMAO you better take care of yourself or she’s coming for you

she says a lot of things like “handsome” and “my boyfriend” completely on purpose because that little flush on your face you get when she does is always worth seeing

if you’re okay with it, she’s very physically affectionate and will gently touch your chest or kiss your scars, just making sure that you know you’re appreciated in her eyes no matter what anyone else thinks about you.

[littleoddwriter]

Touch | Roman Sionis x TransMale!Reader

"hewwo can i request Roman with a ftm reader who is really affectionate physically , roman has to act like he doesn't care about it around other people but he secretly loves it and enjoys it when they are alone and specially in the bedroom" - anon A/N: I really hope this is to your liking ‘cause it ended up really fluffy and stuff, idk, I got lost in this.

summary; You’re a very physically affctionate person, which Roman needed some getting used to first. Yet, he loves your little touches. He also loves touching you.

notes; TRANSMale!Reader, who is post-Top Surgery; slight mention of Gender Dysphoria; Roman’s usual pet names for Reader in my fics (so slight Daddy Kink, but no actual mention of that particular word); Touching; Loving Touches; Lying in bed after sex; Scars/Top Surgery Scars; Fluff.

You have always been a physically affectionate person and some people loved it, some people tolerated it, and some people hated it. Though, of course, you tried to leave those alone that hated it; but when they were your boyfriend, best friend or someone as similarly close to you, it just wasn't easy for you to keep your hands to yourself. You liked to squeeze someone's arm, rub your hand over their arms or thighs, poke them, hug them and just keep close to them. It was how you showed affection best and it made you feel calm, good.

Roman didn't like to be touched, especially not in public, nor did he like it when he was touched unprompted. He needed to initiate the touch or else he would break the fingers of whoever dared to lay their hand upon him. Zsasz, thus far, has been the only person, who was allowed to touch him on his own accord. With you, one more person was added to those who were granted the privilege of touching him like that. Although he had to reprimand you several times in the beginning, as you went a little overboard with it in public sometimes. As time went by, he got used to your touches. He even started missing them, when they weren't there, when you were in public and he could see you physically restraining yourself not to lay a hand on him. In all honesty, he enjoyed it when your hands were on him, gently rubbing, squeezing or even just laying there, unmoving. It was always such a soft, gentle pressure and warmth that made him feel content. Naturally, he couldn't show that in front of other people, so when you ended up having a hand on his thigh or arm in public settings, he acted like he didn't even notice it. He acted as if his heart didn't skip a beat and as if there wasn't a pleasant - yet, to him, still unfamiliar - heat unfurling in his stomach. He acted as if that simple touch didn't send electricity through his body, starting from the spot your hand laid on. When you were in the privacy of his loft, he would let himself enjoy your touches openly, reciprocating them even. One thing he especially loved, which was something so special with you only, was the set of long, twin scars under your pectorals. The scars that have mostly faded by now due to constant attention and treatment for them. They were also covered in a light dusting of chest hair, that he loved to run his hands through. Yet, he was the most fascinated by those twin scars, running his fingers over them, following the thickened scar tissue from one side to the other. To him, it couldn't be more beautiful. To him, it couldn't make you more perfect. His parents had always preached how important it was to have his outer appearance to be absolutely flawless because apparently that was the thing they needed to be concerned about the most. They pushed this ideal onto him and put him in a box he was still trying to get out of sometimes. So, seeing your scars was somewhat comforting to him. Just like with Zsasz, your scars had a purpose, a story; and they were magnificent to him. Just like in this moment, after you have had sex and taken a shower together afterwards, because God forbid, if Roman Sionis stayed sweaty and filthy from sex in bed any longer than was necessary. He was lying on his stomach, one arm propped up, so he could hold his head up with his hand. The other hand was busy stroking over your scars, as you lied on your back. Your head was tilted so you could look at him, a fond smile on your lips. One of your hands was at the back of his neck, gently rubbing circles in it. He smiled softly, feeling content. He could stay like this forever. "You really like them, huh?" You asked after a while, chuckling softly. He hummed, "I do. They are beautiful, my little prince." You averted your eyes, a bashful look and smile on your face. "Really? I often look at them and wish they weren't there at all, y'know? Anyone who sees them knows..." "Hush, that's not true. They aren't as prominent anymore as you think. Not only that, but it's also not anyone's fucking business. Then you have scars there. Now, what? Does it make you less of a man? No, it doesn't." "It doesn't," you whispered in time with him. Running his hand through your chest hair, gently, lovingly, he shifted to lean into you, so your faces were barely an inch apart anymore. "What other people might think or say about you doesn't matter. I know, I know, it's not like you can just turn that part of your brain off. I get it. You know I do. But you know I'm right. You know they don't fucking matter. They are fake fucking fucks." You both grinned at that, it was one of your favourite things of him to say. You sighed then, "I know, Roman. Thank you. I never really expected, well, any of this, to be honest." "What exactly?" He asked, genuinely curious about what you meant. You bit your lip, averting your eyes once more. "Just... having found someone who likes me for who I am. Having them reassure me and shut down my negative thoughts. Having them stand up for me when someone upsets me. Being able to sit here with them, in a quiet, honest and beautiful moment. To name a few things." By the end you looked at him again, though it took you some effort, due to your anxiety running wild with what you've just said. "Aw, baby, I'm actually fucking glad I can be all that for you. I've never been interested in relationships or other people for that matter. Sure, a quick fuck here and there is always nice and especially easy to get, but I despised everything deeper. For a long time, I felt incapable of it. Yet, here we fucking are, having a sentimental moment. Almost fucking unbelievable." He smirked, pinching your nipple teasingly when he was finished. Out of reflex you slapped his hand away from your nipple and chuckled. You quickly sobered up, though. "I mean it, Roman. When I say that I love you. I don't think I've ever felt this strongly for anyone else," you said sternly, intertwining your fingers with his on top of your chest. "I know, baby." He couldn't make himself say it. It always got stuck in his throat. No thanks to his parents, of course. You smiled at him, gently, and so full of love for him. He could practically see it in your eyes, just as it was written all over your face. Roman lifted your intertwined hands up and to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss on your knuckles. With a sigh, he closed his eyes. "You know I feel the same, right?" He asked reluctantly, quietly. "I do. And like I've said before; you don't have to say it back. Your actions speak far louder than words ever could." Grinning, he leaned in to close the little distance that has kept your lips from touching thus far, and pressed a kiss to your lips, which you reciprocated enthusiastically. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Roman felt completely content and at peace.  

[mythologyfolklore]

We're adopting you, sign the papers - introduction

(A/N: A modern AU for Arthurian mythology, where Arthur is a temporarily blind pop star, the Knights of the Table Round are his band, body guards and friends. Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot are in a romantically supportive polyamorous relationship (there are not enough threesomes out there). Morgan Le Fay doesn't dislike Arthur, she's just not so fond of Guinevere (doesn't hate her either, though). Mordred (Arthur's nephew, not his son) is a scarred teenager with abusive parents, who has a parental relationship with Arthur and Gwen. Also, Morgan and the Lady of the Lake are still Fae and Merlin is now one too, because why not, and Avalon exists. And Mordred is transgender. Deal with it.)

.

In a big mansion near the Welsh town of Newport, Lancelot was standing at the hearth, cooking and making tea for Arthur and Guinevere, who were out for groceries. No thanks to the Table Round, the previously stuffed fridge had gone empty within less than a week, so his two lovers had gone out to refill the supplies. And Arthur's half-sister Morgan was coming along to help, because there was going to be a LOT of stuff to be carried.

Lancelot silently prayed that Gwen and Morgan would not engage into a spat like they did almost EVERY TIME THEY WERE TOGETHER!!!

The water boiled and the Frenchman poured three separate cups, Darjeeling for Arthur, peppermint for Guinevere and coffee for himself. Also a glass of vodka for Morgan, because nothing cheered the crazy, headstrong Fae up like hard alcohol (she didn't get drunk easily either, so Lancelot wasn't too concerned).

Just as Lancelot had set the table in the living room, someone rang at the door. He frowned; there was no way they could be back so quickly.

“Coming!”, the brunet Frenchman called out, before setting down the tablet and going to answer the door. One the way he picked up his gun; one could never know if it wasn't some stalker here to creep on Arthur or Guinevere. Or him, for that matter.

But when he looked through the spyhole, he sighed in relief and opened the door to reveal a flaxen-haired teenage boy with silvery eyes, who was wearing an over-sized grey hoodie and worn-out jeans and looked like he had run the whole way here.

“Hello, Mordred”, he greeted kindly, but his smile vanished instantly, when he saw the kid's state: his face was flushed from running, he clearly couldn't breathe and was on the verge of passing out and his eyes were red and filled with grief.

“Hey … Lancelot”, he gasped hoarsely, “Is … uncle …?”

“Come inside first”, Lancelot said and supported the boy's weight with one arm. “Warm up and catch your breath, before you faint on me!”

Mordred was too out of breath to protest or agree. He just let the older man help him into the nearby kitchen, only to collapse before they even neared the table.

“Merde!¹”, Lancelot cursed and laid the teenager down on the floor.

“I'm really sorry for this”, he apologised, then stripped the younger of his hoodie and shirt, then undid the bandages around his chest (bandages! Why was the boy not wearing a binder?!), before administering first aid.

At last Mordred's eyes fluttered back open.

“What …”

“You fainted!”, Lancelot snapped – and instantly regretted it, when he saw the other wince. He sighed and continued more gently: “Pardon. I mean, you collapsed and fainted, because you couldn't breathe. Come on. I'll help you into the living room and you can lie down on the couch.”

Lancelot had to help him put his shirt back on, because Mordred was still a bit too out of it. Then he helped him into the living room and onto one of the couches, then folded the boy's hoodie and placed it on the table.

“Stay here and breathe deeply”, he told Mordred, “I'll be back.”

And hurried back into the kitchen, this time to make the other some hot chocolate, heat up the tea for Arthur and Guinevere and gather his own nerves and thoughts.

This was the third time this week that Mordred had run away from home. It was nothing uncommon (unfortunately) and often Mordred's older brother Agravaine would be with him, when things became too much at their parents' home.

Lot and Morgause Orkney led one mess of a family life. Lancelot didn't know details, but it had to be awful. When their eldest son Gawain had left home, he'd taken Gareth and Gaheris with him (they had been nine and seven at the time). But he hadn't been able to take Agravaine and Mordred with him too and neither had forgiven him for leaving them behind.

The two never specified, what happened at home.

Lancelot wished Mordred and Agravaine would trust them enough to tell, but to pressure the boys into doing so would do no good.

He sighed and returned back to the living room to bring the boy his hot chocolate.

Mordred smiled just a little bit, when he accepted the cup.

“Arthur is out shopping with your aunts Gwen and Morgan, they'll be back soon”, Lancelot informed the flaxen-haired boy, who nodded in acknowledgement.

“Until then”, the Frenchman continued and put a chair next to the couch, “you and I will have a little talk, jeune homme.²”

Mordred tensed up, clearly afraid. It made Lancelot's heart crack a little.

“Easy, mon cher³”, he cooed. “I'm not angry. It scared me a bit, when you suddenly dropped back there, but I'm not angry. I promise.”

Mordred relaxed and finished his hot chocolate.

“Still though. We need to talk about your bandages.”

“I …”

“Listen, I know you have … uhm, what's the English term for it?”

“Gender dysphoria?”, Mordred supplied.

“Oui! That! Anyway, I won't pretend to know how that feels like. I can imagine that your breasts make you uncomfortable, but … bandages?! Sacré, Mordred, mais á quoi pensais-tu?!⁴”

“… English please?”

Lancelot sighed in frustration; sometimes his brain refused to supply even the simplest English phrases or words, so he'd say it in French instead. He took a deep breath to sort his mind and remember the translation.

When it came to him, he tried again: “I said: Dammit, Mordred, jus what were you thinking?! Surely you must know that there are binders for that and you use bandages to flatten your chest?! That's dangerous! I have seen the scars where they cut into your flesh! They were so tight they cut off your air supply too! You're lucky I knew CPR, because an ambulance wouldn't have made it in time! You could have suffocated, Mordred! Are you aware of that?!”

The flaxen-haired boy let out a small whimper.

Lancelot sat next to him on the couch. Then he hugged the younger tightly and they both cried.

.

After they had calmed down, Lancelot gave Mordred a pack of tissues to wipe his face.

“I will make us both some tea”, he said. “Chamomile is good for the nerves and we need it. Do you want more hot chocolate?”

Mordred nodded, smiling. “Yes. And thank you, Lancelot. You're an amazing uncle.”

Lancelot couldn't help but grin like an idiot.

It was nothing new, that Mordred and his siblings called him “uncle”, but being reminded that he was seen as part of the family felt good every time.

At first the children of Morgause had been apprehensive towards this outsider. But after seeing his loving and functional relationship with their uncle and aunt-in-law and how genuinely he cared about them all like they were his own children, they had quickly warmed up to him. And before he had known it, he was part of the family. One day Mordred's oldest brother Gawain (who was only twelve years Lancelot's junior) had just strode up to Lancelot and declared, that he was their uncle now and there was nothing he could do about it. The younger four Orkney brothers had followed suit (it was one of the few things they all unanimously agreed upon) – to their uncle Arthur's great delight and their parents' chagrin.

Lancelot gave Mordred another brief hug and went to make more tea and chocolate.

With chagrin he noted, that his coffee and Arthur's and Guinevere's tea had got cold and he had to warm the latter two up for the second time (his coffee could stay cold, he didn't mind that). Oh well, at least the stew hadn't burned, while it had been left by itself.

As he came back into the living room, he saw that Mordred was reading one of his uncle's books.

“What are you reading?”

“A collection of poems by William Blake”, Mordred replied. “I want to get better at reading Braille, for uncle Arthur.”

“That's sweet of you. He'll appreciate it.”

Arthur had gone blind ten years prior and hired Lancelot for help. They had become friends quickly. But then Lancelot and Guinevere had fallen for each other, complicating things. After a year of secret and shameful pining, they had chosen to come clean in front of Arthur – both of them loving him too much to want to go behind his back. To their surprise he had taken it well, especially after Guinevere had assured him that she loved them both equally. That was how they had ended up in a polyamorous relationship. Along the way Merlin and Morgan had offered to magically restore his eyesight, but Arthur had made clear, that he didn't want to rely on their magic to fix everything. Instead he had adjusted to his blindness, acquired books in Braille and learned to read them. But he was going to have an eye surgery in a few months and hoped that soon he'd be able to see his wife again and “get to know Lancelot's colours”, as he'd put it.

Back to the story, Lancelot had just turned off the stove and Mordred had struggled through the Auguries of Innocence⁵, when they heard the front door open and close, two women's voices bickering and the next moment three people came into the room, each of them carrying two heavy, over-stuffed shopping bags.

First a tall woman with purple eyes and purple extensions in her long raven hair, clad in black from head to toe and with an air of mystery around her. That was Morgan Le Fay.

Then a petite woman with auburn hair and brown eyes, who was struggling with her bags. That was Guinevere.

And finally a stocky man with short flaxen hair (just like Mordred's), who evidently had no problem with the heavy bags, but clearly relied on the voices of the two women to orientate himself.

“We're back~”, Arthur announced.

Lancelot laughed: “Bienvenu⁶. I just finished dinner, so bring the stuff into the kitchen and sit down with us.”

Arthur immediately listened up. “Us?”, he echoed.

Now Mordred quietly spoke up: “Hello.”

The older man beamed: “Mordred! What a nice surprise! What are you doing here?”

“'Sup, nephew!”, Morgan said flatly, though her eyes betrayed her pleasant surprise.

Guinevere greeted the boy with a smile.

Mordred smiled weakly and waved back, but apparently didn't want to speak. So Lancelot waited, till they all had stored the food, then chose to brief Arthur on the situation: “He came about half an hour ago and looked like a complete mess, but he didn't tell me what the matter was, so I made him some hot chocolate.”

The boy only lowered his head, sighed and hid his face behind his long and messy flaxen hair.

Arthur stopped smiling, felt his way over to where his nephew's voice had come from and found him, carefully feeling down his arms and crouching down before him.

“What happened, Mordred?”, the blind man asked concerned, “You're so quiet. Who hurt you?”

Mordred mumbled something that sounded like: “My father.” Then he bit his lip, obviously trying to hold back a sob.

Now Morgan stepped forward, her brows furrowed, but her eyes soft with concern.

She knelt before him and asked him to show her his arms.

Lancelot wanted to object, as it was obvious that the teenage boy didn't want to do as she said, but there was no arguing with Morgan Le Fay.

Her nephew hesitated, before rolling up his sleeves, revealing direly bruised and scratched arms. Guinevere looked deeply disturbed and hurried to get a first aid kit to tend to the bruises and cuts.

Mordred winced, as his aunt-in-law applied the disinfectant to the sore wounds. Once she had finished cleaning them, she allowed Morgan to magically heal them.

“There”, the Fae said. “Can't do anything about the psychological hurt though, that's old man Merlin's thing. Shit, Mordred, what did your father do to you?!”

“I …”, the boy swallowed, “… he hit me with a chair. Kicked me some. Choked and punched me … called me things …” He trailed off.

“Does this happen a lot?”, Arthur questioned, frown increasing.

“… Yes.”

“And your mother doesn't intervene?”

“Never.” A sniffle. “She thinks it's right … that he disciplines us, my brother and me.”

“Where is Agravaine anyway?”

“He's staying over at one of his friends”, Mordred told his uncle. “I have to call him later and tell him I'm here.”

“The phone is all yours”, Arthur offered and his nephew mumbled a thank you.

Then Lancelot asked tentatively: “What about the cuts? Why did you do this to yourself?”

“…”

“Sweetie”, Guinevere spoke gently. “It's awful enough that your parents hurt you. Why do you feel like you have to hurt yourself too?”

“…”

Lancelot felt his heart crack.

He had known that it was bad, but he never would have imagined that it was this bad! What more happened at Mordred's “home”, that he was too ashamed and Agravaine too proud to mention? How long had they gone through this and none of the four adults here had known?!

Guinevere sighed sadly: “Why didn't you tell us sooner?”

“Because I … I …”

The rest was cut off by a whimper and Mordred curled in on himself, sobbing hysterically. Arthur embraced his nephew loosely, mindful of his state. Guinevere, Lancelot and Morgan made it a group hug.

They waited until he had calmed down, before letting go.

Arthur cleared his throat: “I think that's enough questions for today. Either way you're staying here, Mordred. I know you're not comfortable with hiding away here, but we're not letting you go back there. I will not stand for that. Not with how terrible people they are. One should expect that Morgause – my own sister! – would've had the common sense and decency to dump that scumbag and take you with her. But no, she just stands by and lets him hurt you and your brother in the worst ways possible. That's unforgivable. You deserve better, Mordred. I promise, you do.”

Mordred sighed shakily. Clearly he wasn't believing it.

Lancelot deduced, that the boy had been made to believe the opposite for pretty much his whole life, that his parents had drilled into him, that he was worthless, useless and whatnot. Agravaine likely had to deal with the same shit.

This was wrong, so terribly wrong.

Family was supposed to be a safe haven, loving, nurturing and supportive. Not … this.

The Frenchman felt his blood boil and it took a lot of self control not to show in Mordred's presence just how angered he was.

Instead he took a deep breath and stood back up. “It's dinner time. We're having stew. Later you can call your brother and we'll give you a room where you can sleep. You must be tired. We also should find you some spare clothes, since you had none with you.”

The boy shuffled awkwardly at the reminder, that he had run away from his parents' home without thinking to pack spare clothes.

“We'll worry about that later”, Arthur decided. “Personally, I'm starving!”

“As usual!”, Morgan scoffed.

“Oh shut up, you eat more than I do!”

“Hey, magic takes a lot of energy! I need to eat as much as possible to keep my magic and body functioning!”

“Excuses! You just don't want to admit, that you have a black hole for a stomach!”

“You take that back!”

“Never!”

Guinevere chuckled: “When you two are done, let's sit down and eat already, before dinner gets cold.”

.

Later, after Morgan had washed the dishes (meaning she had magicked them clean and levitated them back into the cupboards), Guinevere showed Mordred one of the guest rooms.

“One of your cousins was here for a visit last weekend”, she said and handed him pyjamas. “These are Yvain's. He's your age and currently at boarding school, so you can wear his spare clothes for now. You take a nice, relaxing bath and get some rest. Tomorrow we will get you new clothes. The ones you wear are atrocious.”

“And good binders”, Morgan added, “Lancelot told us about the bandages and you gotta stop. We'll find some binders that won't cut off your air supply at the slightest physical activity. What do you say?”

Mordred swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, smiling weakly.

“Sounds good”, he mumbled.

Guinevere smiled gently and gave him a hug, before handing him the phone. Then she and Morgan left to give him privacy, while he talked to his brother.

Mordred took a deep breath, before dialling Agravaine's mobile phone number.

A few anxious seconds later, a gravelly voice answered the phone: “Hi, uncle Artie. What's up?”

“Aggie, it's me.”

“Momo? What are you doing at uncle's place?”

“I …”

Three seconds of trying to come up with an answer were too long, apparently.

Agravaine started freaking out: “Mordred, what happened?! Are you okay!? Are you hurt?! Wait, of course you are, that's why you're at our uncle's place! Shit, answer me, what's wrong?!”

“Bro.”

“Are Artie, Gwen and Lance taking care of you? Are you in pain? Who hurt you?! I will fucking kill-”

“Agravaine!”

“What?!”

“Calm down. I ran away, but now I'm safe at our uncle's home. Our uncles and aunts fixed me up.”

Mordred heard Agravaine sigh: “Alright. But still, what happened?”

He was hesitant, but he also knew, that he couldn't lie to his older brother.

“Father happened. He got mad and beat me up.”

For a few seconds, there was silence.

Then: “He whaaaaat??? That's it, I'll murder him! … My friend here says he'd help me hide the body and get rid of the evidence.”

“Aggie, no! He isn't worth going prison for murder! And our uncles and aunts promised, that I won't have to go back there and neither will you. They'll sue him, Arthur said.”

“… Fiiine. Say hi to them from me.”

“Will do.”

“Love you, little bro.”

“Love you too. I'll get some rest. You and your friend have fun.”

“Thanks, bye. I'll come by tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye.”

Mordred hung up and went to return the phone.

He was looking forward to a warm bath and a good night's sleep.

.

-

.

1) "Merde" - French: "Shit!" 2) "jeune homme" - French: "young man" 3) "mon cher" - French: "My dear" 4) "Sacré ... mais á quoi pensais-tu?!" - French: "Damn it ... what were you thinking?!" 5) The Auguries of Innocence is a moralistic poem by William Blake that was published after his death. 6) "Bienvenu." - French: "Welcome."

A big thanks to @saemi-the-dreamer for her help with the French. <3

[cat-arsenal]

I posted 2,593 times in 2022

344 posts created (13%)

2,249 posts reblogged (87%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@asexual-levia-tan

@cottagecorexboy

@teddybasmanov

@cat-arsenal

@espressoth

I tagged 1,908 of my posts in 2022

Only 26% of my posts had no tags

#art - 465 posts

#redacted asmr - 407 posts

#video - 245 posts

#cool stuff - 172 posts

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#people - 140 posts

#mac! - 111 posts

#legendary - 107 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#'i suck at tech' because i do and i was editing my tumblr and getting frustrated so i deleted half the stuff and changed the title to that l

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Not to request something from my own list but if you’re interested: maybe the dialogue prompt “You don’t need to fit into anyone else’s ideas or expectations. You’re you and that’s perfect.” With Huxley :)

Transmasc Huxley x Transmasc Reader CW: Discussions of gender dysphoria, body image issues and anxiety, mentions of gender-affirming procedures

You open the door for Huxley, who greets you with a grin.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, Hux,” you say with a matching smile.  “Can we hug?”

“Hell yeah!  Bring it in.”  He hugs you, warm and tight and perfect.  “I love your hugs,” he sighs.  “You ready to head out?”

“Almost.  I just need to check my outfit one more time?”  He sobers a little.

“Of course, man.  Do what you need to do.”

“Thanks.”  He follows at a distance as you shuffle into your room, adjusting your clothes and hair in the mirror.  You’d felt good about everything earlier, but now it’s time to leave, you’re uncertain.  You pull your shirt down, fidget with the waist line, try to look like you’re just checking your outfit and not your entire body.  Do you need a haircut?  Do your shoulders look wide enough?  Hips too wide?  You smooth your hand over your chest fretfully, thoughts becoming dark and frayed--

“Hey.”  Huxley’s gentle voice cuts through the static, and you feel like you can breathe again.  “I can see you freaking out.  Do you wanna talk about it?”

You shrug helplessly.  “It’s the same old stuff.  Worried I look too femme.  Worried someone’s gonna know and maybe try to start something over it.”

Huxley approaches slowly, raises a hand carefully so you see him coming.  “Can I touch you?”  You nod, and he presses one of his big hands to your cheek, effectively holding your whole jaw.  “Listen to me, okay?  You don’t need to fit into anyone’s ideas or expectations.  You’re you and that’s perfect.”  He kisses your nose, smiling when you laugh.  “You look amazing.  And nobody’s gonna start anything while I’m with you.”

You press close to him, feeling his strong body, thinking of the times he’s been shirtless with you and let you touch him; let you feel his muscles, trace his scars, including the neat ones from top surgery; remember how he told you that his body and strength are for you.

Your ears are hot, tears pricking at your eyes when you kiss him.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

“I love you, too, babe.  We don’t have to go out, you know?  We can just hang here if you want.”

You smile, already feeling much better.  “No, I wanna go out.  I don’t always get the chance to show off a cute outfit and a cute boyfriend.”  He ducks his head, bashful but pleased.  “But maybe we can make it a short outing.  Come home early and cuddle, maybe?”

“Fuck yeah.”

52 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

#4

See the full post

55 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

#3

I’m fine. I’m fine and normal and definitely not playing Damien’s “yes! yes, yesyesyes” in my head on repeat I’m FINE

56 notes - Posted June 15, 2022

#2

Imperium!Lasko: (Huxley) is very good at what he does. In every regard...

Us: ...Y'all fuckin'?

58 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The way Lasko says “ohh” when Gavin calls him “good boy” like if you agree

163 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[queercapwriting]

No rush on this but I figured I'd send it in. I was wondering if you could write a trans/nb cuddle session featuring some of our favorite trans/nb superfan members like Alex, Carol, Adrien, winn, and Barry? Maybe featuring one of them having dysphoria struggles.

The moment they heard the vortex opening up in their living room, Alex grabbed a pillow and threw it. Hard.

“Wow, okay, I can see when I’m not wanted,” Barry said, clutching the pillow to his chest as he shook off the queasiness of a dimensional jump.

“Ha ha ha.”

“Seriously though, should I call Cisco and have him take me back? Or, should he send Iris instead of me? I don’t have to stay, Alex.”

“You’re the same as my sister, you know that? Alien and metahuman, sure, but also 100% puppy.”

Barry grinned. “You want some sushi? Be right back.”

Alex instinctively held down the book they’d been reading, and their phone, and their throw blanket - pretty much anything and everything in arm’s reach that Barry’s departure would jostle. 

He was back before they were finished securing everything.

“Okay, sushi! And I brought a friend!”

Winn’s hair was on end and his eyes were still wide. “So fast. Alex, he is so. Fast.”

“Missed you too, bud.”

Barry opened his arms wide, bags full of sushi dangling off his arms, and Winn stepped into them eagerly. Yeah, Barry was definitely, somehow, a wholesome kid. Once Alex had gotten over their desire to throttle him for taking their sister away without bringing Alex along to protect her, they’d come to like him quite a bit.

Plus, he always helped Alex help Winn when his dad was saying more messed up stuff. “Just because you’re a man too doesn’t make you like him,” Barry would tell Winn, over and over, the three of them curled up in Alex’s king-size bed. “You being trans doesn’t make you like your dad. It makes you like you.”

It helped, too, that Joe was so taken with Winn. “Like a white boy Cisco,” he’d laughed the first time Winn had teamed up with Team Flash. Having father figures that loved him well in multiple universes was helpful for Winn.

But Alex didn’t know what would be helpful for them tonight. Maybe nothing. Or maybe just… people.

Barry seemed to know - he always seemed to know, which was - to say the very least - annoying.

“Maggie and James are on their way with potstickers, and Kara’s flying Lena to Chicago right now for some deep dish.”

There was a rap on the window, followed by some loud, excited shouts.

“I’ve got some food from a planet named Chicago, does that count? Monica says it’s almost worthy of its earth name.”

Alex laughed as Carol Danvers nudged the window open with their foot, balancing a picnic basket of food in one arm and a whole human in the other.

“Hi Alex,” Adrian said, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Captain Marvel told me you guys have the same last name,” he said as he hugged Winn and immediately dove into Barry’s takeout bags. “I feel like you’ve gotta be long lost sibs, right?”

“I mean, anything’s possible right? Seventeen universes represented in this apartment tonight.”

“I count three, Allen, not quite seventeen,” Carol smirked. Barry pretended to glare. “But you did send that soft distress call. So, spill.”

Carol tilted their head at Barry. “You don’t have to pretend to be so chipper all the time you know, kid.”

Barry looked like he was going to answer back, but instead, he melted onto the couch next to Alex. They tossed a pillow at him again, but this time, for him to hold into his chest as he leaned into them.

Adrian curled up onto Alex’s other side, and Carol settled onto the floor with Winn. They both set to distributing food quietly to the others.

“I know I don’t. But I kind of do! If I don’t pretend to be chipper, I’ll feel it all. And that’s not… that’s not safe for anybody.”

“Cheers,” Alex muttered. But Carol and Adrian shook their heads.

“You’ve gotta feel it to use it, Barry. So? What are you feeling?”

“Pissed off.” Alex smiled. They didn’t hear Barry admitting to feeling upset too often - not outside those late-night double dates with him and Iris and them and Maggie, when it was suddenly 2am and they could all admit to anything and everything.

“You know, when I came out, it was like… I was this unstoppable being, you know? And for once, it had nothing to do with Iris, or Joe, or my dad, anyone else. Just, it was me. It was for me. Waking up from my top surgery, all those cliches of like, ‘oh, here I am,’ all of that was so, so true for me, it was so perfect. And I think I got used to it, to feeling that good. But I’m not unstoppable, right? I try to be. But I’m not. And sometimes it feels… worse. After it felt that good.”

“The post-gender euphoria dysphoria,” Adrian said with his mouth full of ginger.

“Yeah, that.”

Alex sighed and let their head drop onto Barry’s shoulder. Winn did the same on Carol, who passed Adrian all the ginger he could want.

“That’s like healing, though, right?” Winn said. “Like, when you’ve got a massive scab that’s starting to heal, it itches a lot. And that’s how you know it’s getting better. Right, Danvers, science?”

“Which Danvers?”

“I’m not the science Danvers, that’s you, Alex.”

“Yeah. It pains me, obviously, but Winn’s right.”

“Mark the time and places, lads and ladsies.”

“Oh my God.”

“No, seriously though. You have a higher standard for yourself now, Barry. For what you deserve and for how much love and attention you should give yourself. When stuff gets in the way of that now, it’s going to be a bigger contrast. That doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong.”

Alex rubbed at the back of Barry’s head, just once. He smiled. So did they.

“You’re doing it right, Barry. It’s not all going to be linear. And least, that’s what my therapist says.”

“Mine too.”

“Same.”

“Same.”

“Yeah, and mine’s from a different galaxy, and they still say it, so you know, we’re all got to be on to something.”

“Carol, how is your therapist from -”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve all got time.”

“And each other.”

“Awwwww, Alex!”

“Quote me on that and none of you will ever be allowed in this apartment again.”

Maggie’s key scraped the front door at the same moment as Kara and Lena flew in through the window. And, as if on cue, Cisco started up the portal again for Iris, Monica, and Maria to come through. With, of course, even more food.

None of their friends would quote them on it, but they didn’t have to (and really, Alex secretly wouldn’t have minded all that much if they had). Having each other was the most obvious thing about this little team, spanning so many universes in a single living room - and it was exactly why they all kept coming back home.

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Handsome, Handsome Man

Summary: There was a million reasons Virgil was ready to declare today a lost cause and sleep until there was no day left, and only one reason to not. But when the other reasons a very caring partner, even the biggest of issues quickly lost their edge. Content: Dysphoria, mentions of misgendering, swearing, transmale!Virgil, nonbinary!Deceit Pairing: Romantic Anxceit Notes: For @figurative-siren-song because dysphoria fucking sucks

~~

    On a list of ‘bad days’, Virgil was ready to put this one up amongst the pretty-fucking-bads. He had woken up with the tell-tale cramps of coming bloody and messy days and from there everything had spiraled. His hair was just barely getting shaggy and yet it was too long, his binder was on and yet it wasn’t doing nearly enough, and there was a voicemail from his mom that he knew was just going to be brimming with unapologetic misgenderings. He had been awake for five minutes and he was already ready to give up, call it a failed day, and sleep for the next twenty-four hours; maybe longer.

    He had achieved steps one and two quite well, in fact, and was halfway to seeing the third one through when his phone rang. He huffed as he unwrapped himself from half his blankets and found the current object of his frustrations.

    “What do you want?” He half-slurred, half-spit into the phone as soon as he took the call, not even glancing at the caller ID. He was fairly certain it was his mother, and he really, really wasn’t in the mood.

    “To talk to my boyfriend, if that’s not too much of a hassle.” The caller responded, and Virgil moaned as he recognized the voice.

    “Damnit, Dee, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

    “Don’t worry about it.” Damien responded, cutting Virgil off. “Bad day?”

    “Very bad. So, so fucking bad.” Virgil complained, falling back against his bed and pulling more of his sheets over his body, treasuring how blob-like and formless his chest looked with them piled on top of them. “Everything’s wrong, Dee. Every. Fucking. Thing.”

    “Do you want me to come over?”

    Yes. Virgil bit back on his actual answer. He did want Damien there, more than anything just wanted to curl up against his partner and let them comb through his hair and tell him he was handsome and let the world fade into nothing until the only thing left was him and Damien.

    But for as much as he wanted Damien there, he also knew they were busy- they had jobs to do and things to sort and- and other stuff that Virgil was sure was very important, more important than his momentary crisis of self. So, his actual answer aside, Virgil shook his head against his pillow and answered, “Nah, I’ll be fine. Just tired of this shit.”

    “Nice try, darling.” Damien replied almost immediately, making Virgil wonder if his pause of consideration gave him away before his words could. “But you can’t lie to a liar.”

    “I can try.” Virgil returned, only garnering a chuckle from Damien.

    “I’m coming over.” Damien told him, leaving no room for argument. “How much ice cream should I bring?”

    “One tub’ll be fine.”

    “Two tubs it is.” Damien responded. Virgil laughed at that, laughter dissolving into a small but soft smile.

    “Be here soon?” He asked, trying (and mostly failing) to not sound too whiny. Luckily, Damien didn’t seem to mind the inflection.

    “I’ll break every traffic law, just for you.”

    Virgil laughed. “You always do that.”

    “Yes, but this time, it’s for you.” Damien stressed, and Virgil didn’t need to see them to know they were smirking. “See you soon, handsome.”

    “See you soon.” Virgil echoed, pressing a hand against his already blooming smile at the petname even though there was no one there to see it. He tossed his phone aside as soon as Damien hung up, well aware he wouldn’t want to take any other calls that came through.

    It only took fifteen minutes for Damien to get there, and in that time Virgil had managed to complete his metamorphosis into a complete blanket lump, several layers of sheets tucked over his body and head, blocking out the rest of the world. Even at the sound of his front door and bedroom door opening, he didn’t free himself, only snuggling in further as chuckles rang out through the room.

    “Cuddle piles don’t work too well with only one member, you know.” Damien said, voice quiet but smooth as one of their hands ran over the top of the blanket lump that Virgil had become. “Though you do seem to be making a valiant effort to make the first completely antisocial cuddle pile.”

    “Warm blankets suffice.” Virgil mumbled. Damien laughed again, hand now coming up to rest somewhere against his shoulder.

    “Yes, but warm people work better.” Damien told him. “Now, can I see my dashing dapper boyfriend, or must I continue to converse with a blanket that is not nearly as attractive as him?”

    Virgil didn’t fulfill his request immediately, but that was mostly because he wanted to give his rising blush a moment to subside before facing them. Within a minute or too, he lowered the blanket covering his face, peeking out at his partner. His attempt to hide his blush, however, was apparently for naught if the smirk Damien greeted him with was anything to go by.

    “There he is.” Damien greeted warmly, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead, brushing aside his bangs as they did so. “My handsome, handsome man.”

    “And there you are.” Virgil replied, trying to sound more put together than he was feeling. “My lovely, lovely partner.”

    “You can’t turn this around on me, love.” Damien told him, just the faintest pink twinge rising in their cheeks. “Right now is about you.”

    Virgil huffed, but there was no heat in it. “Unfair.”

    “Very fair.” Damien rebuked. “Now, I guessed that the blanket pile was not in the mood for ice cream, but it’s in the freezer for when you do want it.”

    “Chocolate?”

    “No, I would’ve gotten my ailing boyfriend anything but his favorite ice cream in his time of need.” Damien replied, sarcasm thick in their voice, though their tone was teasing; not unkind.

    “You’re an awful partner.” Virgil told them, his sarcasm slightly more biting, but Damien understood it nonetheless.

    “Perhaps I am.” Damien told him, one of their hands moving to play with Virgil’s hair even as they spoke, looping it around their fingers and combing through it. “Though I suppose awful partners don’t cuddle with their charming boyfriends?”

    Virgil kneed Damien in the leg. “Don’t be an ass.” He said, attempting to glare as his partner did little more than laugh. “Either join the anti-social cuddle pile or get out.”

    “I don’t think that’s how anti-social things work, dearest.” Damien commented, though they were always raising up the blankets covering Virgil’s side and sliding onto the bed, pulling them over themself as they settled next to their boyfriend.

    “If you can make traffic law exceptions for me, I can make anti-social exceptions for you.” Virgil told them plainly, rolling on his side so that he could press up closer against Damien. “It’s only fair.”

    Damien shifted a bit so as to pull Virgil’s head into their lap, once more resuming their work at carding fingers through his hair, now occasionally scratching at his scalp as well. “I suppose.” They sighed in mock annoyance.

    Virgil smiled up at them for that, and after a moment of fake brooding, they smiled back, even sticking their tongue out to blep just the tiniest amount. Despite having many times experienced annoyance towards the action, saying it was too cutesy for their aesthetic, they were always more than happy to do it anyways when they knew only Virgil could see. Virgil loved the reminder of how close they truly were, and how much they trusted Virgil, and it always made him smile.

    Well, that, and because Damien really did look quite cute when they blepped.

    “I love you.” Virgil told them. It wasn’t really an impulse, since Virgil tended to be more reserved with how often he used those three little words, but in the moment it felt as if there was nothing else he possibly could say and nothing else he’d rather say.

    Damien’s smile softened into something more rare, something more adoring, as they leaned down to press another kiss against Virgil’s brow. “And I love you, my handsome, charming, dashing, dapper, masucline, manly boyfriend.”

    That was overkill, in Virgil’s opinion, and coming from anyone else it would have sounded sickeningly fake.

    But coming from Damien, as they played with Virgil’s hair and held him close and looked at him so sweetly, Virgil felt he had never heard anything truer. There was no doubt in his mind: he was a man. Maybe not the most stereotypical man, but a man nonetheless.

    And so long as his partner loved him for it, he was perfect.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas20 Day 11: Hybrid, once again

It’s so late and I’ve had a day of... futility, so I’m pulling out some Hybrid, which is just the biggest fic I’ve ever attempted and makes me feel slightly woozy. This is a selection of scenes I’ve worked on, with the first one following on from last year’s snippet, for context

A lot of this is set-up to how Alice actually becomes friends with the Cullens and the lead up to her relationship with Jasper. I also love Alice and Cynthia and their gay dads. A lot of this will be changed or rewritten for the Official Version, so I figure it deserves to be immortalised before I start my tear-down. 

Have a great day, I’m off to bed <3 

NSFW NSFW NSFW. (The most graphic section is marked, but there are implications dotted throughout. Use your best judgement.)

Trigger warnings for body dysphoria (minor)

(AU in which Alice is the daughter of a vampire-human hybrid, who was raised in an abusive home, and ends up in the care of her father and his husband in Forks. Hybrid biology is a little different - or rather, expanded - from canon. This was basically my attempt at expanding the Twilight universe beyond vampires and werewolves and examine the idea that humans are really the worst. At this point in the story, Alice has arrived in Forks, had a less than welcoming experience with the Cullen kids and met Dr Cullen in a professional capacity.)

--

It took me the best part of an hour to walk home from the Cullens. My head was still soupy, the Cullens’ home was outside of town, and I had no idea where I was going.

Oh, and it was dark.

And then I had to lie, and tell Dad and Simon some guy had mugged me, since they were freaking out. I had been gone two hours in an unfamiliar town, and had come home with blood on my clothes. Thank god, my hoodie managed to cover up most of the bandage on my neck.

They had promptly freaked out even more, and called the Chief of Police to report the incident I completely faked, whilst I went upstairs for a shower, peeling off the bandages to get a load of the wound. Angry black sutures ran from an inch or so below my ear, to where my neck joined my shoulder in an uneven line. It made me feel a little woozy, in all honesty. And it would be almost impossible to hide from everyone.  Maybe I could wear a scarf, and claim I wasn’t used to the cold?

And the bruise on my back was impressive, even for me. It was already darkening, and I had no doubt that it would only get worse overnight. An experimental jab to my ribs made the room spin, which made me want to cry. If there was one thing I hated more than anything on the planet, it was broken ribs.

I somehow managed to shower and change into a pair of loose pyjamas that covered all evidence of my injuries without blacking out. My head wouldn’t clear, and when Simon brought up something for me to eat, I could hear the slur in my voice. Dr Cullen must have drugged me.

It took forever for me to find a tolerable position in bed, and I ended up sleeping on my stomach, my arm cradling my ribs. My dreams – thankfully, just dreams – were soupy horror replays of Jasper’s attack; the scrape of his teeth, the tearing, the warmth of my own blood…

… how good it had felt.

When my alarm finally went off after what felt like an hour, I was sleep deprived, grumpy, and in complete agony. I could barely clamber out of bed. I wriggled out of my pajamas, and stared at myself in the mirror. The bruising covered my side was varying shades of black and blue, spread over my shoulder, ribs and back, down to the base of my spine and hip. There was a little swelling, but nothing really worth mentioning.

I ended up finding a button-up dress that I could get into with minimal discomfort, that covered up the bruises, and some of the stitches. Adding a sweater covered the rest up, and I spent nearly half an hour layering concealer and foundation over my pinched and pale face. I swallowed a handful of Advil to help the pain, before I limped downstairs.

Other than a quick reassurance that I was fine, Dad and Simon didn’t bring up last night’s ‘mugging’, and within an hour, I was limping awkward across the Forks High car park, in what felt like a new adventure in pain.

My ribs were probably fractured. God, I was kidding myself. They were definitely fractured. I just needed some decent pain-killer and medical tape, and I’d feel better. This wasn’t exactly a new experience, but it didn’t mean that they were any less uncomfortable, or I was any less miserable.

Luckily, everyone seemed to have lost interest in me as ‘the new girl’, so I limped through the halls without being stared at, or interrupted. Swinging open my locker, I gratefully shoved my bag inside – even carrying it by hand put too much weight on my back and ribs. I’d have to swap books after each class so I could carry them comfortably. Another cherry on top of my awful, hideous day.

Suddenly, there was another person beside me, staring intently. If my nerves weren’t already made of adamantium, I probably would have jumped or shrieked in surprised.

“Good morning,” Edward said.

“Morning,” I said, turning from digging through my books, trying to disguise the stiffness of my movements.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked politely, and I wanted to laugh at his slightly-creepy attempts at small talk. That isn’t a question you normally ask someone you just met, out of nowhere. Did they just not socialize with anyone who didn’t consider A Positive a main course?

“Sure.”

“You should sit with us at lunch,” Edward said in a flat tone, watching me with the sort of look my doctors had always used. It had unnerved me then, and it irritated me now; made me feel like an experiment all over again. If I hadn’t been wounded, I would have accepted the inevitable dislocated fingers and slapped him.

Dislocated fingers are easy to pop back into place.

“Can’t wait,” I said dismissively, mentally praising myself for taking the higher ground, and turned back to my locker, hoping Edward hadn’t noticed how awkwardly I was moving.

Edward watched me rifle through my locker before sighing and walking away, looking pained. I had to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at him, instead slamming my locker and shuffling to my first class.

--

Lunch was bad. I got a sandwich, and limped to the Cullens’ table, where they all stared as I sat. Quite frankly, every time I took a seat, the world around me swam before my eyes.

I took a seat at the end of the table, ignoring the glances that the Cullens were shooting me as I opened my soda, and unwrapped the sandwich.

“Is that for our benefit?” Rosalie asked boredly, nodding towards the sandwich, with a vague sneer of disgust on her face.

I shook my head. “Only for mine,” I said dully, studying my food. It hadn’t occurred to me that my lunch would smell terrible to them, only that I needed to eat so I could take some more painkiller. I hadn’t even really paid attention to their trays – I could see now that they were dotted with cans of soda, fruit, and packaged snacks. Nothing that would smell especially offensive to them – Mom had once told me that it was the preservatives and ingredients mixed together that were the worst to vampire sense; that, and that they could smell decay much faster than humans.

Lunch passed slowly – Edward and Bella chatted quietly, and every so often one of the other Cullens would make a comment, but mostly we sat in silence. I picked at my lunch, and felt my back throb in pain, before the bell finally rung, and they all moved to collect their trays and bags.

I was irritated – why invite me to eat at their table for lunch, when it had been awkward, uncomfortable, and no one had talked?

Whatever. I struggled to my feet and silently left, pausing only to dump my tray, and headed to the library to hide out until the end of the day.

//

Bella was staring at me as I changed out of my gym clothes, the two of us the last ones in the locker room.

“Is that where Jasper…?” she asked as I tugged my shirt on, my jacket following. My back was a rainbow of black, purple and green; so bad that I’d been forced to wear dark colours – you could see the marks through lighter-coloured fabric.

“Uh huh,” I said. “Brick wall, meet spine.”

“They’re pretty worried about you,” Bella said as I carefully shouldered my bag. “Carlisle and Esme want to see you again.”

“They don’t have to worry about me,” I shrugged and winced, regretting the movement. So, I didn’t quite have my full-range of movement back just yet. “I’m fine.”

Bella watched as I gathered my stuff. “They still need an explanation.”

“They’ll be waiting awhile – they clearly told you everything,” I said flatly. It was unspoken, but they clearly expected me not to say anything about them and their secrets, yet they were blabbing my secrets around.  

“You owe it to them, you know everything,” she informed me snootily.

I whipped around, enough for the pain in my back to flare hotly, which just made me madder. “I owe them nothing,” I snapped at her. “They clearly can’t keep their mouths shut when they don’t know anything, so why would I tell them more? And don’t sit there, all high-and-mighty, Bella Swan. You know nothing.”

And I stormed off.

--

Bella clearly ran and tattled on me to Edward, because after school, I saw the Cullens glaring at me as I walked towards the bus. Well, Edward was giving me Death Glares

//

Dr Cullen finally cornered me for a physical, telling Simon to bring me over on Saturday morning. I nearly threw a fit, even though my dreams the night before had made it clear that I wouldn’t be getting out of it easily.

My dreams about Jasper were getting more and more vivid, and the idea of physical contact was so unbearable, I was jumping and flinching when Simon and Dad were getting too close to me. Which was a problem, since Simon was a hugger.

I was sick to my stomach when Simon took me over, clutching the smoothie he’d made me for breakfast. I was wearing loose yoga pants and a t shirt under a sweatshirt to keep everything covered.

Dr Cullen hissed as he saw me in my underwear – the webbing over my chest, the bites on my throat and arms, the angry scar at the back of my left leg, the angry marks on my rib cages.

“What on earth happened to you, Alice?” he asked.

“Hard life,” I shrugged, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can we get this over with?”

“Of course,” Dr Cullen nodded.

—

More than one morning, I’d woken up from my dreams about Jasper with my hand between my legs, sweaty and panting and absolutely ashamed – even sick to my stomach.

All of the Cullen children had made it clear I was their friend out of necessity, rather than interest, and that Rose and Edward barely tolerated me. The idea of a genuine friendship with Jasper was a pipe-dream, let alone an opportunity to recreate my dreams.

Even as my inner-voice pointed out that they weren’t dreams.

And besides, sex was something that was not a good idea. At all. I wasn’t a virgin and I hadn’t been in years. I still had terrors and flashbacks to those terrible, monstrous experiences, I couldn’t imagine it being good, let alone as pleasurable as my brain claimed it would be. In the harsh light of day, I didn’t want anybody touching me.

And who would even want to, with my skinny, scarred body. The curves I had were easily hidden by my clothing.  Short hair. Sour disposition. I’d be alone forever.

It was raining, which suited my mood perfectly when I arrived at school. With the Cullens’ tentative acceptance of me, at least at lunch, I had isolated myself even more from the rest of the student body.

There had been entire days when answering roll call and greeting the Cullens at lunch where the only words I spoke. My personal best was eight words.

I drifted from class to class, finally getting to the cafeteria and claiming my lunch. A soda, an apple and a brownie – there was no way I was going to even pretend to eat the runny tuna salad or the luminous orange mac and cheese.

I hadn’t said anything to Dr Cullen, but I knew my physiology was not coping with my current diet. I was tired and sluggish, eating just two meals a day. In the hospital, I’d had free access to as much milk and as many snacks as I needed. Now, I had to pretend I was normal, and was failing kind of badly, since Simon found the amount of food I packed away at meal times ridiculous.

“Hey,” Emmett nodded at me as I arrived at the table.

“Hey,” I said, taking a seat next to Bella, and opened my soda, and pulled my homework out.

It was the most painless way to fill in the lunch hour – reading was rude, and no one wanted to talk. So, schoolwork.

“You going to eat that?” Rosalie interrupted me.

I looked up. I’d drunk half the soda – revolting diet raspberry had been the only flavor left – and picked at the brownie over the half an hour, but none of it held any interest.

“Probably not,” I said, turning back to my math homework.

“You should.”

Why was Rosalie still talking to me?

“It’s pretty gross,” I said, not looking up. “I’ll eat at home.”

“Bella eats it,” Rosalie said, gesturing at Bella’s empty tray.

“Rosalie,” Edward scowled, as Bella blushed prettily at being the center of attention.

“Bella clearly has a less discerning palate,” I said, closing my books and standing up. “If it’s so important to you, you can eat it, Rosalie.”

And I flounced off.

//

For some unholy reason, Simon and Dad had decided to have a pre-Thanksgiving cocktail party for their co-workers and friends. I stayed out of the planning and decorating, spending my time buried in my homework and ignoring everything around me.

Why Simon decided to invite the entire Cullen clan and Bella and her father, I have no idea. Maybe some misguided attempt to help me socialize. God, I hoped not.

But that meant, the afternoon before Thanksgiving I put on one of the dresses Simon had bought me – with tights – and went downstairs to help set up.

The Cullen kids seemed less than enthused to see me, though Edward was clearly pleased to see Bella.

“I’d apologise, but it wasn’t my idea,” I said as I walked past Emmett and Rosalie with a tray of glasses.

“This will be fun,” Emmett said cheerfully. “We never get to see humans in their natural habitat.”

—

Jasper found me sitting in the kitchen, staring out at the backyard.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” I replied, standing up. “Do you need something?”

“No. It just gets a bit much, so many people in one place, with alcohol. Overwhelming,” he shrugged.

“I get it,” I said. “I mean, I can’t imagine what it’s like for your gift. But I get being overwhelmed.”

He offered me a crooked smile. I smiled shyly back, and began stacking dirty glasses. What to say?

“Carlisle is worried about you.”

Apparently, the topic at hand was me.

“He shouldn’t,” I said, as I began to pack the dishwasher. “I’m okay.”

“Esme too – she’s desperate for you to come over to our place so she can attempt to mother you to death,” he continued.

I thought of Mrs Cullen almost longingly for a moment – how sweet and kind she was. Nothing like Mom – Mom had never been warm and fuzzy. Mrs Cullen seemed like she’d be a good mom.

“She’s sweet, but I’m okay, really.”

“Don’t lie to an empath, Alice. I know exactly how you feel.” The ghost of a smirk played at his mouth and I turned to finish gathering up dirty cutlery.

“So how do I feel?” I asked, looking over my shoulder.

Jasper met my gaze. “Like starlight – bright and beautiful, but distant. There’s sadness and longing, ferocity and loyalty, all hidden behind a very tall wall.”

//

Within fifteen minutes, I was being pressed into the couch, with the delicious weight of Jasper on top of me. Somehow, I was down to my tank top, and I was nearly positive the first few buttons of my jeans had been undone. Jasper’s mouth moved down my jaw, to my throat, and I sighed in delight. My hands slipped down, fumbling to get underneath. As my fingers grazed the hard flesh of his stomach, I heard him moan against my throat and I smiled.

“We should stop,” he murmured in my ear.

“Why?” I asked, choosing that moment to shift, aligning our hips, and hitching my knees up. He groaned, pressing me even harder into the couch, one hand tangling in my hair as he pulled me into a scorching kiss.

The sound of the back door opening was very distant, and it didn’t register properly until Simon’s cheerful voice broke the moment.

“Having some good, wholesome fun, kids?” he said.

Jasper only just barely managed to climb off me at human speed, and I half fell off the couch.

Simon was standing there, clutching a bag of groceries, looking amused. Cynthia was standing beside him, her jaw on the floor. Mostly likely because one of the famous Cullens was in her house, making out with her sister.

--

When Dad roped me into helping with the washing up, I knew he and Simon were going to corner me. And they did.

“Alice,” Dad said carefully, as I started wrapping up the leftovers. “Simon told me about how he found you and Jasper Hale this afternoon, and we wanted to chat with you.”

“It won’t happen again,” I said, my eyes firmly on the bowl of leftover couscous.

“That’s not what we’re worried about, sweetheart,” Simon said. “Though, yes, we might need to make some rules about boys in the house. But Alice… how long have you known this boy?”

I frowned, and looked over my shoulder. How did I explain that I knew Jasper, had known him for years? That with our gifts, the second we had met, this had been inevitable.

“Since I met him at school,” I said carefully. “It kind of happened.”

“You’re smart, Alice, and … we’re only saying this because we love you and we don’t want you to get hurt. But it’s only be a couple of weeks, and what I saw this afternoon looked very serious,” Simon continued, giving my father a Look.

“Honey, with the horrible things that happened to you, we just don’t want you to rush into sex and a physical relationship,” Dad finished. “Sometimes it can seem like it might make the hurt and the fear go away, but it doesn’t if you rush into it.”

Oh god. This was horrifying. “Jasper and I weren’t… we aren’t…” I managed, before taking a deep breath. “We aren’t having sex. We aren’t planning on sex yet. He knows I have issues.”

Simon and Dad exchanged looks. “Okay,” Dad said finally

//

NSFW

//

I was trembling slightly as Jasper settled between my thighs, kissing me softly. I was aware of everything – my nudity, Jasper’s nudity, the scent of flowers and fabric softener from my bedding. The coil of warmth in my lower stomach, the circles Jasper was gently tracing on my hip.

“How are you feeling?” he murmured. I could feel him, cool and impossibly hard against my thigh, and I let out a shuddering breath.

“I’m okay,” I managed. “Just nervous. It’s going to hurt.”

“Oh darlin’,” he pressed a kiss to my lips. “If it hurts, I’ll stop. If you want me to, I’ll stop.”

I nodded. “Can you help me a little?” I whispered. “Just a little.”

“If you’re sure?” he said and I nodded. He kissed me deeply, one hand sliding down my thigh to guide my leg around his waist. The warmth in my stomach spread, and the fear seemed to fade. I found myself rocking against him slightly, making indecent sounds.

It didn’t hurt too badly; not like the other times, but I didn’t want to think about those. Proportionately, it was always going to be slightly awkward and uncomfortable the first time around. I knew it would get better, I had seen how good at this we’d become.

That thought just made me press closer to him.

“You’re so warm,” he groaned in my ear, kissing a trail to my neck. I gripped his shoulders, smirking to myself as he began to lick and suck at the juncture of my neck; a vampire with a neck fetish.

//

As I came back down to earth, panting and loose-limbed, Jasper moved about me, carefully but more erratically than before, his eyes darkening to pitch black. And without warning, he flung himself away from me, standing halfway across the room in less than a second.

“I need a moment,” he rasped, panting, his gaze firmly on me. Fuck. He looked like a god, standing there, his blackened gaze firmly on me. I wasn’t sure if it was his gift, the way he looked, but the warmth was building in my stomach again.

//

My mother always talked about vampire mating practices, and made it sound monstrous. Brutal sex, a violent bite to mark each other, and the bond settling over you, like invisible manacles. Cold and vicious, it was meant to be the ultimate unbreakable claim.  

In reality, it was nothing like that; his fingers stroking me, his arm around my waist, and then his mouth on my breast, his teeth biting down as I came apart in his arms, and then the soft lap of his tongue as he closed the wound.

//

Jasper slipped out before dawn with a deep kiss that I felt in my toes, his gaze glued to the throw I had hastily wrapped around myself, so that the neighbours wouldn’t catch me hanging out of my window naked.

“Dad and Simon won’t be home for hours,” I murmured as I leant in for another kiss. “Stay.”

“Alice,” he groaned, nuzzling my cheek. “Don’t tempt me. You need some sleep – and if I stay, there won’t be any sleep. I’ll see you later.”

I scowled but nodded, kissing him one last time. “Go.”

He jumped from my window, and I turned around. I needed clean sheets, a shower, and some sleep.

I just couldn’t stop smiling.

Jasper’s bite stood out on the side of my left breast, raised and pink, though it was already healing. It would fade into my skin over the next day, little more than a shadow against my skin until I touched it and felt the ridges of his teeth-marks. Finally, a bite mark that didn’t make me feel disfigured, or one that would be awkward to cover up. The memory of his teeth in my skin made me shiver; how his teeth were so sharp that it didn’t hurt, and his soft growling purrs, as he licked the wound; the slight sting of the vemon, his lips and fingers grazing the closed wound with such gentle love…

I tumbled back into my bed, with clean sheets and wet hair. I did feel different. I felt peaceful, secure, and loved. I felt human for the first time in a long time.

And I slept without nightmares.

I dreamt, as well, of Jasper getting home and Emmett’s whoop of amusement, and subsequent teasing. Of Edward losing his shit over the idea of a vampire having sex with a human. Of Carlisle being vaguely concerned, Esme looking amused, and Rosalie pissed off that they’d acquired another human pet. She’d be even more of a delight after this, I knew it.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” I jerked awake to Simon knocking on my door.

//

[jenniferdiazisatransgirl]

My Journey

Hey everyone, As you will likely know by now I am a trans woman and I live in the UK where lately trans people have been under significant scrutiny by the press, government and groups claiming to be acting in the name of feminism.

One of the arguments used when not directly attacking trans people, is that the medical institutions that help us in the UK fast track us through transition, even the NHS and I know so many trans people in this country that I can say without a shadow of a doubt this is not true. This includes a significant number who have been under the care of Tavistock and Portman, the under 18s service which was recently banned from giving its patients hormone blockers without the approval of the courts.

But anyway, I’m gonna share my story and how lengthy the process actually is and I will warn ahead of time this deals with suicidal ideation, gatekeeping, mental health, etc. So proceed with caution. This will also be a long post.

September/October 2008

I can’t remember which month but it was just before my 16th birthday, my Dad encouraged me to go to my GP regarding my gender dysphoria. I lived with my transphobic Mum at the time and had to go behind her back which was terrifying to say the least. I saw a doctor called Dr Moulsher and explained everything I was going through and his response was, “I don’t think the NHS funds any of this.” He was very ignorant on trans issues but it actually fortunately worked out in my favour, I got lucky, I know, but he just wanted me off of his hands.

I explained in Sheffield there was a GIC (gender identity clinic) operated by the NHS known as Porterbrook and he was just like, “Oh right. Well I’m more than happy to refer you but they likely won’t see you till you are 18.”

He asked me some questions, wrote up a detailed report and put in the referral to “get the ball rolling” as he worded it.

I was terrified at the time of the referral letter going to my home address though and he was like, “Well it needs to be sent somewhere.” So he agreed to send it to my grandparents address.

Later That Year

About a month or so later a letter arrived at my grandparents saying I had been accepted onto Porterbrook’s waiting list, explaining it is substantially long, that they wouldn’t be able to see me till I’m 18, etc. Your typical boiler plate stuff. Also as I understand it they don’t typical accept referrals for under 18s so I got lucky there. I remember getting so excited when I got my letter though, that I took it into school to show all of my friends.

Back then it was a requirement that I have a mental health assessment while on the waiting list though. So I returned to Dr Moulsher who I had become rather comfortable with and had made him my regular GP. He made a referral to the local mental health clinic and that was that.

January/February 2009

A letter came in the post asking me to ring to book at appointment at the local mental health clinic. I couldn’t ring from home cos my Mum would overhear and she was spying on me a lot at the time due to really being against the fact I’m trans. My school - which was a Catholic school shockingly enough - had already decided my home environment had become so toxic that I needed removing from my Mum’s care. They would be a process that wouldn’t be completed till June 2010 but yeah, it had got that bad. Anyway, I ended up asking the school receptionist if I could ring on their phone to book the appointment. That was booked for February.

The appointment was a weird one to say the least. The doctor asked me a quite a lot of questions but these are the ones that stuck out.

So with this first one, I am going to preface with that as far as I am aware, I am white and of white ancestry for all the generations I know of. However I do have remarkably curly hair that left to its own devices grows into an afro (or at least what looks like an afro). So the first set of questions that stood out; Dr: What’s your mother’s ethnicity? Me: White British.

Dr: Sorry, did you say Afro-Caribbean? Me: No. White British. Dr: And your father’s ethnicity? Me: White British. Dr: Sorry, was that Afro-Caribbean?

Me: Nope. White British.

Not really sure how you can get Afro-Caribbean and White British verbally mixed up but he seemed very adamant at least one of my parents must be Afro-Caribbean.

He then later goes;

Dr: Do you have a partner?

Me: Yes.

Dr: Are they male or female?

Me: I have a girlfriend.

Dr: Then you can’t be trans. You can’t be trans if you like girls.

Me: What about lesbians?

Dr: That’s beside the point.

Shockingly, in the end he agreed with my GP’s assessment that I am trans but Jesus, as you can probably guess from above that mental health assessment was a minefield of weird.

24th October 2010

In June 2010, I was finally removed from my Mum’s care at the age of 17 and placed in supported housing and on the date about I got a phone call from Porterbrook GIC on my 18th birthday no less, inviting me to my first appointment in November.

22nd June 2012

I legally changed my name and title by deed poll to Miss Lily Nichole Robinson.

22nd October 2012

I’d now been at Porterbrook for almost 2 years, had lots of appointments, most of which repeated the same mundane questions and it had started to feel like nothing was ever going to change. I had become increasingly depressed and suicidal and I had decided that if nothing had changed by my 20th birthday I was going to take my own life. I did not want to enter my 20s still living my life as a man. I didn’t want to lose another year of my life.

I remember this date exactly, not because I marked it in my calendar but because Taylor Swift’s album “Red” came out that morning. Despite everything, I was dancing along to 22 that morning while ironing some clothes, before I headed off to Porterbrook. I didn’t really feel like it mattered, I was going to kill myself 2 days later but I figured what is the harm in going through the motions one last time.

I sat there, trying not to let on how miserable I was, didn’t see the point in letting them in on how I was feeling. Nothing would change.

I remember being asked some really gross questions that day though. I got asked if I masturbated and I just declined answering. When challenged I was just like, “I maybe trans and I may hate that equipment but I’m a human being. I still have sexual urges. What do you think the answer is.”

The appointment though, shockingly ended with them telling me they were going to put me on hormones. I was gonna get my estrogen. It was enough to give me a reason to keep on living.

But just bare in mind how close I got to taking my own life there. 2 days away from my 20th birthday. Also it took almost 2 years for them to say they’d be placing me on hormones.

January/February 2013

In January, I had my bloods taken to get a baseline and I was told about options for storing gametes. I did decide to consider this but in the end it ended up being too costly for me at the time. So in February, on a day it was snowing I got the train and was adamant the snow was not stopping me getting to Porterbrook and I had an appointment with the head clinician, Dr Kevin Wylie.

He oddly listed all the testosterone blocker options to me with side effects and risks and all the estradiol options to me with side effects and risks. In the end I chose Cyproterone Acetate for my blocker and Estradiol Valerate pills for my hormones.

50mg per day of Cyproterone Acetate and 2mg per day of Estradiol Valerate. I was ecstatic and took them both the second I got on the bus 😊

May 2013

Slightly unrelated to the medical process but just 3 months in and my mental health had improved drastically. Since I was removed from my Mum’s care I had become a bit of a shut in. I didn’t have any friends, my anxiety was through the roof, I was insanely depressed and I just avoided everything and everyone, only leaving my house for work. Hormones changed that though, I just felt so much happier and I also remember that Spring just being like really vividly aware of the colours of all the flowers and plant life for like the first time in my life. I actually wanted to go out and social and make friends and there was a local LGBT youth group for 18-25 year olds that I decided to join and I started to have and social life again. And by September 2013 I started university and soon came getting drunk with the LGBT Liberation Group at the various socials. I was happy and finally starting to feel like myself.

2013 - 2016

Porterbrook became very gatekeepy in the final stage of my transition. They didn’t like how I dressed. Apparently girls wear dresses while I preferred jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. I didn’t like wearing make-up. I wasn’t the 1950s image of a girl that Porterbrook seemed to expect. I actually have a trans guy friend who around the same time had been told he couldn’t start on testosterone unless he cut his hair short, cos apparently men don’t have long hair.

It pissed me off to no end because I transitioned to be me, not to be a performance of how the world thinks a woman should be. I refused to give ground on how I dressed, etc but in the end I ended up telling a few white lies to get past the final level of gatekeeping. And I can’t remember most of this dates as they happened while uni was going on in the background. But eventually Porterbrook gave me the go ahead for surgery, about 6 months later I had my second opinion and then I was referred for surgery.

January 2016

I had my pre-surgery assessment at Nuffield Health Brighton and I was told if I wanted I could have my surgery as early as March 2016. Due to university though, this proved a bit too soon and the date was pushed to June 2016.

22nd June 2016

The day before the EU Referendum I had my gender reassignment surgery. I don’t actually remember feeling all that ecstatic after the surgery. There was lot of pain and I was on a lot of drugs. But a friend, Rosie, who I hadn’t seen since high school lived in the area and she was at my bedside when I woke up. I was in hospital a week and had 3 months of recovery ahead of me.

Post Surgery 2016

Having surgery had been great, things finally felt right. My entire body felt right for once but I had tunnel visioned my life towards surgery and put a lot of stuff on the back burner and had some major post-surgery depression so I sort counselling at my university to get through these issues and once that was sorted I felt a lot more stable in myself and like nothing was in my way.

October 2016

I put in my application for my Gender Recognition Certificate only for it to get rejected because they did not like the assessment from Porterbrook GIC and Dr Wylie who wrote the assessments was off on leave. Me and a nurse had to sit down and look through my medical record to find a medical report they might accept and we finally found one. However they wouldn’t say what was wrong with the original which made Porterbrook kinda stumped on what was wrong.

February 2017

I received my Gender Recognition Certificate and my new Birth Certificate.

March 2017

I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC.

For those who are under the impression gender reassignment is a fast process it isn’t, it took me 8 years and 6 months start to finish, from initially seeing my GP at 15 to finally being discharged from Porterbrook GIC at the age of 24. It is a long ass process with a shit tone of gatekeeping and honestly going through the process as it stands isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. When I was discharged from Porterbrook GIC in 2017 my first thought was, “I’m free. I’m finally in control of my own life.” As up until that point, I felt I had no autonomy and that my life and happiness was in the hands of doctors. It was miserable.

But there it is.

[bakamoonshine]

A Surprise Encounter

(reposting in a different format!)

Summary: Trans male reader is experiencing gender dysphoria, and Draco comforts them. (D/N is deadname in this fic)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Dysphoria, potential transphobia, a little slut-shaming?, OOC, swearing, a little bit of fluff at the end

A/N: I tried my best for you @vampirthedarkone, but as I am not a trans man, I don’t have exactly the right perspective for this one! I hope I did it justice and you enjoy this fic, even if it’s not 100% accurate. I’m sorry if anything I included is explicitly wrong! Xx 

 Y/N’s POV

           “Psst, Y/n,” Draco pokes me in the side, trying to get my attention in the middle of Transfiguration class. I shake my head and look at him, realizing I had been daydreaming.

           “What?” I respond, eyes wide in concern that something had happened while I wasn’t paying attention. Draco shrugs at me.

           “I saw that you weren’t paying attention, and I know that you struggle in this subject. Just wanted to make sure you get all the notes down,” he smiles at me, nodding his head toward my blank parchment. “Also, if you need some help, I’d be more than happy. Meet at the library after dinner?” Draco looked at me earnestly, his icy grey eyes looking bright with anticipation. My mouth went dry suddenly, nervous. I had never anticipated Draco Malfoy showing any interest in being friends with me, but now here he was offering to tutor me in Transfiguration.

           “Did McGonagall put you up to this?” I ask, raising one of my eyebrows. Draco just smirks and lets out a small chuckle.

           “No. Let’s just say I think we have a common interest in one another,” he winks at me, picking up his quill and directing his attention back to the front of the room. I find myself nodding, agreeing to meet him at the library that evening even though he wasn’t looking at me anymore. Nobody knew this, but Draco always had me transfixed – his beautiful white-blonde locks, his storm grey eyes, and the rings that adorned his fingers were just little details that I couldn’t help but notice every time my eyes passed over him. I had assumed he would never be interested in me because well…I’m a guy. Draco Malfoy has never struck me as anything other than strictly heterosexual – but maybe I’m wrong. The insinuation behind his words led me to believe that maybe he did want more.

           I start to pack up my supplies, have daydreamed the rest of class instead of paying attention, and accidentally drop my quill while packing. I reach to pick up the feathered pen, but before I can get to it, my quill is smashed to pieces by someone’s foot coming down on it, hard. I look up to see Pansy Parkinson, my ex-roommate, smiling down at me, the smile stretching across her face so taught that I couldn’t help but wonder if she was okay.

           “What do you want, Daffodil?” I sigh up at her, not in the mood for her games. I had moved out of our dorm when I transitioned and found her unsupportive nature loathsome and trite. I’d had enough of her treatment to know that although she didn’t bother me much anymore, words can still hurt. She smoothed down her shirt and shot me a glare.

           “Oh, D/N. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t planning on trying anything with Draco. We’re practically dating at this point, and I don’t want any half-blood sluts messing that up for me.” She smiled at me again, a sickly smile that made me want to vomit.

           “Pansy, everybody knows that Malfoy despises you. Also, my name is Y/N, and I’d appreciate it if you called me that like everybody else. You know the rules, Dumbledore bound you to secrecy so you can’t out me before I’m ready.” ‘Not like it’s some huge secret anymore, but it should still be my decision when I choose to explicitly tell everybody’ I think to myself. I smack her shin, making her move her foot off of my broken quill, and pick it up. I grab the rest of my supplies, and get up, leaving Pansy alone in the Transfiguration classroom, steam practically rising off her cheeks they were so red with anger.

           As I walk toward the Slytherin common room, I start to feel the familiar feeling just under my skin, like an un-scratchable itch coursing through my body – dysphoria. Pansy doesn’t get on my nerves like she used to when I first moved dorms, but she still has a way of making me feel low. I push the feelings down, determined to make it through the rest of the day, and drop my bag in my dormitory before going down to the Great Hall for some supper. I make my way through the aisles towards my friends sitting at the Slytherin table. I sit down and huff, starting to tell them about my encounters with Draco and Pansy, noticing while I talk that Draco’s eyes never leave me. I finish talking, digging into my food, and eventually finishing my dinner completely. I stand up to leave, waving goodbye to my friends, and start to walk out of the Great Hall and back towards the Slytherin common room. I just made it out of the Great Hall when I hear footsteps swiftly behind me. I turn my head to see who it is, a little surprised when I find Draco following me out of the hall.

           “Do you mind if I walk with you Y/N?” he asks, eyebrows knit together in a look of questioning hope. I nod my head, turning silently and starting to walk again. The blonde boy next to me sighs in content, seeming happy that I said yes. “You know…we don’t have to study tonight if you don’t want to.” I stop again, looking at him with wide eyes.

           “Do you not want to?” I ask him, internally cringing and waiting for his answer to be no. My anxiety is rising by the second, and I can feel my cheeks heating up.

           “Of course, I want to, Y/N, I just didn’t know if maybe you wanted to do something less…school related? We could go down to the kitchens and find some kind of dessert, or we could-” I cut him off with a swift wave of my hand.

           “Draco, are you asking me on a date?” His grey eyes snap to mine, mischief in them.

           “Would you say yes if I was?” He takes a step towards me, and I suck in a breath.

           “Maybe” I say devilishly, smirk playing across my lips. “But you do realize I paid absolutely no attention in Transfiguration and have no hope of passing the exam next week, right? I could actually use the help.” Draco laughed, gesturing towards the ever-changing staircases we were stood beside.

           “Well then lead the way to the dorm, I need to grab my stuff to teach you everything you need to know.” Before I can even take half a step towards the dorm, Pansy emerges from the corridor we had just left.

           “Dray, you promised me we’d study together tonight. Why are you with D/N?” I felt myself cringe at the use of my deadname, praying that Draco didn’t notice. He scoffed, obviously irritated by her intrusion.

           “You came up with that plan, and I immediately said no. Don’t pretend like you heard otherwise. I’m hanging out with Y/N tonight, he really needs help with Transfiguration. Go bother Blaise or something,” he waved his hand in the other direction, hoping Pansy would get the idea and just leave. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Pansy looked at me with pure venom in her eyes. She continued to look directly at me while speaking to Draco.

“You realize that D/N is a girl right? If you’re looking to get with a guy, I’d look somewhere else.” My breath immediately stopped as I glare at Pansy.

“You bitch,” I throw the words her way before fast walking in the opposite direction, not staying to see Draco’s reaction. I didn’t realize I was crying as I almost sprint towards the dorms until I reach my hand up and feel moisture on my cheeks. ‘Damn it, I was so close to making it through the day.’ I think to myself, hurriedly making my way into the common room and up to my dorm. I sit down on my bed, pulling the curtains around me so if anybody comes in they won’t notice me crying. My heart rate picks up, my breathing ragged and uneven. It feels like my skin is on fire, and I feel myself descending into the endless depths of self-loathing. I hear the door open hastily and I stifle a sob, my breathing still extremely uneven. I wait for the door to open again, signaling someone leaving, but it doesn’t. My curtain is flung open, and there stands Draco Malfoy, the top button of his shirt undone and his tie loose around his neck. His hair, once neat and tidy, is now draped around his face, his cheeks flushed and breath coming in pants.

“Y/N…are you…okay?” he pants heavily, a look of intense concern on his face. I look up at Draco, taking in his entire being, from the hand pressed against his bedframe, to his foot tapping on the floor anxiously.

“Did you run here?” I ask, shocked enough to stop crying for a moment, though it didn’t last long.

“Well…yeah. I was worried about you. Pansy was being as ass and I had to make sure that you’re okay.”

“But…” Draco cuts me off, sitting down on the bed next to me.

“Y/N you think I didn’t know that you’re transgender? Pansy never leaves me alone and she mentioned you at least 20 times just today. You somehow really get under her skin. Anyway, why would I care? You are the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on. I don’t care what anybody else thinks, I want you all to myself. Pansy can go fuck herself if she thinks we were ever going to get together. My type is much more…you.” He pulls me in close, my breathing finally evening out, and places a soft kiss to the top of my head – he’s so tall, I fit right under his chin, at the perfect height to bury my head in his neck. I grab onto the sides of his robes, pulling him as close as he could possibly get to me, and his arms wrap around me, enveloping me in warmth. “So how about tonight we skip the library and go get some ice cream from the kitchens, and I will help you all day tomorrow with the Transfiguration homework? Does that sound okay, love?” I look up at him and nod my head, feeling incredibly grateful for the Slytherin prince. He nods his head back in my direction, places a kiss on my forehead, another kiss on the tip of my nose, and a soft kiss on my lips. He grabs my hand and leads me out of the dorm and toward the kitchens.

As Draco tickles the pear in the fruit painting, I look down at our hands intertwined. I can’t help but smile at the turn of events, knowing this wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t so bad at Transfiguration, suddenly feeling extremely grateful that I had no idea how to turn a mouse into a teacup.